Page 63 of Snow Balled

Drew nodded and grinned. “And I got what I went for.”

“You did?” I glanced over to the door, but all I could see was the large bag he’d carried stuff in.

“Yep.” Drew started to extract himself from the blankets piled on him, but I pushed him back.

“Just stay there and get warm.” Like the others, I was irritated with him for taking a risk, but I couldn’t help being touched that he’d done it for me.

As I walked over to the door, I wondered what he might’ve found. Surely most of my clothes had been ripped to shreds by the branches by now. Still, there might be something I could wear, even if it was damaged. Frankly, I was pretty desperate and about one step away from attempting to make an outfit out of the curtains.

The duffel bag was heavier than I’d expected, and I carried it back to the living room rather than crouching down among the puddles from the snow the two men had tracked in.

I dragged the beanbag chair in front of the fire, placing the duffel bag on top of it. I sat down on the hearth and undid the strings at the top of the bag.

At first, I couldn’t figure out what I was looking at. There was a rectangular shape in a familiar looking shade of rose gold. As I peeled down the sides of the duffel, I managed to free the small suitcase.

I stared at it in disbelief. “Where’d you find this?” I asked Drew.

“It had fallen in that little hallway off the kitchen. None of your other stuff was there, just that,” he said. “It was all I could reach except for a few things from your bathroom.”

Shaking my head, I stared at the case. “I’d completely forgotten about this.” Most of my clothes and possessions had been brought up in trunks. Those things had been unpacked and stored on shelves and in the dresser in the cabin—and I suspected I’d never see most of them again. But I hadn’t even opened this suitcase, because it wasn’t for my stay at the cabin—it was for after.

“My friend, Kylie, lives in Denver. I was going to spend the weekend with her and her men after my stay ended here,” I explained to the others.

“Her men?” Tristan asked, but I didn’t answer as my excitement grew.

“They were going to take me out for a night on the town at this little bar they love. I packed an entire outfit just for that night out. I knew I wouldn’t need it while I was at the cabin, so it wasn’t even in my bedroom. I never even opened it.”

“That was a pretty lucky break,” Tristan observed.

“It was.” I stood up, a huge smile on my face. “And I’m so glad I’m not going to have to wear ill-fitted sweats for our date tonight.”

“Care to give us a preview?” Carter asked.

I laughed as I picked up the heavy little suitcase. “God, no. I want it to be a surprise.”

“I have a feeling it’s going to be a great surprise,” Drew said, his dark eyes gleaming.

I walked over and ran my fingers through his hair. It was sticking up in all directions from the stocking cap he’d worn outside. “I’ll make sure of it.” I fisted his hair and pulled until his head tilted back and our eyes met. “But if you’d fallen and broken your neck, I would’ve killed you.”

“Fair enough,” he said.

Letting him go, I straightened up. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ve got some unpacking to do.”

21

TRISTAN

“How do I look?” Drew asked as he edged me aside and peered in the mirror of my bedroom. We’d been banished upstairs so that Sierra could make use of both her room and the bathroom to get ready. Only Carter was allowed downstairs, since he was cooking, but she’d made him promise not to look out in the living room. If she’d had notary equipment, she probably would’ve drawn up paperwork for him to sign.

“You look fine.”

“Really?” He messed with his hair, which seemed pointless because it always looked the same no matter what he did.

“To be honest, you’re not my type.” I looked at his expression in the mirror and determined that he wasn’t in a joking mood. And here I thought women were the ones who got nervous before a date. “Sorry.”

Drew studied his reflection. He had on a crisp white dress shirt and an actual tie. I’d only seen him wear it once since we’d gotten here, for a video call with our investors. “I look like a Mormon missionary,” he said bitterly.

I bit back a laugh. “No, you don’t. But let me fix your tie.”

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