A Snowbound Scandal

by Jessica Lemmon

  * * *

  Phone to his ear, Chase waited impatiently through two, then three rings. Halfway through the third, Emmett picked up.

  “What the hell is going on?” Chase barked into the phone.

  Emmett’s voice went as rigid as rebar. “What happened?”

  “Two spies or journalists talked their way past Mimi and into my front yard. They snapped several pictures of us.”

  “Wearing what?” Emmett asked. Smartly.

  “Clothes. We weren’t doing anything.” At the time.

  “What’s Mimi doing there?” Emmett’s question was more to gather intel than pass judgement.

  “She was dropping off pie when the weather snowed her in.” And that was all the detail his friend was getting. “Care to explain why I’m fighting off paparazzi at my vacation home?”

  “A blog posted early this morning. I literally read it five minutes ago. Haven’t had a chance to think through the implications let alone call to alert you.”

  “In the same vein as the letter that arrived with the photo?”

  “I don’t know. It’s gone.”

  “What do you mean it’s gone?”

  “The letter and the photo. I assume you didn’t throw it out?”

  Emmett knew him—knew he wouldn’t throw away a photo of Mimi even if it was a photo where she was protesting the very industry that he upheld. “I locked it in the lap drawer of my desk.”

  A sniff that might mean could’ve guessed came through the phone.

  “What gives with the Bigfork welcome? Opportunists?” Chase asked.

  “Too soon. The only way someone could’ve tracked you down was if they already knew you were there. Who knows Mimi is there?”

  “Her sister.” But he doubted Kris was their culprit. She and Mimi were close. “I have no idea what Kristine would gain by ratting out Mimi.”

  “Lucky find, probably,” Em concluded. “They were after a reaction from you and got a twofer when she opened the door.”

  “Send me the link to the blog, will you?”

  “Will do. I’ll question the staff. If the leak’s not on Mimi’s end, it has to be on ours. Enjoy the rest of your vacation, boss.” Then he was gone.

  Chase expected to find Mimi wringing her hands after hearing his side of the conversation. Instead, she stood with her arms folded awaiting explanation.

  “I promised I would shield you from any backlash, and that’s what I intend to do,” he told her. “In the meantime, this changes things. I suggest you stay put rather than—”

  “This doesn’t change anything. I’m not staying here. I can’t stay here. I don’t live here. I have to work.”

  “Mimi—”

  “I can handle myself, Chase.” She unfolded her arms and let them dangle at her sides, looking suddenly tired. “I’ve been handling myself without your help for a long time. You don’t have to be a white knight.”

  “I’m not trying to be a white knight,” he snapped. She didn’t know the world of politics. They wouldn’t give up until they found the dirt they were looking for. “They’re going to harass you, and then harass your family.”

  “You said you would handle it. Handle it. I am not hiding and waiting for them to go away before I resume my life. What’s the point in my hiding here?”

  Because I want you here.

  “I can protect you here,” he said instead. “Provided you don’t buzz in anyone else through that gate.”

  “I’m sorry I fell for the oldest trick in the book.” Her eyes flicked to one side before meeting his. “I should’ve asked you first.”

  He wrapped his hands around her small shoulders, consoling her. “Right, the old pretend-to-be-snow-removal-guys-to-capture-photos-of-the-mayor-with-his-old-flame trick.”

  That brought a soft smile to her face.

  “They play dirty.”

  “I’ve never minded getting dirty.” She tipped her chin and pegged him with admirable ferocity. Once upon a time, she’d been his and he’d let her go, believing she couldn’t handle his life.

  Had he been right and she’d grown stronger because of it? Or had he been wrong and this strength had been there all along?

  He knew the answer. It wasn’t a pretty one.

  “Sit tight for a few hours. I’ll find out what’s going on.” His phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen to find the link to the blog post. “Do me that favor?”

  She nodded her agreement and walked to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

  Chase began reading.

  * * *

  Emmett’s gruff voice bounced off the walls of Chase’s Dallas home and Stef paused in the doorway, wiggling her key from the lock. She’d come over to borrow a staple gun since Zach was out of town and she didn’t have a key to his house. Chase had given her a key a long time ago. One she’d never bothered returning.

  But she hadn’t expected to find Emmett here. He was crowding her space an awful lot lately. She would have suspected he’d followed her here if she hadn’t arrived second.

  His phone conversation was brief, and she guessed he was talking to Chase about something serious given his clipped tone and the mention of Mimi. There was a name she hadn’t heard in a while. She peeked into the dining room to find Emmett, his broad back covered in a white button-down shirt, his very short hair close cut in the shape of his perfect head.

  He was a big, muscly, glaring guy. Stefanie preferred guys fun, easygoing and quick to smile. Lean muscle, not bulk. Kind eyes rather than Emmett’s intense stony stare. She supposed those attributes made him perfect for security. And besides, it didn’t matter that he wasn’t her type. They hated each other. It was a silently agreed upon fact. It was sort of magical, actually, how they were each peeved merely by the other’s existence.

  “That sounded serious,” she said, announcing herself.

