While Snowbound (Sensual Romance Series)

by McIntyre, Anna J.

  “When people ask? No one asks me that.” He wondered if she was serious.

  Ella looked at him for a moment before she understood his confusion over her simple question. “You mean because everyone knows you? Oh, come on, you can’t tell me everyone you meet already knows who you are.” By his expression, she could tell that was exactly what he meant.

  “You knew who I was,” Brady reminded her.

  “But that’s only because Amanda told me. If she hadn’t, what would you be telling me now, about what you do for a living?”

  “You would’ve still picked me up, not knowing who I am?”

  “Well, certainly. I couldn’t very well let you freeze to death. So, what would you have said?” Ella was getting curious.

  “I would have told you my name,” Brady explained.

  “And?” Ella prodded, waiting for his complete answer.

  “And what? Once I told you my name, you’d know what I did.”

  Ella began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” He asked with a scowl.

  “I told you, Amanda explained who you were. If she hadn’t, your name—as well as your face—would mean nothing to me.”

  “What about my music? You told me you knew my music,” he said, sounding somewhat insulted.

  “So, when you meet someone who doesn’t know you, you break into song when they ask what you do for a living?” Ella began to giggle uncontrollably at the notion.

  Brady sat quietly at the breakfast bar and watched with annoyance as the attractive young woman laughed heartily at his expense. “Of course not,” he snapped.

  “Oh, don’t get all sensitive on me,” Ella said once she had her giggles under control. “But you have to admit, the notion of you breaking into song when someone asks what you do for a living is pretty funny. Then let me ask you something else. What kind of work do you do on an iPad?”

  “I’m working on some new songs. That’s why I came up here, to get away by myself. I just wanted to work without any distractions.”

  “I can definitely relate. That’s why I’m here. At home, there is always someone calling me on the phone, and I’m continually wandering off on the Internet, or I find myself chatting on Facebook. Before I know it, the day is gone and I’ve only written a couple hundred words. I don’t see any reason we can’t both accomplish what we came here for, in spite of the storm. I’ve plenty of food, and when the roads are clear, I can take you to your cabin. The only thing—we’ll need to work in separate rooms.”

  “Separate rooms?” Brady asked. Although he couldn’t imagine working on his music while she was in the same room moving around, it surprised him that she felt the same way as he did. He couldn’t recall the last time a woman he met didn’t use whatever means possible to keep close by his side when given the opportunity.

  “I can’t write when anyone else is in the room. I can’t even have music playing. Music…oh, I imagine writing music involves making noise?”

  “My iPad has a piano keyboard I use.” He was amused that she referred to his music as noise. She seemed sincerely concerned with the possibility he might be too close in proximity to her while they worked.

  “I sometimes use the spare room upstairs as an office. I guess I could do that.” She suggested.

  “I also, have headphones,” Brady told her.

  “Well, I’m sure we’ll work something out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get supplies together, in case the electricity goes out.”

  “What can I help you with?” Brady asked as he got up from the bar stool and glanced out the living room window. The snow was still falling, and from his perspective it looked to be fairly deep.

  “This cabin has three bedrooms,” Ella began. “Two upstairs, and one downstairs. I’ll be using the one I normally use, upstairs, and I thought you could use the one downstairs. There are clean sheets in the laundry room. Why don’t you go ahead and put sheets on your bed, while I gather up supplies. When we’re done, maybe I can get you to go up in the attic with me, before the sun sets, to get the snowshoes. It’s kinda creepy up there, and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

  “Certainly.”

  Ella flashed him a smile and started up the staircase, which was just off the living room and adjacent to the hallway. Just as she reached the second step she stopped and turned to face her houseguest.

  “Brady,” she began.

  He realized it was the first time she had called him by his name.

  “I’m glad you’re a famous rock star.” Ella sounded relieved.

  “Why is that?”

  “Well….” She paused a moment before continuing, trying to find the right words. “Since you’re a rock star, I know I’d be the last person who’d interest you sexually, therefore I don’t have to worry about sleeping with a baseball bat.” Ella smiled brightly, as if she was quite pleased with how she had worked things out in her head.

  Brady didn’t know how to respond to such a statement, so he said nothing. Apparently, she’d forgotten about his crude invitation to join him in the shower. She flashed him another quick smile, then made her way up the stairs, leaving him alone on the first floor, watching her ascent.

  On the second floor, Ella found what she was looking for—a box she’d placed in the linen closet during her last visit to the cabin. She removed it from the shelf and set it on the floor before opening its lid. In the cardboard container were six new flashlights that she’d picked up at Costco several months earlier. She tested each one to see if the batteries she’d installed were still in working order.

  In the past, she’d kept just one flashlight at the cabin. After Amanda informed her it was missing, she went to Costco to pick up a new one, and ended up buying six instead of one. After checking the batteries, she took three of the flashlights with her and walked down the hallway.

  The first stop was the bedroom she sometimes used as an office when at the cabin. On one wall was a set of bunk beds, and next to it was a nightstand. Across from the bunk-beds, under the window, was a large oak desk. She set one of the flashlights on the desk. The next stop was the upstairs guest bathroom. She put a flashlight in a bathroom drawer, next to the sink. She left the third flashlight in the master bedroom.

