Chapter 37
SARAH
“Honey, I don’t know. They’re working on clearing the highways, but Russ says the plows aren’t even close to touching the county roads. It’ll be dark by the time they get to them. I don’t want you driving at night. It could be slick.”
I run my fingers through Grover’s soft, curly fur. “Ollie will be so bummed.”
The snowstorm blew through, leaving behind six inches of snow and more back home.
I’ll be sad not to spend Christmas with my mom, but I can’t say I won’t be happy to avoid stirring the small-town gossip.
I can definitely do without the questions about Miles’s new gig and spending the next two days rehashing every worst-case scenario. Especially for Christmas.
“We’ll FaceTime tomorrow, and maybe I can swing coming down for New Year’s.”
“Be careful when you go out to shovel.” My mom will be out clearing a pathway through the trailer park to ensure the light show remains undeterred.
“Will do, honey. I’ll send you pictures of the best decorations and a video of Agatha’s drunken rendition of ‘Santa Baby.’”
Agatha is eighty and lives two trailers over. She smokes like a chimney, and each Christmas Eve, she plants herself next to the punch bowl until it’s her turn behind the mic. It’s tradition.
“It’ll be like I’m there.” I laugh. “Love you, Mom. ”
“Kiss those babies for me.”
I untuck myself from Ollie and Grover and shove my phone into the waist of my leggings. “I’m going to shovel part of the driveway while Frankie is still sleeping.”
Ollie stares at the TV screen. “Are we leaving soon?”
“No.” I run a hand over his head. “We got too much snow. I think it’s best if we stay here.”
He slumps. “But S-s-santa is bringing my train to Grandma Susie’s.”
“Are you kidding?” I squeeze him to my side. “Santa has special elves to track the weather. He’s fully aware of the snowstorm and our change in plans.”
“Will he have to fly through the snow?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, but coming from the North Pole, I’m sure he’s used to it.”
He grins. “I b-bet Rudolph is good at finding the way.”
I nod. “He won’t let Santa down.” I kiss his head, and Grover hops off the couch. “I’ll be back.”
“Can I play in the s-snow?”
“Not yet. Let me get some of it cleared first.”
I slip on my shoes and open the back door. A whoosh of snow falls in, dusting the air. I sweep it out as Grover barrels past me and into the backyard.
I grab the shovel from the garage and scoop the snow away from the door and to the side of the driveway.
Movement catches my eye. I glance up and see the tall, muscular figure strolling down his neatly shoveled driveway, pulling on his Carhartt coat and stocking cap. His boots plow through the six inches of snow, and Grover barks, propping his front paws on the fence to greet him.
Slade scratches behind his ears before the dog runs off. I wrap my arms around myself as he stomps the snow off his boots.
“You can’t travel in this. The roads up north are a mess. ”
I lean on the shovel, smiling up at him. “Well, good morning, Snow Leopard. I’m so glad to see you’ve put your bossy pants on today.” I peer down at his long legs. “They’re masculine, durable, annnnnddd mildly attractive.” This man’s jeans hug his legs and butt like they were made for him.
He shoves his hands in his coat pockets, staring down his nose at me, trying very hard not to crack his aloof stare with a smile. His light brown hair curls out from under his hat, and I wonder how many times I could twist it around my finger.
Crap.
I stab the ground with my shovel, along with that thought. Slade’s amazing hair is not what I will spend Christmas thinking about.
“One might suspect that you, sir, were watching the road report and were concerned about us.”
He only watches me, his eyes moving over my face.
“You can just settle down.” I pat his chest. “We aren’t going. They got even more snow, and it’ll take forever to get the roads clear.”
“So, you’re staying here?”
“Yep.” I glance around at the crisp white wonderland. “At least Ollie is excited to play in the snow.”
Grover barks, plopping himself in a drift on the other side of the fence with his tongue hanging out.
“Mama.” Ollie steps out of the house in his pajamas with his boots unfastened and on the wrong feet, his bear hat pulled over his ears.
Slade turns, taking two strides, and lifts him. “You’re like your mom. Where’s your coat?”
Ollie shrugs.
Slade tucks him inside his coat and carries him into the garage. “I was thinking about picking out a Christmas tree.”
Ollie’s eyes grow wide. “A real Christmas tree?”
Slade nods.
“You were gonna pick out a tree? In the snow?” I ask the man who just marched over here to tell me I wasn’t going anywhere .
“It’s the best time,” he says matter-of-factly. “It doesn’t feel like Christmas without snow.”
Those green, green eyes stare back at me. “What do you say?” He nods his head toward his house. “Want to load up the kids and see if we can find the perfect tree?”
“Yeah!” Ollie throws his hands in the air. “Please, Mama. I want to g-go with Swade.”
We have no Christmas decorations except for the little tabletop tree that Ollie picked out at the grocery store. Helping Slade find a tree will give him a slice of the Christmas experience.
I take in Ollie’s bright eyes and full smile as he waits for my answer. “Is hot chocolate also involved?”
“And marshmallows?” Ollie twists like he’s ready to jump out of Slade’s arms to get going.
I glance at the big guy holding him.
“There’s a sleigh ride, too.”
Ollie grabs Slade’s shoulders. “Can we g-go now?”
Slade waits for my answer.
“I have to get Frankie up,” I say.
“Yes! Let’s go.” Ollie tugs on Slade’s collar.
“All right, partner.” Slade walks him back to the door and sets him down. “Find your clothes and switch your boots around while I shovel the driveway.”
“Can I help shovel?” Ollie kicks his boots off.
Slade glances at me as Ollie scurries to get ready.
“Sure,” I say. “Get dressed and go to the bathroom. I’ll find your mittens. Make sure you aim for the toilet!” I holler after him, pulling the door closed.
Slade moves around me, grabbing the shovel. “You, too. You need a coat and a hat.”
I reach to snatch the shovel back. “I can do that.”
He ignores me, scooping the snow where I left off. “Unhook the car seats, and I’ll pull my truck over.” He looks at me over his shoulder. “Do you have boots? ”
“Yes.” I eye Mr. Fix-it.
He makes a path down the middle of the driveway. “Real snow boots, Sarah?”
I open the back passenger door. “As opposed to fake boots, Slade?”
“If you don’t have any, I’ll grab Krissy’s out of the basement.”
“Do you want to dress me, too?” I set Frankie’s car seat on the garage floor.
The rhythmic scraping against the driveway halts, and that big body turns in my direction. Those deep green eyes find mine, one dark eyebrow raised. My entire body lights on fire with the intensity I see there.
I roll my lips, realizing what I just said. “You know, I think I can handle it.”
“You sure?” His voice is low and sexy as hell.
Ohhhhhhh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!
I do not need to be thinking about Slade and any sort of clothing rearrangement or the gorgeous smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. Friend. This man is my friend. The one who cares enough to be sure we wouldn’t attempt the treacherous drive home.
I exhale, calming the swirl of desire beginning to churn. “Yep. I’m just gonna go get myself ready.”
I head inside to wake my sweet girl so we can help the Jolly Giant pick out a Christmas tree.