part0005

S o, I appreciate that pulling over and picking up some random guy fighting his way through a snowstorm wasn’t the wisest idea I’ve ever had, but the good Samaritan in me couldn’t just drive by and leave him to struggle.

I’m just hoping I don’t live to regret that decision.

Heck, maybe I should hope I that do . It’s backward, but you get the gist.

What if he’s an axe murderer wanted in twenty states? I mean, he doesn’t look like an axe murderer, but then again, what do axe murders actually look like?

Do they have smoking hot bodies with a jawline you could cut your fingers on? Or short, brown hair you want to run your fingers through? Or stubbled cheeks that chaff your cheeks and lips when he kisses you senseless?

Phew . Did it suddenly get hot in here, or is it just me? Taking a hand off the steering wheel, I tug at the scarf wrapped around my neck and blow out a breath.

Driving at no more than ten miles per hour, we’re creeping up the icy highway.

Pulling out his phone, Nick looks down and taps at the screen a few times. “I think I could’ve walked this faster,” he remarks sarcastically, but I don’t miss the playful hint in his tone.

Did he just insult me? After I pulled over and offered his ungrateful ass a lift? “Maybe so, but you wouldn’t be safe or warm then either, would you? But if you’d prefer to struggle your way through this blizzard, feel free to hop out,” I retort playfully.

Chuckling, he shakes his head. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

Huh? “Done what?” The car in front brakes, and I press gently on mine, gradually slowing us down.

“Stopped and offered me a ride.” Nick looks up at me. “I’m grateful that you did, but you’re a young girl driving all alone in these conditions. It’s dangerous.”

“I can handle myself. I have a black belt in Karate,” I tell him. “I’m pretty sure I could kick your ass without even breaking a sweat.”

I was bullied a lot as a child for being too nerdy, so my mom signed me up to some karate classes so I could defend myself. It’s safe to say I was never bullied again.

In the distance, I see some flashing lights and a road closure sign blocking the road.

My plans for getting Snowed Inn Lodge today so I could greet Gabby's dad were slowly going down the toilet. Gabby is one of my best friends. We met through her liking of chocolate and my passion for making it.

My mom owns a small chocolate shop in Chicago, and Gabby comes in every day after college to grab her usual hot chocolate and praline truffles.

With the amount she puts away each week, I’m surprised she’s not diabetic. We’ve only been friends for around a year, but I love her bubbly personality and her carefree attitude. She’s a free spirit and she owns it.

When Gabby asked me to help plan her twentieth birthday party with her father at her grandmother’s lodge in Frankenmuth, Michigan, how could I say no?

As well as creating delicious morsels of chocolate, I also have a thing for event planning. I don’t have a ton of experience, being twenty myself, but I’ve done a few things here and there. I never went to college for it, but I love seeing a plan come together.

As we approach the barricade, a police officer comes to my window, and I quickly I lower it. “I’m afraid you folks are going to have to turn around. We can’t let anyone through until the snow has been cleared.”

Nick leans across the center console and his musky, masculine scent invades my senses.

“You have any idea how long that’ll take?”

The police officer shrugs. “Possibly a couple hours. We’ve taken quite a hit today with the snow. We’re just waiting on some plows to clear it all, and then you can be on your way.”

“Is there any other way through?” I ask.

“No, miss. Not unless you want to drive miles out of your way.”

Dammit. “Is there anywhere around here we can wait it out?”

“There’s a diner a few miles down the road. Hot food, warmth, something to drink. It’s about the best you’re going to get around these parts.”

“Thank you, Officer.”

Tipping his hat at me, he slaps the roof of my car and backs away. Looking over at Nick, I shrug. “Diner?”

He nods. “Diner.”

“ H ow the hell are you going to eat all this?” Nick motions to the array of food I’d ordered, compared to his miserable black coffee. The astonishment in his voice is a little insulting.

Moving my silverware, I unfold the napkin and tuck it under my collar. “I’m a growing girl, Mr. Grinch. We can’t all survive on black coffee and good looks.”

I bypass the fact I just called him good looking and pray that he does too.

He raises an amused brow. “Mr. Grinch?”

I shrug, picking up my burger and taking a bite. The second the cheese and barbecue sauce hits my tongue, I groan. “Holy crap, this is good.” Licking my lips, I continue. “He’s cranky too, so you’re in good company.”

