by Anthology
“This isn’t awkward at all.”
“No, not at all. I just love learning this much about my boss’s sex life.”
Dead silence.
Shelly started to laugh. Mike didn’t join her.
“Um,” he finally said, “just don’t look in the closet.”
“Which one?”
“The one to the right of the fireplace.”
Oh. The one Jamie was opening the door to right now.
A low whistle filled the room.
“Too late,” Shelly whispered into the phone. “Jamie’s just found it.”
“I’m either terminating my contract with him or doubling his rate,” Mike muttered. “And adding a confidentiality clause to our agreement.”
“Is this all part of the rental fee?” Jamie called out. “Because if so, this is all deductible. Even the—sweet Jesus, what is that thing?” His tall head disappeared into the closet, one arm braced on the door’s threshold, the other rummaging around.
Shelly held back a snicker. Maybe this was funny after all.
“Look. Explore. Check it all out. Just don’t use anything, okay?” Mike groused.
Shelly gave the gliding ottoman thing the hairy eyeball. “No worries.”
“But let’s also have a gentleman’s—gentlewoman’s—agreement that we will pretend this never happened.”
Mike’s words sent a tendril of cold down her spine. Those had been Jamie’s exact words after their kiss in his office two months ago.
Let’s pretend this never happened.
Her eyes jumped to the window. The snow was flying sideways. She was trapped. She and Jamie were stuck here until the plows could get through. Which would be… ?
“What’s the weather prediction now?” she asked Mike. “Internet is out here, and I assume Jamie and I can’t get cell signals, either.”
“Yeah, I know. Hazard of wanting privacy. That’s why we have the landline. You also have a radio signal, and the cabin runs on solar energy with battery banks that give you enough power for three days. So you’re covered for the basics. Hang on.” A few seconds later, Mike added, “You’re looking at getting twelve to fourteen inches tonight.”
That’s what she said.
“Maybe as little as ten.”
Little?
“But there’s no way you two can leave that cabin before morning.”
Chapter Seven
Jamie emerged from the Closet of Doom as white as a sheet.
“There is an entire world of sexuality that I did not know existed. It’s like discovering an alien civilization. I—I—wow.” Jamie’s eyes caught hers. He looked a bit terrified.
She started to laugh.
He held up his hands, palms facing her in defense. “Don’t blame me if you look in there. What has been seen cannot be unseen. I think I’ll have nightmares for weeks.”
If by ‘nightmares’ you mean ‘wet dreams,’ then yes.
He gaped at her.
Oh. Did she say that aloud? It was hard to tell from the look on his face.
“Are you that kinky?” he asked, pointing at the closet. There was no judgment in the question.
I’m a virgin, she wanted to admit. This time, she actually bit her lips to make sure the words didn’t come out unbidden. What twenty one year old was a virgin these days? The Duggar girls, right? That was pretty much it.
She locked eyes with him, their faces pink with embarrassment (or arousal? maybe both), their grins sheepish.
“What did Mike say about the weather?”
“Twelve to fourteen inches,” she said.
“That’s what she said,” he mumbled out of the side of his mouth.
God damn it. She fell in love with him a little bit more right then.
“I guess we’re stuck,” he said, plopping down on the sofa and stretching his arms up, then across the back of the couch. He smiled at her. “Might as well make the best of it.”
How romantic. He really knew how to woo a woman.
Shelly pointedly avoided him as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine out of the fridge. Barely twenty-one, she wasn’t used to the freedom to grab alcohol at will, but if there was ever a time to drown her sorrows in a few glasses of Pinot Grigio, it was now.
“You legal?”
“Excuse me?” she growled, turning toward the sound as she slammed drawers open and closed, searching for a corkscrew.
“Are you twenty-one?”
“Yes. And even if I weren’t, why in the hell shouldn’t I drink a glass of wine or ten when I’m trapped with a guy who wants nothing to do with me?”
Jamie’s head snapped back like she’d slapped him. Good. Good. Let someone else have an emotion here.
“Nothing to do with… you think that?” His voice cracked halfway through the sentence, eyes narrowing. “You think I don’t spend every day wondering how you are? Replaying that kiss in my office at the college? Wishing I’d been less foolish and more brave?”
“Then why didn’t you find me?” Her words shook like her hands. Finally, she found the bottle opener, but it clattered to the floor, useless. Jamie shot across the room, picked it up, and grabbed the wine from her. In seconds, the cork popped, he poured two glasses, and drank half of his.
Her mind buzzed like high tension electric lines filled her head.
“Why did you run away?”
“You told me,” she said savagely, caution blown away on the wind. “You told me to pretend the kiss never happened! What the hell was I supposed to think, Jamie? I don’t know how this all works!” She took a sip of wine, the dryness making her throat tighten.
He set down his glass. Her blood pumped through her like the pneumatic push of the ski lift, like a gear wheel inside that just kept going, the force needed to make everything work a little greater than usual.
And then his hands were on her hips, his lips next to her ear, and he whispered, “I’m sorry I didn’t find you. When people leave me I assume they want to be left alone. I didn’t want to chase you down and push you. I was trying to be respectful. Instead, I screwed up.”
