Page 61 of Snow Balled

“Anyway, we’ll just try to make it as much of an occasion here as we can. Carter’s going to cook dinner, and—”

“Excuse me,” I interrupted. “Carter’s cooking?” As far as I knew, he hadn’t done much more than assemble a sandwich since I got here.

“It’s his date night meal—the only decent meal he can make. Back home at the office, it was well known that he trotted it out every time he wanted to get laid.” Drew ended that sentence by turning beet red. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” I assured him, though he looked so cute when he was embarrassed. Cute only applied to his face, though. I was well aware that there was a gorgeous, ripped, extremely well-proportioned man sitting on my bed. “So, we’ll have a nice dinner and what, watch a movie together?”

“We’re still figuring out the agenda,” he said. “We want to make it special, you know, so we’ll be on our best behavior and dress up. Our goal is to trick you into thinking we’re gentlemen.”

He winked when he said that last part, but my mind was stuck on something else he’d said. “Dress up?”

Drew nodded, not seeing the issue. “I mean, we don’t have formalwear, but we’re all going to wear the nicest things we have. We each at least have a dress shirt for important video calls or the like.”

My heart sank. “For me, dressing up is a choice between oversized sweatpants or ripped leggings.”

He took my hand. “You look gorgeous no matter what you wear, Sierra.”

I gave him a weak smile that I didn’t really feel. The truth was, I was excited about the prospect of a date with these guys, but I wanted to do my part to make it special, too. No woman wanted to go on a date while looking like a slob—especially not on a date with such attractive men.

“Honestly, that’s the last thing you should be worried about.” Drew squeezed my hand, trying to convince me.

For his sake, I nodded. “What should I be worried about then?”

Drew grinned. “Carter’s cooking, of course.”

He definitely had a point about that.

20

SIERRA

The next morning, I was too hyped up to settle down to write. I hadn’t been asked out on a date in a long time—at least not by someone I actually wanted to go on a date with. Some guys on a movie set were more than willing to invite me back to their trailer or a hotel room, but few wanted to take me on a real date.

Little got done on my screenplay as I alternated between excitement about the date and anxiety about what I could possibly wear. It was sweet of Drew to say I looked good in anything, but that’s not how the world worked. I wanted to look my best for them. My best definitely didn’t include sweatpants, thick wool socks, a t-shirt, and god, no makeup whatsoever.

At least I could shower, wash my hair, and shave with a disposable razor I’d swiped from one of the guys. That was on the agenda for later in the afternoon while they were working out.

But right now, I was supposed to be writing.

Except that sure as hell didn’t seem to be happening.

I couldn’t stop thinking about my three dates for the evening. Tristan was in the kitchen getting a snack. Carter sat on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table while he swiped through his phone. It looked like he was just surfing the web, but I knew him better now. Judging by the look of concentration on his face, he was researching something work-related.

And Drew… I actually wasn’t sure where he was, so I asked Tristan when he came back with an apple and a bowl of chips.

“I think he took Zeus for a walk,” Tristan said.

“No, he didn’t.” Carter turned to face me. “You left your door open, so he’s taking a nap on your bed.”

I assumed he meant the dog, not the man, but I walked over to double check. Zeus had his shaggy head on my pillow, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him to get down. “I haven’t seen Drew in a while. Has anyone?”

Tristan set his food on the worktable. “I’ll check outside and see if he’s around.”

While he was gone, he stole a few of his chips. I regretted it instantly, both because I needed to watch what I ate since the press tour wasn’t that far off—plus my fingers got all greasy and I had to go wash them off.

As I emerged from the bathroom, Tristan returned. He went straight to Carter. “His tracks lead down the mountain.”

Carter swung his legs off the coffee table. “Shit. Why would he go that way?”

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