Bringing his coffee to his lips, Nick smirks. “But the Grinch wasn’t good looking.” The way he’s peering up at me over his mug, with his grey eyes all mischievous, tells me he’s taking great pleasure out of teasing me.

A blush heats my cheeks, but I steel my features pretending his comment didn’t make me want to hide under this table. “No? Martha May seemed to think differently.”

“Martha May was a money-grabbing gold-digger.” He points out.

“I don’t think that. I just think she, like the Grinch, was a little misunderstood. She hadn’t found the one to sweep her off her feet. I mean, come on. Augustus Maywho wasn’t exactly wowing her with romance.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, he sets the cup back down. “Is that what does it for you women? Romance?”

“Well... yeah.” Picking up a sweet potato fry, I pop it in my mouth. “That and a connection. If you don’t have either of those, you’re pretty doomed.”

He opens his mouth to respond when his stomach growls in hunger. “That’s a little unmanning.”

“Would you just eat already. I ordered all this food, it’s there, help yourself.”

Rolling my eyes, I take a fry and throw it at him, making him chuckle. “Eat.”

The soft rumble of his laughter pleases me more than it should.

“Damn, woman. Anyone ever tell you you’re bossy?”

I grin triumphantly. “I’m not going to get anywhere in life being a doormat, am I?”

Grey eyes find mine. “I’m sure you’re far from a doormat.”

I involuntarily shiver at the way he’s looking at me. Our eyes remain locked for a few more minutes when I break the spell and look away. My skin’s becoming more flushed by the second. “So, what brings you to these parts?”

A small smile pulls at his lips. “It’s kind of a celebration actually. I’m here to visit with family.”

I tilt my head, listening intently as I dip my fork into the mashed potato. “That’s so sweet. Is it like a tradition or a one-off thing?”

“I try to visit at least once a year, I’ve just been majorly swamped with work. But I always make the trip for Christmas. It’s a special time of year.”

I glance down at his left hand and see no wedding band. He’s not married. “Did your wife or girlfriend not want to join you?”

I’m seriously hoping he’s not with someone, but if he were, I couldn’t imagine then not being together for Christmas.

He smiles and looks up at me. “Not married and no girlfriend.”

I nearly drop my fork.

I couldn’t be that lucky, could I?

How is this dreamboat of a man single?

“I’m sorry—how has some stunning brunette not locked you down yet?”

“Why do you assume I’m attracted to brunettes?” Nick’s mouth curves into a roguish, crooked smirk. “I could be into blondes.”

“You could be,” I agree, letting that hanging there for a second. “Are you?”

“I’m thinking it’s a definite possibility.” Nick’s dark eyes lock with mine and I feel shivers all over my body. “What does your boyfriend think of you traveling alone?”

I shrug and sit back in my chair. “Well, seeing as I’m single, I have no idea.”

The look in his eyes is so intense, it takes my breath away. “Single, huh.”

“Yep. Last time I had a boyfriend, I was in freshman year at high school and he tried to French kiss me behind the bleachers.” I scrunch my nose and shudder. “Wasn’t the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

“Damn,” he splutters, choking and pounding on his chest. “I kinda admire him for having the balls to go for it.”

I chuckle. “True. But now every time someone tries to slip me the tongue, I cringe. I think he ruined it for me.”

Nick’s eyes darken and he swallows. I can’t help but bite my lip at the way his throat moves.

“Maybe you just haven’t had the right man French kiss you.”

I lick my lips. “Maybe I haven’t.”

For the next few minutes, we fall into a comfortable silence and eat our food. I like this. That we don’t have to fill the time with pointless small talk. When I talk to Nick, it feels natural—like I’ve known him for years. There’s nothing worse than running out of things to say.

He wipes his hand on a napkin. “You mentioned you were headed to Snowed Inn Lodge as well?”

Right. “Yeah, it’s my friend Gabby's birthday. I was supposed to meet her dad there and help him get the place ready for her.”

Nick visibly pales. “Wait, your friend’s name is Gabby? As in Gabriella?”

I eye him. “Yeah, why’s that?”

A thunderous look comes over his face, and he throws the napkin down on the table. “Because I’m Nick Clayton. Gabriella’s father.”