If he’s a crazed killer trying to con his way into my house to chop me and Elsa into bits, he should have finessed his evil plan a bit more.
“I’m visiting. Didn’t pack a charger. I was working right up to the last minute and threw my things together in a hurry.” He closes his eyes like he’s either annoyed with himself for forgetting or with me for asking. Hard to tell. “I’ve just turned my bag inside out and nothing.”
“Well, I can’t let a strange man into my house. You could be an ax murderer.”
He cracks a smile. It’s small, but it reaches his brown eyes and makes them sparkle. He holds his arms out wide. “Look, no axes.”
He does a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree twirl. Two perfectly formed butt cheeks rotate into view and out again.
“You can pat me down, if you like.” He raises his eyebrows.
It’s more tempting than I would like. I mean, how often does a hot dude show up on your porch and offer to let you put your hands all over him? Also, it has, you know, been a while.
There’s a moment of awkward silence I find impossible to fill with any appropriate words. Inappropriate ones would be easier.
He slides the phone back in next to his butt and sighs. He looks like he’s suddenly realized he’s out of options.
“Let me start over. I should probably introduce myself.” He thrusts a hand toward me, as if being friendly will change everything. “Hi. I’m Owen. And I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
Is he? Or is he desperate for a phone charge and I’m his only hope?
I squeeze my arm through the gap and take his hand. Oh, my God, how does a hand feel that good? The perfect combination of holding me gently, yet also giving a confident, solid shake.
His smile widens, and my belly goes a little wobbly.
“Wow. Your hand is nice and warm.” He puts his other hand on top, sandwiching mine between his. The wobbles creep lower.
An attractive stranger is holding my hand through the chain-latched gap in my door. And there I was thinking a hot chocolate would be the most exciting part of my evening.
Finally, I find a word.
“Summer,” I say.
“Sorry?”
“My name. Summer.”
“Oh, right, yes.”
Just as his hands start to thaw around mine, he gives it a quick squeeze then lets go.
“You seem to be the only house up here.” He rubs his upper arms and hops from foot to foot. “The battery died during a crucial call. And I don’t know my way without the map. Never been here before.” He gazes back toward the dark, snowy, deserted street. “So I’m also lost.”
I can’t let him draw me in with his sparkling eyes, cupid’s bow lips, and perfect square shoulders. Being handsome doesn’t necessarily mean you’re not a crazed killer.
“If you murder me, I’ll be the idiot who let a murderer into her house.”
I’m getting cold from the chill coming through the door, so goodness knows how close to freezing he must be out there.
He sighs.
I don’t think he should be the one losing his patience in this situation.
“Thing is, I’m pretty desperate right now.” He tips his head to one side. “But I get that letting a random stranger into your house might not feel safe. How about I borrow your charger and sit out here in the car till I have enough power, then give it back?”
“What phone do you have?”
He pulls it from his back pocket and holds it up. I bet it’s warm from being nestled against one of those firm cheeks.
