Page 24 of Snow Much Trouble
“One: No thermostat adjusting.”
I make a face. “It’s just for now,” I promise, crossing my fingers behind my back.
“Two: No crossing your fingers behind your back when you make promises.”
That makes me laugh. “How did you know I was doing that?”
“Easy. I’ve been with you for twenty-four hours almost and you’ve never put both of your hands behind your back at the same time. It’s very…noticeable.” He makes a gesture to my chest with the spatula.
I think that’s a compliment. Or at the very least confirmation he’s noticed me. But I refuse to give up my stance.
“Dylan,” I say sternly.
“What? It’s true, I can’t help it! And you seem like the finger-crossing-kind-of-girl who doesn’t take rules all that seriously to begin with. You’re a loophole girl.”
“How dare you,” I show in faux outrage. “I’m atmosta workaround kind of girl. Absolutelynevera loophole girl.”
Dylan grins at me. “Good to know. And here I was worried I was attracted to a loophole girl.”
For some reason that flusters me. I never get flustered. It’s my golden rule. Speaking of rules…
“What is rule number four?” I demand.
“That whoever breaks rule number three must agree to a punishment.”
I can’t tell if he’s serious or not. Well, I’m certain he’s not serious but how not serious is he? That’s the question.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I bite. “What is the punishment?”
The lights flicker. I forget all about being punished.
I actually jump. “Shit, is the power out again?”
“The lights are still on.” Dylan points to the stove. “Stove still on, see the coils?”
He’s not even being sarcastic. He’s clearly trying to be reassuring. I still feel instantly ridiculous. “Oh. Right. Good. Great. Lights on, lights off. Lights on. We’re good.” I walk out of the kitchen, my cheeks feeling unmistakably warm.
Dear God, am I blushing? I haven’t blushed since middle school.
I pet Buck on the antlers, needing to touch something.
“Hey,” Dylan says, moving up behind me. “You okay?”
I nod, my throat too tight to talk.
“Let go of the reindeer. It’s not a life jacket and we’re not lost at sea.”
Dylan turns me around, gently.
Easy for him to say.
I actually feel like I’m drowning in his green eyes.
I instantly have a whole verse in my head for my Christmas song and it involves being snowbound with a man who is trouble.
It’s very country.
It’s very accurate.
