Snowed In & Set Up

by Whitley Cox

  “Yeah, I think I’m going to go to bed, too,” Juney said with a yawn and brief glance at her watch. “Holy Hannah, how is it eleven o’clock?”

  “Good food, good company, and good booze makes time fly.” Hunter chuckled. She tilted her head at Austin, her hands still playing with the card deck. “You want to play cards?”

  His eyes flashed up at her. “Totally.”

  “I’m off to bed, too,” Will said, standing up and laughing at Austin’s enthusiasm.

  Rowan’s lip twisted wryly. “Me, too.” He stood up and clapped a hand on Austin’s shoulder. “Remember to wrap it up you two. No glove, no love.” And with an almost sinister snicker, he and Will took off behind the women toward the hallway full of bedrooms.

  Austin ground his molars together. Fucking Will, fucking Rowan.

  “I, uh . . . ” He let his gaze slowly drift up to Hunter’s sweet round face. “I . . . I’m sorry for him saying that.”

  Hunter laughed, her amber eyes glittering the color of warm honey. “Isn’t that why we’re all here? To hook up?”

  His eyes went wide. “I thought it was more than just that.”

  “Well, yeah, but ultimately we’re all meant to hook up at some point, find a spark, find our match.” She adjusted herself in her pile of pillows and blankets on the floor, tucking her long, tanned legs beneath her and pulling the big, brick-red cashmere throw over her knees. Once she appeared more comfortable, she began to deal out the cards. “Do you know any cool games? I figured we’d play Blackjack if nothing else sounded good.”

  He swallowed. “Blackjack is cool.”

  She dealt out the cards. Austin’s eyes fell to her fingers, his mouth opened slightly in awe as she continued to spin and slide and shuffle the cards like a professional dealer. She had such beautiful hands. Long slender fingers, beautiful narrow nails, trimmed perfectly with a pretty and understated French manicure, and a tiny little thin white gold band around her left pinky finger, just girly enough, but not too girly to scream high-maintenance or pretentiousness.

  “W—where’d you learn to shuffle like that?”

  Her smile was wide, and it made a dimple wink in her left cheek that he hadn’t noticed before. “When I backpacked across the country, I spent some time in Vegas. I wasn’t old enough to go into the casinos, but I hung out with some street magicians, and they taught me a few things. It’s more of a fidgeting thing, though. Keeps my hands and mind active. Plus, I used to be a nail biter. Cards helped me kick the habit.”

  Austin knew all about the need to fidget and be constantly moving. He had one of those fidget spinners at work, one in his truck and several scattered around his house. They helped him focus, kept his mind clear and his hands occupied.

  “So, tell me about yourself.” Her sexy voice startled him. He’d been so busy staring and fantasizing at her hands and the cards, he must have zoned out. His head snapped up to her face. An almost knowing smile passed across her plump lips, but she didn’t say anything to call him out. Instead she just continued on with the conversation.

  “We know you’re this super genius child prodigy who’s working with the environmental mastermind Reginald Caruthers. But what else? Besides that giant brain of yours, what else is there about you that’s interesting? What do you do for fun?”

  “Uh . . . ”

  She was incredible. Friendly and easygoing, sweet as could be, and she was giving him the time of day, asking him about himself and his interests, yet he couldn’t form a complete sentence in his giant genius brain to answer her.

  “Cat got your tongue?” She giggled.

  No, more like a gorgeous entrepreneur of the year who owns a sex toy and fetish company has rendered me speechless with how intimidatingly beautiful and so out of my league she is. It hadn’t taken long, just the rest of the afternoon and early evening, for Austin to come to the horrible realization that Hunter was beyond his grasp. The woman was virtually untouchable. He’d Googled her when he’d ducked back into his room briefly after lunch and found out she was not only a successful entrepreneur, but a millionaire to boot. Toss in the fact that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, owned a sex toy company, and the pictures on her Facebook page and Google images had her linked with some of Seattle’s most eligible and handsome bachelors, and he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. There was no way they were matched. Despite the fact that Will didn’t want kids, he would bet dollars to donuts Daisy’s algorithm had paired the hot, successful doctor with the hot, successful entrepreneur. Or maybe she was supposed to be with Rowan? They looked the part. Both blond and tanned, fit and happy, as if they’d just come in from catching that perfect wave off the coast of Big Sur. Beautiful people.

