Chapter 3
Chapter Three
JANE
“So much for sunshine,” I muttered to myself as I looked out my bedroom window at the blowing snow. This storm was a genuine nor'easter and hadn’t let up, not even a little, during the night.
Turning, I crossed over to the dresser and picked up my phone. I tapped the screen and pulled up my weather app. Today's forecast predicted twelve inches of snow and potentially more. Tomorrow's forecast was for even more snow.
Fuck. I'd had a restless night of sleep with the wind waking me several times and my awareness of Ian through the bedroom wall adjacent to the room I'd claimed keeping me keyed up.
I knew I could stay here, but my body’s fierce reaction to him was annoying.
It rubbed me the wrong way that he didn't even remember who I was at first. It brought up all those old feelings from high school—feeling out of place, the nerdy girl.
It wasn't as if high school had been awful.
It had simply been frustrating, almost an obstacle to get through.
Ian had been chased after by plenty of girls. Not only had he been handsome and funny and popular, but he'd actually been sort of nice.
I sighed to myself. I didn't even know if I wanted to attempt to drive over to my parents’ old home.
It had been boarded up for years, and the power and water were turned off.
There was no heat. My plan had been to stay here and have a month to myself, but now Ian was here.
His mere presence was interfering with my plans.
“Crap,” I muttered.
The lights flickered when the wind gusted, and I let out a breath of relief when they stayed on. I decided it’d be wise for me to take a shower while we still had power.
I grabbed my toiletry bag and a change of clothes and found myself peering down the hallway when I stepped out.
This was one of those old colonial homes—two stories with bedrooms flanking a wide hallway upstairs and one bathroom.
Ian had claimed the room beside mine, the master bedroom, which probably had a bathroom.
Tiptoeing into the hall bathroom, I flicked the lights on and looked around, my lips curling in a smile.
The room had tiny tiles in a checkered design of black and white.
I was relieved to find a stack of towels in a cabinet beside the shower because I hadn't even thought to check with Thea about bedding and towels.
I eyed the bathroom door for a moment before I stripped out of my clothes.
It still didn't lock, and I laughed to myself, recalling how the broken lock annoyed Thea when I spent the night over here because she had to share the bathroom with her brothers.
I figured Ian would hear the shower, and my need for a shower overrode my caution.
Before my drive up yesterday, I'd had a tension-filled day.
I hadn't started my new job yet, and I was still tying up loose ends at my old job.
One of those loose ends involved my nightmare of a former boss who couldn't finish a single project without me and several of my colleagues doing most of the work for him. He was a complete asshole.
I shoved those worries away and climbed into the shower. I was quick because I was mindful that if we lost power, the water might turn off. Only minutes later, I was toweling off, and the fan was still running. The old ceiling fan was the reason I didn't hear the door open.
“Right, I'll call in next week. But when I said I was taking a vacation, I meant it.” Ian was talking on the phone, not even paying attention to the fact that I was in the bathroom.
I squeaked in surprise, and his head whipped in my direction. I had been leaning over, scrubbing the towel over my hair. I flung my hair back and yanked my towel up, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t quick enough to prevent him from seeing me completely naked.
“What are you doing?” I burst out as I tightened the towel around me.
He said into his phone, “I need to go. We'll talk when I'm available.”
Mind you, the door was still wide open and all I had to cover me was a towel, which felt more than insubstantial.
He lowered the phone, tapping his thumb on the screen to end the call. We stared at each other for a moment as I scrambled to find my composure.
“Could you please leave?” I managed, annoyed that my voice sounded squeaky.
His gaze was cool as his eyes held mine. His lips quirked at the corners. “The master bath is being renovated, so this is the only usable bathroom upstairs. Maybe you should’ve locked the door.”
Oh. My. God. He was still in here. In this tiny bathroom. With me. My nipples tightened.
“The lock doesn't work,” I ground out. “Now, could you please leave?”
“Yes, ma'am,” he drawled.
I didn't like the teasing tone in his voice, and I bristled all over.
I was also hot and prickly and beyond frustrated.
He didn't hurry out either, only adding to my overall state of fluster.
He stepped back slowly, dipping his head once more as I clutched the towel to my chest. I waited until the door clicked shut.
Then I scurried across the bathroom, the tiles cool under my feet.
I stood right in front of the door as if prepared to prevent him from coming in again.
I listened through the doorway, only to hear his low chuckle before he added, “My apologies. I was on the phone, and I was distracted.”
My breath was shallow, and I had to take several deep breaths just to get enough air in my lungs. I tried to order my pulse to stand down.
