Frostbite

by Deborah Bladon

“I will,” she chirps. “Good luck today. I’ve heard artists can be a moody bunch.”

  I half-laugh at the joke because she has no idea just how moody Calder Frost is.

  Chapter 9

  Calder

  I should be past the concept stage of this sculpture I’m hastily doing for Dexie Jones. Instead, I’m staring at the door of my studio, waiting for her sister to appear.

  I haven’t been able to get Raelyn out of my mind since we officially met last night. That’s a fucking lie. I couldn’t stop thinking about her after we collided on the sidewalk.

  There was something about her that made me want to stand in that snowstorm for hours just to stare at her.

  Blonde hair, brown eyes, and a face that is beautiful, not just because of her bone structure.

  As she gave me shit while snow fell around us, I saw both fire and kindness in her eyes. I saw grace and goodness.

  I know she was holding back her anger.

  She was right that night. I handled the situation poorly, but the message on my phone that lured my gaze down long enough for me to almost walk over her put me in a foul mood. It was from a delivery company apologizing for not getting one of my sculptures to its owner on time.

  A knock at my studio’s sliding metal doors sends a shot of adrenaline through me.

  I promised myself that I’d do everything in my power to keep my cock out of this, but it’s already stirring inside my jeans.

  I suck in a deep breath and head across my studio toward the door, knowing that I’m about to come face-to-face with the beauty I can’t stop thinking about.

  Sliding the door open with a tug, I straighten my stance. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Frost!” Mitzi Hemley greets me with a smile and a cup of coffee in each hand. “I brought you a little something to kick start your day.”

  Since I wasn’t expecting to see the woman again, I cross my arms over my chest. “What can I do for you, Mitzi?”

  “You can take these hot coffees off my hands.” She pushes both cups toward me. “Please.”

  I take them because I don’t want to have to tend to her burns in addition to whatever brought her down here.

  Stalking across the studio toward a table, I hear her boots tapping a beat behind as she follows me. “It’s crisp out there this morning, isn’t it?”

  I wouldn’t know. I live in the loft above my studio, so I haven’t stepped outside yet.

  Once I reach the table and place the coffees down, I turn to face her. “What brought you here today?”

  She glances around the massive studio. “Bauer.”

  Naturally. She’s as charmed with him as most women are.

  “He’s working from home today,” I tell her. “I’ll be sure to tell him you dropped by.”

  A frustrated noise escapes her. “I was hoping to buy one of his drawings. I’m celebrating, after all.”

  I should be asking what the special occasion is, but I don’t give a damn.

  “My painting sold for more than I thought it would at the auction last night.” Her entire face brightens with a smile. “Although I must say, I was somewhat disappointed that you didn’t bid on it. Bauer didn’t either.”

  Scrubbing the back of my neck, I decide I better ask because I’ve never met an artist without a fragile ego other than myself. “What painting was yours?”

  She throws her head back in laughter. “The one my husband bought, of course. He battled my sister until the end. I thought they’d cap the bidding at fifty dollars, but it went for twice that.”

  Mitzi is an artist? I didn’t see that coming.

  “Congratulations,” I offer, hoping this exchange is coming to a quick end.

  She picks up one of the coffee cups and offers it to me. “Why don’t you enjoy this? I brought one for you and the other for Bauer.”

  I take the cup. “Thank you.”

  “That boy reminds me so much of my grandson.” She tugs the lid off the other cup. “He’s a lawyer. Life keeps him busy in Utah. I haven’t seen the dear soul in years.”

  Her sudden attachment to Bauer makes sense.

  “Why don’t you paint your grandson something special as a Christmas gift?” I ask before taking a sip from the cup.

  It’s lukewarm, but otherwise, it’s not half-bad.

  She opens her purse and removes a packet of sugar before she pours it into the cup. “Do you think he’d like that?”

  “I think he’d love it,” I say, not having a fucking clue whether her grandson will appreciate the effort or not. “You should go straight to your studio and get started on it now.”

  She picks up her coffee and swallows a mouthful. “I might do that.”

  “You should.”

  She takes a step closer to me, closing the distance between us until she’s almost on top of me. “Do you want to know something?”

  I stare at her because her lips are lined so far away from her natural lip that I have to wonder if it’s bad eyesight or intentional. “What?”

  “You’re not nearly as bad as everyone says you are.” She taps the side of her cup to the center of my chest. “I thought you were a grump, but maybe I had you all wrong.”

  “Maybe you didn’t.”

  Just as I register the voice saying those words as Raelyn’s, Mitzi jumps back in surprise at the interruption and in the process, the coffee inside the cup in her hand spills forward, splashing all over me.

  Mitzi’s gaze volleys between Raelyn and me. “Oh, my word. Look at the mess I’ve made.”

  Raelyn marches across the studio in knee-high black boots that apparently my cock likes because I feel myself hardening even though I’m covered in coffee.

  “It was an accident,” Mitzi insists as she yanks a ball of what looks like used tissues from her purse. She starts dabbing them over my gray T-shirt.

