Page 2 of Party Crasher
I bristle at his presumption. But before I can respond, he's already making himself at home and kicking off his shoes.
“Yeah, I’m going to put some wood on that embarrassing excuse for a fire you’ve got going. It could use a little help.” He winks at me, then bites back a laugh at his own joke. Then Cade gets to work arranging the fire.
2
JOSIE
An hour has passed,and I don't know whether to be offended or charmed. I haven't seen this man in a decade, yet he moves through my cabin like he owns the place. He's studied the stitching on our stockings. He’s examined every homemade ornament on the tree.
Somehow, he’s made himself completely at home and done it all while looking like some kind of football god. Of course, he'd waltz in here and immediately take charge. Some things never change. Cade’s only been here for a little while, and it’s thrown my holiday vibes for a loop.
“Hey, can you grab us some refreshments?” He yells from the fireplace, where he's been coaxing the flames even higher. “Do you have anything herbal?”
My mind immediately jumps to tabloid headlines about athletes and substances. “Are you kidding me? Drugs? Cade, this isn't Hollywood. I could lose my nursing license?—”
He stops mid-poker-prod and stares at me like I've grown a second head. “Tea, Josie. Herbal tea.” He shakes his head, fighting back a grin. “You really haven't changed since high school.”
Heat floods my cheeks. That’s me. I've been here doing the same thing since high school. “Oh, right. Tea. Of course.”
“What do I owe you for the hospitality?” He settles onto the tiny couch.
I roll my eyes at him and then busy myself in the kitchen. "That’s weird, don’t make it weird. You don't owe me anything. It's called being neighborly.”
“Come on.” His voice carries a cynical edge I don't remember. “Everyone wants something.”
I pause and look back into the living room, studying his face. There's something harder there now, more guarded. I think he’s actually serious. “Not everyone. Some of us are still just out here being decent people.”
“You’ve gotta get out of Deadwood a little more often.”
I ignore his rant and make two mugs of tea. There’s a whole lot of charm wrapped up in that grumpy package. To be honest, I’m grateful for something to do with my hands besides imagine what all that muscle would feel like under my palms.
Through the small kitchen window, the snow is coming down in thick, heavy flakes. They’re the kind that mean business. The weather service has been calling for a major storm, but I hadn't expected it to literally deliver Cade McAllister to my door. From the looks of it, he won’t be leaving today.
"Sugar.” His voice comes through the open doorway.
It sends an unwelcome heat curling through my belly.Sweetheart was bad enough…now he’s calling me sugar?No. What kind of feminist would I be if I let this happen?“Excuse me?”
“I need sugar for the tea, please.”
“Right, no problem.”
When I return to the living room with a full holiday tea service, the fire is roaring. The flames fill the space with warmthand dancing light. Cade’s moved to the mantel. He’s studying a photo of Katie and me from a childhood Christmas. There’s a smile on his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
There's something different about Cade now. It’s an invisible weight that wasn't there in high school. He's always been confident, but back then, it came with pure joy. That lightness in him has dimmed. It’s been replaced by something more guarded. It’s easy to recognize because that same weight is how I ended up here. In a cabin. Alone,insisting I can create my own merry little Christmas.
I hand him the tea, and our fingers brush for just a second. The contact sends an unwelcome zing up my arm. But I let myself off the hook for my reaction on account of my being seven Hallmark Christmas movies into my cabin staycation.
I glance up and he’s taking a sip. Cade studies me over the rim of the mug. Those eyes are darker now. They’re more intense, and I feel like he's seeing straight through me. But I’m sure there’s not a woman in the world who hasn’t had this reaction to Cade McAllister. It’s what he does. I’d be crazy not to feel something with his eyes trained on me like that.
"So what brings you back to our little slice of nowhere?" I settle onto the opposite end of the couch and tuck my legs under me. The movement makes my sweater ride up slightly. I might be imagining it, but I swear his gaze drops to the exposed skin of my hip before snapping back to my face.
"Visiting my brother and his boys for Christmas. I’m normally not big on holidays, but I’ve got a whole trunk full of the best toys money can buy. Each one is sure to piss Creed off more than the last. But the joke's on me because apparently sports cars don’t do well in the snow." He sets the mug on the coffee table and leans back, his long legs stretching out in front of him. The position makes his sweater pull tight across his chest, and I have to swallow hard.
I let out a strangled chuckle.
“What?” He eyes me.
“It’s just funny to think of you as not a truck man anymore.”
