Snowed In (7 page)

Chapter 12

One mug of soup and one exceedingly silly TV movie later, Maureen was having trouble keeping her eyes open. The fire crackled and spit, and she was still buzzing from their unfinished business in the bathtub. But she was so warm and comfortable lying in Gavin's arms on the beat-up couch in the library. His hand slipped underneath the sweatshirt she'd borrowed, rubbing lazy circles on her back as the local news came on and the weatherman announced a heat wave—30 degrees, ha ha—the next day. She would definitely have to go back to real life tomorrow. But this, this felt so normal and right. It was what she would be doing anyway on a quiet evening—but with the added benefit of a handsome man with large hands to keep her warm. She sighed, knowing that even though it felt real, it wasn't. It was just a prolonged one-night stand. In the morning, Gavin would stop pretending, and so would she.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” he asked.

“Hmm? No. The fire is just making me dreamy.”

“Not the news?”

“No,” she laughed. “The news is making me depressed.”

He turned it off and continued stroking her back.

He liked having her here. Gavin's senses were still humming from their bath, but right now he was so comfortable with her in his arms that he didn't want to move. And he thought if he made a move on her, it would break the spell that had fallen over them. There was something about Maureen that felt so right. He couldn't explain it, but he wasn't fool enough to question it. Instead he listened to her breathing as it deepened, and listened to her heart beating against his chest as the last embers of the fire spit and died out.

“Ready for bed?” he asked, brushing her hair off her face. He loved that mane of blonde curls that she couldn't seem to control. It was sexy as hell.

She just nodded in response, and he realized she must have been asleep. Poor, tired girl. He had worked her hard today. It wasn't even her responsibility, but she'd helped him without complaint, and with Pippa's house too, a complete stranger. Maureen had done enough today, so he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

He laid her down on the bed. As he crawled in next to her, he thought about how right she looked there too. She looked great there, naked and aroused, but even sleepy and wearing his old college sweatshirt, she fit.

He loved her.

How could that be? They had really only known each other for a day—a long day, sure, but just a day. But Gavin knew too much about losing people to question this gift. He pulled her close, running his hands under her sweatshirt and resting them on her warm back. He would talk with her tomorrow. Maybe not about love, but at least about a second date.

That was for tomorrow. Tonight he was lying next to a beautiful woman, and he didn't want to waste any time sleeping.

Maureen opened her eyes. She wasn't sleeping, really, but suddenly everything felt like too much. Closing her eyes hadn't helped, though. She wanted Gavin. She wanted him now, and she wanted him tomorrow and next week and forever. It scared the hell out of her.

But when she opened her eyes, she found him looking at her, and there was something in his gaze that comforted her, and terrified her, and made her heart race. He wanted her, she knew that. She would take what she could, and then she would go. For now, she would take what he was giving.

He traced her brow, brushing her hair away in a gesture that had become so familiar in such a short time. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips. She moved to deepen the kiss, but he kept it sweet, trailing kisses down her neck. He pulled the sweatshirt over her head and continued the trail down her body, to the soft underside of her breasts, her stomach, all of the spots where she was most sensitive but that no one had discovered before. He explored her gently but so thoroughly that her pulse was racing, heat and moisture pooling between her thighs. She explored him with her hands, memorizing the planes of his back, the curve of his shoulder, the blunt tips of his fingers, the taper of his waist and the rise of his ass. When they were both panting, he sheathed himself and entered her with a slow deliberation that had her clutching his shoulders. But he kept the pace slow, pushing firmly in and out, his eyes locked on hers. Maureen wanted to tilt her head, arch her back to urge him faster, faster, but she was trapped by his gaze. He was willing her to understand something. Love, she thought, disbelieving but at the same time, sure. She couldn't stop the tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes, moved beyond control at the beauty of Gavin and the two of them together, moving in a slow rhythm, building sensation inside of her. He leaned down to kiss the tears away and she arched up, shuddering as her quiet release snuck up on her. He stiffened and let out a quiet groan—more of a sigh, really—as his own release took over. She shook in the aftermath but he pulled her close, aligning her body with his. And they slept.