  Ella returned to the box, picked it up and headed back to the first floor. She found Brady in the downstairs bedroom. He’d already put a set of sheets on the mattress and was just throwing a down comforter over the top sheet when Ella walked into the room.

  “Here,” she said, handing him a flashlight.

  Brady took it and glanced down at it briefly, and then up at Ella.

  “Go ahead and keep it next to your bed,” she explained. “I’ll be putting one in the downstairs bathroom, and another on the kitchen counter, in case the electricity goes out.

  “Thanks,” Brady said with a smile. He set the flashlight on the nightstand and watched Ella leave the room.

  When he finished making the bed, he stepped out in the hall and noticed Ella picking up some luggage she had set there earlier.

  “Can I help?” Brady asked.

  “Sure, if you don’t mind, you could bring those upstairs.” She nodded to two cases still sitting on the floor. One held her laptop, the other the manual typewriter.

  Brady quickly snatched up the two cases and followed Ella upstairs to the master bedroom. On his way up the stairs, he glanced toward the living room and noticed Sam sleeping soundly by the fireplace.

  While walking down the upstairs hallway, he looked in the doorway of the first bedroom and noticed the bunk beds. He was relieved Ella put him downstairs, in a queen sized bed. When they reached her bedroom, his immediate thought was, I want this room.

  It was a master suite with an adjoining bathroom. Its bed was much larger than his downstairs, and sported an antique brass headboard and vintage red and white quilt.

  At least six plump pillows, each encased in its own white linen pillowcase, were stacked neatly along the head of the mattress, resting ag
ainst the headboard in an inviting pile. What especially attracted his attention was the oversized picture window on the opposite wall.

  Before he had a chance to comment on the room, Ella turned around, set the luggage on the floor, pointed out the door, and said, “Oh, those go in the bedroom down the hall.”

  Brady gave her a smile, then turned and headed back down the hallway toward the room with the bunk beds. He had every intention of returning to her room after depositing the cases in the other bedroom. Brady wanted a look out the large picture window that appeared to have a spectacular view of the area surrounding the cabin. Yet, he had taken only a few steps down the hallway when he heard the door to the master bedroom shut and a clicking sound. She had locked the door.

  Chapter Eight

  After setting the two cases in the spare bedroom, Brady walked back into the hallway and found Ella coming out of her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

  “I was going to take a shower and change my clothes when I remembered we need to go up into the attic and get the snowshoes and sled,” Ella explained.

  “Do you still want me to go with you?”

  “If you don’t mind. That place kinda creeps me out.” Ella walked toward Brady, who stood in the middle of the hallway.

  “You’re afraid of your attic?” he teasingly inquired.

  “Chalk it up to a childhood phobia brought on by an overactive imagination and a scary story my older cousin loved to tell me.”

  “Sounds interesting; I’m listening.” His tone was friendlier and more relaxed than it had been after she first rescued him. He has a nice smile, Ella thought, noticing his straight white teeth. Pausing a moment, her gaze drifted from his mouth to his vivid blue eyes and she was startled by their striking color. Apparently they weren’t digitally altered, she thought, recalling the online photographs she’d viewed.

  “Do you wear tinted contact lenses?” The question just popped out of her mouth, and she regretted it the moment she uttered the words.

  “Excuse me?” Brady asked, sounding somewhat bemused.

  “I’m sorry,” Ella said, now embarrassed. “But you really have amazing eyes. I’m sure people tell you that all the time. When I looked you up on the Internet, I wondered if the photographs had been doctored to bring out the color. But looking at them in person, I just wondered if you wore tinted lenses. I’m sorry, that was a rude question.”

  Brady noticed the blush coloring Ella’s face. He studied her features a moment before responding.

  “No, I don’t wear contacts at all.” He resisted the temptation to brush the side of her face with his fingertips. He found it ironic that a woman with such striking eyes herself would notice his eye color.

  Of course, she was not the first person to ask the question about tinted contact lenses. One of the scandal rags devoted an entire page to his eye color; including false claims from an undisclosed optometrist that discussed his imaginary tinted lenses in ridiculous detail. One article even claimed his eye color had been chemically altered. However, all anyone needed to do was look at his mother’s eyes, which were the same color. Unfortunately, she had died long before her son became famous.

  Studying Ella, Brady found her eyes more compelling than his. Hers were an unusual shade of blue-green, thickly lashed, and from the close proximity, he was fairly certain she wore no makeup. He was used to women concealing their true looks behind a heavy coat of artificial color, and as best as he could tell, Ella Lewis was practically bare; her face, at least. This is what natural beauty looks like, he told himself.

  Ella wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. That would be a ridiculous claim, considering many of those in his social circle were among the most famously beautiful women in the world. This sudden and unexpected attraction toward his rescuer wasn’t simply because she was an attractive woman—there was something else. He didn’t understand it, but he wanted to explore the attraction.

  Ella turned abruptly and walked to a doorway across the hall from the spare bedroom. It was the first time Brady noticed she had a key in her hand. Hastily, Ella unlocked the door. She clutched the doorknob and opened the door slightly. She turned to face Brady.