  He turned and glared and said nothing.

  Typical.

  “Anything I can help with?” She grinned, knowing his answer.

  “Did you write an article about your brother having an affair with a woman who vehemently protests the oil industry?”

  “No.”

  “Then you can’t help.” He slid the phone into his pocket and grabbed his coat from the back of a chair.

  “What did the article say?”

  He didn’t so much as slow down as he blew past her. The disturbingly manly scent of his leather coat tickled her nostrils.

  “Emmett? Is everything okay?” she called after him.

  At the door, he paused, letting the cool November air blow in.

  “It’s clearly public knowledge. I can tell by your gruffer-than-usual attitude,” she added.

  He let out a long-suffering sigh—a reaction she’d come to expect. She assumed it was also a sigh of surrender, but no confession followed.

  “Lock up,” were the only words he spoke before stepping outside.

  “Emmett!” But he was done gracing her with his presence. Gruff, grouchy, impossible. What did her brother see in that guy?

  She huffed before shutting the door behind him. Let Em and her brother deal with their mayoral drama. Why should she care?

  She went back to searching for the staple gun, irritated that on a need-to-know basis she was the last to know.

  Well. She had important things to do, too. Like decorate for her favorite holiday. Her brothers used to help her string the lights in her bedroom when they lived at home, but now they were too busy to help. Her apartment remained sadly unadorned. With Chase in Montana, Zach in Chicago and her father in the middle of the ocean, she’d been left no choice but to fend for herself.

  “You could’ve asked Emmett,” she said with a sarcastic chuckle as she checked another drawer in the tool chest. And wouldn’t he love that? Coming to the aid of the lesser Ferguson... He was as
full of Christmas cheer as the Mojave Desert was water.

  She could hang her own damn Christmas lights.

  She shut the last of the drawers, propping her fists on her hips in frustration before tipping her head and spotting the staple gun hanging on a hook on the black pegboard between two cabinets. “Gotcha.”

  The small victory’s glory faded as she walked for the front door. Neither Chase nor Emmett trusted her and she didn’t like that. What if she could help?

  Behind the wheel of her white sports car, she punched a button to close the gate behind her and pointed in the direction of Chase’s office. She’d served a summer internship there a few years ago, and guess who had entrusted her with the key?

  Another key she’d never given up.

  Whether it was curiosity or hurt feelings driving her actions, she didn’t know. It didn’t matter. She was a doer. She wasn’t going to stay in the dark no matter what Emmett said. Chase was her brother, after all.

  Eighteen

  “I handled it for real this time.” Miriam waggled her cell phone before relinquishing it to the kitchen island, feeling a touch of residual guilt.

  She kept thinking and rethinking about the reporters at the gate earlier this morning. She should have known. Of course, there was no way she could have known. Chase held her blameless, but it didn’t keep her from reliving the moment she’d pressed that button and wishing she hadn’t.

  Chase, finished grilling ham-and-cheese sandwiches, slid them onto two waiting plates. The sight of melted cheese made her mouth water. He stirred the pot of tomato soup on the stove.

  “These must be your specialty,” she said of the perfectly golden wedges.

  “They are.” He sent her a wink over his shoulder and went back to stirring the soup.

  “I know Rodney personally. He will plow your driveway without snapping a single photo.”

  “Do you like crackers in your tomato soup?”

  “I’ll dip my sandwich in it instead.”

  “Exactly the way I like it. Another topic of agreement.”

  Yes. They’d found several.

  “He’ll be here within the hour,” she said rather than think of one particular act they had in common and were really freaking good at doing. “If you want me to handle that transaction, I can wait to take my shower until later.”

  “I have it.” He ladled the soup into bowls, and lifted his eyes to hers. “Stop beating yourself up.”

  “I’m not beating myself up,” she argued, though she kind of was.

  “You’re not worrying about me? Concerned that my campaign has been undone by a headstrong woman who protests the oil industry?”

  Okay, a little. She couldn’t help it. “Protested, past tense. I don’t protest any longer.”

  “We suspected backlash could come as a result of the photograph. Emmett had a plan in place if it went live. He just hadn’t expected scouts to find us here. And he hadn’t counted on you being here, either.”

  “You wouldn’t have let them through the gate, would you?”

  “I’ve been doing this a long time, Mimi.”

  Which meant his answer was no, he wouldn’t have.

  “Do you trust Emmett?”

  “With every detail of my professional—and personal—life.”

  That made her feel marginally better. Chase had someone else looking out for him—someone he could trust implicitly. She knew his family was loyal to him and he to them, but she also knew how nice it was to have that one person you could talk to in shorthand. Kris was that person for her.

  “How do you stand it?” She dragged her spoon through her bowl of bright red soup. “Having people excited to expose your secrets like that?”

  “I ignore it. It’s a small price to pay to do the work I do. Besides, I don’t have any skeletons in my closet.” He gave her another teasing wink. “Save you.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “It’s not worth giving my time or attention. Not worth yours, either. There are a lot of people who don’t have anything better to do than yell about what’s going on in the world. The problem is, they yell and don’t actually do anything. So while they’re yelling, I aim to be the one doing. The one doing makes the most progress.”

