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JO
The frigid airblew down the hallway from the front of the house, mixing with the humid scent of onions and oregano in the kitchen.
“Damn, it’s cold out there.” I heard Lucas stomp his boots by the door.
I looked outside to see snow falling fast in big fat flakes. A coat of white covered the grass and patio. When did that happen? Snow had been forecasted, and my mom even called today to say Daddy saw it on the national news. I played it down. It was March first. Clearly, I should have listened to the warnings.
“Hey, it’s me.” Lucas strolled into the house, brushing his damp hair back with his fingers. He hit the switch for the gas fireplace on the back wall of the large open space that included a sofa area, a dining area, and the kitchen. The flames sprang to life and licked the logs with a warm orange glow.
“I didn’t know if you would still be here.” He lifted the lid on the steaming pot of Tuscan white bean soup. “Damn, baby, that smells good.”
My head snapped up. “What did you say?”
He looked at me, startled. “I said that smells good. Are you okay?”
Great, now I was hallucinating. “Yeah. Thanks. There’s plenty. I’ll leave you some. Let me finish this and get out of your way. How are the roads?”
“You want the good news or the other news?”
Oh, no. “Tell me.”
“The good news, we have heat, food, and entertainment.” He pointed to the TV. “The other news, the roads are bad. I left my car at the farm. Finn drove me in his truck until the big hill. Even he didn’t want to risk that sharp turn halfway up.” I knew the one. “I can’t believe how quickly the temperature dropped. The drizzle last night is a sheet of ice under the snow.”
I didn’t have much experience driving in snow. It never snowed in San Jose, and though Nashville usually had one good snow a year, no one dared drive in it. Driving in Nashville already had challenges. Add snow, and that was a recipe for disaster. If I tried to drive home today, there was a decent chance I would hit that turn and slide off the road, possibly off the cliff, and onto a house below.
“I can hear you thinking. Jo, there is no reason to chance it.”
Stay with Lucas? I was already losing my grip on reality. Staying here with him would make it worse.
He wasn’t an entitled tech-bro. When we cooked, he was serious, and interested. He got better looking every day, somehow, and he smelled incredible. When he touched my arm to let me know he was moving around me in the dance of cooking together, the spot continued to tingle seconds later. What would it feel like to have more of his skin on mine? Those thoughts took up a lot of space in my brain these days.
No. “This island cannot just shut down with an inch of snow, Lucas,” I said as my heartbeat thrummed.
“Sure, it can. This island can do whatever it wants. The only plow and sand trucks this side of the bridge are part of the emergency response team. You spending the night in a warm house with plenty of supplies will not constitute an emergency rescue.”
The wordsspending the nightrolled off his inviting lips in a sultry way. Or at least in my head they did. I blinked. Was he kidding? All calm andthis-is-no-big-deal. This was a big deal. My phone rang in my pocket, and I sighed at my struggle to get it out. The Elliot.
“Hey Miles, what’s up?”
“Hey Jo. I wanted to let you know that the Ramirez quinceañera was postponed until next weekend. Her abuela doesn’t want any off-island relatives to chance the bridge. I took you off the crew for tomorrow. Will you be safe hunkered down for a couple of days?”
I looked around the room, past the overstuffed sofa and the blazing gas logs to the large windows in the back framing the falling snow against the gray water and evergreens of the next island. Peaceful, but I’m not sure it was safe. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for calling.”
Lucas stirred the soup and inhaled. I wasn’t sure what effect playing house with him would have on my ability to ignore that flutter in my belly when he looked at me with his steel-blue eyes. Nothing to do but get through it.
“I need pajamas, shampoo, a toothbrush.”
He stepped away from the stove. “I have those things. Some of Emily’s stuff is still here, too. We’ll find something for you to wear.”
Ha. Right. “Lucas, Emily won’t have clothes that fit me.”
“Okay, I’m sure I do. And I have a washing machine. It’s not worth the risk. The ground is warm, and the snow will probably melt enough to clear the roads by tomorrow afternoon. It’s barely twenty-four hours.” He rested his hand over mine on the counter. The stone was cold to my palm compared to Lucas’s heat. “I’d feel better if you stayed,” he said.
His words washed over me, and I swallowed. He noticed. His eyes roved my neck and shoulders before returning to my face. His hand was still covering mine.
I nodded. “Thanks.”
The snow continued to fall for the rest of the afternoon. They had predicted two to three inches, but there were already three on the ground, and it didn’t show signs of slowing. Lucas sat on the sofa with his laptop while I finished the soup and checked on the country bread I threw together, rising in a bowl near the stove. If I was going to be here for a while, I would take advantage of the well-equipped kitchen.
