Chapter Three
Everlee
I stop in the middle of unzipping my coat. The concern, which had melted at his acknowledgment he knows Becca, is back in full force at his statement. “What do you mean, tell her I won’t be making it?”
His head tips towards the door we just entered. “You just waded through knee-deep snow to get here. It’s only getting deeper. There’s no way anyone will make it out here to pull you out in the near future. You’re lucky you made it here as it is.”
My heart sinks, knowing he’s right. I was in denial thinking a phone call would have someone out here to get me on my way soon. Well, if I’m going to be stuck somewhere, at least it’s with someone who says they know Becca, but I better confirm that to be safe.
Even if he’s one of the sexiest men I’ve ever laid eyes on.
His dark, disheveled hair is slightly shaggy with a curl at the ends, matching the thick scruff covering his sharp jaw.
The snug black thermal henley he’s wearing showcases his thick biceps and torso to perfection, and don’t even get me started on the damn gray sweats.
They leave nothing to the imagination. Feeling my cheeks heat as I get an eyeful of the impressive bulge, I quickly avert my eyes, finding his bare feet poking out from the cuffs. Who knew a man’s feet could be sexy? Certainly not me.
Gah, these pregnancy hormones have me all out of sorts. At least I’m not crying, which happens more often than not lately. Guess all it takes is a sexier than sin cowboy to flip the switch to horny.
Mentally shaking my head at the wayward direction my thoughts have gone, I sigh before continuing to take off my boots and coat. “I guess you’re right. Sorry for the intrusion.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “No worries. I was just hanging out here by myself anyway. It’ll be nice to have some company actually.”
The admission surprises me. I would’ve bet money he had a woman who wouldn’t let him spend Christmas alone.
Once I’m done peeling off my outerwear, he shows me to a phone.
I dig mine out of my tote to find Becca’s number and spend the next several minutes reassuring her I’m fine and riding out the storm with Brooks.
She vouches for him, and I’m grateful. If I had to crash, at least I ended up somewhere safe.
I wander from the homey kitchen decorated in country red and white gingham to the living room and find Brooks flipping through channels on the TV.
He’s sprawled on the worn couch, feet up on the scuffed coffee table.
The fact the house and furnishings show their age doesn’t detract at all from their comfort, which I confirm when I plop down in the recliner.
In fact, it only adds to the cozy, lived-in feeling of the place.
There’s a history of the people who have lived here in every scratch and ding.
Of family laughing and loving each other, which can be seen in the photos and mementos scattered on the walls and bookshelves.
It’s something I’ve never been a part of, having grown up in foster care.
But now I’ll have the chance to create it with my own little one, even if it’s just the two of us.
I’ll make sure this child never doubts how much they are loved.
Brooks rolls his head to the side to peer at me, pulling me from my thoughts. “Can I get you a hot toddy?”
“Oh no, but I’d take some tea if you have it.”
He nods. “Yep. Kayla likes to drink the stuff from time to time. I’ll be just a moment. Here, knock yourself out trying to find something on TV. If you’re into Christmas shows, you’re in luck because that’s about all that’s on right now.” He hands me the remote before heading into the kitchen.
I hear rattling from that direction as I flick through the obscene amount of holiday programming clogging the channels.
Not that I’m against Christmas, it’s just when you’re used to being on your own, watching others celebrate with their families and loved ones is a painful reminder of what you’ve never had.
There I go again. I’m not sure what my problem is right now.
Usually I’m not such a Debbie Downer. Yeah, my lot in life has left me disheartened at times, but I find ways to stay busy and connect with friends to keep the worst of the melancholy at bay.
Maybe it’s because I didn’t make it to Becca’s and am now stuck with a stranger.
Next year and all the others after it will be different, I remind myself.
I just have to make it through this last one alone, and then it’ll be me and sweet pea.
That’s what I need to be focusing on. Not how alone I am right now and especially not the tempting man who just walked into the living room, arms loaded down.
He places a platter with snacks ranging from popcorn and cookies to crackers, cheese, and meats on the coffee table. Plucking a steaming mug from the arrangement, he hands it to me with a small bowl holding an assortment of tea. I feel the spark of electricity again when our fingers brush.
“I figured you might be hungry if you’ve been on the road for a while,” he supplies as he flops down on the couch.
“Wow, that’s quite a spread, and sweet of you. I am a little hungry. Thank you.” I hadn’t thought about how long it’d been since I’d eaten, being distracted by driving through the storm and crashing. But now, with the food in front of me, I suddenly feel ravenous.
“Welcome.”
The grin he gives me sends flutters through my body, most notably between my thighs. Lord, the man is even more gorgeous when he smiles like that. I’m sure he has women falling at his feet when he does.
Too bad I’m pregnant with another man’s baby because I wouldn’t mind being one of them.