Page 35 of Snowed In with Benefits

“Maybe a couple,” I tell him with a shrug. “I didn’t quite get the shots I was hoping for, but I think I got one of Beau negotiating with the deer.”

Hunter snorts a laugh. “One of these days, he’s going to negotiate with the wrong animal and get himself killed. I saw your camera upstairs. It looks expensive. Do you do it professionally?”

His question makes me laugh. “Oh, no. It’s just a hobby.”

I’m quiet for a moment and he watches me silently, inviting me to fill the empty air with my thoughts. I smile uncomfortably and shrug.

“Okay, maybe it’s a serious hobby. I might have wanted it to be more than a hobby at one point, but that sort of…” I trail off, searching for words.

“Is it something I can blame your ex for?” he asks almost gleefully.

I chuckle at that, feeling myself relax. “If you like. I’m honestly not sure if it’s accurate or not. Preston, he’s… he’s really well-off. When we got engaged, he convinced me to quit my catering job since he made enough to take care of both of us, and because none of his friends’ spouses worked lower-waged jobs. I didn’t want to embarrass him, so I quit. At that point, I figured I’d have the time to get serious about my photography.”

He dips a spoon into the pot to taste it, then looks at me. “Did you?”

I shake my head. “No. Somehow, all the time I was saving by not being at work was being spent before I could count it.”

“Spent on what?”

I think this is the first time I’ve truly examined what happened to my photography plans. I tilt my head, thinking. “Dinner parties. Preston’s events, Preston’s family, Preston’s friends… just Preston’s stuff.” The reality of that sits like a weight in my chest.

Hunter frowns at that, and I realize that I’m frowning a little bit too. I force a smile and try to brush the feeling off. I’m just now beginning to realize how much of myself I put aside for the sake of Preston’s social life.

I hear heavy footsteps behind me and I turn to find Emmett giving me a hard look. Goosebumps spread over my skin under the force of his gaze. I have no idea what he thinks of me, but every time he looks directly at me I feel like his eyes are trying to bore holes directly into my soul.

Beau follows behind and we make eye contact. His dark brown eyes smolder and his muscles tighten and shift under his shirt. My breath catches in my throat as the memory of what he looks like under those clothes floods my brain. He holds the gaze for just a heartbeat too long, then turns away.

Clearly, he’s decided to ignore what happened before.

Tension and silence stretch out in the room for a moment. Then Hunter drops the pot lid on the floor and curses.

“Well, don’t do that,” Emmett grumbles.

“Smooth move,” Beau says.

“Gee, thanks for all your support, guys.” Sarcasm drips from Hunter’s lips. “Sit down, soup’s on.”

Beau snorts. “On what? The floor?”

Hunter gives him a look… well, he tries, anyway. His glasses are fogged up again. Laughing, relieved that the tension is broken, I sit down at the table with the other two. Hunter ladles whatever is in the pot into four beautifully carved wooden bowls and carefully places those bowls on the table.

My mouth is already watering. “This smells delicious. What is it?” I look down at the creamy green thickness in my bowl, wanting to poke at the pink and white bits.

“Split pea soup… well, more like a split pea stew, but that doesn’t quite roll off the tongue, does it?” Hunter grins at me as he takes his seat.

I take a bite and flavor explodes in my mouth. I’ve never had a split pea soup that didn’t taste like salty baby food. This… this is on a whole other level. I settle in with a contented sigh. Now that I’ve explained myself to Hunter, I feel better about life, the universe, and everything. The pea stew is also helping. A lot.

“How did clearing the barn go?” I ask between spoonfuls. “I heard you say something to Emmett about him almost killing himself?”

Hunter shakes his head. “If he’d gone out there alone, he could have killed himself. There’s a soggy bit in the middle of the roof. Or, there was. We got it cleared off and shored up. Don’t know if the carpet is going to survive the experience, though.”

I look at him, puzzled. “You have a carpet in your barn?”

Emmett snorts and I suppress the urge to stick my tongue out at him. Snort yourself, lumberjack, it’s a valid question.

Hunter grins. “Yes and no. There’s a little apartment out there, that’s what’s carpeted.” He pauses, looking slightly worried. “Don’t think we didn’t think about giving that to you for the sake of your privacy. It’s poorly insulated, has a tiny woodstove, and is basically a refrigerator in the winter. Otherwise you would have been more than welcome.”

“With a soggy, sagging roof? I’d rather be back on the couch,” I tease gently, trying to put his mind at ease. “It looks like a lot of work to keep this place up and running, especially in the winter.”