“This is good for you,” said Asher. “You’ve been cooped up in that condo long enough. If I didn’t have a double shift on Christmas Eve, we’d find ski slopes to tackle and ski bunnies to flirt with. But I like this idea better.”
“I don’t. Diana totally hoodwinked me, playing on my protective instincts the way she did.” Cliff pointed at the camera. “That woman knew exactly what she was doing. I can’t go.” He threw two flannel shirts into the duffel bag on his bed and grabbed a pair of folded jeans.
“You don’t mean that,” said Asher.
He shoved the jeans into the corner of the bag. “Yeah, I do.”
“Then why are you still packing?”
Cliff deflated to the corner of the bed. The comforter was a dark gray color, the pillowcases black. The carpet was storm-cloud gray. The muted shades had seemed like a good idea when he’d consulted with the realtor, but now the room hung on him like a noose. “She’s the only person who brings color into a room. She wears this red coat and has a pink hoodie that drowns her, but she loves it. I see her in it all the time. And her eyes are brown, but they have this gold quality.”
“Gold?”
“I swear. She’s all innocence and cupcakes. Literally cupcakes. She makes them all the time and brings them over—like guys want to eat mermaid cupcakes.” He chuckled, thinking of her last batch. Pumpkin with yellow frosting and brown sprinkles.
“Are they any good?”
“Delicious.”
His brother didn’t laugh, and Cliff didn’t look up from the dreary carpet. This was the part of the conversation where Asher changed from a teasing, annoying younger brother into the sage. He might not have been through the heartbreak that Cliff had, but as an ER doc, he’d lived three lifetimes of trauma.
“You don’t have to go if you’re not ready.”
Cliff glared at the wall. He was suddenly so tired of living in a colorless world. Just once, just for a little while, he wanted to experience the vibrancy of life. Locking himself away had helped to heal the wounds that dreadful day left behind, but it was also turning him into someone he didn’t recognize. “I think I have to go. I need to find my way out of this mental maze.”
“Do it. And don’t forget to call me on Christmas.”
“I won’t.” He zipped up his bag and said goodbye. One last look around the room told him everything was in place. He set his bag by the front door and stared at it, willing Diana to get here soon so he could stop worrying about her getting there.
Restless and unable to hold still, he went out on the porch to wait in the cold, where maybe his fingers and ears would go numb, guaranteeing that part of him wouldn’t feel. That was what worried him the most about spending time with Diana—she made him feel.
Feeling was dangerous.
Chapter 5
Diana
It took thirty minutes to get out of city traffic and another fifteen to get on the winding mountain road that lead to Diana’s parents’ cabin. Snowdrifts lined the way, and the trees were heavy with the latest storm’s bounty. Sunlight glared off the snow, blindingly. She squinted and put down her visor.
Cliff handed her his aviator sunglasses.
She sighed with relief. “Perfect. Thanks. You’re pretty easy to travel with, you know that?” He’d carried her suitcase to the car and checked her oil before letting her start up the engine.
“You too.” He took a bite of the chocolate chip cookies she’d packed for the ride. It was her grandmother’s not-so-secret recipe. From the way they were disappearing, Cliff was a fan. She glowed with the knowledge.
They hadn’t spoken much while in traffic. She got the feeling Cliff was either having second thoughts about tagging along, or he wasn’t comfortable with her driving skills. She was a country girl and used to having wide, open lanes. Maybe some conversation would relax his hands, which were in tight fists over his knees.
“I think this is the first time we’ve ever hung out,” she offered by way of a conversation starter.
“Second.” He continued to stare ahead, indicating that she should keep her eyes on the road.
She turned back and tapped her brakes to avoid hitting the car in front of her, which took a quick right turn without signaling. “That’s not true.”
“It is. The week after you moved in, I fixed your living room lamp and you made me dinner.”
She’d forgotten about that disaster that ended with her smoke alarms going off and the two of them opening doors and windows to let out the smell. She frowned. “Burnt alfredo doesnotcount as dinner. You’re giving me way too much credit for that one.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips and then disappeared just as quickly. She took in his beard, which touched his chest in an uneven line of scragginess, and wondered what he looked like under all that hair. There was no way she was going to ask. The beard was a third of the reason he would drive her parents nuts. Wait until she told them he was an electrician. Gasp. A laborer. She grinned to herself. A quick glance out of the corner of her eye showed his fists still balled. Shoot. Cliff was so nervous—and sonice. He deserved a warning about what he was getting himself into.
