Winter Interlude

by Sandy Loyd

  “Are you cold?” he asked when she opened her eyes.

  “I can’t seem to get warm,” she replied, nodding.

  “Get under the down comforter,” he said. “It’s good for keeping in body heat but it takes a while to warm up when you’re chilled to the bone.” Considering the temperature was already cooler than normal to begin with, he wondered if she’d ever get warm.

  “Maybe it’ll help,” he said as he stood, yanking the pillows and tossing them on the bed, “if we share body heat for a few minutes. Until you warm up.”

  She nestled under the comforter, but immediately snuggled closer when he lay down beside her. Grinning, he situated her against his chest. When he wrapped his arm around her and pulled the comforter up to her chin, a relaxed sigh floated past his ear. He lingered long after she fell asleep, just holding Kate and drinking his coffee, content to do nothing else.

  For the first time in as long as he could remember, his loneliness abated. The realization only made his life appear emptier because this feeling was no more real than what he had with Judith. Still, holding Kate close gave him a glimpse of what his life could be like. Hopefully that would be enough to keep him on track to begin a new search for someone who would chase away the loneliness for good.

  Chapter 9

  Kate moved to stretch and was hampered with not only the comforter, but with Paul’s arm, which was around her waist. Turning gently so she wouldn’t disturb him, she took in his slumbering form. He looked so innocent as he lay next to her, his upturned face relaxed in sleep, head supported on a mound of pillows. Considering the way he kissed, the man was anything but innocent. Heat climbed up her face at the memory. More of the same conflicted thoughts swirled around in her head, yet she watched him for a while longer, noting how attractive he was and marveling at how comfortable she felt in his arms.

  She was in deep trouble. Though this felt so right, she knew it was all so wrong. Those few wild moments last night had been too hard to resist. If it had been anyone else, she’d have thrown caution to the wind and jumped in headfirst. But, she couldn’t. Even if Judith weren’t in the picture, it wouldn’t matter. She didn’t trust him. Worse, she didn’t trust herself.

  When she tried to untangle herself, her movement was enough to wake him. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he shook off the sleepiness. The second their gazes connected, he grinned. Time seemed to stand still. She couldn’t look away.

  “You look well rested.”

  She nodded, returning his smile and wishing things were different.

  He broke the spell and glanced toward the fireplace. “Fire’s down to embers. I need to add more logs.”

  Unable to speak, she nodded.

  “Thanks for...everything,” she finally said, once she found her voice. She felt heat on her cheeks for what she’d almost blurted out. Thanking him for keeping her warm didn’t seem like the smartest thing to say right then. “I feel much better.”

  “My pleasure.” Still sporting that engaging smile, he extricated his body from hers and rose off the bed. While he stretched and padded over to the fireplace, she escaped to the bathroom. Upon her return, the first thing she noticed was the added warmth to the room from the now roaring fire.

  Still holding the poker, Paul faced her.

  Both stopped—and stood staring at each other for another awkward moment. Neither spoke.

  She cleared her throat, smoothing her jeans in a nervous gesture, then walked toward the window and peeked out. “Sun’s up.” The storm had passed, leaving behind a bright blue sky that contrasted sharply against a white background of deep snow. She offered a wan smile. “I guess skiing’s out.”

  “Yeah, no way we can get out to the main road. A BMW isn’t built for this much snow. Hopefully the electricity will come back on soon.” Paul glanced at his watch. “I can’t believe we slept over four hours.” He placed the poker aside. “Thank God for natural gas. At least we have plenty of hot water and we’re able to cook. We’ll probably have to spend a good part of the day in here to stay warm.”

  He started for the door, asking along the way, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “I’d love one.” Kate followed him out of the bedroom. She went over to her bags and pulled out her toothbrush, toothpaste, fresh clothes, and toiletries. “I’m taking a quick shower. I’ll be out in a bit.”

  At Paul’s grunt, she smiled.

  Things will work out. She’d survive. She and Paul might even be good friends after this.