  “Or karma,” Raelyn says under her breath as she reaches us. “You’re going to want to get that in the wash as soon as possible.”

  Stepping back, I reach for the bottom hem of the T-shirt and yank it over my head.

  Mitzi’s gaze falls to my chest, but Raelyn keeps her eyes trained on mine. “I’m reporting for duty, sir. What should I do first?”

  Chapter 10

  Raelyn

  It’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to stare at Calder’s chest. I glanced at it when he was taking his shirt off.

  He must work out, or maybe he’s so rock hard because of all the physical effort he has to put into creating his sculptures. Either way, I’m doing everything in my power not to gawk. Mitzi has much less self-control. She’s fanning her face with her hand.

  “I’m very sorry about the coffee,” she says. “I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble.”

  Something tells me she doesn’t regret it.

  “I’m going upstairs to shower and change.” Calder glances at the pool of coffee by his feet. “You’ll find a mop and a bucket in the storage closest, Raelyn. Consider this your first task of the day.”

  Maybe this is my karma for finding so much satisfaction in the fact that he had coffee spilled on him less than forty-eight hours after his coffee spilled all over me.

  Mitzi turns to watch him leave. I do too, because Calder’s ass in a pair of faded jeans is a sight to behold.

  “Are you working for Calder?” she questions when Calder disappears as he climbs a flight of stairs.

  “Something like that.”

  “You’re one of the luckiest ladies in Manhattan.”

  I smile. “That’s up for debate.”

  She lets out a chuckle. “If I were your age, I’d do everything in my power to keep that man shirtless as much as possible.”

  I don’t respond because I have no idea if Calder can hear us. I’m assuming that somewhere beyond that staircase, he has a change of clothing and a shower. It has to be a bathroom, although I see one out of the corner of my eye next to what looks like a storage closet.

  Just as I’m about
to set off in that direction to retrieve the mop and bucket, Mitzi grabs hold of my forearm. “You did see what I did, right? His muscles are as dreamy as his eyes.”

  “I need to get this cleaned up.” I reach for her hand to squeeze it. “It was good to see you again, Mrs. Hemley.”

  “You too, Raelyn.” She reaches to grab her purse. “Tell Mr. Frost that I said goodbye.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that.” I nod.

  “I met my husband when we worked together.” Her eyes brighten. “Keep that in mind. You never know when love will find you.”

  It sure as hell won’t find me here. Calder may be gorgeous, but beneath that beautiful exterior, a jerk is lurking, and I’d never fall for a guy like that.

  ***

  More than forty-five minutes after I finished mopping the floor, Calder comes down the stairs.

  He’s barefoot, wearing dark jeans and a navy blue T-shirt. It’s pulled taut across his chest, and if I hadn’t noticed his biceps and forearms before, I do now.

  Being this good-looking and talented has to be a curse.

  Maybe that’s why his attitude could use a makeover.

  “You cleaned the floor,” he remarks as he nears me.

  I don’t know why he has to announce it since he clearly ordered me to take care of it before he disappeared.

  “I had a few calls to make after my shower.” He strolls around the table until he’s facing me. “Then I made an omelet and had a cup of coffee.”

  Obviously, there is more at the top of the stairs than a bathroom.

  “I live in a loft above the studio.”

  I nod. I won’t tell him that’s my end goal. Eventually, ten or twenty years from now, I want to settle in Manhattan with a studio just like this and a loft with wood beams and a fireplace.

  “That’s nice,” I manage to say. “What’s next on my to-do list?”

  I might as well put on a happy face and accept that this is where I need to be until the sculpture my sister ordered is complete.

  “Why don’t you take a seat on one of the stools?”

  I glance at the two stools next to the table. I did take a seat on one while I scrolled through emails on my phone when he was showering and enjoying a home-cooked meal.

  I settle on the stool closest to where I’m standing.

  Calder leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I do my best work at night.”

  I can’t tell if that’s a pick-up line or if he’s serious.

  “That’s nice,” I say again.

  “Nice?” His brows perk. “Is that your go-to line when you’re holding back what you really want to say?”

  Um, yeah, Einstein.

  I hold that gem in and smile. “I was commenting that it’s nice that you do your best work at night.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Does it not make you wonder why I asked you to come and help me this morning?”

  “No,” I lie. “My sister said you needed my help, so I came to help.”

  Frustration tugs at his lips. He frowns. “I thought we could use this time to get to know each other better.”

  This isn’t a date. I’m doing my sister a favor. “I think it’s best if we focus on the task at hand. Christmas will be here before we know it.”

  “I already know a few things about you, Raelyn.”

  What? That I had crooked bangs for years that are forever documented in my high school graduation photos online. Or maybe he’s referring to my brief time spent as a paid spokesperson for a watch company. My name will always be associated with the low budget commercials they produced. Those are just two of the treasures that pop up on the first page in any online search of my name.

  “You have patience,” he says, leaning closer to me.

  “Because I haven’t brought up the night you ran into me yet?” I question, holding back a smile.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t come looking for me even though I was gone for an hour.”

