Page 10 of Snow Globe Secrets

Austin held out his hand, palm up in front of the cashier. “I got you,” he said, and she smiled, handing over the scanner gun.

I paid and we left, the cashier imploring us to “be safe.” As the door opened for us, an announcement came over the store’s intercom, announcing that the supermarket would be closing in an hour due to the Inclement weather. We could hear our cashier letting out a little whoop.

Austin turned around and waved. “You be careful getting home too!”

The snow and wind had picked up while we were inside, so we ran back to the vehicle. Austin had the cart, and I fished out my keys, starting the car and opening the back hatch.

Our luggage was there, so I worked to shove it as far back as I could as Austin came around the other side and lined up grocery bags in the space I created.

“I’ll put the case in the back seat,” I yelled over the wind. I turned, and a blast of wind hit my face and glasses.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I removed them and tried to find a piece of clothing to wipe them off on. Only I was bundled up in a wool coat, scarf, and leather gloves. I thought about unbuttoning my coat to get to my sweater, which was only a slightly better option, but before I could, Austin was in front of me, his puffy coat unzipped. “Here,” he said as he pulled up his sweatshirt and yanked a soft-looking T-shirt out of his sweatpants. I stared at his hand and the sliver of skin he’d exposed, my thoughts a jumble of cold weather, acts of kindness, and bare stomachs. I had been spending so much time alone, even back when I was married, that I was unused to anyone doing small favors for me. I must have stared too long, thinking how remarkably kind his act was, so he repeated himself.

“Here,” he said again, only the wind would have taken it so he kind of shouted it directly in my face. Then he took the glasses in one hand and pulled the T-shirt up higher with the other, his belly button peeking out as he attempted to wipe them off.

He looked at my glasses as if he were about to put them on himself and shrugged. “Not great.” He leaned in so that he was talking directly in my ear, our cheeks so close they brushed together for a second. If I’d had my wits about me, I’d have jumped back, but I was still fixated on the flat, smooth stomach that Austin was covering back up.

His breath was hot, the wind cold as he continued. “You go get settled in the car and get these cleaned off for real. It’s going to be enough of a challenge driving home in this without you wondering if it’s snow or a smudge you’re looking at. I’ll finish up out here, and we’ll get on our way.” He didn’t give me the chance to argue, he merely turned, put the last bag in the trunk, then took off with the cart to the passenger side of the car to load the beer.

I took to the driver’s seat and found my glasses case in the center console as I adjusted the heat and turned both my heated seat and Austin’s on.

The back passenger side door slammed, and I watched as Austin ran back to the entrance of the building, returning the cart and carefully lining it, and a few other stray carts, back into the neat row they were designed to be stored in.

I tuned my satellite radio to a station that provided regional weather, and they confirmed what I was seeing with my eyes. Heavy snow, punishing winds, and brutal temperatures.

Austin reemerged from the front of the store, his head down, hands shoved in his pockets. He looked up briefly, right, then left, then at me, before sprinting for the car.

He was a flurry of cold and motion as he clambered quickly and elegantly into my vehicle.

“Shit, man, I’m sorry. Your fancy car is going to be a mess with all the snow we’re tracking in.”

“So long as you don’t mind it when we’re driving to Jersey, I certainly don’t mind. It can always be cleaned.”

“If we drive to Jersey. At this rate we might be snowed in forever.” I put the car in drive as Austin unzipped his coat and sat up, his behind lifting from the seat. He had a hand under his sweatshirt again, and he asked, “You good with the glasses, or do you need my T-shirt again?”

Keeping my eyes on the Hampstead University logo on his chest and not looking any lower, I assured him I was fine and that my cabin was only about fifteen minutes from the supermarket.

It took us over an hour to get home.

Chapter Five

Austin

“Just a bit longer,” he kept saying in that oh-so-subtle British accent, more to himself, I thought, than to me. The snow was starting to stick, but the roads were passable. The real issue was the swirling snow in front of us, practically blocking our view of everything except its blinding, chaotic fall.

He’d made only one turn off the road from the supermarket and onto one with a steep incline, and Randall took it slowly and steadily, his gloved hands gripping the steering wheel, his face scrunched up in concentration. I left him to it, quietly looking out the windshield in an effort to assist, if needed, with staying on the road.

Eventually, he flipped his turn signal and let out a sigh. “Here we are.” He smiled, relaxing his face and shoulders. All I could see was more swirling snow and a narrow driveway or roadway, lined on both sides with tall trees.

“Winter wonderland,” I muttered, and he laughed. The stretch of road was long and secluded, the dense line of trees eventually opening up to a clearing, with a modern cabin at its center, all glass and blond wood and stone.

“No, seriously,” I insisted, looking up at the picturesque scene. “This place looks like a fucking snow globe.”

“I imagine everything from here to the Jersey Shore looks like a snow globe right about now,” he countered.

“True.” I laughed again, but it was also true that I had never seen a more beautiful image; not even the rolling hills and ornate buildings of Hampstead University could compete with this guy’s house.

Randall drove around to the side and hit a button that opened one of the two garage doors. Even the side view of his cabin was impressive.