“No.”
“And why do you suppose that is?”
“I know it’s icy,” she said, still bouncing. “But you probably drive a crazy souped-up Hummer or something, right? Please?”
Those eyes had some kind of mojo that in any other circumstance might’ve had me on my knees by now, preferably with my tongue buried deep inside her, but I held firm.
“Negative. For one thing, your car is blocking my exit. For another, youdorealize what’s happening out there, right?” I jerked my head toward the expanse beyond my porch, a sea of white in all directions. You couldn’t even tell where the sky ended and the snowdrifts began. “Only an idiot would drive in this shit.”
The bouncing stopped. Her eyes glazed with tears, and suddenly I felt like the biggest asshole walking.
“An idiot,” she said, her lip quivering.Aww, hell. Here we go. Three, two, one, and…“Or maybe just a person who loves her family and hasn’t been able to spend Christmas with them in forever, and is looking forward more than anything in the world to holding her two-month-old nephew for the very first time, and surprising her twin four-year-old nieces with a visit from Santa’s helper, and giving her parents home-made Christmas presents she spentmonthsworking on. But it’s cool, I get it. You’re busy. You don’t do visitors. You’re the Grinch. I’m an idiot. Glad we cleared that up. So thanks for your time, Mr. I Hate Christmas, but I think I’ll take my chances with adifferentcrazy mountain recluse.”
She wiped her eyes with the scarf again and turned on her heel, stomping down the porch stairs and back out into the frigid snow, red hair blowing out behind her.
I sighed. I didn’t know jack about this girl, but somehow I knew—way down deep in the icy wasteland of my heart—I was done for. Absolutely, positively done for.
Fucking gingers, man.
I hopped off the porch and caught up with her in two strides, grabbing her arms in a tight grip.
“Adifferentcrazy mountain recluse? Yeah, I don’t think so, Cupcake.”
