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After climbing out of bed, he took a quick shower. With still no sign of his temporary roommate, he opened the door to venture out. Halfway down the stairs he heard laughter and paused.
He still hadn’t moved when Naomi walked by the stairs, pausing when she spied him.
“Good morning, Mr. Anderson. I hope you slept well.”
He descended the remaining stairs. “I did, thank you. Have you seen Hope?”
She nodded. “She’s in the main room with the other singles, playing some games. Would you like to join them?”
His insides turned to ice. “No, thanks. I should get ready to go.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson. It still hasn’t stopped snowing. Roads are shut down. We’re all here for a while. Are you sure you don’t want to join the mixer?”
He’d rather have red hot pokers shoved in his eyes. From the way she smoothed her hands down her apron, he realized his expression relayed that very thought.
“Very good, sir. I will bring some food to your room.” She walked off, leaving him alone.
How he wanted to be.
Right?
Despite everything inside him telling him to go back up to the sanctuary of the room, he drifted to the entryway of the main space. Mitchell took a deep breath and scanned the room.
Gaze on Hope, he clenched a hand on the corner of the wall he stood beside. She wore her own clothing, curly hair gathered atop her head. The bun it had been in last night when he found her must have been painful to eliminate all signs of those curls.
Personally, he liked her in his clothing.
Mitchell shook his head. What is wrong with me? Why does it matter whose clothing she wears?
Something stirred when she and the other people near her burst into merry laughter. She fit. Even though she didn’t look like anyone there. No, his Flykra, his snowflake, was definitely one of a kind. He watched as she played cards with another man, all the while carrying on the conversation with more than the man she gamed against.
He narrowed his eyes as the guy she played with slapped the pile between them, making her jump and give a small squeal. Then she dissolved into a fit of laughter.
Unlike his ex, who used to titter in a manner to make herself appear flirty and attractive, Hope laughed because she was amused and entertained. Her entire body moved as her husky voice rolled over him like a wave. It hit him, knocked him over, then the undertow pulled on him, trying—and succeeding—to drag him into depths he wasn’t ready for. Closer to her.
And he couldn’t.
Shouldn’t.
Wouldn’t.
Mitchell stalked back up to his room. After staring out the window at the blinding wall of white, he turned on his computer.
Once his food was delivered, he set his phone beside him. Crunching a piece of toast, he sent a text. He swallowed the toast and reached for his coffee when the phone rang.
He swiped accept.
“Hey.” He took a drink.
“Where are you?” Tully’s voice reached him.
“You okay? How did the vacation go?” Linc posed the next question.
“I’ve been better.” He didn’t lie to these guys. They had no secrets. “Right now, I’m stuck at The Thrush & the Clover…” He swallowed more of the coffee, wincing at the burn. “Which happens to be hosting a singles mixer.”
“Why are you talking to us? Go mingle. You’re single again.” Linc was so matter of fact.
He snorted. “The last thing I need is another woman.”
Damn it to hell, Hope’s soft features were as vivid as if she were in the room with him. Those big dark eyes watching him with trust. Admiration.
He squeezed his eyes shut as soon as that gaze in his imagination turned heated with desire. He was officially losing it. He barely knew the woman.
“Singles can mean males too.”
“I’m not gay, Tully. But scarred is a thing. I need to get me right.” And after having met Hope, he didn’t feel that would be such a struggle.
“We’d love you either way.”
He knew that.
“So what are you doing then? Tell us you’re not hiding out in your room. This storm is huge and it’s stalled over us.” Linc sounded worried. “Roads aren’t going to be open for a while and chances are power will also be going out. I’ve set up the center to take any unhoused people who will need shelter. What about you?”
He loved that about Linc. The man had a heart of gold. “I’m working in my room. Putting in some hours on the new game.”
“That’s good, right, Linc?” Tully sounded concerned.
“Sure,” his friend said. They both had the same amount of anxiety in their voices.
Mitchell sighed and leaned forward. Time to come clean. It’s like his friends knew he was holding something back. “I’m not here alone.”
Dead silence.
He waited, sure they wouldn’t disappoint. “The fuck? Who’s with you?” Tully.
