Chapter 11
Luke
The wind howls across the field like it’s got a vendetta, and the snow whips around us, falling sideways, thick and fast. I tug my coat tighter in one hand and hold Eve’s hand behind me.
We trek across the field through near white-out conditions, snow biting into our faces. Aunt May’s house is closer than my cabin, and I lead her there first, wiping snow from my face with a curse. Because there’s no way in hell I’m bringing Eve to my cabin. Nuh-uh. No way.
“We’re almost there!” I shout over the wind.
She looks up at me, cheeks flushed from the cold, her hair tangled under the pom-pom beanie. She pouts—actually pouts—but nods and jogs to keep up with me, brushing hay off her coat. “I-it’s s-s-so cold!”
“I know! The sooner we get inside, the sooner we get to sip Aunt May’s hot chocolate!”
Her eyes seem to light up at that and it kicks a fire under her ass. Suddenly she’s running beside me, the porch of Aunt May’s house coming into view. “With peppermint, right?”
I don’t bother replying, but despite the less than stellar conditions, I can’t help but notice how stunning Eve looks.
Even now. Running in a blizzard with red cheeks and hay caught in her hair.
I can’t stop thinking about how she looks happy here.
Like she belongs here. Not just in the barn—but here. On the farm. With me.
That thought’s dangerous. I shake it off.
Aunt May opens the door just as we’re running up onto the porch as though she was waiting at the window. She wears a smile way too bright for someone who just witnessed the start of a potential blizzard apocalypse. “Oh, thank heavens! You made it!”
Eve stomps snow off her boots. “May, this storm’s intense!”
Aunt May tsks, ushering us inside. “Yes, yes. I’ve been watching the weather all day. Seems you’ll be stuck here overnight, sweet pea. I already called your mother to check in and let her know your car was still here and we’ve got you.”
“I really appreciate you taking me in,” Eve says, shucking her damp coat off of her shoulders. “Luke said you have a guest room—”
“Oh,” Aunt May says, her tone suddenly serious. “The heat’s out up there.”
I freeze from where I’m shaking the snow from my hat and cut my eyes to Aunt May. “For how long?”
“Um, I-I’m not sure,,” she says with a suspicious stutter. “With the master bedroom down here, I didn’t notice it until yesterday.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Aunt May flings her hands in the air. “I only just noticed last night! And then you were up and out the door this morning like lightning.”
My stomach drops. “Let me take a look at the thermostat. Maybe I can fix it—”
“No need.” Aunt May waves me off. “I already called Max and he’s coming tomorrow to fix it.”
She claps her hands together and spins to face Eve. “You two must be starving! I have some stew warming on the stove for you!”
“You know I was promised some of that famous Aunt May hot chocolate, too!” Eve says, heading to the counter and grabbing a bowl that Aunt May left out.
“Oh, I can do that!” Aunt May says. “With marshmallows?”
“And peppermint!” Eve exclaims. “Like you made for me last night.”
“Last night?” Aunt May asks.
Uh-oh. “I’ll make the hot chocolate, Aunt May. You’ve done enough for us.”
I grab the canister of chocolate nibs and dark chocolate squares Aunt May uses and start unwrapping a candy cane. Any more prying on Eve’s part and she’ll quickly learn Aunt May didn’t exactly make that hot chocolate for her at last night’s gingerbread house contest.
“Why don’t you two wait and make the hot chocolate over at your cabin for dessert?
” Aunt May says. “And Lucas, you can take these on over too so you have enough bedding for both of you!” She drops a big pile of blankets and a couple pillows, all wrapped up in a laundry basket by the door…
like she’s been planning this for hours.
Eve tilts her head. “Wait, the cabin? As in Luke’s cabin?”
Aunt May beams. “Well, you can’t stay here! There’s no room!”
Again, I narrow my eyes at my aunt as I ladle stew into my bowl. “I can always sleep on the couch here and give Eve my bedroom in the cabin.”
“And leave Eve alone in your cabin? What if the power goes out! What if she doesn’t know how to light a fire in the fireplace!”
“What if your power goes out, Aunt May?”
“I’ve been living here for years. I know what to do in that scenario.” Well, she has me there. Aunt May is nothing if not self-sufficient. “Besides, my couch is covered with laundry I’ve yet to put away.”
“That’s very unlike you, Aunt May,” I say pointedly.
I stare at her. She stares right back.
This woman is setting me up.
She arches an eyebrow at me before slowly turning to look at Eve. “Well, do you know how to start a fire in a fireplace?”
“Ummmm…” Eve starts, eyes darting between us. “Well. I assume it starts with a lighter. And some, uh… flint?”