  “You coming?”

  Brady walked toward the doorway. When she opened it a bit more, he could see a staircase.

  “That takes you to the attic?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Surprised to see the staircase, Brady had expected to get into the attic using a ladder and scuttle hole.

  “Yeah. It’s probably dusty, but there shouldn’t be many spiders, I have this place sprayed four times a year.” Ella reached into the dark hallway beyond the door and flipped a switch, turning on an overhead light.

  Brady followed her slowly up the narrow wooden staircase. “You were going to tell me why this place freaked you out.”

  “This cabin used to belong to my parents. I purchased it last year,” Ella explained, as she continued up the steps. “My folks rarely went into the attic, but my cousin used to tell me people lived up here, and at night they would come downstairs when we slept. When the cabin would creak late at night, I thought it was the people in the attic.”

  “That would sure as hell creep a kid out!” Brady laughed.

  Ella reached the top of the staircase, where there was a second door. It was unlocked. She opened the door, pushing it in slowly as if she was afraid of what she might find. By her hesitation and body language, Brady suspected some real childhood fear lingered on, and she wasn’t teasing when she said the attic freaked her out. Without hesitation, he pushed past her, and opened the door the rest of the way. It was dark in the attic. It took him just a second to find the light switch along the wall next to the doorway. He flipped it on.

  A golden glow from a light fixture on the ceiling illuminated the attic room. Glancing around, with Ella behind him at the top of the staircase, he was surprised to discover the space had only a thin layer of dust, and there was no evidence of spider webs. The center portion of the room was tall enough to stand upright, but the slanting ceiling made two of the exterior walls about four feet high. Even with the slanting walls, the space would make a cozy fourth bedroom. On the far end wall was a window, covered with foil.

  Cardboard boxes lined either side of the small room. Brady noticed the snowshoes immediately; they were on an old oak dresser on the other side of the room.

  “All’s clear,” Brady said cheerfully, his voice teasing.

  “Oh, shut up!” Ella laughed, feeling suddenly foolish for her phobia. Without thinking, she gave his arm a playful punch.

  “Ouch!” Brady cried out, exaggerating the pain. He rubbed his arm and flashed Ella a pouty expression, but the twinkle in his eyes spoiled the effect he was trying to achieve. After a second, he gave Ella a little wink and smile, then walked farther into the room, looking over the numerous boxes.

  “So, what’s all this stuff?” Brady asked.

  “Oh, some of these were up here when I bought the cabin from my folks,” Ella explained as she made her way over to the dresser and the snowshoes. “After I decided to rent out the cabin part of the year, I boxed up some of our personal belongings and put them up here. I took some other stuff home. Sometimes I regret renting out the cabin during part of the year, because that means I can’t just leave my clothes, toothbrush or food in the pantry. But some of the things, like snowshoes, I just leave up here. The snowshoes are pretty old but they still work.” She held up one set for him to see. “I’ve been considering getting one of the newer pairs; I guess they’re easier to walk in. But these will work. I figure where your car is, we should be able to get there in about thirty minutes or so.”

  “Where is the shoe part of the snowshoe?” Brady asked, reaching out and taking one snowshoe from Ella. He turned the oval shaped object in his hand, noting the animal hide lacing woven on the wooden frame. In its center were leather straps.

  “It fastens to your shoe with this,” Ella explained, pointing to the leather straps in
the center of the contraption.

  “Are there poles?”

  “Sorry, I don’t have any. I know a lot of people use poles with snowshoes, but I never have. I don’t think you’ll have a problem. The walk to the Jeep is fairly level.”

  “One thing I learned today,” Brady told her, “my shoes aren’t waterproof.”

  “Well, we’ll have to make do with what we have. They should be dry by morning and we can always wrap them in kitchen trash bags before tying them on the snowshoes, to help keep the water out,” Ella suggested.

  “That’s okay, I’ll deal with it. I think I’ll skip the trash bags,” Brady told her, thinking the paparazzi would love to catch him stumbling through the snow wearing an archaic set of snowshoes, his boots covered with trash bags. Ella just shrugged at his reaction and handed him the other snowshoe.

  Brady watched as Ella looked through the various boxes. In one, she found several ski gloves, and asked him to try a pair on. He put the snowshoes back on the dresser with the second pair and took the gloves. They fit.

  In another box, Ella found several pairs of boots more suitable for snowshoes than Brady’s. Sitting on the floor of the attic, Brady tried some on. One pair was about a half-size larger than he normally wore, but with an extra pair of socks, they should work. Fortunately, they discovered wool socks in the bottom of the boot box.

  “You know, this room would make a great spare bedroom or office for you,” Brady told her, as he tugged off the boots he was planning to wear with the snowshoes.

  “I know. I’ve been considering fixing it up,” Ella told him as she closed the box she was rummaging through.

  “What’s preventing you? Is it your childhood fear?”

  “Actually, it would help me dispel that silly fear. No longer would this be some spooky dark storage room. The reason I haven’t done anything with this space…. Where do I put all this junk?”