  ~

  Paul watched Kate disappear and shook his head.

  I can handle this. If he could just keep his hands to himself, he’d get through the next twenty-four hours. Then he’d go through the process of getting both women out of his system. Smiling to himself, he began the task of heating the coffee. Since Kate knew her way around the kitchen, he’d leave the cooking to her.

  An hour later, he looked out the window and sighed, feeling slightly on edge. They’d finished a filling breakfast, thanks to Kate’s skill, and were cleaning up. After washing the last plate and sticking it in the dishwasher to dry, he reached for the coffeepot, now warming on the burner, and poured. He sipped the hot brew and paced, still unable to relax. “I hate being cooped up like this.”

  Kate glanced around the room, hugging her sides. “It does feel a little cramped in here.”

  “Why don’t we get into our ski clothes and snow boots and go out for a walk?” His nod indicated the window. “The fresh air will do us good.”

  Kate’s gaze followed his. “Sure. Should be fun and give us something to do.” She practically ran to her bag, searched through it and brought out snow gear, then started for the spare bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

  He grinned. “Okay. And I’ll do the same,” he said on the way to his room, thankful for a diversion. The space inside felt too confined, made more so with her unsettling presence.

  A few minutes later, he emerged from the hallway to find Kate pacing, bundled from head to toe in a snowsuit. The picture of her moving back and forth in obvious impatience brought a smile to his lips. She looked like an oversized child, except for those noticeable curves. No one could mistake her for a kid.

  When she noticed him, her eyebrows shot up. “It’s about time.”

  Paul laughed, grabbed her hand, and made a quick retreat out the front door.

  On the porch, he inhaled and blew out invigorating puffs of frigid air that stung his lungs.

  “I should shovel a path,” he said, still holding her gloved fingers, as they trudged through knee-deep snow.

  “I’ll help.” Her laughter bubbled up and the sound floated past his ears as she plopped to the ground. “Let me know when you have the shovels.”

  He watched her play in the snow, acting as if she hadn’t a care in the world. He stilled the urge to roll with her. Instead, he turned toward the garage and punched in the code to open the door. Having too much fun would only get him into trouble.

  He grabbed two shovels and walked back outside. The sun’s glare bounced off the white background, increasing the temperature to the mid-thirties. Without cloud cover, it would probably turn colder once the sun went down, Paul thought, as he handed her one of the shovels. Which didn’t bode well for the chilly night ahead. It was bad enough in daylight, but in candlelight?

  He started shoveling, using exertion to ease the aching need lurking just below the surface.

  Together, they spent the next forty-five minutes clearing the driveway, shoveling all the way to the street. Next, they tackled the sidewalk.

  Their task finished, they trudged up the street, picking their way through the deep, fluffy, white stuff. On their way back, Kate began frolicking in the snow again. When she dropped to the ground and made a snow angel, he laughed.

  “Try it. It’s fun.” She flapped her arms and legs, creating another one.

  He couldn’t resist her teasing dare. That sense of fun drew him in…had him falling in the snow like a big k
id. Following her directions, he waved his arms and spread his legs. “Nothing to it.”

  “That doesn’t look like any angel I’ve ever seen,” she said, mocking his attempt.

  “Oh yeah?” Paul gave it one more try, which caused her to erupt into giggles again. He joined her, and they both fell into the snow laughing. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d laughed so hard.

  He was still smiling when a snowball hit him square in the jaw. It didn’t hurt, but it surprised him. Not to be outdone, he quickly packed snow into the perfect sphere. He then aimed and fired it straight at her head. She ducked and the snowball fight ensued in earnest.

  Eventually, Paul tired of the game and quit throwing, but Kate wouldn’t let up. She kept bombarding him with snowballs, one right after the other.

  “Stop,” he said, walking toward her and dodging white missiles. “Game’s over.” He understood her nature to keep pushing, recognizing the trait as one of his.

