Page 11 of Frosty Mountain Man

“I watched a weather map for forty minutes this morning. That’s not entertainment. That,” I continued, “is what old men do.”

Harrison slowly closed his book and laid it on the table beside his chair. “Are you calling me old, Marsh?”

“No, not at all.” I shook my head, still smiling. To my delight, he stood up and walked toward me, not stopping until my back was against the bookcase. He’d stopped close enough that I had to tip my head back to keep looking at him. I realized I’d been doing that a lot. He was just so damn big. The question I refused to even think about was just how big he might be… everywhere. Of course, that thought made my whole body shudder.

This close I could see the fine threads of silver at his temples. The faint crinkles at the corner of his eyes. Nothing soft left in his face anywhere. I wasn’t sure it ever had been.

“I’ve got something we can do.” His voice was a low growl as he leaned his head closer.

My pulse did something stupid. Was he about to kiss me?

Just as I was about to grab the front of his flannel shirt and pull him close, he grabbed my hand. “Come on, little girl. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

He walked me to the front door instead of the bedroom, which disappointed me to say the least.

He bent down, grabbed a pair of boots, and lifted one of my feet. I had to grab his shoulder to keep from falling. “Can I ask what you’re up to?”

“We’re going outside. Let you run off some of that energy.”

Didn’t he know there was a better way for us to do that? “I’m not a golden retriever, Harrison.”

“Never said you were. Though the enthusiasm tracks.”

“Can I ask whose shoes I’ll be wearing?” I had a brief, unwelcome image of some long-legged woman who actually belonged on this mountain. Maybe belonged to him.

“My housekeeper’s.” He stuffed my other foot into a boot before glancing up. “She’s sixty-five and cleans for me once a week.”

“So you’re not really a solitary mountain man living on venison and heating your house with wood you chopped yourself.”

“I chop my own wood.” Another dozen naughty thoughts filled my now overstimulated brain with all the things I’d like to do to his wood.

He took a coat from the rack and held it out. I slipped my arms inside and realized it was his coat, unless his housekeeper was built like a linebacker. Plus, it smelled like him. As covertly as I could, I sniffed the collar.

Next came a hat, which he unceremoniously pulled down over my ears, and a pair of oversized gloves. I was all set, but I looked ridiculous as if I’d been dressed by an overeager toddler.

He put on a pair of black boots, grabbed another coat and opened the front door. He hauled me outside into a world gone entirely white. Snow was up past our ankles and still coming down in fat flakes, fast and furious. Cold slapped my face as soon as we stepped outside, almost stealing my breath. He started walking to the back yard like he was daring me to follow.

I followed.

And lost my breath again. I’d seen the view from a window in the living room, but in person, it was something else entirely — pines heavy under white, the whole clearing gone soft and silent. I turned my face up, catching a few snowflakes in my mouth. When I looked again, he was standing just a few feet away watching me.

“So, am I supposed to run around in circles, chasing my tail?”

“No, just be quiet for a moment.”

“Did you just tell me to shut up?” He didn’t answer. Which made me realize he wasn’t as unaware as he was letting on.

I stood there for a moment, letting the quiet seep inside. It had been a long time since I’d done that. My brain was always racing ahead, thinking of the next thing that needed to be done. Which was why, after just a moment, I opened my mouth again. “No, can’t do that. We’re supposed to be out here determining you’re not as old as you act.”

Before he could answer, I bent down and grabbed a handful of snow, mushing it into a ball and throwing it at him.

Miraculously, it hit him square in the chest. The expression on his face was a mix between astonishment and a warning.

And my body did things it shouldn’t have imagining him disciplining me for my bad behavior. After all, he had threatened to spank me earlier.

“Elle.” When he growled my name I knew I had to move.

He didn’t bother making a snowball. He just came at me, fast for a man his size, faster than I anticipated. I got half a dozen steps before his arms closed around me and we both went down. He twisted at the last second, taking the fall so I landed half on top of him instead of face-first in the snow.