Silence. Nothing but the whistle of wind, its force faintly rocking the Mincemobile.
“Nothing. I can’t ...” He shook his head, then bent back over his pork belly. “Nothing.”
If he’d been on the verge of mentioning her probably-far-too-obvious crush on him ... damn, how freaking embarrassing was that?
He wasn’t making things easier on her either. Without air flowing through the vents, the warm, herbal scent of his shampoo suffused every breath she drew. Light reflecting off the snow revealed just enough of his silhouette that she could tell he was turned toward her. Watching her the same way he had earlier. And in the near-total darkness of the unlit interior, the rustle of denim brushing denim emphasized every shift of those powerful thighs.
She wouldn’t act on her attraction, but she couldn’t help feeling it. Now more than ever.
Despite the heat of his proximity, the ambient temperature was dropping rapidly inside the vehicle. The ever-deepening chill crept up the skirt of her sweaterdress and seeped through her thick stockings and fleece jacket. Her feet were warm enough in her boots for now, but that wouldn’t stay true much longer unless she bundled up more. Swallowing back a sigh, she set her plastic container on the dash while she shrugged into her wool winter coat.
“Would you like my coat too?”
He held it up for her inspection, but she already knew its appearance by heart. Deep forest green and puffy, but somehow irresistibly flattering to his lean frame. Also unlikely to fit more than about half of her own, much larger body.
“Thank you for offering. Unfortunately, it’s a bit small for me.” Not an apology for her size—she’d broken that habit over a decade ago—but an acknowledgment of reality. “And I can always grab something from my suitcase if I get too cold.”
“You could just drape it over your legs,” he suggested immediately, sounding entirely unbothered by the reminder of their physical differences.
“You need it more than I do.” Her brows drew together. “In fact, why don’t you have it on already?”
She tended to run hot, but—as she’d discovered during their weeks on the road—he didn’t. By this point, he should be zipped and bundled and layered as much as humanly possible.
“I thought leaving it off might help.” He paused, shifting in his seat. “And by that, I mean ... uh, help ... help get me used to the cold.”
What? “I don’t think that’s how things work.”
Removing his glasses, he rubbed his hands over his face. “Maybe not.”
“It’s harder to get warm again once you let your internal temperature drop too far. Please put on your coat, William.” She huffed out an amused breath. “Unless you’re determined to become the only professor at Dogwood University who can cosplay as an ICEE Pop.”
“Fine,” he muttered, then began working his arm into the first sleeve. “If it makes you happy.”
“It does.” She smiled gratefully at him in the darkness. “Much like this mac and cheese. Do you think they used Gruyère? Because it’s not just cheddar. I know that much.”
With regret, she forked up her last bite. Leisurely chewed the perfectly al dente fusilli noodles and swallowed. Scraped the container for any remaining cheese sauce—she’d have to discover the exact cheese combo Mr. Ko had used, for her own recipe collection—and licked her fork clean with a sigh of pleasure.
Beside her, William froze in place, then hastily removed his half-donned coat once more and laid it over his lap. “I think I’m warm enough without this. Sorry.”
Did guys experience hot flashes in their midthirties? Or was this some sort of macho posturing? She’d thought he was better than that, but ...
Either way, it was time to remove herself from temptation. “Listen, I’m getting a bit tired, so—”
“According to the most recent update from VDOT, it’ll be hours before we go anywhere,” he said at exactly the same time. “Why don’t we try to grab some rest while we can?”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” She shivered, hard. “If we’re not moving anytime soon, let’s clean up the food and put it in the back storage area, since that’ll be the coolest part of the interior. Then we can run the heat for a few minutesto warm up, huddle inside our coats”—one of them would be doing that, anyway—“and nap for a while.”
He reached over to turn on the engine himself. “You’re getting cold.”
Well, duh. “A bit, yes.”
Her teeth chattered despite the rush of heated air through the vents, and even in the dim light, his deep frown was obvious.
“Listen ...” He audibly swallowed, sounding oddly nervous. Also ... excited? “I was thinking maybe ... maybe we should, uh ... combine our respective body heats. While we nap.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“You ...” Was she hallucinating this? “You want us tocuddle?”