In the steady breath she let out, Shelly could feel some part of her change. It was as if the never-ending jangling of bells inside her came to a stillness. A sudden, blessed silence within.
The quiet gave her the chance to taste him as his lips met hers. To feel each strand of his thick locks as her fingers buried themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. To stretch her calves and thighs as she stood on tiptoe to meet him, square on, as an equal. As her lips parted and their tongues met she felt a taming of the fire within. From quick flame that burned bright and fast to a more enduring heat, her heart and mouth and hands settled in for the long haul.
And Jamie was right there, urgent hands touching her with a want that no one could ever pretend wasn’t there.
He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “Do you want to be alone?” he asked, finger reaching up to pull gently on her lip.
“No.”
“Good. Because you don’t really have a choice,” he said as a huge gust of wind shook the windows.
“Even if I did, Jamie,” she said, eyes unwavering, “I wouldn’t want to be alone.”
The next kiss was deeper, holding questions Shelly couldn’t answer. The stillness inside her swelled with an eagerness and a blind confusion that made terror emerge as his palms flirted with her breasts, his hands doing what came naturally. What came next.
Next.
A cold panic descended, the ever-present buzzing refilling her like a tidal wave, and she broke away.
Panting, she simply said, “I can’t.”
“Wait,” he said, panting right with her in the same inbreath, the same outbreath. There with her. Present. “If I… if I cross a line, just tell me. Tell me. Don’t hide. Don’t run away. I can’t fix something that isn’t there. I can’t make amends if you leave.”
Desperation tinged his voice, a kind of kinship emerging from his tone. She knew that fee
ling.
“You said you can’t, Shelly,” he asked, eyes gentle and curious. “What can you do? What can we do? Let’s start there.” He swallowed and picked up his glass of wine, taking a sip. “You lead.”
“I can’t pretend this never happened,” she said simply.
He winced. “I’ll regret that statement for the rest of my life.” Another sip. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do.”
He was right. She didn’t know he was sorry. Not in the marrow of her bones. I’m sorry was something people said to get you to shut up. To make you stop asserting yourself. To make their transgressions go away.
Shelly picked up her glass and walked over to the couch. She sat down and turned, looking at him.
“How about we start right here. I’ll start by staying.”
“And I’ll start by following you.”
Chapter Eight
Shelly’s eyes slowly opened to find herself blinded by nothing but white snow, blonde hair, and the face of a man in repose, breathing softly and slowly, so kind and sweet her heart felt like it might melt into the sheets.
She was fully clothed, as was Jamie, under the thick down comforter and wool blankets on the bed. A quick look at the wood stove told her why the air was so cold. A glance down at the arms snuggled around her, the push of a muscled body nestled against her behind told her why she was so warm.
A smile spread across her face, completely unbidden. Tears began to fill in her eyes.
He sighed behind her, the sound turning into a groaning yawn. Jamie’s chin burrowed in her shoulder, his hands tightening around her waist.
His body went on and on and on under the blankets, her stockinged feet sliding against his shins, tentative and exploratory. With his arms around her, she was encased from behind by his chest. She didn’t need blankets. His body itself was the equivalent.
A sweet kiss landed on her neck. “Good morning,” he whispered in her ear. They’d spent hours talking, staying up late and finishing one bottle of wine. In agreement, they’d not opened the second. Shelly wanted no regrets, and Jamie did, in fact, follow her lead.
Both had studiously avoided any further exploration of the cabin for fear of what they might find. The gliding ottoman and sex swing were carefully placed in the Closet of Doom by Jamie, who had bravely taken on that task.
“It is,” she agreed, rooted in place. How did this work? Should she turn over and kiss him? What if her breath smelled like dead hedgehogs? How did people wake up in the morning and navigate this interaction? She was lost. No one had a how-to guide for what to do when you don’t have sex with your crush but wake up in their arms the next morning anyhow.
“C’mere,” he whispered, giving her a hook. She turned over and he gave her a chaste kiss, brushing her ragged hair off her face. “Coffee?”
“Sounds marvelous.”
The storm was over, the ground outside covered with what looked to be a solid foot of snow. It had raged on through the night but now seemed placid. Peaceful.
Centered.
The snow had created obstacles that needed to be dealt with. Shovels and plows, salt and sand were the tools for carving out paths and roadways so that life could go on. The snow would come every winter in this Massachusetts town, and no one wanted it to disappear. It was just there, ever present, cyclical and seasonal.
Like feelings.
Shelly’s tears pooled in her eyes, quick to come whenever she felt happiness. Like the snowstorms, her emotions would storm and rage at times, coming unexpectedly and leaving a mess in their wake. The right tools—and at that thought, her eyes alighted on Jamie, who now spooned coffee grounds into a basket filter as he prepared a pot of morning java—patience, and the realization that without the snow, there can be no spring or summer, no birdsong or sunny days at the beach, no time to hibernate and emerge reborn were all part of life.
Jamie’s thick, warm hands encircled her waist as she stared out the window, his body hard against her back. She leaned into him, melting. Thawing. Sighing.
“I’m glad you didn’t run,” he murmured in her ear.
