* * *
Chase woke up confused about what time it was. The moon was out and reflecting on the snow, making it appear like early morning, but the sky was pitch-black, stars dotting the nighttime canvas.
He checked his phone for the time—3:00 a.m.—and then rolled over to wrap a palm around Mimi’s breast.
Neither she nor her breasts were there.
He lay on his back in the semidark listening for her. She hadn’t gone far. From the sound of fluttering pages coming from the room outside his, she was flipping through a book. After taking her on his tongue, he’d been sure she’d sleep through the night. He was beat from shoveling, sledding—or tobogganing—and honest-to-goodness fatigue had had him drifting off in a matter of minutes. Short-lived, evidently. Whatever had woken him, be it Mimi’s wandering about or a dream that had already lost its potency after jarring him awake, he was too alert to fall asleep again.
Climbing out of bed, he was greeted by frigid air in the room. He grabbed his phone to check the app for his thermostat, bumping it up a few degrees. Then he checked his stocks out of habit, narrowly avoided his email and left the device on his nightstand. At the door of his bedroom, he found her where he’d imagined.
Wrapped in a thick quilt in the library and curled on the armchair facing the window over the lake. She was flipping through one of the books from the shelves. A murder mystery by the looks of it.
“Fan of Patterson?”
She looked up, briefly startled by him standing there. “Who isn’t?”
“Good point.”
She slid her gaze down his boxers-only attire. “Put some clothes on. It’s cold.”
“Share your blanket instead.” He tugged a corner of it, exposing her bare legs. She had on panties and a T-shirt, but nothing else. Perfect.
“This chair isn’t big enough for—Hey!” Her exclaimed argument faded into soft laughter as the hardbound book hit the floor with a thunk. He lifted her and set her on his lap, cradling her close and wrapping that blanket around his legs while he was at it.
“Plenty of room,” he said of their shared seat. “What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” This close, he could see the feathered soft lines at the corners of her eyes, the faint smile lines around her mouth. The freckles that had been out in droves years ago were fainter but still present, likely from her work outdoors.
“I did everything in my power to put you out for an entire night. I was hoping you’d sleep in.”
“Why? Were you going to deliver me an avocado-and-protein smoothie in bed?”
He captured her hand in his and wove their fingers together, admiring the way her long, elegant fingers fit against his tanner, wider ones.
“I was going to make pancakes.”
“You’re lying.”
“Tomorrow, or today technically,” he corrected, “is looking like our last day together. I assume once the driveway is cleared you’ll go home.”
“What will you do?” she asked instead of addressing his comment.
“I don’t know.” He pulled in a breath and let it out. “Stay. Leave. Depends.”
She examined their linked hands and said nothing.
“Mimi.” That brought her dark eyes to his. He took in her pretty, delicate features in the streaming moonlight, weighed her hand in his and absolutely did not say what he was thinking. Which was that his staying or leaving had everything to do with her.
He’d come here to get away. And yes, in a distant part of his mind he’d considered that he might run into her while he was here. He’d considered dropping in on her at work and buying her a coffee under the guise of discussing the photo and the letter sent from his office. He’d wanted to see her. See if she was all right. Find out if she hated him for what he did, or if they’d outgrown what had been between them.
He’d have died before admitting the unfinished business, but after he’d run into her at the supermarket he’d concluded that was exactly what it was. When she’d called to invite him to her family’s house, he’d declined, guessing he’d be unwelcomed by her family and knowing that Mimi couldn’t help being kind.
He never expected her to drive out to see him, end up trapped with him in this snowstorm. And even though he’d been determined to have her in his arms once she was stuck here with him, he never imagined it would be this easy. This satisfying. This...right. He hadn’t counted on the onslaught of powerful emotions from years ago to resurface, either. Feelings for her he hadn’t examined and would prefer not to, but stood before him now like an immovable wall.
He could see now how much she’d mattered to him back then. He’d concluded that the cure was time and space; distance should have erased the intensity between them. He’d assumed the bond they’d had then had been broken. It was beginning to appear as if it’d been merely...interrupted.
Hell, maybe he should tell her what was on his mind. He had no idea what was going on in her head and guessing would do him no good... Maybe he’d been wrong assuming she wouldn’t fit into his world. Maybe—