Chapter Eleven
The second the words came out of her mouth, Andrea’s heart fluttered with the realization of what was happening. Had she just invited Seth to stay over?
“You never know around here,” Seth said. “It could lighten up. Is there anything I can help you with while we’re waiting?”
Andrea felt a rush of relief at the suggestion of a task. “I was going to decorate more tomorrow. Finish the tree and the rest of the front room.”
“I’m no—what did you say her name was? Ruby Turner? But I’ll help however I can.”
She did her best to mask the slow, steadying breath she took to calm her racing pulse. “There are some boxes in the attic. Do you mind helping me lug them down?”
“Just show me where,” said Seth.
After the chemistry that was blazing on the dance floor, feeling Seth’s firm body against hers, being alone together now in the quiet of her home felt like a match ready to ignite.
She wanted badly to be close to the flame, but knowing how easily she could get burned…
it was tugging her in the opposite direction.
They would decorate, ride out the storm, and once it was safe for him to drive, Seth would be on his way, leaving a very turned-on Andrea in the safety of her home. Until then, this little project would keep her from doing anything stupid.
The third-floor attic was accessible through a narrow staircase beside the second-floor broom closet. Andrea climbed up first, keenly aware of Seth right behind her.
She flicked on the dim overhead light and surveyed the boxes in semi-organized rows. The movers had brought them up on moving day, and she’d been otherwise occupied and sorting through things as she needed them.
Andrea pulled open the flap of the first box. “I think some of the labels came off in the move,” she said. The box was filled with old textbooks, and the second held her summer camping gear. “Bingo.” She pulled the top off the third box to reveal strings of lights and a plaid tree skirt.
“Just let me know what to do,” said Seth.
She was resisting looking at him in the tight, low-ceilinged space.
Just feeling his presence was enough to put her over the edge.
The last thing she needed was to come face-to-face with his piercing blue eyes, the clean-shaven skin of his firm jawline and those lips that she wanted, needed, all over her.
Instead, she focused on the boxes. “These ones need to come down,” Andrea said, pointing to two clear plastic crates and a smaller cardboard box.
Seth piled the smaller box on top of one of the crates, then turned toward the stairs.
He’d rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and the thick rods of muscles on his forearms strained as he hauled the boxes toward the staircase.
She allowed herself a moment to take in the alluring gorgeous man in her home, moving her boxes, about to help her decorate for the holidays.
The scene was so effortlessly domestic, yet the simple act of him doing it felt incredibly intimate—and, in a way, impossibly sexy.
She leaned over to pick up the third box, and an unwelcome memory of Harold suddenly popped into her mind.
Before things had turned ugly, when it was still exciting and shiny and new, and her impression of him was still of a funny, brilliant, charming and handsome man, Harold had visited her place.
She remembered seeing him take in her living space at the condo, an older building with high ceilings, original crown moldings where she’d lived for the past seven years.
“Who knows,” Harold had said, flashing her that charming grin she knew had charmed so many people, “maybe one day you’ll be packing your things and moving over to mine.”
The idea that he felt so positive about their future was thrilling, but at the same time, she remembered being irked that he’d assumed she’d be the one to move, rather than him.
His place was bigger, but not by much, and he’d done nothing to make it his own other than put his clothes in his drawers and a few books on the shelves.
Everything else had been furnished by the museum.
Her place, on the other hand, was closer to the museum, and had been meticulously decorated over the years, with a great deal of thought put into each and every item.
She’d agonized between the paint chips bearing Farrow & Ball’s Wimborne White and Au Lait, and every morning when she made coffee at her breakfast bar, she admired the way the soft amount of warm yellow pigment in Wimborne White made the space glow.
The custom-made velvet curtains perfectly complemented her juniper yard-dyed sectional, and the Eames chair and ottoman set she’d found at an estate sale tied the modern but homey space together.
She loved coming home to her condo, and the idea of moving into Harold’s impersonal space just felt wrong.