Chapter 13

Maureen woke to an empty bed. She looked around for Gavin, then for her clothes, neither of which were in the room. Maybe he was working? She knew she didn't smell coffee, though, so she decided to avail herself of the kitchen again. She looked at the clock across the room—plenty of time for breakfast before she had to get home and ready for work. Well, plenty of time if she hurried.

Not bothering to find the robe—she was comfortable here, and he'd already seen everything anyway—she headed down to the kitchen thinking that this morning would be an omelet morning.

She had the coffee brewing and was just whisking the eggs together when she heard noises coming from the office. She smiled. It must be nice to have a home office. Just roll out of bed and into work, no dress code. She thought about answering reference questions in her pajamas. Maybe she'd bring it up in the next staff meeting.

She was laughing to herself, whisking away, when Gavin walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Gavin, did you talk with the client about—”

He stopped in the doorway. That wasn't Gavin. She was standing in the kitchen, naked, whisk dripping, in front of a stranger who was staring slack-jawed at her.

No, not a stranger.

She screamed.

“Dave!”

 

 

Gavin heard the scream and ran up the stairs, clutching the warm laundry he had just pulled out of the dryer.

Maureen was standing naked in the kitchen with her arms covering herself, not very well, staring in shock at the new guy, who was standing in the doorway.

And he was staring right back at her.

Gavin gave himself a mental head slap. Of course. Dave. His Dave was her Dave. His new guy was the asshole who'd broken her heart.

Gavin wanted to sock Dave in the jaw, or at least force him to pick it up off the floor. Mostly he wanted him to stop looking at Maureen.

“What are you doing here, man?” he said, getting Dave's attention. Gavin had had the same idea as Maureen and was also wearing no clothes. He held the laundry in front of his naked self and faced the new guy. The asshole. Dammit, Dave was a good employee. He didn't want him to be the asshole.

“I needed to catch up on work I missed yesterday,” Dave said, indicating a file folder in his hand. “My internet's out. What's she doing here?”

“That's none of your business,” Gavin said, taking a step closer.

“Oh, I think I can figure it out. Jesus, Maureen, did you even let the sheets get cold before you were on to the next guy?”

Gavin stepped up into his face. This was not happening here, or anywhere.

“Did I let the sheets get cold?” Maureen screeched, dropping her arms. “You were the one who dumped me, remember? You were the one who ‘just wasn't feeling it'!”

“Well, obviously I wasn't the only one not feeling it if you could just hop into bed with the next guy you met!”

“Hey! Knock it off!” Gavin was dangerously close to punching his employee in the nose. “Maureen, go get dressed,” he said, handing her some clothes while stepping into boxers as modestly as he could. “I'll take you home. Dave, get in that office and don't come out till I come back.”

“Shit, man, I didn't—”

“Go!” Gavin turned to say something to Maureen, he didn't know what. Something to comfort her, or to apologize, or to explain that he'd had no idea, he had been too blinded by lust to make the connection between her Dave and his Dave. There were a lot of guys named Dave, dammit.

But she was gone.

 

 

The ride home was tense, but for the life of her, Maureen could not think of a thing to say. Seeing Dave in Gavin's office was definitely a reality check. She would have liked a gentler exit from their snow-bound fantasy world, but she supposed she should be grateful for having lived the fantasy at all.

She wasn't ready for it to be over, but there it was. Standing in front of her, fighting with her. While she was naked.

Dammit, she hadn't thought about Dave for almost a whole twenty-four hours. She was over him. Seeing him again proved that. She'd seen him, and she hadn't wanted him again. Even if he hadn't been so ugly to her, he just wasn't enough for her. She wanted someone who saw her, who heard her, who wanted
her
. And she needed time alone to figure out how to get that. How to get it in the real world, at least. She certainly had it in the fantasy world with Gavin.

