Frostbite

by Deborah Bladon

  FIRST ORIGINAL EDITION, DECEMBER 2020

  Copyright © 2020 by Deborah Bladon

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 9798584897925

  eBook ISBN: 9781926440613

  Book & cover design by Wolf & Eagle Media

  www.deborahbladon.com

  Also by Deborah Bladon

  THE OBSESSED SERIES

  THE EXPOSED SERIES

  THE PULSE SERIES

  THE VAIN SERIES

  THE RUIN SERIES

  IMPULSE

  SOLO

  THE GONE SERIES

  FUSE

  THE TRACE SERIES

  CHANCE

  THE EMBER SERIES

  THE RISE SERIES

  HAZE

  SHIVER

  TORN

  THE HEAT SERIES

  RISK

  MELT

  THE TENSE DUET

  SWEAT

  TROUBLEMAKER

  WORTH

  HUSH

  BARE

  WISH

  SIN

  LACE

  THIRST

  COMPASS

  VERSUS

  RUTHLESS

  BLOOM

  RUSH

  CATCH

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Preview of Game Changer

  Thank you

  Deborah’s Mailing List

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Raelyn

  I steal a glance out of the window of the craft store. I can barely make out the cars and trucks crawling along the street, maneuvering their way through the snow falling over Manhattan.

  As I approach the checkout counter, I carefully place the green plastic shopping basket down.

  “Miss Raelyn Walsh, you’re back!” The gray-haired woman behind the counter exclaims with a clap of her hands.

  The bounce of her feet triggers a ring from the small silver bells pinned to the shoulder of her colorful sweater.

  I take in the picture knitted on the front. I can make out a cherub cheeked Santa with a pink nose and a reindeer behind him. A small Christmas tree dotted with colorful red, blue, and yellow yarn sits just above her waist.

  I don’t have to ask if she’s the craftsperson behind that wearable masterpiece. Knitting needles are always in her hands when she’s not helping a customer.

  “I need more balls,” I say, adding a wink to the words.

  She smiles. “If you keep talking like that, Santa will put you on his naughty list.”

  That’s debatable, but I do know that I must top the list of worst customers ever since this is the third time I’ve visited this store in a week, and I can’t remember this woman’s name.

  She knows mine because I paid with my credit card the first time I came in. I don’t have a reasonable excuse for forgetting hers.

  “Myrtle!”

  I don’t turn at the sound of the man’s voice calling out, but the woman standing behind the counter does. “I’ll be right with you, Toby. I’m just helping Raelyn.”

  Myrtle.

  I need to add that to my memory bank or the notes app on my phone. I know I’ll be back here in a day or two, and I want to be better prepared.

  Less than fifteen minutes ago, I raced out of the brownstone my sister and brother-in-law own so I could make it here before Myrtle closes the shop for the day.

  “Eleven and twelve.” Myrtle counts out the clear glass Christmas ornaments I’m buying. “Is that all, dear? Do you need more paint? A new brush or two?”

  I shake my head as I reach in the front pocket of my jeans for the money I shoved in there. “This is it for now. I can’t promise that I won’t be back tomorrow for more supplies.”

  She takes the bills I offer before she hands me back a ten. “You gave me too much. You get a discount for being a valued customer.”

  Myrtle is too sweet for her own good.

  I take the ten and slide it into the left pocket of my black wool pea coat. “I’ll use it to buy you a coffee tomorrow. How do you take it?”

  “With a grateful heart and a smile.” She beams. “One cream and one sugar. That’s it.”

  I type those details and her name into my phone as she wraps the ornaments in gold tissue paper before carefully placing them in a paper shopping bag.

  “I’m sorry I ran out of boxes.” She gazes around the cluttered shop. “I have another shipment arriving the day after tomorrow. You can manage this, can’t you? Your walk isn’t far?”

  “Two blocks.” I smile, reaching for the twine handles of the bag. “I’ll hold this close to keep my balls safe.”

  She laughs as expected. “For such a sweet-looking young woman, you’re moving higher up that naughty list.”

  I tuck a strand of my long blonde hair behind my ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Myrtle.”

  “Have fun tonight.” She raises a hand to wave. “Don’t slip on the snow on your way home.”

  I grin at the sound of the bells ringing on her shoulder. “I’ll be extra careful.”

  ***

  Large snowflakes hit my face the moment I step out of the shop. I glance to the right to see a woman dressed in a thin trench coat. Her umbrella is engaged in a futile battle with the wind. It’s pulled inside out by a sudden strong gust.

  She curses loud enough for half of Manhattan to hear before she shoves the now-ruined umbrella in a waste can next to a snow-covered bench. The curved handle sticks out, precariously teetering as she wanders off, trying to shield her face from the snow.

  I set off behind her with the bag close to my chest. I can’t risk someone dashing past in a rush and accidentally knocking me over. I need these ornaments to fulfill at least a few of my promised orders.

