CHAPTER 11
NATE
I trudge up the path to my front door, my boots leaving deep impressions in the fresh snow. The sun set over an hour ago, and the temperature has dropped enough that my breath creates visible puffs in the air. It’s been a long day of marking trees for the spring harvest, and all I want is to get inside where it’s warm.
That’s when I spot it—a paper bag sitting in the snow by my door. My first instinct is wariness, but when I see the cheerful food doodles decorating the bag, I figure it can only be from one person. Caspian.
Inside the bag, I find a container of what appears to be homemade ice cream, along with a card. The envelope has more of those playful doodles.
Because everyone needs ice cream, even in winter! - Caspian
I shake my head, amused by his logic, and before I can talk myself out of it, I’m walking a few feet to my left and knocking on his door. Quick footsteps approach, and then there he is, wrapped in an oversized sweater that makes him look somehow smaller and more endearing.
“You got my surprise!” His face lights up with that sunshine smile of his.
“Ice cream? In January?” I raise an eyebrow, but the corners of my mouth twitch upward nonetheless.
He steps back, gesturing for me to come in. “Ice cream is a year-round food group. I won’t hear otherwise.”
His apartment is warm and cozy, with the scent of coffee and cinnamon lingering in the air. “You’re ridiculous,” I tell him, but I’m already following him to his kitchen.
“Ridiculously thoughtful,” he corrects, pulling bowls from a cabinet. “How was work?”
“Cold. Productive.” I lean against his counter, watching him scoop generous portions of what appears to be maple walnut ice cream. “How about you?”
“Amazing!” He practically bounces on his toes. “I made a new friend today—Felix. He’s a single dad with two adorable girls, and get this! He designs book covers and writes romance novels!”
His enthusiasm is contagious, and I find myself smiling more freely than I have in weeks. “That’s quite a combination.”
“Right?” Caspian hands me a bowl, our fingers brushing briefly. “He might help me set up the book corner at Special Blend. I told him about my mom’s romance collection, and he got so excited about having a local place to showcase indie authors.”
I take a spoonful of the ice cream, and despite my initial skepticism, the rich maple flavor is perfect. “This is good,” I admit, watching Caspian’s eyes light up with triumph.
“See? I told you ice cream knows no season.” He hops up to sit on the counter, feet dangling as he digs into his own bowl. “Though I have to say, the cold here is something else. How do you stand it?”
“Says the guy who made ice cream.” I move to lean against the counter next to him, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “You’ll get used to it. Eventually.”
“Eventually,” he echoes, then bumps his shoulder against mine. “At least I have a neighbor who can teach me all about surviving Vermont winters.”
Something in his voice makes me look up, and I find him watching me with those expressive dark eyes. A drop of ice cream clings to his lower lip, and before I can stop myself, I’m reaching up to brush it away with my thumb.
The kitchen suddenly feels too small, too warm. Caspian’s breath catches, and I realize how close we’ve gotten. He leans in slightly, and I can smell the coffee on his breath, see the dark-blue rims around his brown irises. Definitely too close.
It would be so easy to close the distance between us, to taste the maple sweetness on his lips. But this is a dangerous path, so I pull back, clearing my throat.
“I should probably head home,” I say, my voice rougher than intended. “Early start tomorrow.”
“Oh.” The disappointment in his voice is clear, but he forces a smile. “Right, of course. Thanks for trying my winter ice cream experiment.”
As I place my bowl in the sink, our hands brush again, and the spark is impossible to ignore. For a moment, we both freeze, the simple point of contact feeling like a live wire between us.
“Nate,” Caspian says softly, and something in the way he says my name makes my resolve waver.
I step back, putting necessary distance between us. “Thanks for the ice cream. It was…unexpected.” The words come out more formal than I intend, and I see him flinch slightly.
“That’s me. Full of surprises.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time, and guilt twists in my stomach. I’m not ready for this, for him, for the way he makes me feel like I’m standing on the edge of something both terrifying and exhilarating.
“Good night, Caspian,” I manage, already heading for the door.
