Until she’d moved in with Shawn, she’d lived all her life in an apartment in New York City with her parents. If she and her friends had wanted to make a snowman, they’d gone to the park. Now, thanks to a distant great-aunt she’d barely known leaving her this house upstate in Forestwood, New York, she could make a snowman in her own front yard. The prospect excited her, probably more than it should considering she’d just turned thirty-four. She’d have to wait to build it until after the snowfall stopped, but still wanted to go outside and check out the snow.
After bundling up—two pairs of socks inside her snow boots, scarf, and wearing a soft knit cap under her hood—she took a deep breath and stepped out into the swirling storm.
Wow. Stopping just outside the front door on her stoop, she stared. This was coming down fast and furious. She guesstimated already six to seven inches had fallen.
And so beautiful. Slowly she turned, squinting as she tried to see down the street to the other houses. Other houses! She’d lived her entire life surrounded by tall buildings, in the crowded city. She thought she could get used to this new life. Everything moved slower here. The pace suited her just fine.
One month and she’d unpacked nearly everything. Of course, she hadn’t had much to unpack. Luckily, all her great-aunt’s furniture had come with the house, since JJ had none of her own. When she’d moved in with Shawn, he’d convinced her to get rid of her own few eclectic pieces. After all, they’d clashed with his sleek, modern furniture. Bohemian, he’d called it, with the same disparaging intonation one would use with a curse word.
Shawn. She hated how her thoughts kept returning to him when they shouldn’t. That part of her life was over. He no longer had any hold on her. He would never find her here. Even her mother had been sworn to secrecy, though she hadn’t been told why. Pushing him and her former life out of her head, JJ returned her focus to the perfect snowstorm.
Unable to resist, she dropped to the ground and made a snow angel, even though fresh flakes would fill it in quickly. With her face lifted to the sky, she felt like a kid. The icy flakes stuck to her eyelashes and her lips, even her teeth, since she was grinning. The cold air hurt her skin, which meant she wouldn’t be able to stay outside much longer, but she planned to enjoy what time she had.
The sound of a car door slamming made her sit up and blink away the snowflakes stuck to her lashes. What the... Someone had pulled up to the curb in front of her house. Driving some sort of compact SUV that she’d never in a million years have believed could make it more than a mile in this snow without snow tires and chains.
A tall, bare-headed man came around from the driver’s side. As she stared, her first thought was of the mythological Norse god Thor. She forgot about the icy wind, the snowflakes swirling like dervishes. Because as he strode toward her, his long, wavy blond hair swirling around his shoulders, her entire body came alive. He moved with a confident, easy stride, as if the snow and ice didn’t exist for him.
Damn. Realizing she was still on the ground, she clambered to her feet, dusting as much snow off her as she could before she looked up at him. And she meant up. This guy had to be way over six feet tall. Shawn had been six-two, and she’d bet this man would tower over him. Norse god, she thought again. Odd that she hadn’t had a single dream of him. She’d bet she would from now on.
“Um, hi?” she squeaked.
“Ms. Jacobs?” he rumbled, his bright blue eyes sharp. Oh heck, his voice definitely suited him. Made her go weak in the knees. And that accent...
Belatedly she knew who this must be. “Eric Mikkelson?” She couldn’t keep the disbelief from showing.
“Yes.” He tilted his massive, unbelievably gorgeous head. “You weren’t expecting me? I believe I confirmed I’d be here this afternoon to pick up the keys.”
“I know, but...” She gestured helplessly at the storm raging around them. “You drove up here in this?”
“This?” Frowning, he didn’t appear to understand what she meant. Before she could elaborate, he turned back toward his car. “I need to get my son. Do you mind if we continue this discussion inside?”
His son. Struck dumb by both his recklessness and his masculine beauty, she nodded. Then, because she loved babies as much as she loved snow, she followed him over to the car and tried to peer around him as he unbuckled his son’s infant carrier.
She caught a glimpse of bright blue eyes peering out from a tiny, bundled up face. As she leaned in closer, her tenant, clearly not realizing she’d moved in so close, caught her with his elbow under the chin and sent her flying backward.
“Oof.” Down she went, right on her behind. Luckily, all her layers plus the several inches of fluffy snow provided lots of padding. Nothing got hurt except her pride.
Her tenant glanced back over his shoulder at her, clearly unaware what had happened. “Are you all right?” he asked, his cautious tone telling her he’d begun to consider the possibility that she might be nuts.
For a split second she debated telling him what had happened. Pushing to her feet, she once again dusted off snow, the cold dampness beginning to seep through her layers to her skin. And then she caught sight of Eric’s son, and completely forgot what she’d been about to say.
The instant the baby locked eyes with her, he grinned and wrinkled his cute little nose. All bundled up in his snowsuit, cap and mittens, he looked like a precious baby seal with bright blue eyes. As his daddy lifted him up, he cooed.
Like his father, his cuteness factor was off the charts.
“Come on,” she said, conscious of the freezing temperature and icy wind. “I don’t want him to get frostbite.”
Eric Mikkelson stared and shook his head. “He has Norwegian blood,” he said, as if that explained everything. “This snowstorm is nothing compared to the ones I grew up with in Norway. I dressed him warmly. He’ll be fine.”
Fine? She managed to refrain from shaking her head while she tromped her way through the deepening snow to her front door. When she turned back to look for him, for a second she couldn’t see him, the baby or his car due to the blowing, swirling snow.
Copyright © 2017 by Karen Whiddon
ISBN-13: 9781488031205
Royal Enchantment
Copyright © 2017 by Naomi Lester
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