  Once I’ve had dinner with my sister, Dexie, and my brother-in-law, Rocco, I plan on settling into their guestroom for a long night of hand painting ornaments so I can get the bulk of them mailed out tomorrow.

  I tug the collar of my coat up, trying to shield my neck from the wind.

  I didn’t think to bring a scarf, gloves, or a knit cap since my sister’s townhouse is less than two blocks from the craft store.

  I knew snow was in the forecast, but I hoped that fate would be on my side, and I’d beat the storm.

  I watch as the woman who trashed her umbrella waves down a passing taxi. The driver narrowly misses hitting the delivery truck in front of him before he brings the car to a stop close to the curb.

  She yanks on the back door handle and slides in. The relief on her face is evident when she gazes out the window in my direction as the taxi’s driver turns his signal light on, hoping someone will let him in the bumper-to-bumper traffic that trails as far back as I can see. It’s not that far, given that the snow has now pic
ked up and visibility is down to less than half a block.

  I round the corner to Perry Street. I’m almost there. The change of direction should give me a reprieve from the snow.

  It should, but it doesn’t.

  The bitterly cold wind lashes the side of my face, so I bow my head to ward it off.

  I take a step and then another, cursing the fact that I didn’t follow my instinct and go to the craft store an hour ago. Instead, I wrote an email to my former boss wishing her well for the holidays and hoping that her New Year’s Eve wedding in Brazil is everything she wants it to be.

  My breath catches when the wind trails over my neck as it pushes my hair aside.

  A car horn startles me enough that I glance to my right to see what the fuss is about.

  Just as my gaze lands on a car sliding into the back of another, I run into what feels like a brick wall.

  The bag I’m cradling close to my chest smashes against me.

  Something warm sprays over my face, and I trip.

  Forward – right into the arms of a man.

  Chapter 2

  Raelyn

  “What the hell? You should watch where you’re going.”

  His voice draws my gaze up. I look into his blue eyes before I glance at his hair. It’s brown and mussed just enough from the wind to look stylish. Since he’s bundled a gray scarf around his face and throat, shielding everything from his nose down, I can’t see his expression.

  I shake the bag I’m holding to hear the unmistakable sound of shattered glass.

  Dammit.

  “You knocked my coffee right out of my hand,” he accuses.

  Great. Not only am I now holding a bag of broken ornaments, but my hair is going to freeze in place because this guy’s coffee landed all over me.

  I swipe my fingers over my forehead. “You ran into me.”

  He dusts his hand over the front of his gray wool coat, chasing away droplets of coffee. “No. You obviously weren’t paying attention.”

  What the hell is his problem?

  He looks into his now empty coffee cup and the plastic lid lying on the snow-covered sidewalk. “You’re lucky I bought this twenty minutes ago. Otherwise, you would have burned yourself.”

  Other than a sexy deep voice and a face that is at least half-handsome, this guy has nothing going for him.

  “You’re lucky,” I spit back, trying desperately to wipe droplets of coffee from my chin before they freeze. “I would have sued you if you burned me.”

  I wouldn’t have. Accidents happen.

  “Sued me?” The words are wrapped in a deep chuckle. “Listen, miss, you clearly weren’t looking straight ahead. If you were, this never would have happened.”

  “Where were you looking?” I drop a hand to my hip. “If you saw me coming, you would have moved out of my way.”

  He ponders that for a moment with the draw of his brows up. “What’s in the bag?”

  I drop my gaze to the bag, shaking it again, so he can hear the damage he’s done. “My balls.”

  Even though I can’t see it, I sense a smile has bloomed on his lips. “Your balls are in that bag?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “Or, yes. Christmas ornaments. I just bought them, and you broke them all.”

  “You broke them all,” he repeats my words. “Next time, watch where you’re going.”

  That’s it? No apology. No offer to replace the broken ornaments or money to cover the dry cleaning bill to get his coffee off of my coat.

  Snow whips around us.

  “I’m late,” he says gruffly. “You’re making me extra late.”

  I step aside. “By all means, leave.”

  His blue eyes hone in on my face. “Here’s a word of advice…”

  “Keep it to yourself,” I spit back with a raise of my hand in the air.

  “Next time, have your balls delivered.”

  I shake my head. I’m frustrated to the point that I don’t care what this guy thinks of me. “A gentleman would apologize for running into someone. He’d ask if they’re okay. And for the record, I am fine, but you ruined my work. I was going to paint those balls tonight, and you messed that up.”

  His eyes widen. “You paint balls?”

  Apparently, the word ‘balls’ is as amusing to him as it is to Myrtle.

  “I hand paint Christmas ornaments and sell them online,” I say before I realize it’s none of his business.

  He chuckles. “That’s quaint.”

  What a jerk.

