Page 10 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

B.S.

Initials? I squinted and stepped closer.

Yes, it said B.S.

I started giggling as I ran my hand over the inscription on the metal.

Suddenly, the door opened before I could step back.

I gasped. “Oh!” I stepped back, recovering my breath as I stared at the man before me. My eyes fell to his body first, clad in black shorts and a loose blue T-shirt. His calves were nicely rounded, and my appreciative gaze found his hand, which had no wedding ring. “Uh, hi. Hello! I wanted to—”

My eyes met his and widened as my mouth fell open. “You—” Clamping my hand over my mouth, I stared at him and then squeezed my eyes shut. This can’t be. Itcan’tbe—

“What are you doing on my porch?” came a familiar voice, sounding rough from lack of use.

“I …” I stared at his icy blue eyes framed by thick lashes and a face that—well, it could be beautiful if it wasn’t permanently grumpy. RGF. Resting grump face. My mind raced as I tried to remember details about the wedding reception when we’d talked. I’d hadwaytoo much to drink, but I remembered most of it. He’d taken an instant dislike to me, which was odd because most people liked me. I was sonotan arrogant type, but I tended to make a good first impression with people. I’d been told I had some kind of natural charisma. Or maybe I’d just spent too much of my youth trying to please others, so it became a skill. I frowned at this thought, first suggested by a counselor during college.

The man cleared his throat.

I pasted on a smile. “Hello, Pete. Welcome to the neighborhood?” I hadn’t intended that to sound like a question, but … what the hell? What washedoinghere?

A muscle tensed in his cheek. “Peter.”

“Oh, uh … OK. Peter. So, you’re moving in here …”

His eyes gave away nothing as he stared at me. “Clearly.”

I bit my lip. “So that means we’ll be—” I tried not to flinch. “We’ll be neighbors? I live—” I stopped, pointing vaguely in the direction of my house. “There. I mean, I live next door. Ergo, neighbors.”

Did I just sayergo? For the first time in my life.

His face remained completely devoid of any expression. “It appears so.”

His hair was wet. I remembered it had looked light brown last time, but the water made it look dark. Oh wow, he must have just showered, given the wet hair and what looked like possibly pajamas. His feet were clad in dark slippers. I swallowed as my eyes took in his muscular legs again, and I wondered—

He cleared his throat again, interrupting my reverie. “Again, what are you doing on my porch?”

My eyes flew to his, and my face was on fire when I realized I’d been caught checking him out. Crap. No, I was just … sizing him up. Yeah, because he was an enemy?

No, I couldn’t think that way. If we were neighbors now—neighbors!—we’d need to get along. I’d need to make some effort. Even if he didn’t appreciate it at first. I forced my lips to curve upward. “I wanted to welcome my new neighbor. I brought a welcome gift …” I pointed at the oversized goodie basket sitting on the porch floor next to me. “I didn’t know my neighbor would beyou.”

One eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly as the rest of his face remained stoic. “Is that a problem?”

My brows furrowed for a moment. “No, I didn’t mean that. I just—I was surprised, that’s all. What are the odds, you know? I thought you were doing some bigwig job in Chicago.”

He put his hands in his shorts pockets. “I was.”

“Oh.” Well, he didn’t want to share much—that was fine. I didn’t care anyway. “Anyway, I’m a bit of a baker. So I brought cookies and brownies to welcome the new neighbors. I baked quite a lot, not knowing if a big family was moving in ...” I tried to look past him but could see very little. “Is it just you, or—”

“Yes.”

I swallowed, feeling frustration rising. He didn’t like to talk, that much was clear. I managed to offer another smile, though it was almost physically painful. “So, welcome to Shipsvold, I guess. It’s just me, you, and Doris across the street. No one else for a half-mile or so. And Doris is retired, so she’s left for the winter. You won’t meet her March, or maybe even April. So, you’re stuck with just me. I hope you like baked goods! I mean, who doesn’t, right?”

Dammit, I was rambling. Why did I always ramble in his presence? Apparently even when sober. If anything, I shouldkeep things brief, like he did. But for some reason, his silence caused me to want to spew every thought.

He looked at the basket doubtfully, and then his eyes swept over me, stopping briefly on my midsection.

I glanced down and groaned. With flour everywhere, I looked like a powdered donut. Changing my clothes hadn’t even occurred to me before I raced over here. I wondered if I also smelled like smoke from earlier. Shaking my head, I cursed my carelessness. So much for good impressions. “I mean, if you don’t want them, I’ll try not to be too offended. But just so you know, they’re delicious. I’ve never had any complaints.”

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