So now, as Gavin drove her home with knuckles white on the steering wheel, she would have plenty of time to be on her own and figure out who she was and what she wanted.

She tried to ignore the little part of her heart that reminded her she wanted Gavin.

“Hey, don't let him upset you,” Gavin said with concern in his eyes.

“I'm not,” she sniffled. Dammit, when had she started crying?

“It doesn't look like you're not upset,” he teased.

She rounded on him, her eyes furious. “Don't do that. Don't act like you know me. We've known each other for, what, one day? Two days? We had this little snow day fling. Now it's over. You don't have to comfort me, okay? You don't have to worry about me. We're nothing to each other.”

He looked as if she had just slapped him, but he turned his eyes back to the road.

Maureen took a deep breath. “I'm sorry. That was harsh. I'm just a little on edge. I wasn't expecting . . . seeing Dave was a bit of a wake-up call.”

“A wake-up call for what? Maureen, you guys broke up. You're allowed to see whoever you want.”

She sighed. “I know. I know! But this thing you and I had, it was just—”

“Just what?”

“Just, I don't know, convenient. Entertainment. A happy coincidence of the weather. It's not reality.”

“You don't think last night was reality?”

She did think it. But she had to be firm. She needed to be alone for a while. Yes, that was it. Alone. If she said it enough, she would eventually convince herself. “No. It was just . . . a snow day.”

He looked at her then. It was obvious he didn't believe her. But he let it go.

“Listen, Dave isn't a bad guy. I mean, I'm done with him, but I don't want him to get in trouble for what happened earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, don't fire him because he's my ex-boyfriend. I know he's good at his job.”

“Fine,” he said, pulling into the Cold Spot. Someone had shoveled her car out. At least she'd be able to make a quick getaway.

“Maureen—”

“I'll see you,” she said as she tumbled out of the car, hoping that she wouldn't. But also hoping that she would.

Chapter 14

Two weeks. Two damn weeks since he'd seen Maureen, and Gavin was going crazy. He could barely focus on business. It was a good thing Dave had doubled down on work. Gavin told him he didn't have to prove himself, that he could keep his job. Of course, when Dave refused to give Gavin Maureen's phone number, he almost reconsidered.

Gavin had established a new nightly routine: first, case the grocery store parking lot to see if her car was there. Then consider the possibility that she could have gotten a ride, or a new car. Then mope around the frozen foods until a store employee asked if he needed help, then go home with his tail between his legs. Pathetic. And maybe a little too stalker-y for his liking.

So that was it. He was done. It was Friday afternoon, he'd sent Dave home early, he would go out to the Cold Spot, get rip-roaring drunk, pass out on Brick's couch and wake up when it was summer.

His phone rang just as he was convincing himself that he might be a little low on milk.

“Marv is coming over and none of my cookbooks have low-carb recipes,” Pippa barked in his ear.

“I don't have any cookbooks, Pippa. Can't you find something online?”

“Online! You can't trust those recipes online! The last time I used a recipe online I made cupcakes that tasted like paperweights. I need a cookbook.”

Gavin had never used a recipe online before, but he was pretty sure they were as trustworthy as the ones in the books.

But then he had a burst of genius.

“I'll take you to the library.”

 

 

Maureen was glumly typing up her monthly report in her office. The monthly report was not a thrilling project—lots of statistics and enthusiastic descriptions of circulation numbers and program attendance. But she welcomed the distraction. It was hard to think about Gavin while she was tallying up the number of people who had asked for the bathroom key. It was hard, but she was still managing to do it.

“Hey, Maureen.” The head librarian stuck her head in Maureen's office. “Can you help out at the reference desk? There's a woman with a question.”

Maureen looked at the desk schedule tacked next to her computer. Technically, it was the head librarian's shift.

“I know, I know,” her colleague said sheepishly. “It's just that, well, she's, um, a lot to deal with. And I have this raging headache. And I'll finish your monthly report and let you leave early.”

It would be impossible to think about Gavin while dealing with a difficult patron.

