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I leaned back in the chair. “You do realize you can’t settle every disagreement by saying no.”

“It’s worked so far.”

“That might be why you live alone.”

This time I got the smile. It was small and gone almost immediately, but I saw it. And because apparently, I had learned nothing from the past six months about recognizing dangerous situations and walking away from them, I wanted to see it again.

Outside, the storm kept building. The lights flickered once more, though the generator kept them from going out.

I pulled Cole’s sweatshirt tighter around me. My customer orders were safe in his mudroom. The roads were impassable. My SUV was slowly turning into an ice sculpture in his driveway. And I was stranded for the night with a man who had spent most of the afternoon irritating me, feeding me, keeping me warm, and catching me before I fell.

I’d survived a broken engagement, moving home, and taking over a business I hadn’t planned on owning. Surely, I could survive one night with Cole Maddox.

CHAPTER 4

COLE

She looked too damn good in my sweatshirt. The sleeves hung past her wrists, and every few minutes she pushed them up only to have them slide down again. I kept noticing. I needed to stop noticing.

I carried our bowls to the sink.

“You cooked. I can clean up,” she said.

“I’ve got it.”

“You’ve got everything.”

“It’s two bowls.”

“And a pot.”

I faced the sink before she caught me smiling. Most people knew when I was done talking. Emmy treated that as a challenge.

She carried her glass over anyway. I took it from her.

“You know I can put a glass in the sink.”

“I know.”

“But you’re doing it for me.”

“Apparently.”

She smiled. “I’m wearing you down.”

“You’ve been here three hours.”

“And look how far we’ve come.”

Having her in my house didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. That was a problem. I’d built my life around not needing much from anyone. I had people in town I trusted. I just didn’t need them in my space.

Emmy had been here one afternoon and already had her coat on a hook next to mine, four boxes in my mudroom, and her phone charging on my counter. And she was wearing my sweatshirt. That was the part I kept noticing.

My phone buzzed. Jace.

“Yeah.”

“Road’s closed by the Visitor Center. Somebody slid off near the lower curve. Nobody’s hurt, but the county’s blocking it until they can sand it. Forecast’s calling for three to five inches of snow after midnight.”