“I couldn’t,” she laughed, looking at his car, buried under the thick powder.
“Then I should thank the snow,” he said.
“Me, too,” she whispered as she turned and stood on tiptoe again, reaching up for a kiss.
Author’s Note - Julia Kent
Author’s Note: You’ve just finished reading This Never Happened, a short story by Julia Kent.
If you’d like to spend more time at the ski resort, consider reading Her Billionaires: Boxed Set, the New York Times bestselling contemporary romance series featuring Shelly’s boss, Mike in his unconventional romance with Laura and Dylan.
Her Billionaires: Boxed Set on Amazon
Other titles by Julia Kent
Before Her Billionaires
Her First Billionaire—FREE
Her Second Billionaire
Her Two Billionaires
Her Two Billionaires and a Baby
Her Billionaires: Boxed Set
Complete Abandon (A Her Billionaires novella)
Complete Harmony (A Her Billionaires novella #2)
Complete Bliss (A Her Billionaires novella #3)
Complete We (A Her Billionaires novella #4)
Random Acts of Crazy
Random Acts of Trust
Random Acts of Fantasy
Random Acts of Hope
Shopping for a Billionaire 1
Shopping for a Billionaire 2
Shopping for a Billionaire 3
Shopping for a Billionaire 4
Christmas Shopping for a Billionaire
Shopping for a Billionaire Boxed Set (Parts 1-5)
Shopping for a Billionaire’s Fiancee
Website: www.jkentauthor.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/jkentauthor
Text JKentBooks to 77948 and get a text message on release dates!
Join the newsletter at: Julia Kent’s Newsletter!
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent turned to writing contemporary romance after deciding that life is too short not to have fun. She writes romantic comedy with an edge, and new adult books that push contemporary boundaries. From billionaires to BBWs to rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every book she writes, but unlike Trevor from Random Acts of Crazy, she has never kissed a chicken.
She loves to hear from her readers by email at [email protected], on Twitter @jkentauthor, and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/jkentauthor.
Julia Kent
www.jkentauthor.com
Snow Kissed
A Three Girls Short Story
Rachel Schurig
Too-shy-for-her-own-good Bella is ready to take control of her love life—and Scott seems like just the guy to help her do it!
DESCRIPTION: Isabella Barker is fed up. Tired of being the inexperienced, lonely outsider, too focused on med school applications to figure out her social life, she decides that this is the weekend everything is going to change.
A working vacation at a luxurious ski resort is the perfect setting. And Scott, the sexy waiter she’s been flirting with all week, is the perfect prescription to cure what ails her.
But just as quickly as her plan finally comes together, it starts to fall apart. From a wardrobe malfunction, to spilling water all over Scott, to an unfortunate figure skating incident, this date is far from perfect. One thing is for sure—Bella should have never taken dating advice from her cousin Kiki.
Maybe Bella isn’t as ready to take control of her life as she thought.
… Or maybe Scott might be exactly what she’s looking for.
GENRE: Snow Kissed is a Romantic Comedy short story at 10,000 words or approximately 40 pages. This is a standalone story with a happy ending. Snow Kissed takes place in the world of Rachel Schurig’s best selling Three Girls series, but c
an be enjoyed on its own. Fans of the Three Girls will enjoy catching up with Ginny, Jen, Annie, and Kiki!
Turn the page to begin reading Snow Kissed by Rachel Schurig, or click here to return to this anthology’s Table of Contents.
Snow Kissed
Rachel Schurig
Chapter One
After deep thought and much consideration, I had decided that I’d had enough. No more messing around. This was the weekend that I was finally, finally going to lose my virginity.
I hadn’t exactly worked out all the details yet, but I was determined. I’d spent more than enough time being the token innocent one, the friend with no experiences to share over giggly, girly conversation. I’d been sitting on the outside looking in for years now, ever since Janet Mekelson had turned in her V-card to Aidan Kline sophomore year. It had been creeping up on me over the last few years, that “missing out” feeling growing stronger and more bothersome the older I got.
And, to be totally blunt, I was tired of being lonely. At twenty-three years old, I was finally ready to take some control of my life.
I’d even picked out the perfect guy to help me take that step. Scott. Gorgeous, perfect, sexy Scott.
Of course, he didn’t know that I’d picked him for the honor. In fact, he didn’t even know my name. Our shared conversation had consisted of maybe a dozen words. But I wasn’t going to let a little detail like that stop me.
A movement across the restaurant caught my eye and I sat up a little straighter in my seat. There he was, balancing a mass of drinks on his tray as he made his way out of the kitchen. I deflated a little when I realized there weren’t nearly enough glasses for us. He was going to serve another table. I cheered myself up by watching as he bent over that other table to pass out the beverages. You would think a waiter’s uniform wouldn’t help to highlight a man’s assets, but on Scott, even plain black dress slacks and a white button down looked mouthwatering.
“Oh my God,” Elaine muttered next to me. “Could you be any more obvious?”
“Shh,” I hissed, glancing quickly around the table to make sure that no one else had heard her. The last thing I needed was for any of the girls—my employers, for all intents and purposes—to catch on that I was crushing on a waiter when I was supposed to be watching their kids.