“Sure.”

“You're my hero. Thanks, Maureen.”

As Maureen headed past the stacks toward the reference desk at the front of the library, she noted a few patrons browsing the shelves and heard the ending strains of a story time song coming from the children's section. She got to the desk and barely looked up before the patron started in on her.

“Listen, I don't know why you put all of these things on a computer, but I can't find the damn cookbooks.”

Maureen knew that voice. She looked up, straight into the eyes of the lipsticked, leathery face of the strange old lady from the grocery store.

Maureen vaguely remembered promising to kiss her. That didn't seem like such a good idea now.

“Um . . .”

“Hey, it's you! The girlie from the grocery store! Did you do what I told you? Did you f-”

“Yes! Yes,” Maureen interrupted her.

“Good girl! I'm proud of you. But why do you look so miserable? You do it wrong or something?”

“No, we did fine. We did great, actually, it's just that—”

Her explanation died on her lips. Coming out of the stacks with his arms full of what looked like cookbooks—was Gavin.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. He still looked like a god. A god with dark circles under his eyes, but a gorgeous god all the same.

Pippa turned to see what she was looking at.

“Yeah, he's pretty easy on the eyes. But listen, he's been a real mopey-dopey lately. Hey, maybe you should—”

“You know him?”

“Gavin? Sure, he lives next door.”

“Next door?”

“What are you, deaf? Yeah, next door. Takes good care of me, too. He shoveled my driveway during the big storm. He and this little cutie—” Pippa squinted her eyes, getting a better look at Maureen. “Wait a second. You're his little cutie!”

“Shh!” Maureen said. Gavin still hadn't spotted them, and she was hoping to escape unnoticed. If she didn't, she was pretty sure she was going to pass out behind the desk.

But it was too late. As Pippa waved her arms and called her “cutie,” Gavin looked up. His eyes immediately locked onto hers, and he nearly dropped the books he was holding. “Shit,” he muttered, gathering his wits and bringing the books to the desk.

“Hi,” he said, breathless.

“Hi,” she whispered. He looked so good, and she'd missed him so much. What was the reason she wanted to stay away again?

“I missed you,” he said. “I would have called, but—”

She wanted to be alone, that was it. She wanted to find herself so she could be strong, and not lose herself in another relationship. She didn't want to be in a position where she loved her partner more than he loved her.

But he could have called her.

He probably would've called her, but she hadn't given him her number. She'd run away like a coward, and now here he was, not mad, not proud, just glad to see her.

She could love a man like that.

She already did.

“Dang, you two, get a room,” Pippa said, snatching the cookbooks from the desk. “I'll meet you in the car, lover boy. Don't leave without her number.”

“How have you been?” she asked, lamely.

“Fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Miserable, but fine.”

“Me too,” she admitted.

“Do you think—” he started at the same time as she said, “I'm sorry I was such a—”

“Go ahead.”

“You first.”

“Okay,” Maureen said, taking a deep breath. “I'm sorry I was such a coward. I just got out of a long relationship and I thought I needed to figure out what I want, and that meant time alone.”

“That makes sense. It would have been nice to know that, but it makes sense.”

“But that's not what I want, Gavin. I don't want to be alone. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid that you'll break my heart worse than Dave ever could.” She paused. “You didn't fire him, did you?”

“No. I took someone's advice and showed compassion.”

“Okay, good. Thank you.”

“I don't want you to be afraid,” he said, reaching across the desk to brush her hair off her forehead. That gesture, already so familiar, brought tears to her eyes.

“I'm not. I mean, I am, but seeing you again . . . I've been such a fool.”

“Not a fool,” he said, wiping her tears. “We'll take it slow, okay?”

“Slow?”

“How about dinner tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Sure. I know this great little pub. They serve the best fries, and I know the owner. I can get you extra.”

“Yes. Okay, tonight.” Maureen smiled. “Actually, tonight will be perfect.”

“Why is that?” Gavin asked, running his fingers over her hand.

“They're predicting snow.”