Page 14 of Snow Globe Secrets

“I just got off the phone with your dad and let him know we’re safe and settled.”

“Really, Randall, I can’t thank you enough.” Strange, how I loved the way he said my name. Another thing I would need to ignore over the next few days.

“Between you and your dad, you have both already thanked me about a hundred times. No more. Me casa es su casa, okay?”

“Gracias.” He nodded with a smirk that zigged through me, lighting me up even more than hearing him say my name. Though perhaps both ranked just below my first glance of him shirtless. We exited the laundry room, Austin hugging the little Christmas tree to his chest before placing it on the kitchen counter. We shared a smile and I shook my head.

“Lovely.”

“Merry Christmas!”

I laughed before encouraging Austin to relax. “The washer will buzz my phone when it’s done, so you can go relax by the fire if you’d like, and I’ll start dinner. Feel free to turn on the TV, or there are books both down here and upstairs, on your side.” I pointed to the loft. “I’ve made the bed up. Well, it’s one of those futons, not quite a bed, but it’s all yours, that side.”

He looked up at the loft, then over toward the fireplace. “There’s a TV?”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. I fished out the remote control from its drawer in the end table and pushed the button that triggered the wood panel to retract, exposing the TV and then handing the remote to Austin.

I hardly ever watched TV; it had come with the house, but occasionally in the morning I would put the news on, and that’s what popped up when he turned on the set.

I moved to the kitchen and watched as Austin scrolled through the guide until he found what he wanted. A festive image adorned the screen as bells jingled and music played.

He left the remote on the end table. Polite host that I was, I didn't run over to put it back in its spot in the drawer.

When I emerged from bending down to find a frying pan, Austin was right there.

“I’ll help.” He smiled a relaxed and happy smile.

Chapter Seven

Austin

I’d caught him looking earlier, and I knew he was my dad’s friend and all, but when I looked at him, with those Clark Kent glasses and that awkward smile, all I could see was a handsome man. A man I was about to be stuck with, possibly for days on end, in a beautiful, open, cozy cabin in the mountains, secluded together in the woods. It was the stuff of romance movies or horror films or porn.

But one look at Randall freaking out and trying to pretend he wasn’t freaking out, because I had placed the remote on the coffee table, had me thinking this encounter had rom-com written all over it. The stressed-out look certainly didn’t make him any less attractive, so maybe what it really was, was one of those not-safe-for-work movies. I took him in as he flitted around the kitchen, trying hard to think of him as one of my parents' dorky friends. Trying, and failing.

While the bells jingled and a talented woman assured us she didn’t want that much for Christmas, I bopped my way around him and offered to help.

“I …” he began, placing the frying pan on the stovetop that was housed in the kitchen’s island. I could see his wheels grinding, looking for a reason to shoo me away. “You’re my guest; don’t be silly. Go, relax, drink a beer.”

“Don’t be ridiculous; we’re stuck here for God knows how long. You’re not going to wait on me hand and foot. Besides,”—I opened the fancy wine cooler built into the kitchen cabinets and pulled out a bottle of white—“if anyone should be relaxing, it’s you.” I started opening drawers, looking for a corkscrew, and without my having to ask, Randall pulled one out and handed it to me.

“Much as neither of us may want to admit it”—I pointed the corkscrew at him—"that drive was harrowing. You got us here in one piece, and I know that wasn’t easy. If you don’t want to share kitchen duty”—the cork popped—“you go relax, and I’ll cook dinner.”

Glasses were easier to find, on a rack above the wine cooler. I poured two glasses and passed one to Randall.

He let out an enormous sigh while smiling at the same time, and those dark eyes danced in the overhead kitchen light. “It was fairly bad there toward the end. I could barely see the roadway! I’ve only lived here a few months. I’m glad the roads are so well marked.”

“It was bad, wasn’t it?” I agreed.

“But we’re safe and sound now and …”

“And we’re going to make some dinner!”

“I am quite hungry.” Yeah, he was going to have to stop using the word quite in that oh-so-subtle British accent if he didn’t want me thinking naughty thoughts about him. Oh, and he was definitely going to have to stop checking me out, which he did again as I opened the refrigerator and grabbed the pack of fish.

Him jerking his head, averting his gaze, and pushing those adorable glasses up with one finger did nothing to camouflage his gaze.

I turned to the island, and Randall came up behind me to place a cutting board in front of me. I slapped the package of fish down and worked to open it.