I just want to feel. I haven’t felt anything real in a very long time. I’ve jumped from man to man, trying to find something in them that I know isn’t there. But I always hope. And I always wish.
No, Ash. Just let it all go. You live your life for you, no one else. No regrets.
Sighing, I turn on the TV and find a sitcom that I can get lost in for a while. Snuggled under the crochet blanket, I sip my coffee and watch episode after episode of Modern Family, and my mind starts to relax from all things Ryan.
After a few hours, I stand up and stretch, the growling of my stomach outweighing my drooping eyelids. Searching the cabinets high and low, the only food I find is a package of Oreos. Eh, I’m not complaining.
Pouring a fresh mug of coffee, I carry it, and the cookies, back to the couch, and settle in for another marathon of episodes.
It’s some hours later that I open my eyes to the dim light of the room. Rubbing my eyes, I look around. The clock below the TV says it’s already four in the afternoon.
Picking up my mug, I make my way back to the kitchen. I need some real food. But looking out the window above the sink, I realize I may have an issue.
Shit.
It’s snowing. Hard.
I guess it started while I was napping, and it’s seriously coming down. Oh my God, I’m freaking starving!
Rushing back to the living room, I open the front door and step out onto the porch. Damn it. Wrapping my arms around myself, I look out at the sea of white.
I don’t think I can leave. It looks like a few inches have fallen in the past couple of hours, and I sure as hell am not shoveling a quarter of a mile driveway to get out.
It sure is beautiful, though. The pine trees surrounding the property are covered in fresh powder–like something off of a Christmas card. All that’s missing is Santa in his sleigh flying in the sky above.
Watching my breath cloud in the cold air, I take a few steps forward and stick my hand out to feel the soft fluffy clumps of snow falling from the sky. It’s like I’m in a snow globe.
Smiling, I tuck my arm back into me and head inside, making sure to open the front curtains wide. If I have to be snowed in, at least I can watch it fall gently down.
Grabbing my phone, I send Ally a quick text.
Hey, I’m not going to make it to dinner. I’m snowed in already. I’ll have to search the cabinets for food.
We’re stuck too, no worries! And I left you a few bottles of wine in the cabinet by the sink, and then I think there’s crackers in another cabinet. I left you a block of cheese in the fridge, too. That wasn’t left behind by people. LOL.
AHH I LOVE YOU! I thought I was going to starve!
Well, you might if it keeps snowing…lol.
As long as I have wine and cheese, I’m good.
I figured.
Don’t judge, bitch!
Ash, please…we’re like the same. That’s all I need to survive, too.
Lol, okay. So I’ll see you when this is all cleared out I guess?
Hopefully soon! I don’t want you stranded.
Just send the search party tomorrow if it’s still like this. I’ll need more supplies! LOL
Will do!
I honestly have no doubt that Ally would make Jake find a way to rescue me if I was still stranded tomorrow. I mean, wine and cheese can only last me so long. I think. I’ve never actually tried to survive on only that.
I guess there’s no time like the present.
I find the wine Ally said she left me, and I pour myself a big glass before settling back on the couch for an evening of binge-watching movies.
It’s definitely a Hallmark Channel movie kind of night. As a hopeless romantic at heart, I can’t deny the secret love I have for these movies. I’m guaranteed a happily ever after, and that’s something I could use a little of right now.
Two movies, and many glasses of wine later, a few tears fall from my eyes as the couple finally kisses in the end. The snow is falling all around them, and he holds her tight as they profess their love for one another–after only knowing each other for a short time, of course. It never matters, though. They always know they’re in love, and that’s why I love these movies.
I wish real life could be that simple. And maybe it is for some people. But never me.
A few more tears fall from my eyes, and I look down at my empty glass. Wow, how many of these have I had that I’m crying over my lack of love life?
I either need to stop drinking, or I need more.
I’m going with more.
Pouring a fresh glass, I carry it with me to go in search of food. Scanning the fridge, I find the block of Irish white cheddar Ally left for me, and I grab a plate and knife, returning just in time for the start of the next movie.
Chapter 7
I’m fucking freezing. That’s the only thought I have as I wake up shaking on the couch in the middle of the night–passing out somewhere after the third or fourth happily ever after movie and a bottle of wine.
Wrapping the crochet blanket as tightly as I can around me, I shuffle down the hall to the thermostat to check that it’s on, but I can’t freaking see. Fumbling around for the closest light switch, I flip it, and nothing happens.
Shit. No.
I flip it again and again, and nothing happens.
Hurrying into my bedroom, I try that switch, and nothing.
“Noooo.” I groan. “Are you kidding me?” I ask into the darkness.
The power’s out. Great.
Luckily, the snow makes it seem brighter outside, so I can still sort of see around the house.
Grabbing the extra blankets Ally left out for me in the other bedroom, I bring them back to the pink room, and layer them all on top of the comforter.
Burying myself below all the layers, my body continues to shake for a few minutes before it slowly mellows out, and I begin to relax.
Rolling onto my side, my eyes flutter closed, and I drift off back to sleep.
