Page 22 of Snow Globe Secrets

I caught the moment he first saw it. Without taking his eyes off the view, he put the phone down, picked up his mug of coffee, and moved toward the large window.

“Wow, Randall. This place really is amazing.”

“Yeah, the view was one of the factors that sold me on it.”

“Only one?”

I focused intently on my half-eaten plate. I could talk about the layout, or the two-and-a-half car garage, the stone fireplace, or the well-appointed outdoor area, with its own kitchen, TV, and fireplace. But for some reason, I went with the truth.

“I love how remote it is. There are a few other cabins down that main road we took last night, but all of them have long winding driveways like mine, and all of them are surrounded by trees or views like that one.”

He kept his back to me, looking out the window. My spine tingled, watching him from behind.

“After all those years of living with that flashy asshole in the photos, I can imagine you’d want some time to yourself.”

“I can do my job from anywhere, really. I need to visit the offices in New York or Boston occasionally, and it’s a bit of a trek. But I plan it out, try to schedule all my meetings at once. And honestly, none of them really require me to be there in person, but I humor the bosses every now and then.”

There, hopefully I’d steered the conversation away from my propensity to be alone. He was the type of guy I wanted to tell things to, whether he was asleep or awake, and it just wasn’t appropriate.

Chapter Eleven

Austin

I could get through a few snowy days, right?

I’d keep busy while the weather was clear, puttering around outside, and maybe, if he was anything like my mom, he’d end up working all day, much as he’d told me he wouldn’t. Then, we’d have one day under our belts without me trying to jump his bones, because much as there were many arguments in favor of whiling away the time doing each other … favors, the reality was it was a very bad idea.

I’d just have to stay as far away from him as this amazing, beautiful, romantic cabin, with the breathtaking views, and minimal doors, would let me.

That’s what I’d been thinking about, staring out at the vista in front of me, but then he had to go and share with me again, about his desire to be alone.

He’d ignored me calling his ex-husband an asshole and tried to talk about work instead, but I wanted to know more.

“I’m guessing there’s at least some fun to be had up here during tourist season. A resort lodge or favorite bar. I bet the apps are hopping.”

“The apps?”

“Yeah, you know, Guys4Guys or …”

“Oh, I don’t … use those.”

He’d said I don’t use those, but what I heard was, I don’t do that. And to each his own—I wasn’t much of a hookup guy myself—but it did seem a lonely existence, and it made me glad my persistent mother had tracked him down, and that my parents had made an excuse for him to join us for Christmas.

“Well, if you ever decide you want to make a profile, I am happy to consult on that.”

Randall fumbled the mug in his hand, and I thought about what I’d said. I was pretty sure we were both picturing the same thing, me helping him take intimate photos to be used on a hookup site. Fuck, I was flirting with him even when I tried not to. Time to dig myself out of a hole, and the best way to do that was to put distance between us.

I cleared my throat and took a sip of my coffee. He did the same, and for a moment, from across the room, it felt like there was an electric charge between us. Even at that distance, I thought I could feel his heat. I forced myself not to think of it as desire, his or mine. Yeah, it was time to get out of there. I cleared my damn throat again to make sure my voice didn’t come out sounding like a gravely Darth Vadar. “I’ll go out and work on the firewood.” I think I may have failed at that a little, my voice sounding more like a naughty invitation than the proclamation of a household chore. I definitely needed to get out of the one-room cabin.

I hightailed it to the bathroom to wash up from breakfast, walking past Randall as he cleaned up the kitchen to collect my things from the laundry room.

“I’ll just take my stuff upstairs, then,” I started as I came out of the room, but Randall wasn’t in the kitchen any longer.

“Up here.” He leaned over the balcony.

“Oh, hey. I’m up there, right?” I pointed up the stairs I stood in front of.

“Right.”