I groan. Well, I guess that settles that. Aunt May was right. This girl wouldn’t know the first thing to do if the power went out. “Fine. You win. We’ll eat dinner, then brave the storm again to head to my cabin.”
Aunt May’s smile is positively wicked.
Twenty minutes later, we’re walking back through the snow in silence, the storm whipping at our backs. Only this time I have a hamper of blankets, covered in a plastic garbage bag and Eve is clutching the ingredients for our hot chocolate against her chest.
I unlock the cabin door and hold it open for Eve as snow swirls in across my entryway. “Welcome to my humble, snow-trapped abode.”
Eve grins, stomping inside. “Ooooh. Cozy.”
“Code for small?”
She shakes her head and peels her coat and hat from her body.
“I mean cozy. Truly. It’s so cute in here.
” She says it like she’s never seen wood paneling and a stone fireplace before.
But I have to admit, the place does look pretty good—warm light, antique fishing rods and snow shoes adorning the walls, soft throws cover the couch.
I set the hamper down near my bedroom door and take our coats, hanging them over the heater to dry. “You can take the bed. I’ll crash out here.”
Eve raises a brow. “Oh come on. You don’t have to do the whole chivalrous act. I can take the couch.”
“Nope,” I say, pulling off my boots. “It’s not an act. It’s just called not being a jackass.”
She crosses her arms. “And if I insist on being stubborn?”
“Then I’ll carry you to the bed myself.”
That gets a reaction. Her cheeks grow pink, and she flounders for a second. “Okay, fine. You win.”
“The bedroom and shower is through that door,” I point across the room. “You should shower first,” he says, not quite looking at me. “You smell like placenta.”
“Charming,” she snorts. “But if I smell like placenta, then you probably smell like a bucket of afterbirth.”
I grin at her and jerk my head toward the bedroom door. “Seriously, you can shower first and I’ll go after you. Feel free to wear anything you find in my closet to sleep in.”
She lifts her chin. “You’re going to let me go through your closet? Aren’t you worried I’ll find your porn stash?”
“Nah, that’s under the bed,” I deadpan back to her.
With a giggle, she heads toward the bedroom, disappearing inside, shutting the door behind her.
Once I hear the water start, I exhale slowly, dragging a hand through my hair.
Then I get to work, kneeling by the fireplace to build a triangle of wood.
The fire quickly makes the room warm… too warm maybe; the room is too small, and I’m too aware that she’s right on the other side of that wall, naked in my shower, water sluicing down her body.
She’ll probably poke through my bookshelves and judge my flannel collection.
When she comes out ten minutes later, my brain short circuits.
She’s wearing one of my flannel shirts. One of my old ones—oversized, faded red and black.
Her hair’s damp from a quick shower, twisted up in a loose bun.
Her legs are bare except for fuzzy socks that Aunt May had knit for me last Christmas.
She’s hugging herself like she doesn’t realize she’s just waltzed into the middle of every fantasy I’ve buried over the last ten years.
I clear my throat. Loudly.
“What?” she says, blinking. “Is this okay? You said to grab something from your closet to sleep in. This one seemed older than the others.”
“Yeah,” I say, pausing to clear my throat again. “It’s nothing. Just didn’t expect to see my shirt up and walking around the cabin.”
She smirks, tugging at the collar and burying her nose in it. “Well, this shirt also smelled the nicest. Like cedarwood and crippling emotional repression.”
I snort a laugh that feels rusty, but good. “Sounds about right.”
I excuse myself into my bedroom and take the quickest, coldest shower I can stand.
Normally, a hot shower during a blizzard is my favorite thing in the world, but tonight?
I need to cool the fuck off. Five minutes later, I’m dressed in my pajama bottoms and a different flannel shirt.
I come out to find Eve looking at my bookshelf, studying my various copies of nerdy fantasy novels and memoirs.
“So,” she says, walking over to me. “What now? Do I start making the hot chocolate? Or do we braid each other’s hair and share secrets?”
“Depends. You got any secrets worth sharing?”
“No… but I have a feeling you do.” She shakes the jar of chocolate chips and nibs.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” I stand, narrowing my eyes before crossing the small length of the room and taking the jar from her. “Let me make the hot chocolate. Aunt May’s peppermint hot chocolate is a secret recipe. Can’t have you poaching it to win the festival, now can we?”
“Hmmm,” she says, curling up in my armchair, tucking her feet beneath her. “Funny. It sounded like May had no idea that I love peppermint in my hot chocolate.”
“Huh. She must have forgotten.” I cross behind the small kitchen island that faces the open concept living room.
“She forgot… within a day?”