  She made a noise in her throat, and he snapped back to reality once again.

  Shit! What the hell did she ask?

  He shook his head. “I uh . . . no . . . I dunno. I don’t really have any hobbies. I work ALL THE TIME. Seven days a week, twelve hours a day. Sunup to sundown, I’m working.”

  Hunter nodded, the curled end of her ponytail bouncing and bobbing around her slender shoulder. “I hear ya. I work all the time too. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to say ‘fuck it all’ and take off with a backpack to go see the world. I’ve got all this money now, and I’ve never even left the continent. I want to travel.”

  Austin nodded his head fiercely. Well, at least they had one thing in common. “Right? I’ve never even been out of the country.”

  “Not even across the border?”

  He shook his head.

  “Wow! Yeah, you definitely need to travel.”

  “I have a postcard of Angkor Wat on my fridge,” he started. “When Daisy and Riley went a few years ago, they sent me a postcard. I started doing some research on the place and slowly became obsessed. So much history and tragedy. Each site tells its own story. I’d love to go one day.”

  She stared at him.

  He started to feel uneasy, as if he’d said something horribly wrong. A thick coat of sweat slicked his palms, his eyes darted around the room and his heart hammered in his chest.

  What did he say?

  “Did I say something wrong?” he finally asked, worried he’d somehow stuck his foot in his mouth or blacked out for a moment and said something heinously insensitive or politically incorrect. Given his current exhaustion level, anything was possible these days.

  She shook her head with what sounded like an almost nervous chuckle. “No, it’s just that, well, I have a postcard from Daisy and Riley on my fridge too. And it’s from Angkor Wat.”

  He let out a relieved sigh. “The one at sunrise?”

  She nodded. “I became infatuated with the place. Read up on it, watched documentaries. If I ever get the chance to travel, it’s the first place I’m going.”

  Holy shit!

  They had something in common. He worked his jaw back and forth to relieve the tension.

  “I’d love to go to Cambodia in general,” she went on, obviously feeling the sudden intensity of the moment and needing to make light of it.

  He was feeling the same way. Each and every moment he spent with her, Hunter was proving to be equal parts incredible as she was intimidating. Unobtainable, and yet he was drawn to her.

  “I mean the culture, the beaches, the history. Beautiful, humbling, and inspiring. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

  “Yeah,” he whispered, his eyes raking across the planes of her face. “Beautiful.”

  She licked her lips, her perfect little tongue running along the seam. Austin licked his own lips and swallowed. His Adam’s apple wobbled heavy in his throat as he stared at Hunter’s lips. Those beautiful, plump lips.

  And now they were wet.

  Was she trying to kill him?

  Silence ticked deafeningly loud around them, and a new tension filtered into the room. There wasn’t even the crackle and pop from the fire, as it had burned down to no more than orange glowing coals so
me time ago. The only real light in the room came from the enormous Christmas tree in front of the big picture window and its reflection.

  Hunter cleared her throat. “One day, maybe. One day I’ll make it to Cambodia.”

  Dread, fear, inferiority, incompetence. They all flooded him. He wanted to be matched with Hunter so badly, but the more he found out about her, the more he worried she was untouchable. The more he figured they couldn’t possibly be matched. She was so full of life. Had achieved so much, and what was he? A smart nerd with a photographic memory, seven Facebook friends and an ulcer in his stomach because he was under so much stress at work. What did he have to offer her?

  Reluctantly, he let his eyes drift away from her, and he shuffled toward the fire. “I should, uh . . . I should probably put this out so we can go to bed. Wouldn’t want to set Daisy’s family cabin on fire.”

