Page 94 of Snowed In with Benefits

“Then make me new ones,” I say.

He laughs. Hunter is already heading back to the kitchen. Emmett is still at the window, watching the empty driveway with his arms crossed, making sure. When he’s satisfied that Preston is really gone, he turns and looks at me. He doesn’t say anything. He just nods once, slow and sure, and follows his brothers into the kitchen.

I stay at the window for one more second. The snow is clean. The driveway is empty. The cabin smells like coffee and bacon and woodsmoke, and somewhere behind me I can hear Beau arguing with Hunter about whether pancake batter goes bad if you leave it out. I touch my locket. My grandmother’s ring is still in there, warm against my chest.

I turn away from the window and go eat breakfast with my men.

36

JOSIE

It’s been a couple of days since Preston left. I wake up early, earlier than even Hunter, and head downstairs. First one up makes the coffee, and that’s me this morning. A week ago, I would have sat in my room and waited for somebody else to make the coffee, afraid of stepping on toes. Today, I’m not worried about it. I know their routines and they know mine, and nobody is tiptoeing around anybody else. It’s comfortable, more comfortable than anything I can remember.

Hunter comes in, tousled from sleep, and starts making breakfast on autopilot while I brew the coffee. Emmett comes in from outside, stomping snow off his boots. He must have had something to do that was more important than coffee. Beau pulls down plates and coffee cups, getting things ready for Hunter to serve up.

The coffee is finished. I pour a cup of black coffee for Emmett and hand it to him. I make one with cream and sugar for Hunter, putting it on the counter beside the stove where he can reach it easily. Beau is patiently waiting for me to finish. He makes his own coffee, because his tastes change from day to day. I think it’s his way of reclaiming variety after three years of sameness. I finish fixing my own coffee.

Rather than sit down and wait for breakfast, I go to the window. I left my camera on the counter last night and the light is bright and sparkly this morning. I take in the world outside and notice some movement by the fence line. I watch for a moment before realizing that it’s a pair of foxes, tumbling over each other, playing in the snow. I put my coffee cup down.

“Beau,” I say in a whisper, as if my voice will break the spell. I gesture for him to come over and he does, looking out the window in the direction I’m pointing.

He looks, and his whole face changes. It softens in the way it only does when he’s dealing with animals. It’s open, honest, unguarded. He’s beautiful when he looks like that. We watch the foxes together for a moment before I remember my camera. I pick it up, zoom in, and start taking pictures through the glass.

“What are you two looking at?” Hunter asks. He comes over, not waiting for a response. “Aww, cute.”

Emmett wanders over too, not about to be left out when we’re all focused on the same thing. He grunts, sounding amused.

“They’re a pair,” Beau says softly. “This time of year, foxes pair up for the winter. That chasing and tumbling is them courting.” He grins. “We’ll probably see some kits in the spring.”

“Our very own Disney princess,” Hunter says, slapping Beau on the back. “Next thing you know, you’ll be out there singing and dancing and talking to the animals.”

I laugh at that, but I don’t disagree. I think if Beau was up here alone, that’s exactly what he would be doing. We watch them for a while longer before the foxes slip back through the fence and into the trees.

Sighing happily, I sit down to the breakfast that Hunter served while I was watching the foxes. I can’t stop grinning.

“Do we have a fox fan over here?” Hunter asks, winking at me.

“It was just so magical,” I say with a little sigh. “Nothing like that ever happened in Seattle, that’s for sure.”

Beau grins at me and happily digs into his food. Emmett is watching me with his gray eyes twinkling. Hunter gets that look on his face that he gets when he’s thinking about something and he’d rather be thinking about something else.

I sit there for a moment, just feeling it. The warmth of the coffee in my hands, the sound of forks on plates, the easy silence between four people who don’t need to fill it. Nobody told me I was being silly for whispering at a fox. Nobody checked their phone while I was pointing at the window. They just came over and stood with me and watched, like my wonder was worth sharing. I’ve never had that before. Preston would have glanced up, said “neat,” and gone back to his emails. His mother would have told me foxes carry diseases. But these three stood at the window with me until the foxes were gone, and Beau told me what the mother was teaching them, and Hunter made me laugh, and Emmett was just there, solid and warm and present. I didn’t know mornings could hold this much.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask Hunter. He still has that look.

He gestures with his fork in the general direction of the barn. “The awning is coming apart. I noticed it the other day when I brought what’s-his-face back there. It’s about ready to fall down on someone’s head.”

“We could just take it down,” Beau suggests.

Emmett shakes his head. “Barn needs the awning. We’ll fix it.”

“It’s going to take all three of us most of the day to do that,” Hunter points out.

“Four of us,” I correct him. “I’m helping.”

He grins at me. “I can’t wait to see that.” There’s nothing mocking in his tone, although his words are ambiguous. I think he really can’t wait for me to be a part of their crew for something like this. I smile back at him happily, pleased to be included without a fuss.

“Just tell me what to do,” I say, looking each of them in the eye in turn. “Remember that I’m a city girl and I don’t know what I’m doing.”