It should have been a red flag. But like the other small moments that prickled at the back of her neck, present but able to be ignored, Andrea had instead chosen to focus on the interesting conversations they had about their work, the impromptu flowers and gifts that would appear on her desk or at the door of her condo and the feeling of being on the arm of the man that so many admired.
Power couple, she heard one of the board members say at the yearly fundraiser where they’d finally made their relationship public.
Why hadn’t she trusted that internal mechanism that was there to defend her? She knew enough about evolution to understand that the body had protective instincts, and to ignore them was at your own peril.
What was she to make of this supercharged attraction she felt for Seth Taylor? She followed him down the attic stairs, then the staircase back to the main floor, arms full of supplies that would provide at the most an hour of distraction. And then what?
“It’s still really coming down,” Andrea said, looking out the window.
The reality of the evening was settling in.
Even if it stopped snowing, there was already at least a foot of snow on the ground, and the town’s few municipal plows wouldn’t be out this way for some time.
Seth wasn’t going anywhere. “Listen,” she continued.
“Like I said, the guest rooms aren’t fancy, but a couple of them are furnished.
I can put some sheets on the bed. I don’t think you should be driving anywhere tonight. ”
Seth joined her at the window. Just the feeling of having him one foot away was knee-weakening. And now he was staying for the night?
She looked over to see him scanning the thick snow falling outside the window. His SUV had only been parked for thirty minutes, and already it was covered in a thick blanket of snow.
“You sure?” said Seth.
“Of course,” said Andrea, doing her best to sound breezy. Natural.
Seth looked down at his button-up shirt and dress pants. “I’ve got some jeans and a sweater I might grab out of the car,” he said. “I always keep a few changes of clothes in there. With my job, it’s hard to know when you’ll be going from business to casual to work clothes.”
“Or if you’re going to be snowed in at a ranch an hour and a half from home,” Andrea said.
“Exactly,” said Seth, a glint in his eyes. “Always have to be prepared.”
He grabbed his keys off the front desk and slid on his boots. “I’ll be right back.”
Andrea watched from the door as Seth trudged through the snow, holding one arm up to block the blowing snow from his eyes.
“Holy hell,” he said, stomping the snow from his boots before reentering. “That’s some blizzard.” He held up a small duffel bag. “Mind if I get changed?”
“Sure,” Andrea said. “Any of the rooms on the second floor.”
Seth disappeared up the stairs, leaving Andrea with the boxes of ornaments. She opened the first one and pulled out a string of colorful lights, listening as a door closed upstairs, then footsteps sounded in the room right overhead.
So Seth was spending the night. Andrea shivered involuntarily, not from the frosty breeze that had entered when Seth went outside, but with the knowledge that he was going to be under the same roof for the next several hours.
She glanced at her watch. It was already after ten o’clock.
They’d put some of the decorations out, then Andrea would get some clean sheets from the closet and make him a bed, then retire to her own room at the back of the ranch, down the hallway off the kitchen.
There would be an entire floor and many feet between them, but something told Andrea that falling asleep was going to be much more challenging knowing Seth was so close by.
“Alright, I’m ready to be put to work.” Andrea looked up to see Seth, in a pair of blue jeans and light gray long-sleeve shirt, the fabric showcasing the sharp cut of his pecs, and the triceps that were likely developed over years of working on the farm.
“Ah, okay,” Andrea said, pulling the rest of the bulbs from the box. “Mind plugging these in to see if they work?” She pulled a couple of boxes of spare light bulbs from the box. “Some of them might need replacing.”
“Sure thing,” Seth said. “These look vintage.”
Andrea gave him a pursed lip smile. “My parents bought them the first Christmas after they got married,” she said.
“Same with most of these ornaments.” She pulled one from the box, a small Smurf figurine wearing a toque and ice skates.
“Not that they’ll all make it onto the tree,” she said.
“I think I’m going for a more…refined tree than the one I had growing up. ”
Seth raised an eyebrow. “Give me a tree with personality any day,” he said. “The ones we had growing up were all color coordinated with the rooms they were in.”
“The ones?” Andrea said. “You had more than one tree? How many did you have?”