  She only laughed and hit him in the cheek instead. “What’re you going to do about it, Morrison?”

  He frowned. He’d had enough. He did an about-face and started for the house.

  “Where are you going?” she yelled, still laughing.

  “I’m going in. I told you the game’s over.”

  “Why? Because I was winning?”

  Halfway up the driveway, he turned back. “No. I quit because it wasn’t fun anymore.”

  “You’re just mad because I clobbered you.” When he ignored her taunt and continued walking, she shouted, “I can’t believe you’re serious.” She hurried up to him. “It was just a stupid snowball fight.”

  He stopped and glanced at her. His sigh bore infinite patience. “We both know this isn’t about snowballs.” He watched several emotions cross her face.

  “All right,” she finally said, backing down. “I’m sorry.”

  Knowing he’d won the skirmish and that it had cost her, he held out his hand. “Still friends?”

  She shook her head. “No. I think we do better as enemies.” She then turned.

  He watched her storm back to the house and shouted when she was almost at the door, “So, does this means our truce is off?”

  “Drop dead, bucko.” Without looking back, she sent him an unladylike hand signal.

  He burst out laughing, then shook his head and followed.

  Damn, she’s feisty. No wonder his brother had a hard time with her. She was definitely a challenge as he’d discovered this weekend. Kate Winters rode roughshod over anyone who’d let her.

  He had no doubt that he’d handled her in exactly the right way. He was perfectly willing to be friends, but he had no intention of feeling her footprints on his back. Even if she hated him for not allowing her to tread all over him.

  Chapter 10

  Kate tensed when the mudroom door opened at the same time the sound of the garage door closing filled the air. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Paul amble across the room. She didn’t look up. Instead, she flipped the pages of one of James’ Architectural Digests, presenting an appearance of total absorption.

  Thankfully, Paul ignored her and kept walking toward the bedroom hallway.

  As she mindlessly thumbed through the magazine, the gas flames blazed away. Sunlight filtered through the wall of windows, providing extra heat. While still on the cool side, the room had warmed up considerably. But what about later, when the sun went down and the temperature dropped?

  Unsure of how to act around him after making a complete ass of herself, she exhaled a relieved sigh the second he disappeared from view, then set the magazine on her lap. Pictures of modern architecture interested her about as much as watching golf on TV. She glanced at the doorway, pushing out the thought that she much preferred the grace and beauty of older homes and buildings over the square and glass monstrosities that had replaced them.

  She had bigger problems to focus on. Namely, how in the hell she’d maintain composure once they had to move to the master bedroom for warmth. The sofa might be a better alternative. The minute the notion was out, she discarded it, knowing that Paul wouldn’t allow anyone but him to take the couch. Somehow the idea of him being gallant on her account didn’t sit well. Aside from his actions this morning, he’d been a perfect gentleman and that made her feel like pond scum.

  She sighed again. In all reality, that kiss would never have happened if she hadn’t provoked him into it. Her face burned with embarrassment just recalling the incident. Deep down, she wasn’t sure if she hadn’t wanted it. If she were completely honest, she’d have to admit that the snowball fight was more of the same goading. Look at me! Like me! Choose me over Judith!

  How twisted could a person be?

  Paul chose that moment to emerge from the hallway, pulling a hoodie over his head. The navy blue only highlighted his blond good looks. Her gaze traveled down those broad shoulders, which narrowed to a lean waist, finally landing on jean-clad legs. The guy was way too attractive for his own good. Especially since his male beauty was more than skin-deep and went all the way to his heart and soul. That was infinitely more potent because it only added to his appeal.

  She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, regretting her earlier behavior even more. His response had only garnered her respect. He was definitely worth having as a friend, which meant being completely civil. The only way to do that was to control that obnoxious, pushy facet of her personality. If he could handle the attraction without being a total jackass, then so could she.

  Nevertheless, the realization chafed. Big-time. She didn’t want to respect him or like him. Viewing him as an enemy had always been so much easier.