  Hunter giggled. “No . . . no, we wouldn’t.” She went about putting the cards away and cleaning up the boxes of games. She took all the empty glasses to the sink and gave them a quick wash. She was drying her hands when Austin approached her from behind. She spun around full throttle to face him. They stood only a few feet apart. Austin’s eyes shifted upward, and Hunter’s gaze followed.

  More mistletoe!

  Where was it all coming from?

  A little smile clung to her lips. That Daisy was a crafty one. But her heart was in the right place. Her eyes fell back to Austin, and the look he was giving her mirrored the feelings that stirred deep and warm in her belly.

  Please kiss me. I like you.

  The light from the tree in the corner glowed in his eyes while the scruff on his chiseled chin and jaw screamed at her to run her tongue, her lips, her thighs over it. It took her breath away how handsome, how drop-dead sexy he was. And yet, he had absolutely no idea.

  Hunter couldn’t remember the last time she met a man as attractive as Austin who didn’t have any clue of his sex appeal. Who walked with slumped shoulders and no swagger to his gait. She’d dated a lot of Type-A alphas lately, and she was over them. Sure, they were commanding in the bedroom, but they were also controlling in the relationship, telling Hunter what to do, ordering her meals for her when they went out. If there was one thing Hunter hated more than anything, it was a control freak. In the bedroom was one thing, but she was her own goddamn boss once the bed was made and her clothes were back on.

  But Austin seemed different. She’d never dated a shy guy before. All her previous relationships had been with life-of-the-party show-boaters; a football player for the local team, Wes had been a linebacker and a pushy bugger. Then she briefly dated one of the outfielders for a minor league baseball team down in Oregon. She’d been around the block once or twice. But one thing all the guys so far had in common was they were all in your face, braggarts and party animals. Even the other two guys in the house seemed more “in your face” than Austin. Will, he knew he was good-looking, with his dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin and bright white teeth. The man was sex and confidence with an M.D. You could tell by the way he carried himself, there was a cockiness about Will. He was well aware of his looks and how damn fine they were. And Rowan, he was good-looking too, almost like a pretty boy with his surfer-boy blond hair and deep dimples. But he had a darkness about him that Hunter found slightly off-putting. He’d confided in everyone that he’d recently been slighted and overlooked at work and in a fit of rage quit on the spot. He still carried that anger, and it buzzed and fizzled around him like a red crackling ball of angry energy. The man needed to do some yoga.

  But she’d been through her fair share of arrogance and broodiness and was done with it. She wanted a change. She wanted wholesome. She’d never had wholesome growing up, so it had a certain appeal to it. Safety and security. And Austin not only screamed wholesome and safe, but the guy could be a model, an underwear or billboard model, wearing a three-piece suit or a flannel shirt and jeans with an ax in his hand or a Stetson on his head.

  Oh God, a Stetson!

  Austin swallowed again and nodded. “Well, goodnight, then.” He thrust his hand forward.

  A fucking handshake? Is this a joke?

  Hunter’s eyes went wide, and tears burned in the corners. He obviously wasn’t attracted to her the way she was him. Maybe he wanted to be matched with one of the other women. Juney was beautiful and so smart. Amber was sassy and feisty. An intellectual or a woman with a big family, and she was neither of those. Her heart crumbled.

  She stuck her hand out and took his. It was warm and callused, strong. She wanted that hand on more of her. She wanted him to pull her forward into his arms and crash his lips down onto hers. It didn’t matter that they’d just met. Attraction could be instant. This entire week had been designed to set them up with someone they were supposed to be compatible with. Daisy had put them all through a program. Her match was here. And she wanted it to be Austin.

  But he didn’t pull her forward and obliterate her doubt in his attraction. However, he didn’t let go of her hand either. Their eyes locked again, and a sizzle of electricity flew through him into her. A spark, almost like getting shocked when you scuff your feet across a carpet and then touch something metal. Heat flared in her abdomen, and a shudder slid down her back. Hunter’s chest tightened and suddenly, for no other reason than to relieve the strain, she wanted to take off her bra. She was big-chested, and carrying around Double-D’s all day got painful.