  I hold onto those words because it’s the holiday season and good tidings to all, or maybe that only applies to kind and decent people. This guy appears to be neither.

  I count to ten under my breath and smile at him. “Standing in the middle of a snowstorm talking to you isn’t my idea of fun, so I’m leaving.”

  He tugs the scarf closer to his face. “We finally agree on something. I don’t find this entertaining either.”

  I let out a huff before I brush past him and start walking toward Dexie’s place.

  When I stop to glance over my shoulder, he’s watching me.

  I’m tempted to flip him the middle finger, but I don’t. I turn back around and leave the rude grump behind me.

  ***

  I try to sneak quietly into the townhouse, but the singing Christmas tree-shaped mat on the floor ruins that. As soon as my boot touches the corner of the mat, a chorus of Silent Night starts. I curse under my breath, knowing that the sound will lure my older sister into the foyer.

  It works like a charm.

  “Rae?” Dexie appears with her hair tucked into a braid. She smiles as she tugs the red apron around her waist higher.

  I point at her growing belly. “Your baby is going to be huge, Dex. I think it grew since I saw you this morning.”

  She lets out a sweet-sounding giggle as her hands circle her baby bump. “I’m plumping up. I had to take my wedding rings off today because they don’t fit. When you’re pregnant, you’ll look just like me.”

  I can’t argue with that. Even though we’re four years apart, we bear a striking resemblance to each other. We have the same color eyes and hair. Try as she might, Dexie has never convinced me to jump on the pink streaks in the hair bandwagon. It complements her personality perfectly, so it suits her.

  My hair is naturally blonde and a few inches longer than hers.

  My sister glances at the paper bag in my hand. “What did you get?”

  “Frustrated,” I huff. “I bought a dozen ornaments, but a man ran into me on the sidewalk and crushed the bag.”

  Concern fills her expression. “Did he knock you down? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” I tell her with a half-smile. “His coffee spilled on me, but it was lukewarm.”

  She brushes a hand over my chin. “You could have been hurt.”

  “I know, but I wasn’t,” I say to reassure her. “The ornaments didn’t come out of it in one piece though. The jerk who crashed into me didn’t even apologize.”

  She wraps an arm around my shoulder. “This is New York. You can’t expect anything from anyone.”

  I know she’s right. Even if the man I collided with wasn’t looking where he was going, it wasn’t all his fault. I was distracted too. Placing all the blame on him isn’t right.

  “I’m cooking dinner.” Dexie adjusts the collar of the cute pink blouse she’s wearing. “I made homemade chicken noodle soup, and those butter-topped buns that mom used to make when we were kids.”

  Our childhood wasn’t lacking for anything but a father. Our dad took off twenty-four years ago, right after I was born. Our mom saw to it that my sister and I were well taken care of. We weren’t spoiled, but we had enough food, clothes, and love to leave us with warm lasting memories.

  “I’ll go clean up, and then I can help,” I offer. “First, I should toss all of this broken glass in the trash.”

  Dexie shakes her head. “I’m sorry that guy ran into you. Was he hot at least?”

&
nbsp; I shrug. “He had a scarf wrapped around him. I only saw part of his face, so I can’t judge.”

  She smiles. “Judge what you did see. Hot or not?”

  “Hot,” I admit with a smile. “I’m basing that on his gorgeous blue eyes and brown hair.”

  “Sounds like me.” Rocco Jones, my sister’s husband, rounds the corner to the foyer. “Are you two talking behind my back again?”

  Dexie nuzzles into Rocco’s chest as he wraps both arms around her. “Never, my love. Raelyn met someone today.”

  Shaking my head, I can’t hold back a laugh. “I didn’t meet someone. He damn near knocked me over on the sidewalk. He spilled coffee all over me.”

  “Not exactly prince charming,” Rocco says. “Some men in this city could stand to learn a thing or two about how to treat a woman.”

  “You’d be the perfect teacher.” Dexie gazes up at him.

  I’m surprised red and pink hearts aren’t shooting out from her brown eyes. I’ve never seen anyone as in love as these two. I can only hope one day I find a relationship as solid as they have.

  “I’ll set the table.” Rocco presses his lips to my sister’s forehead. “If I haven’t said it lately, I’m glad you’re staying with us, Rae. Family means everything to us.”

  It means everything to me too, but New York City is a pit stop on my journey. Once the holidays are over, I’ll be off on my next adventure, wherever that may be.

  Chapter 3

  Raelyn

  A night spent watching sweet Christmas movies with my sister put me in a much better mood. By the time I crawled into the ridiculously comfortable king-sized bed in the guest room, I felt calm.

  To pay Dexie back for the delicious dinner last night, I made a batch of eggnog pancakes for breakfast. They are nonalcoholic, although I did add an extra sprinkle of nutmeg for flavor.

  There is little that is more intimidating than cooking for Dexie and Rocco. The reason is beautiful, kind, and lives across the street.