Page 43 of Snowed In With the Maverick
Seth saw his out. Best to exit while his parents’ focus was on Daniel.Sorry, big bro,he thought, as he gathered his phone and keys, then stood in the entrance. “I’m going to go back out and check on things,” he said. “Then I’ll head home. From what Buck told me, the full team’ll be back tomorrow.”
“You sure you don’t want to stay for dinner, honey?” said Imogen. Part of him felt a pang of guilt like he should stay and keep his mom company. Who would want to hang out with Thaddeus all night? But the other part of him knew she was just fine. For whatever reason, the two of them worked. All the power to them.
“I ordered pizza for the guys. I should get out there and eat with them,” Seth said.
Thaddeus nodded. “Yes, you should. Got to keep things on the same level sometimes.”
Seth resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As if, even for a second, he saw himself to be above the workers that busted their asses all day to keep his family’s business going.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said, then made his way back down to the barns.
On the snowy path that led from the compound, he checked his phone to see if there was anything from Andrea. Nothing.
He’d detected a shift in energy before he left. That untethered, carefree Andrea in front of the fire during the storm was once again the slightest bit guarded. He wanted her to feel safe in his presence. Fully able to be herself. So he resisted the urge to message her. She’d reach out when she wanted to. She’d agreed to Thanksgiving dinner, which was only in a matter of days. He just wasn’t sure he’d survive not speaking to her until then.
He shook his head as he entered the barn, to find the workers sitting together at a picnic table, eating pizza and trading barbs. He accepted a slice on a napkin from Buck, then slid into a spot at the picnic table and tried his best to keep up with the conversation. But he found it impossible to keep his thoughts from turning to Andrea. The sweet scent of her hair as it hung in his face while her head was dipped, legs on either side of his body. The certainty with which she told him what she wanted. The steady, soft sound of her breathing once she’d finally slipped into a dream, and he lay luxuriating in the warmth of her soft skin under the blanket.
“You in some kind of coma?” Buck asked, waving a hand in front of his face.
“Uh, sorry,” Seth muttered, snapping back to reality. “Didn’t sleep well last night.”
Buck smirked. “Sure you didn’t.”
Seth just shook his head, a wry grin tugging at his lips. He was a goner, and it was written all over his face.
Chapter Fourteen
Andrea’s closet was practically bursting with options. Silk blouses in pretty patterns. Cashmere sweaters in creamy white, soft brown and moss green. Wrap dresses, sweater dresses. Back when she worked at the museum, there were many opportunities to dress up, not just for her day-to-day but for the numerous events she attended.
But somehow, now, nothing felt quite right as she pulled on outfit after outfit in front of her full-length mirror. All of these elegant and well-tailored pieces felt like a relic of her past, like they belonged in a different kind of museum, a place showcasing a past version of herself. A person who’d once been strong but had been brought down so unceremoniously, whose self-esteem had been so tarnished.
Now, in her new home where she existed mainly in blue jeans and cozy sweaters, she felt like a new, best version of herself.
But something told her a crewneck sweatshirt wouldn’t pass the test at the Taylor household for dinner.
She glanced at the clock. “Dammit,” she muttered. Time was running out before Seth was due to collect her for Thanksgiving dinner. She’d offered to drive, but he insisted on picking her up, and when she considered how nice it might be to have a glass of wine with dinner to calm her nerves, she’d acquiesced.
She finally settled on a slim-fitting black knit dress and a chunky gold necklace with earrings, hoping she’d fit in at the Taylor family Thanksgiving table.
It wasn’t that she’d never dined with wealthy people before. But this was Seth’s family. And while she was still feeling an itch of uncertainty about what was developing between them, she cared about making a good impression, so much so that when she smudged her eyeliner, she let out an exasperated sigh.
Andrea took a deep, steadying breath and looked at herself in the mirror. There was no reason to make this a bigger deal than it was. Part of her trepidation about this dinner was that it was very clear Seth had a complicated relationship with his family, and she was shouldering some of that. Hopefully, Daniel and Mike would be there. She liked them and felt comfortable in their presence.
It was five minutes after Seth was scheduled to pick her up when the doorbell rang. Andrea descended the stairs to the main floor and swung open the door. “I’m so sorry, I just need a few—” She stopped midsentence when she took in the sight of Seth standing with a giant bouquet of burgundy dahlias, bright yellow sunflowers and chrysanthemums in rich fall colors. His eyes were playful and smiling, and nothing about his presence indicated he was eager to get on the road.
He held out the bouquet, and her stomach did somersaults. “I thought these would look nice on the reception desk,” he said, nodding to the area where Andrea planned to welcome guests.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the bouquet. “I’ll put these in water. Want to come in for a minute? I don’t want to make us late, though.”
“Not to worry,” Seth said. “Eloise is routinely the last one to arrive. If we show up a few minutes late, we’re still in the good books.”
Andrea swallowed. The idea that they could be outside the good books was a foreign one. Her parents had always been laid-back, nonjudgmental, at least as far as she remembered.
Seth kicked off his boots and followed her to the kitchen, where she pulled a pottery urn from the top cupboard, then poured in the pouch of plant food and warm tap water and extricated the stems from the wrapping. “These are gorgeous,” she said. “Thank you.”
Harold had bought her flowers, only when he bought them for her, he made sure everyone knew about it. The first time was an elaborate arrangement of crimson peonies and velvety red roses that showed up on her desk a week after they’d started dating. Then, a showstopping bouquet of calla lilies on her birthday, with a note reminding her about their surprise date that night.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like surprises. It was that when the date itself was revealed, it was clear that Harold didn’t really know her at all, or if he did, he was more interested in doing something up his alley than making sure she enjoyed herself on her birthday.