  Spoon in hand, she paused to let that soak in. He sat next to her, eating his lunch, probably not thinking about the words that had exited his mouth. About how profound and meaningful they were. When she first met him, she’d been as mesmerized by the way he talked as she was by the way he looked. She’d been fascinated by his passionate and clear statements. Moved by his confidence. He was someone people loved to follow. A true leader.

  His city needed him. Now that she’d shut down her selfish need for payback—or whatever the hell she’d been doing—she saw how good he was. Her instincts were spot-on. He was rich and powerful, but his will wouldn’t be bent by the promise of becoming richer or more powerful.

  “You’re good for Dallas,” she concluded.

  He turned his head and watched her for a beat. “Thank you. I don’t often care what other people think. But your opinion has always mattered. Always.” He grabbed her hand and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “I know you mean it. Not many people say what they mean.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? Her job required a modicum of political know-how in the environmental circle and hardly anyone said what they meant. She thought of her proclivity to speak her mind rather than be careful. And thought with a smile about how she’d make a horrible mayor’s wife.

  Wife?

  She dropped her spoon with a clang. Where the hell had that thought come from?

  “You okay?” The mayor of Dallas crunched into his sandwich, concern darkening his eyes.

  “Yeah. Yes. Fine.” Oh sure, she sounded totally fine. The mayor’s wife. She hadn’t had a thought like that since...

  Since he’d worn nothing but her cheap bedsheets in her ratty apartment. Since he’d been standing in her kitchen making a lunch not dissimilar to this one. It might have been ham and cheese with potato chips, and they’d dined on her tiny twin bed and ate off paper plates, but this felt the same.

  Or do you feel the same?

  The sandwiches were gourmet and the plates were breakable this time around but there was a lot about Chase that hadn’t changed. A lot about her that hadn’t changed. Like the fact that she still wanted a family and a husband. She wanted an adventure, and a life beyond success at work. She’d imagined a man would fill that role eventually, but she hadn’t been looking. And for some reason, sitting here with Chase now made her wonder if she hadn’t been looking because she knew what she wanted couldn’t be found here.

  Because he’d always been in Dallas.

  The days they’d spent together had snapped seamlessly against the days back when she’d first fallen in love with him. As fast as those days seemed to pass by that summer, being here with him was like being frozen in time. Like they’d been trapped inside a snow globe and given a second chance.

  Her stomach flipped, her mind along with it. She couldn’t act on those feelings—not a single one of them. She’d made that decision the moment she let him slip her out of her clothes. The moment she’d allowed him to make love to her, she’d promised herself she couldn’t and wouldn’t allow him access to her heart.

  Not again.

  “Excuse me.” She practically ran from the kitchen to her bedroom, shoving ideas about time-freezing snow globes out of her head. This affair was completely separate from their past—not an extension of it. No matter how much it seemed that the present had fractured and allowed the past to seep in, it hadn’t. Remembering moments with him was normal, and definitely not a sign that they could’ve been more or still could be more.

  She lifted her half-full suitcase onto the bed and began packing the rest of her clothes and shoes into it. Her mind volleyed argumen
ts that she was overreacting, but her heart was too tender to spend another moment in this house—or with this man. She rerouted her thoughts on work. Her to-do list waiting for her tomorrow morning. She needed to return to normalcy. To pop this bubble that bent reality and made it seem as though Chase and she belonged together. In reality, and outside of this snowstorm, he lived in Dallas and she lived here. He worked in politics, and she fought for funds from state heads. Once she returned to her own reasonably sized apartment, had a semblance of normal after three fantastic, but abnormal, days, everything would go back to the way it should be.

  “Was it something I said?” Chase hovered in the doorway.

  “Rodney will be here to clear the driveway soon.” She unfolded a shirt and rolled it instead, shoving it into the corner of her suitcase.

  “Yes, but there’s no rush.”

  “I know.” But even that sounded defensive.

  He stepped deeper into the room, knocking her equilibrium for a loop. “Was the soup bad?”

  She shot him a quick warning glare. She didn’t want to joke around right now. She didn’t want to like him right now. But she did. She did like him, dammit. She liked the way he took care of her, the way he kissed her and the way he’d followed her in here to make sure she was okay.

  Which was exactly why she needed to leave.

  “I’ll finish lunch. I just... I want to get this done. Maybe grab a shower before I go.”

  He came closer, his breath in her ear when he gripped her hips from behind. The move reminded her of the other night, when he’d followed that move with a kiss, his fists squeezing her flesh possessively.

  “I can join you if you like,” he said, his voice gruff.

  “No.” She couldn’t allow more blurred lines. “It’s better if I go. Let’s call that last bout on the library chair the end.” She turned to face his stormy expression.

  “The end?” he boomed.

  “It’s been fun, but we agreed that time would run out. The snow has stopped. It’s time to return to reality.”

  “Which is what, in your opinion?” He sounded as angry as he looked.