Sadly, though, I wake up a short while later–my nose frozen. Throwing the blankets over my head, I shimmy down the bed so my whole body is cocooned in the warmth.
It has to be like ten freaking degrees in here.
When my face finally heats again, I stick it back out so I don’t suffocate, and pull the blanket half up my face.
Forcing my eyes closed, the only thing that relaxes me back to sleep is thinking about Ryan holding me and kissing me. He would wrap his strong arms around me, shrouding me in his warmth, and I’d drift off to sleep–content and happy.
∞∞∞
As the dull light of the morning streams into the room, I shove my face into the blankets and warm my once again cold nose. This is ridiculous. How can I possibly still be cold?
Maybe tea would help? The stove is gas, so it should still work even without the power. But I don’t want to leave the safety of this bed.
Groaning, I slip out of the bed and instantly regret it. Holy shit, it’s freezing! Grabbing the top blanket, I wrap it tightly around me, and shove my feet into my slippers–which are also freezing–and all but run to the kitchen.
With a shaky hand, I fill the tea kettle and place it on the stove. Thank God Dottie never changed over to an electric one.
Shifting from foot to foot, I keep my blood flowing while I wait for the water to be ready.
And of course, it feels like forever before the loud whistle of the kettle sounds, and I pour the boiling water into a cup, where I already have an earl grey tea bag waiting.
Looking out the kitchen window, I feel like I could cry. It’s still snowing. Why is it still snowing?
It’s been going strong for like eighteen hours or something. And the power has already gone out, so what am I supposed to do?
Oh my God, I’m going to be stranded here. And I’m going to starve. And I’m never going to have sex with Ryan again. Damn it! I think that’s the worst part. And that definitely means I’m losing it.
Grabbing my tea, I take a sip an
d close my eyes. I need to relax.
Practically downing it in a matter of seconds, I refill it, and let the heat of the cup warm my frozen hands. Breathing in the steam, my lungs fill with the earthy scent, and I try and calm my nerves. If I let myself freak out, then I’ll just spiral.
Everything will be fine. I’ll be fine. Ally knows I’m here alone, and I know she wouldn’t let me die here.
Yup. Sure. I’m just going to keep telling myself that.
Heading back to bed, I sit up against the headboard and tuck my legs under the blankets. I’ll have to see if I can find a flashlight, candles, matches, and any spare food that’s still good to eat. At least I know I have cookies and wine. I’m just hoping that’s enough for me survive on until I can leave, or be rescued.
I should text Ally. Patting the bed down, I search for my phone, but come up empty. Shit. I think I left it in the living room last night. Banging my head back against the metal bars of the headboard, I close my eyes.
I really don’t feel like leaving this bed again.
Holding the tea close to my face, I breathe in the steam as my fingers thaw out.
Finishing it, I place the cup on the bedside table and brace myself for the mission. I’m going to run really quickly into the living room, grab my phone, and race back. Maybe the running will keep me from feeling the cold.
1, 2, 3…I fling the covers off and sprint into the next room, but my phone isn’t in sight. Oh my God. I start tossing the pillows and couch cushions until I find it wedged in the side of the couch, and I quickly run back to my room and the safety of the blankets.
With my jaw clattering together, I press my finger to my phone screen, but nothing happens. “Noooo, not this too!”
It’s dead.
I have no heat, no hot water, no food, and no way of communicating to the outside world.
Great.
Okay, let me think.
I have winter clothes–hats, scarves, gloves. I just need to layer up.
Slipping from the covers, I make it a quick change, and throw my clothes off before redressing even warmer. I add leggings beneath my sweatpants, and put on a pair of thick boot socks before shoving my feet into my slippers again. Then I put on a fleece jacket beneath my sweatshirt, and zip it all the way up my neck. Lastly, I pull my hair from its bun and put on my knit hat with a big pompom on top.
Looking in the mirror, I smile. I love this freaking hat.
Digging out my gloves from my suitcase, I put them on, and blow hot air into my fists, trying to warm them up.
I guess I’m going to have to entertain myself today.
Grabbing a few blankets from the bed, I drag them out into the living room and throw them on the couch. Walking over to the bookshelves along the wall, I run my gloved fingers across the spines of the books. There are both older and newer romance novels, mysteries, fiction, and some good old classic literature.
Gold script against a black spine catches my eye over all the other books, and I pull it from the shelf.
Oooh, damn. It’s a matte finished cover with glossy gold handcuffs, and nothing else. Under Him. The title gleams back at me and I flip the book over, reading the blurb, a small smile playing on my lips.
Settling into the couch, I wrap myself in blankets, and open to the first page. The gloves make it a little harder, but it’s still manageable.
Page after page, I read, and I can’t get enough. This book is freaking hot. I can’t believe Dottie has this on her shelf–that saucy little minx. I’m getting hot just reading this. Who needs heat when you have this book?
I need wine with this. Throwing the blankets off, I head to the kitchen and open a bottle. Carrying it, a glass, and the package of Oreos back with me, I tuck my feet under me and pour myself a hefty glass of pinot.
