Page 17 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

I pictured him for a moment with a room full of candles as he sipped a hot drink in front of a roaring fire, satisfied thathisinsulation was in good shape. He was probably even using his phone or other device at this moment, having had the foresight to charge them before the power went out. Because he’d probably seen the weather forecast and prepared—he seemed like that kind of guy. I scowled and then squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ward off the migraine headache that I knew was building.

My eyes flew open. Maybe hewasthat kind of guy, but that wasn’t the worst thing right now. In fact, it was exactly what I needed. I could go take advantage of his warm house, at least to use his phone to find out what the hell was going on with the weather. Maybe—

No, Hazel. Forget this idea immediately.

I couldn’t, because it washim. He’d probably turn me away and laugh about it. Well, if he was the kind of guy who laughed, and he clearly wasn’t. But certainly he’d get some silent joy from telling me to get lost.

I shook my head, vowing not to eventhinkabout this idea anymore.

Chapter 6

Ishould’ve brought a shovel.

It would have been easier to take my time and shovel myself a path than to try to trudge through several feet.

Better yet, I should’ve brought a sled. Sleigh? Right, because it wasn’t totally weird to think about owning asleighas a single adult in Minnesota. Was I becoming delirious? Clearly, I wasn’t the best person to answer that.

I was deeply regretting my workout this morning. To procrastinate from writing, I’d taken advantage of my basement home gym more than usual lately. This morning’s workout was mostly legs with a bit of cardio. And now … well, now, my legs were screaming at me.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity even though our houses weren’t very far apart, I reached his large porch and trudged up the few steps. I gripped the icy railing to ensure I wouldn’t slip because the last thing I needed was for him to find me half-buried in a heap of snow near his porch.

My heart was racing as I neared the front door. Regret coursed through me as I realized this was a stupid decision, but then I thought of how difficult it had been to walk here, and I steeled my spine.

Before I could rap on the door though, the thick wooden door started opening slowly.

I stepped back, my eyes wide as I saw him appear in the doorway, behind the screen.

His eyes went wide too, a rare bit of emotional expression, as his eyes landed on mine and then scanned over me for just a moment before his face returned to its usual monotone emptiness. “Hazel?”

“Uh, hi, yes, it’s me, Hazel,” I managed to say. “Your neighbor.” Captain Obvious here. He merely blinked, his face showing no expression. “So, hi … this storm is pretty bad, right?”

He nodded slightly and furrowed his brows. “It’s dangerous. What are you doing out there?”

His deep voice held a note of anger, and I stared back at him. Was he angry at me? Seriously? Or maybe it was frustration at the whole situation, I thought generously.

“I, ah …” I stopped to remove my hat because the snow on it was dripping onto my face. But when his eyes widened again, I realized my mistake. My hair surely looked terrible under my soaked hat. Oh well, too late now. I tried to feign my usual confidence. “It’s really bad, yes. And that’s why … well, I was thinking … maybe …” And I just couldn’t make myself say it.

After a beat of silence, he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What?”

I wished I could blame my teeth chattering, but I really couldn’t. I was afraid he’d turn me away. AndthenI’d be even worse off, having to return to my houseandhaving put a massive dent in my pride.

Tell him why you came, Haz. You’ve dealt with far worse than this in your life.

I inhaled deeply, about to speak, but he beat me to it. “Do you need something from me?”

“I, uh, yes. I mean, maybe. If you want to,” I said, flashing a smile to cover my ineptitude in basic speech. “Do you have any of those cookies left, or did you eat them all?”

His eyebrows rose no more than a millimeter. “You came here to ask me about the cookies?” He shook his head. “They’re safe in the freezer.”

“Ah. Like the rest of us, am I right?” Laughing a bit too loud, I nervously smoothed my hair.

“I don’t understand,” he said flatly, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I mean, we’re all freezing because of … well, you know.” I waved my hand behind me on my right. “This terrible blizzard. Never mind, bad joke.”

His eyes bore into mine for a long moment as I tried to think of how to salvage this. Finally, he leaned his shoulder against the door and sighed. “If you came to partake of my hospitality, just say so.”

It was then I noticed the lights on behind him. Not just the dim lighting of flashlights and candles but an apparently well-lit room off the front hall. “You have electricity?”

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