Page 47 of Never In My Wildest Dreams

But then, she remembered she had fourteen Grammys and millions of fans around the world. And that happened because she’d worked her ass off and became really good at her job.

I took music and singing lessons. I went to songwriting camps.

I’m proud of myself. And if some man with a nice jawline and a cashmere sweater doesn’t think I’m all-that, then that’s just not my problem.

It was only after her empowerment speech wound down that she noticed his leather duffel bag by the door. She glanced out the window and saw snow flying. She watched him shovel, moving fast, methodically, and he was just so…masculine. So strong. His wool cap was pulled over his ears, and his hands were covered in big, thick gloves. She wanted to tell him to come in. It was too cold to be out there, but she wasn’t his mother.

He wouldn’t want me telling him what to do.

Still, she watched him for a moment. He was working hard, almost furiously, and she couldn’t help wondering if he was working through some sexual tension.

I’ve got a better idea.

He could apply all that furious effort to her body. Ooh, she could just imagine his features red from exertion, his skin gleaming with sweat, as he pounded into her, giving her the powerful thrusts she never knew she craved until right this minute.

Her blood went hot. Lust pulsed in her core.This is not good.

Especially when his issues probably had nothing to do with her. This man had a life—and a job—that was under siege. He probably dealt with his problems by working out. Since he didn’t have a gym, he was shoveling snow.

He might be a revelation for her, but he wasn’t the one discovering his sexual side.

Maybeshewas the one who needed to work off some pent-up energy.

She trudged back into the bedroom and peeled off her leggings and sweatshirt. In the closet, she changed into her blue ski pants, thermal undershirt, and fleece jacket. She grabbed wool socks out of the dresser drawer, pulled a scarf off the hook, and pulled on the beanie with the pink fur ball on top. Then, she covered her hands in gloves and went to grab her parka from the closet by the back door.

But when she stepped outside, the cold cut right through every layer as if she wore nothing but a nightshirt. Her cheeks burned. How could he stand it out here? What was he even shoveling? A path from the shed to the road?

Boy, he really wanted to get out of here.

And that pissed her off.Here I am fantasizing about this man, and he’s chewing off his arm to get away from me.

She grabbed a handful of snow, packed it, and then hurled it at the back of his head. It missed, of course. No surprise there. So, she moved closer. While his shovel scraped and heaved, she formed a bunch of icy projectiles and set them on top of a snowdrift. Once she had a good supply, she started lobbing them.Dammit.She kept missing. She crept closer, and finally, the fourth one hit the back of his head, exploding in a spray of glittery white crystals.

She dropped, clapping her hand over her mouth to suppress her laughter.

When she rose high enough to peer at him, she found him looking around. He didn’t see anyone, so he went back to work. In a rush of energy, she tossed another one. This one landed between his shoulder blades. She grinned so wide her cheeks hurt.

He slammed the shovel into the snow and surveyed the area. “Hellcat, if I were you, I’d head back inside. You don’t want to get into a snowball fight with a former hockey player.”

She popped up and lobbed another one. It hit his chin, exploding on impact, leaving crystals on his eyelashes and scruff. She ducked down again, waiting.

Should I go back inside?

How mean could he be?

Her body buzzed with excitement, and she didn’t want to make a move until she knew he’d gone back to work. After a few moments, she heard the scrape of the shovel, so she knew it was safe. He’d given up. Slowly, she stood.

Slick whipped around, releasing a snowball that hit her square in the face. She shrieked. “What are you, a ninja?” Quickly, she grabbed more from her pile and threw, but she was no match for his precision. One after another, the chilly missiles came hard and fast, completely overwhelming her.

She fought back, but her aim wasn’t nearly as good. Also, she’d run out of stock, so all she could do was grab handfuls of snow and toss them as he made a relentless march toward her. Snow stuck to her eyelashes, her hair, her face, and her clothes, and she’d never felt more exhilarated.

“Wait, wait. Time out.” She held one hand on top of the other in a T-shape. Still, a ball hit her forehead. “Are you nuts? This isn’t a death sport. It’s a friendly snowball fight—” Another slammed her right in the mouth. “This is what happens when you don’t have siblings. You don’t know how to play. Stop.” She was gasping for air, laughing too hard to speak.

And then, he came up to her. “You just said it was a fight.”

“A friendly one. It’s supposed to be playful.”

“Playful, huh?” He pretended to think about it, like the concept of play was a revelation. “Okay, so, you’ll stop, too, right?” He had a wicked gleam in his eyes, so she knew not to trust him.

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