  The kitchen was dark, the house quiet. The only light came from the beautifully lit tree that stood tall and bedazzled behind them, a constant red, gold and green reminder of the holiday, of why they were all here. It was Christmas, and they were being given a shot at happiness, during a time of the year when miracles happened and love was dense and heady in the air.

  But Austin finally pulled his hand away and broke the spell. “Goodnight, Hunter.” He gave her a curt nod, his eyes focused somewhere around her knees, before taking off past her toward the bedrooms, leaving her standing there winded and crestfallen in the dark kitchen.

  Several minutes later, after quickly visiting the bathroom to wash away the day, Hunter pulled the duvet up to her chin and rolled over onto her side facing the door. She could have sworn she heard someone outside in the hallway. A creak in the floorboards, followed by a moving shadow beneath the door, but it was probably someone up to get a glass of water. She let out a melancholy sigh and closed her eyes.

  Boy, had she been wrong. She couldn’t remember a time when she read the signs with a guy so incorrectly. The way he looked at her. The way he’d inched his chair closer to hers. He jumped at the chance to hang out and play cards after everyone else had gone to bed. They were both young and successful, desperate to travel and see the world. Had the entire attraction been all in her head? Was she matched with anyone here? Or was she destined to be alone for Christmas? For the rest of her life? A lone tear trickled out of her eye and onto the pillow as she clutched the covers tight and begged sleep to take her. Wished for the week to be over before it even really began.

  “Fucking moron,” Austin muttered under his breath as he closed his bedroom door and his back collapsed against it. “Fucking moron.” What the fuck had he done? Did she want him to kiss her? She did, didn’t she? He wasn’t exactly an expert in reading the signs when it came to women, but it didn’t take a genius to pick up on the vibe he was getting from Hunter.

  She wanted him.

  Hell, she’d been talking about “hookups” from the get-go. Instead, the night had ended with a handshake.

  A fucking handshake.

  He could sense her hurt the moment her hand had clasped his. Defeat, nearly as strong as his own, pulsed through her into him. But there wasn’t anything he could do. He had nothing to offer her . . . nothing worthy of her, anyway.

  Fucking moron.

  Pacing the length of his room, he ran his hands across his face and up into his hair, pulling on the ends until his scalp ached, punishing himself for his stupidity. She wanted him, and he
blew it.

  In a fit of rage at no one but himself, he flung the door open and stalked down the dimly lit hallway toward her room. The light was on, he could tell from the crack beneath the door, and he heard her shuffling around inside. She was probably getting ready for bed. He lifted his fist to knock; he was going to kiss her. She wanted it. Hell, he wanted to kiss her within the first five minutes of meeting her.

  He was going to kiss her.

  He was going to push her into her room and see where the night went. However far she wanted it to go, he’d go, willingly. Even if in the light of day, she realized he was just this huge, inexperienced disappointment.

  But then the light from under the door flicked off, and he heard her bed squeak. His fist fell to his side in defeat, more like surrender, and he gnashed his molars together until his jaw hurt. Letting out a shaky sigh that rattled through his bones and made his stomach churn in adrenaline-fueled fury, he spun on his heel and headed back to his room.

  Fucking moron.

  Chapter Four

  Rowan paced back and forth in his room, the signed copy of his Envious Souls book in his hand. She’d signed it! He’d met J.J. Davidson. Hell, he was staying in a log cabin with her for an entire week. The author Rowan thought was a he, wasn’t a he at all. He was a SHE! A gorgeous she. A funny she. A single she. And she could cook!

  Well, Daisy, you weird little Canadian, you may have just found me my dream woman.

  “But what now?” he muttered.

  Were they matched? They had to be. Will and Amber were two childless peas in a pod. Hunter and Austin . . . fuck, those two better be fucking by now, the way the pheromones were bouncing off the walls between them earlier. They were probably rolling around naked on the rug in front of the fire at this very moment.