Page 56 of Love Under Snowfall

“Nothing.”

“Fine.” She cleared her throat. “There’s still half the bag left. If you want.”

“Thanks, I think I will.” It was probably wise to wash the desperation off with lukewarm water before the day was out.

He waited for the bedroom door to click shut before he stripped his shirt and pants off and strode to the shower. He’d been right. The chill of the former closet, paired with the tepid spray from the handheld nozzle, washed all excess testosterone down the drain. The increasing frigid flow made his lust more manageable.

Peeking his head outside the door to ensure the coast was clear, he snatched the miniature swatch of fabric these cabin owners passed off as towels and tucked it around his waist. He moved carefully in his bare feet across the hardwood toward the wood stove, where his clothes were neatly folded. Despite the brisk nature of the shower, he felt much improved.

Clearheaded.

Even though he’d shared a kiss with Francesca the night before, he sensed a renewed assurance that it wouldn’t happen again. They’d make it out the next day and be able to put this whole series of unfortunate events behind them.

Chapter thirty

Frankie

“Is everybody decent?” Frankie called from the cracked bedroom door. She’d listened to her roomie’s shower progression through the thin slab of wood. Convincing herself that it was to ensure his privacy by not exiting the room until he was fully clothed did little to quell the shame she felt as she imagined what a sight that man would be.

Under a stream of water.

Naked.

She quivered at the thought and tried to focus on something unrelated to the stodgy professor in the other room.

“You’re in the clear, Miss Miller.” She could hear the smirk in his voice and assumed the rinse-off must have done him some good too.

Benjamin poured hot water from the kettle into a pair of mugs on the small table. He wore a one-sided grin that prominently displayed one of those mischievous dimples. A couple locks of still-damp hair hung over his forehead in stark contrast to his typical structured coif. Frankie imagined running her hands through the apparent silkiness and grabbing hold for leverage.

Benjamin glanced up for the first time after replacing the kettle on the stove, perusing her from towel-wrapped hair to cherry red toenails, eyes snagging briefly on the spaghetti straps of her undershirt. Her cheeks flushed under his appraisal, and thenshe forced herself back into a manufactured aloofness.

“I thought a nightcap might be,” he searched for the right word, settling for “relaxing.”

After their heavy discussion, no doubt he felt just as emotionally drained as she did—if not more. Frankie hadn’t anticipated the tragedy of Benjamin’s broken family. He’d embodied pretension, and she’d just assumed he came from money. A long lineage of “superior” men with fancy degrees and lifetime yacht club memberships. She hadn’t been all that wrong. He had gotten his start in life under those parameters. But the unexpected—and from how he described it—sudden upheaval of his world would have cut deep, changing his entire view of the world in more ways than one.

Marriage is the most asinine institution ever created.

It has the capability to destroy people.

Honestly, Frankie wasn’t sure about the whole marriage thing either. The complete inverse of Benjamin, her start had been rough. She’d learned quickly not to trust people in general. And while the Millers—whom she’d considered Mom and Dad since she was nearly eight—helped to restore her faith in a handful of people, that consideration didn’t expand far beyond their immediate unit.

She perched in one of the chairs and inhaled the herbal fumes of her tea as Benjamin sat opposite her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He watched with eagle-eye sharpness as Frankie tugged the towel from her head, allowing damp waves to fall about her shoulders. She hung the cloth over the back of her chair to dry then proceeded to finger comb the tangles, doing her very best to disregard the laser beam focus coming from her temporary roommate.

“Can I help you?” she clipped, breaking the spell more for her sake than his.

“Apologies.” He blinked rapidly but continued to analyze her from across the little table. “I can’t help but wonder something.”

Oh hell, this ought to be good.

“Shoot.”

“Johnny hasn’t really told me about the before years leading up to the adoption.”

Frankie stiffened. “I’m not surprised by that.”

“Why not?”

---