Chapter 4 Daphne
Daphne
I can’t believe this is happening. Never in my career have I ever been stuck with a client before. Up here, my phone can’t even get a strong enough signal to report back and update the company. Can this get any worse?
“Depending on how bad it gets, we may not be able to leave for a couple of days.” Talking out loud, it’s more like he’s just speaking his thoughts as he watches the fat flakes fall. Everything outside is white as can be.
Gavin wants to call himself good company? Well, I’d describe him as something far more tempting. Every time he opens his mouth, he says something that makes my heart flutter, and my stomach fills with butterflies.
Go camping with him? Move to Willowbrook Ridge and start my own practice?
My skin is still tingling because of it.
After taking a few more bites of his stew, seeming unbothered by the entire situation, he turns away. “I’ll have to bring in some logs to get the fire going.”
Nodding, I watch him leave. Only once I hear the thump of his boots, and the front door opening and closing, do I allow myself one very quick moment of panic.
It’s not because I don’t trust Gavin, but more because I don’t trust myself.
Not while my heart is trying to take charge and do something reckless by chasing after something that doesn’t exist.
I could fill out one of those questionnaires and most of my answers wouldn’t match his. Even if I tried again, the chance of us matching would be a fat zero. It would have to be.
Then again, the company brought me here to his doorstep. In a weird way… maybe fate put me on his case.
Realizing how crazy that sounds, a dry laugh leaves me. Meeting people who are desperate for their happily-ever-after, I can’t help but put myself in their shoes. Reaching out for any hints of it, I’m blind to the fact that I could be taking Gavin’s words as something else.
“Get a grip, Daph…” Muttering the words, I turn my attention to cleaning up.
It’s the least I can do after his kindness.
I’ll have to do something to return the favor if I truly am going to be stuck here with him for the night…
or longer. Promising him a match, even if everything inside of me dislikes the thought, is the least I can do.
At the sound of the door opening again once I’m drying off my hands, I return to ask him what I can help with. Seeing him with snow clinging to his beard and body does something funny to my stomach. Even more so, as he easily carries chunks of wood like they weigh nothing.
He’s a bigger man. I bet he could pick up anything he wanted. My stomach clenches and my heart soars as my mind betrays me, considering how easily he’d pick me up.
“How bad is it out there?” Finding my voice, I stick close to what’s important before I accidentally ask him to entertain my curiosity.
“Pretty bad.” Being honest with me, he drops the wood and starts shoving the pieces inside the fire.
The snow sizzles. “Don’t worry, I always come prepared.
After being stuck up here for two weeks, I learned my lesson.
” At my sudden silence, he pauses and throws a look over his shoulder. “Not that bad, though.”
“No matter how long, I’ll try not to be a pain.” Shrinking back to the couch, I take a seat. “You’re a kind man for allowing me to stick around.”
As if I needed any more proof that Gavin is not the cause behind his failed matches. Rather, he’s giving me more reasons to like him, instead. Too many, in fact. Enough to make the line I’m trying to draw between us turn a little fuzzy.
“It’ll be nice to have company this time around.” He shoves another piece in before standing. Looking at his work, he frees his hands of his gloves before shrugging off his coat. I’m mesmerized by the way his body moves. “Can’t even enjoy nature when the weather gets like this. Gets lonely.”
“Well…” Grabbing my questionnaire and tearing my eyes away to look at the empty spaces remaining to be answered, I force a smile. “We’ve still got plenty to talk about. Shouldn’t have to worry about being lonely with this thing around.”
Nodding along, he disappears long enough to ditch his coat and boots. Returning to the couch, his weight makes it dip. Choosing to sit closer than before, I barely avoid leaning into the dip.
My skin heats all over again, but I try not to make it obvious. Instead, I pretend everything is okay and focus on the reason why I’m here.
To find Gavin a wife.
* * *
I’m starting to wonder if he actually wants a wife.
“Why silver?” He cocks his head as he squints at me. “Normal people normally say red or blue. But silver? Does that even count?”
All it takes is for a single hour to pass before my questionnaire is abandoned, leaving us just talking to each other.
After telling me his favorite color was green, he, of course, had to know mine.
Apparently, he doesn’t like my answer. It’s not normal enough, but it’s making that scowl of his crack.
“It’s shiny?” As my skin heats, I squirm beneath his gaze. “I don’t know. Silver sounds better than just saying boring gray. Any of the metallic colors is cool. Are you going to tell me that I’m strange now?”
Not even that bushy red beard is enough to hide the start of a smile. “I’ll admit, you are not like anyone I’ve met before. While I wouldn’t call you strange… you’re definitely something.”
I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not, but my body is doing some strange things because of it. Even more when I’ve got all of his attention directed at me.
Silence fills the air around us, outside of the occasional pops from the fire and an angry howl from outside.
Not having looked out there, I can only bet how bad it is.
Time on the mountain feels different than it does anywhere else I’ve been.
The sun is already gone from the sky, leaving us nothing but the fire to light up the room and bring out all the shadows.
The firelight does dangerous things to his face. I realize I’m staring, my gaze caught on the way the shadows cling to the hollow of his cheek and the soft curve of his lower lip.
The next thought to fill my mind comes immediately. How would they feel against mine? I bite the inside of my cheek, a futile attempt to get myself under control, but the question lingers, heating my blood.
“How come you keep asking questions about me?” I ask, my voice a touch too quiet.
He doesn’t look away. There’s a hesitance about him, like he can’t decide how much he wants to reveal. Honestly? It’s dangerous for both of us if he lets too much out at once.
“Because I’m interested,” Gavin starts, making it sound simple despite it being anything but. “I want to know you, Daphne.”
My fingers absentmindedly pinch my skin, and the sharp pain tells me this is real. Those words really left him. Gavin is showing interest in someone. The one woman who can’t.
“You shouldn’t be,” I whisper. The words are automatic, a mantra. “We won’t know each other past tomorrow. Or however long it takes to get out of this snow.”
A heavy silence stretches between us, filled only by the pop of a log and the distant howl of wind outside. His eyes hold mine, and in them, I see the argument forming, the refusal of my cold logic.
Then, without much warning outside of the dip in the cushion, he moves.
Slowly, hesitantly, one of his hands lifts. It hovers in the space between us for a heartbeat before his fingers brush my cheek. The touch is startling in its gentleness, a stark contrast to his callused hands.
My breath hitches, trapped in my throat. He’s warm. Far warmer than my skin. Without thinking, I lean into his touch, wanting to feel more of it.
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he murmurs.
Sirens blare in my head, screaming at me to pull back before I completely mess everything up by caving into temptation this great. But I don’t. I can’t even part my lips to speak, not when he’s staring down at me like I’m worth more than I really am.
We’re just looking at each other, his thumb making a slow, absent stroke along my cheekbone. His mouth presses into a firm line, and I don’t realize I’m staring at them until it’s too late. The damage is done.
I want to kiss him.
The desire is a clear, shocking line in my mind. He looks like he wants to kiss me, too. There’s only one thing stopping him, and it’s… me.
Maybe… one kiss would be okay. A test. A single, definitive moment. When I don’t feel even a spark—when it’s as cold and disappointing as every other attempt—then I’ll know. I’ll be able to move on, past this strange, snow-bound fascination.
This could be good for me. Closure in the shape of a man I’ll never see again.
For the pure need to move past this, and not for anything else, I lean in and let whatever happens… happen.