Taking a few big sips, I open the book back up and bite my lip. This guy is sexy as hell. He’s tall, dark, mysterious, and knows how to rock a woman’s world. I wish I had a man who cared about me as much as this guy. The only difference being I don’t need constant protection. I’m not a damsel in distress, and I never have been.
My dad raised me to be strong, fierce, and independent. I always knew I could count on him, but he also made me stand on my own two feet and tackle every mountain I faced. He was there only if I really, truly needed him.
I only need myself now. I know that.
But it would be nice to have someone there to catch me in case I failed. And I’ve been failing this year. More than I ever have in my entire life, combined.
But still I rise. I don’t give up, and I won’t give up.
Shaking my head, I take a few more gulps of wine and shove a cookie in my mouth. I just want to forget for a while that it’s just me. Opening the book again, I decide it’s safer to be lost in the life of this rich millionaire playboy who finally found the right woman for him.
Fiction is always better than reality.
As the minutes turn to hours, I lose myself in the words before me as I finish off the bottle of wine and the package of cookies.
I’m not complaining that I’m literally forced to eat cookies to survive, but I want real food. I want a big, juicy cheeseburger with bacon and avocado, and a huge side of fries–curly fries. Mmm.
Standing, I walk over to the window, and see that the snow is still steadily falling. What the fuck?! I’m never going to get food!
Walking around the house, I search for supplies. I find candles in the spare bedroom closet, and matches in a kitchen drawer. Setting them up on the living room table, I look around for a flashlight, but can’t find one.
Ugh! Doesn’t everyone who lives in the middle of the freaking woods have a flashlight?
Okay, relax. I’ll be fine. I have candles and wine. Going back to the cabinet where Ally stashed me a few bottles, I’m happy to see she still believes me to be a wino. Which, if I’m being honest, I am. But so is she.
Grabbing the last two bottles, I bring them into the living room, and set them on the table with the candles. Being drunk will at least help me to sleep through the cold.
Chapter 8
Twirling around the living room, I watch as the flames flicker and cast shadows around the room. Humming my favorite song, I sway to the imaginary beat, feeling the warmth of the wine running through my veins.
It’s dark out now, and it’s still snowing, but I don’t even care anymore. Let it fall, I say! Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
But then a loud thumping sound outside makes me scream, and I freeze where I stand.
What the hell was that?!
Oh my God.
What’s outside?
I don’t plan on dying today!
Running to the window, I look around, and am shocked by what I see. What the fuck?
Flinging the front door open, I take in what I’m assuming is a drunken fantasy, because Ryan is shoveling his way up the porch steps. It’s like a rescue mission from heaven. My God, he looks sexy as hell.
His truck is behind him with a massive plow on the front.
He plowed his way to me?
“Ryan?” I question, not sure if I’m just seeing what I wish was real. “What’re you doing?”
“Rescuing you.” He smirks, that devilish little smile making my insides melt.
“Why?”
Pinning me with his blue eyes, he takes a step towards me. “I couldn’t leave you stranded. You have no power, no phone, and no food.”
“But why would you care? I’m sure there are other things the sheriff should be concerned with.”
“Nothing more important, no.”
Oh.
“Did you bring me food?” I smile, not willing to read into the fact that he thinks saving me was the most important thing to him.
Flashing me a sexy grin, he nods. “I did. I just have to go and grab it out of my truck.” Leaning the shovel against the railing, he turns to leave, but I quickly step out onto the porch and reach for him.
“Wait,” I say, my fin
gers clinging to his sleeve.
“Yes?” he asks, turning back.
I don’t know what comes over me–maybe it’s the wine, or the fact that I’ve been going a little crazy by myself–but I step into him, wrapping my arms around him. “Thank you,” I whisper.
Circling me with his big, strong arms, I let myself relax in his embrace, and I get a taste of what it would be like to have this man as mine. He’d come to my rescue if I needed him. He’d care.
Lifting my chin from his chest, Ryan searches my eyes before lowering his head to place a soft kiss to my lips.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” I say softly, stepping out of his embrace.
I watch him walk back down the steps, and jog over to his truck. He comes back with a huge bag, and we go inside together.
Walking over to the couch, Ryan puts the bag on the table–taking out a bottle of wine and two Styrofoam take-out containers.
“What did you bring?” I ask, sitting on the floor in front of the table, leaning back against the couch. I wrap a blanket around my shoulders and open one of the containers, smiling wide. “How did you know?”
“What?”
“This is exactly what I wanted. Did you hear my thoughts all the way across town?” He brought me a cheeseburger and fries, and I could cry with how excited I am to eat right now.
“No.” He smiles. “I just guessed.”
“Well, come on. Sit and eat with me.”
Taking his coat off, I see he’s still in his uniform, and I hold back a groan. He looks so good. I drink him in like I want nothing more than to rip his uniform off of him and lick him from head to toe. But then he clears his throat. Shit.
“See something you like, sweetheart?”
“Nope.” Clearing my throat, I look back down at my food.
Chuckling, he walks over to the coat rack by the door, and hangs his up before heading down the hall to the kitchen. He comes back with a wine glass for himself and folds his large body down onto the floor next to me, opening the other to-go container.
Her Maine Reaction Page 7
