Page 10 of Catch Yourself a Snowmance
“Don’t all women eat?”
“Some don’t. Some are so concerned with their weight they act like anything outside a salad bar is a crime.”
“True. That’s sad. I love food.” She giggles nervously, but it doesn’t seem like she’s embarrassed.
“So …” I look over at her.
“Okay.” She rubs her hands. “I love warm cookies. Especially plain, old-fashioned, chocolate chip, and the kind of cupcake that’s so moist you can’t imagine how they baked it so well—with the perfect buttercream frosting. And I love a good steak and potatoes. I’d rather have salty snacks than sweet. Popcorn … chips … pretzels. Oh! Those honey mustard onion ones. Those things make me glad I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. You know. They aren’t the kindest to your breath.”
“Well, the way I figure it, if you and your boyfriend eat the same thing, it cancels out in the kiss.”
“You would think so. But … it must have been a while since you’ve kissed someone who ate honey mustard and onion pretzels.”
I chuckle. “It’s been a while, yes.”
“Okay. Your turn,” she says, effectively shifting the topic while turning slightly toward me with a little bounce.
“I’m pretty happy with the menu you chose. I’d add pancakes. Fluffy, right off the griddle with some good syrup. And I’m a sucker for ice cream.”
“What flavor?”
“Pretty much any. But I love chocolate chip.”
“Okay,” she says, taking over for me. “Vacation spot …”
I pause, look at her, and I don’t know what comes over me. The pines line the road and the secluded feel of the mountain town surrounds us. Knowing we’re going back to that campy cabin with its drafty floors and the big stone fireplace that should have probably been cleaned this summer … I can’t explain the reason, but I say, “Here. Right now.”
She smiles softly. And then she surprises me by saying, “Same.”
Then she adds, “Well, here, and St. Thomas. I went there a few years ago with my sister. It was incredible.”
“Favorite Memory?” I ask as we pull onto the last stretch of road before the cabin.
“Baking with my grandma growing up. It’s not just one memory, but a scrapbook full of moments. But those were my happiest times. You?”
“Watching football with the guys. We act like savages, yelling at the TV, eating junk food. But I love that I’m a grown man with friends I can count on and just let loose with. And when we’re watching a game, it sort of brings that feeling more than any other time.”
She smiles at me. “I remember walking in on one of those testosterone fests.”
“You looked like you wanted to high tail it out of there.”
“You had Dorito dust on your shirt.”
“No!” I can feel a blush creep up my neck. “If you ever meet my sisters you can not tell them that detail. I’ll never live it down.”
She laughs hard. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Chapter 5
Alyssa
Remember, George:
No man is a failure who has friends.
