"So you're still spending your holiday at the new beach house?" Mair asks me.
"Yeah. It's been kind of a whirlwind of holiday events and parties these last two months, and I'm dying to have some alone time. I promise after the holidays, I'll invite you over so you can check the place out. It's gorgeous, right on the water. A perfect little retreat for me."
Mair squeezes my hand. "I'm so happy for you. That's awesome."
Snow greets me when I leave the party, and I quietly grumble to myself as I make my way to the parking lot. I should have left an hour earlier before the sun started setting - I hate driving on the mountain in the dark. But I'm determined to start my solo vacation by the ocean tonight.
Within fifteen minutes, the snow becomes uncomfortably heavy, but I'm even more determined to get off this mountain before it gets truly dangerous. As I make a right turn, I realize my GPS screen has frozen. I pull over to reboot it, but it refuses to go back online. When I check my phone, I don't have service either.
Shit.
I don't know these mountain roads well enough to navigate without GPS, but I can't just sit here as snow blankets my windshield. Taking a deep breath, I review what I remember from the directions and turn on my windshield wipers to clear my vision. Back on the road, I drive slower, focusing intently on the road ahead as the snow falls faster and faster.
Half an hour later, I think I've made progress down the mountain when suddenly a deer runs out in front of my car. I slam on the brakes in shock and immediately go into a tailspin, spinning on the ice before crashing into a small yard with trees. Blinking, I see a tiny cabin in front of me with smoke curling from the chimney.
I step out and squint through the swirling snow as a broad-shouldered figure emerges from the cabin. Snowflakes cling to my lashes, and I wipe them away, trying to see who's walkingtoward me. When I make out the burly mountain man with his thick silver beard and bright blue eyes, I gasp.
"You?"
"Are you okay?" Lorne asks, then immediately adds, "Come in, come in. It's freezing out here," as he helps me walk along the icy lawn toward his home.
Once inside, I take off my snow-covered sweater, and he gestures for me to warm up by the fire.
"Your car's blocking the road a bit. I'm going to push it onto my property. I'll be right back," he says.
Standing in Lorne's studio cabin, I warm myself by the fire as I look around. There is a Christmas tree by the fire and holiday lights along the mantle twinkling. His home is tiny but cozy and smells like delicious stew. I peer over at the kitchen and see a large pot simmering on the stovetop.
When Lorne comes back in, he says, "Would you like some hot tea, or I have beer or wine?"
"Wine sounds good. I don't think I'll be driving anywhere tonight. My nerves are frazzled."
"You're not hurt, right?" he asks, walking toward me. His eyes scan me up and down, sending an annoying thrill to my traitorous pussy.
"No. I feel okay. Just a little shaken up."
"Is red okay?" Lorne asks, walking to his kitchen.
"Sounds perfect. Thank you."
Ten minutes later, he insists I sit down with him and enjoy some beef stew, which I do, relishing its cozy, delicious warmth.
"This is fantastic. Thank you," I say.
Lorne smiles at me, and I swear I can see his cheeks reddening under his beard.
"So, I think you might be stuck here through the holidays," he says, giving me an apologetic grin.
"Shit. Really?"
"Yeah. We're having quite a snowstorm, and given where I am, I don't think the plows will get to us in the next few days. Although this is my first winter here, so I may be wrong, but it is what my real estate agent warned me about when I bought the place."
Sighing, I shrug. "Well, I guess I'm grateful that you chose this place and that it wasn't vacant when I crashed. Thank you for taking me in."
"Of course," he says, his cheeks turning a brighter shade of red.
After my second generous glass of wine from Duskwood Winery, I feel satisfied and drowsy.
"Obviously, you will take the bed," Lorne offers, and I shake my head in response.