I dressed in record time. I hadn't planned on wearing a turtleneck, but I opted for one after my little encounter with Ian.
I felt the need to cover as much as possible.
I walked downstairs, telling myself I would be cool and calm and collected when I saw him in the kitchen or wherever the hell he was.
The scent of coffee carried down the hallway. As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I said, “I hope you made enough for both of us.” My tone came out sharp, bristling with my annoyance.
So much for playing it cool. Whatever. Ian had apparently showered in the downstairs bathroom. His hair was damp, and his skin slightly flushed. He glanced over, his gaze calm and cool. “Of course, I did. I'm not an asshole, even if I did accidentally walk in on you. My apologies again.”
“It's okay,” I said stiffly. “I didn’t mean to be rude just now.”
He shrugged. “No problem. I'll try to fix the lock today.”
“Thanks,” I murmured. I looked out the window, feeling the heat burn on my cheeks and willing it away.
“How do you like your coffee?” he asked.
“Do we even have any cream?” I turned toward him.
He flashed a quick grin, then pointed at the counter. My eyes followed and landed on a small box with those little cream containers. “The date hasn’t expired. Someone must’ve gotten them recently. Noah and Sasha were here last month.”
“Well, that's handy. I'll take a little cream.”
“We have sugar too,” he offered, gesturing toward a small container sitting beside the cream.
“I don’t like my coffee sweet, but thanks.”
He filled a mug for me and set it beside the box of creamers. I added two to the coffee and crossed over to sit at the kitchen table. Snow swirled outside, and I couldn't even see the ocean.
“According to the weather, the snow is going to last all day and probably into tomorrow,” I commented.
“I know,” Ian said as he sat down across from me. He held two creamers in hand and poured them in before lightly swirling the mug in his hand and taking a swallow. He set it down, adding, “I called down to Haven’s Bay Grocery. They're open. I'm thinking of heading in.”
“You are?”
“I have an SUV with four-wheel drive. It shouldn't be too bad, and the drive’s not very far. What were your plans for today?”
“I was going to go investigate my parents’ house.”
“I'm not sure it's worth it in this weather.”
That comment pricked me. “I thought I’d check to see if it was worth me trying to stay there.”
Ian's eyes narrowed as he shook his head. “No.”
“No?” I countered. “I'm pretty sure you don't get to tell me what to do.”
“I don't think it’s a great idea in the weather.”
“If you can drive to town, so can I,” I protested, feeling downright contrary.
“Jane, you’re not going to stay there. There’s no power or water. You cannot stay there,” he said, way too firmly for me.
I knew what he said was entirely logical, but still. I bristled and straightened in my chair, narrowing my eyes at him. “That'll be my decision. Once the storm passes, I'll go take a look and see what I want to do.”
His brows arched up. “I'll go with you.”
“You're not my keeper,” I retorted.
“No, but you're a friend of Thea’s, so by extension, a friend of mine. Your parents would kill me if I let you try to stay there.”
I felt that pesky flush creep up my neck and into my cheeks again, and before I could even think of what to say next, other than to volley back and forth in this sort-of argument, he added, “Do you want to go to the grocery store with me?”
I shrugged.
“How long were you planning to stay?”
“Until Christmas. I'm reconsidering that plan,” I replied. I honestly didn’t know if I could take too many days, much less a few weeks, in this house with Ian. My hormones were annoying the hell out of me, and this big house seemed too small for both of us.
“No need to do so on my account,” he responded smoothly. “I already checked with Thea. She told me your lease in Boston doesn't start until January. Were you going to spend Christmas with your parents?”
Sweet Jesus. This man was driving me crazy with his questions.
“No.”
One of Ian's dark brows rose in a slash.
Back in high school, he'd had this easy confidence, the kind of casual confidence most guys tried to emulate.
But Ian actually had it. Now, a decade later, it was honed even more sharply.
The mere rise of a brow felt imperious. I took a swallow of my coffee, trying to ignore the little hum of awareness in my body.
I did not want to notice Ian. For one, that was ridiculous.
He was my friend's older brother too. He didn't even recognize who I was at first. Talk about feeling stupid and too familiar with the keen awareness I wasn't worthy of recognition.
I didn't think I looked that different from when I was in high school.
I didn't really have to explain anything to Ian, but I did anyway. “My parents’ anniversary is near Christmas, and they’ve always wanted to go to Paris, so that's where they're spending their anniversary this year.
With me moving and starting a new job, it wasn't a good time for me to travel.
So, no, I'm not spending the holiday with my parents.”
He nodded. “Makes sense.”
“What about you? What are your Christmas plans?” I countered, figuring I might as well be nosy about him.