  “It was forty-five minutes,” I correct him.

  “Patience is something I value.”

  I value my personal space, and he’s slowly invading it by sliding his muscular forearms across the table.

  I stop staring at his arms and pin my eyes to his face.

  It does little good because I’d be lying if I said I’ve met a man more handsome than him.

  “You love your sister.”

  I nod. “Very much.”

  “You put aside your needs for her.” He exhales heavily. “Why is that?”

  I’m not going to deep dive into my relationship with Dexie with this virtual stranger, so I go for a shallow answer. “You said it. I love her.”

  “There’s love, and there’s sacrifice,” he points out. “They are two very different things.”

  “Or one and the same,” I counter. “Sometimes, a person loves selflessly. In that case, sacrifice feels like a gift, not a burden.”

  He studies my face. “I’ve never felt that.”

  I’m not surprised.

  Sliding to my feet, I shrug my shoulder. “Maybe one day you will.”

  I wait for his response, but one doesn’t come. Instead, he turns his back and approaches one of the tall windows in the studio. “We’re done for the day. I expect you back here tomorrow night at eight, Raelyn. We’ll work through the night.”

  I can survive on very little sleep, so I see this as a plus. “I’ll see you then, Calder.”

  With his head tilted back in alignment with the rays of sun shining in, he raises his hand to wave in silence.

  Chapter 11

  Calder

  “Who the fuck did that?” Bauer’s voice booms through the studio. “It’s the middle of the afternoon. Are you working?”

  I’m tempted to tell him to get lost, but I need him. I’ve spent the past two hours welding the base of the sculpture for Dexie Jones. Bauer is about to help me file down the rough edges.

  My sculptures are imperfect in the sense that my clients know that they’re going to receive a work of art that will never be replicated.

  “I’m working. You’re about to be working.”

  “Since when do you work when there’s daylight?” He shrugs out of his wool coat and drops the gray beanie on his head on the table. “For the first six months I worked with you, I thought you were a fucking vampire.”

  I let out a laugh. “Go to hell.”

  “If I do that, who is going to help with this?” He scans the room. “Where’s Raelyn? I thought she was supposed to be providing the extra hands on this.”

  “I don’t pay you to ask questions.” I stretch both arms over my head.

  “I ask those questions out of the goodness of my heart.” He pats his right palm against the center of his chest.

  My eye catches on the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. “You added something new.”

  He skims his hand over the inked skin. “When inspiration hits, I take it to the tattoo shop.”

  “You could bring some of it here.” I point at the base of the sculpture. “I need to get this done.”

  “Why the hell did you take it on?” He drops both hands to his hips. “We both know you don’t have time for this right now.”

  “Maybe I’m a nice guy.”

  He drops his hands to his stomach, bends over, and laughs. “Christ, you’re a riot today. Did you get drunk at the auction last night?”

  I wait until he’s upright before I answer. “Dexie Jones is a potential long-term client. I can see her wanting another sculpture in the future. Maybe more. Why would I not make room in the schedule for her?”

  “Is that how we’re playing this?” Bauer perks a brow.

  “That’s how it is.”

  “You’re telling me this has nothing to do with her sister?” He leans a hand on the table. “You’re not doing this to get time with Raelyn? And before you answer, Calder, I saw the way you looked at her last night.”

  “She’s beautiful,” I spit out before my common
sense can stop me.

  Bauer’s hands shoot in the air as if he’s surrendering. “You’re not going to get an argument from me on that. I’ve never seen you push work aside for a woman. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “I need your help.” I fall back on the issue at hand. “Now that I know Dexie’s vision, this sculpture needs to get done as quick as humanly possible.”

  Bauer flexes both arms to show off his biceps. “I’m superhuman, so that’s not a problem.”

  “In your mind,” I quip.

  “And in the minds of all the women who have tasted a piece of this.” He lowers his hands to wave in front of him.

  “When you’re done admiring yourself, grab a file.” I gesture at the workstation a few feet from where we’re standing. “I’ll take the left side. You’ve got the right.”

  “On it,” he says. “One last thing about Raelyn, Calder.”

  I curse under my breath. “What?”

  “She was checking you out last night too.” He smiles. “Something tells me she’s not torn up over the fact that she has to spend hours alone with you.”

  If only.

  I can’t read Raelyn Jones. Hell, I can’t even read anything online about her because nothing exists.

  I found that out this morning as she was waiting for me here in the studio while I was upstairs.

  I was so hard that I had to pump one out in the shower just to focus after seeing her dressed the way she was. The plaid shirt she had on was unbuttoned enough to give me a glimpse of the top of her breasts. The jeans accentuated the curves of a lush ass, and those boots almost drove me mad. The image of me fucking her while she was only wearing them kept circling through my mind on a relentless reel I couldn’t shake until I came.

  My online search came up empty.

  Hopefully, the fishing expedition I go on when she shows up here tomorrow night will give me more insight into the beautiful blonde.

  Chapter 12

  Raelyn