Page 11 of Snowed In with Benefits

I frown at her, confused. What does she mean, what do I mean? She shrinks into herself and I make the frown go away. I forget how I look to other people. I never have to think about it these days, and I like it that way.

“I mean, it snowed all night. It’s piled against the door. You’re not going to get it open.”

I hear the boys moving around upstairs. It’s about damn time.

“What… you mean we’re… are we trapped in here?” She’s panicking. I don’t like panicky people. I don’t like people, but the panic really puts it over the edge. I need her to stop panicking.

I chuckle. That seems to stop her spiral. She looks at me, curious. One of the boys is coming downstairs.

“No, we’re not trapped. We can shovel out a path. We don’t just sit here and starve to death in the winter, locked inside.”

She looks relieved. “So, I can leave, then? Once you… or somebody… shovels?”

Beau scoffs. Must have been him coming downstairs. I hear Hunter at the top of the stairs now, making his way down.

I take a breath. She’s not trying to be irritatingly dumb, she’s just a city girl in a situation she’s never been in before. I blow it out and shake my head. “Your car is covered in snow.”

“We can shovel that, too⁠—”

“And the roads are impassable.”

She stops talking, recoiling like I’ve slapped her. “But… how do you know?” Her voice is small, but demanding.

I sigh. “Early December storms are rough out here. Snow piles up quick and doesn’t melt. There aren’t many people up this way, so clearing these roads is a low priority for the county. Even if it has stopped snowing, it’s going to be days before you can go anywhere.”

I hate that idea. I don’t want her here. I don’t want to deal with her, or the effect she’ll have on the boys, or the effect that she’s already had on me. I can brush off the sexual tension I felt upstairs, but I can’t chuck the memory of it.

I can tell by the way she’s looking between the three of us that she hates the idea too.

She swallows hard, again. “So… so I am stuck here.”

There’s a beat of silence as I look from her to Beau to Hunter. I don’t know how this is going to go, but I’ve never been one to deny the truth. “Yes, you’re stuck here, city girl.”

She bares her teeth at the nickname. It just slipped out, but I’ll stand by it.

“Thanks, lumberjack,” she hisses sarcastically.

I can’t help but chuckle at that. It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever been called. It’s probably one of the best, to be honest.

Josie crinkles her smooth brow and turns those big brown eyes at Hunter. He might be the charismatic one around here, but charisma don’t control the weather.

“Sorry, hon,” he says, smooth as butter. I admire his skills, but I don’t envy him for them. I’d rather have people avoid me than be able to sweet talk them. “There’s really no way to get down the mountain right now.”

Her shoulders slump slightly. Not enough to make me think she’s putting it on, but enough that I can almost sympathize with her. Trust me, city girl, I don’t want you here any more than you want to be here. I’m not going to tell her that. I’m blunt and I’m honest, but I know when to hold my tongue. She’s obviously miserable.

“But… what am I going to do?” Her voice sounds small again, the fire of sarcasm passing quickly. It makes me wonder what’s underneath all the shimmer and weepiness. What is she like when she’s not in the middle of a crisis?

It’s the opposite of the question I usually ask. I want to know who people are when they are in the middle of a crisis, assuming I want to know anything about them at all. She seems so scattered. Fiery one moment, small and helpless the next. Storming out naked into the bitter cold one moment, wrapped up in silk and satin the next. She confuses me.

I don’t like being confused.

Hunter steps forward, smiling at her with that easy charm of his. “You’re going to keep crashing with us,” he says gently. “You’re welcome to keep crashing on the couch for as long as you need to.”

“No!” Beau interrupts, shocking all of us.

“No?” Hunter asks, his voice dangerously mild.

Beau’s ears turn red the way they do when he’s violently uncomfortable. He grunts, shifting his weight on his feet, looking back and forth between me and Hunter. He’s completely avoiding looking at the woman by the door.