  “So, what are we having for dinner?” Paul stood, warming his hands in front of the gas fireplace, and glanced over his shoulder to eye her as if the past few hours hadn’t happened.

  Men! Her stomach churned as she struggled to keep her jaw from dropping. Though he stood several feet away, he was still much too close for her comfort. How could he be so calm after all that had taken place? “How about the hot dogs you bought?” She glanced at him, hiding her anxiety behind a tight smile. Did he really not feel the tension?

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “No.” She went back to the magazine she wasn’t reading and flipped the page. “Why do you think I’m joking?” She fought to mirror his nonchalance, but it took some effort when his smile could make old ladies swoon. It certainly had her heart pitter-pattering at an accelerated pace.

  He remained silent.

  Sensing that he was waiting for her to look up, she finally did.

  His gaze snared hers and held on tight, as that thousand-watt smile doubled in intensity. “After the feast you made us last night, I wouldn’t take you as someone who’d settle for hot dogs.”

  She cleared her throat, praying he couldn’t hear her heart race. Pitter-pattering seemed too mild a description for something that was now thumping wildly. She broke the connection, trying to remember the gist of the conversation. Oh, yeah. Something about hot dogs. Nodding, she said, “You have a point. Most chefs cringe at the thought of all those nitrates and saturated fat. But not me. I love them.” She turned another page, going for bored. “Besides, I don’t feel like cooking.”

  “Hmm. Something else we have in common.”

  She felt his gaze but ignored him this time, preferring not to dwell on their commonalities.

  “How ’bout I cook dinner? Hot dogs are my specialty.” When she only nodded, he sighed and started for the bedroom hallway. “I have work to do, so let me know when you’re hungry.”

  Surreptitiously, she watched him round the corner. The moment he was out of sight, she dropped the magazine on the coffee table and hugged herself. If only she could leave. Her gaze then moved to the windows. The scene couldn’t be more idyllic. Brilliant white against the sky and a forest of evergreens. She could barely make out the lake from her vantage point, but it appeared tranquil and turquoise blue.

  The thoughts got lost when Paul
reappeared carrying a briefcase. He strode toward her with purpose, placed the case on the coffee table, and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, not three feet away.

  Was he nuts? “Can’t you work in the other room?” Did he not realize her discomfort?

  “You don’t mind, do you?” He took out what looked to be a business prospectus from the briefcase and then propped his feet on the table. “It’s too lonely in there,” he said.

  Far be it from her to admit that she minded when his tone sounded so forlorn. She shook her head, deciding he must have forgiven her for the snowball pelting. Besides, he was damned good company. She firmed her resolve to ignore the attraction.

  Pretend he’s James.

  It worked. At least for a while. Until her mind sifted through the years. Her teeth ground together as she grasped more consistencies in her relationship that she’d brushed away as insignificant. Hindsight really was twenty-twenty. James wasn’t much different back then from how he was now. Just thinking how she’d settled for less for so long got her blood pressure rising. What was worse, she was able to see her own part in the mix. Her response to his ambivalent attitude only prolonged this moment. Oh God. Mrs. Pike was dead-on with her cow analogy. He had free milk, so why would he buy the cow? Actions spoke louder than words, only she hadn’t listened. She’d twisted the relationship to work, ignoring his needs as well as her own.

  “Are you okay?”

  Paul’s voice startled her.

  “I’m fine.” She sent him a guarded look. Did he suspect her apprehension toward him, or could he read her mind? “Why would you think I wasn’t okay?”

  His nod indicated the edge of the sofa, where her hand gripped the arm tighter than an alligator’s jaws held prey.

  As warmth spread from her neck to her face, Kate quickly released her fingers. Flexing them, she placed her hand in her lap. “I was thinking about James.” It was better than admitting some of those thoughts had been about him.

  “Ah yes—James. How could I forget about him?” He offered an apologetic half smile and refocused on his reading material. “I imagine I’m a lousy substitute for my brother.”