Snowed In (4 page)

“I’m a laugh a minute,” I said. I laughed. “See?

In sixty seconds I’ll have another one.” He laughed really loudly, his eyes twinkling.

33

“You
are
fun.”

“Okay, I think we’re done here,” Nathalie suddenly announced.

“We’ve been getting orders all morning,” Chase said to her. “Why don’t you box them for shipping while you’re here?”

“Because it’s my day off.”

“You ship fudge?” I asked.

Nathalie looked back at me. “Sure. You want to ship some somewhere?”

“Yeah, to my friend Tara back home.”

“I thought this was home,” Chase said.

I shook my head and gave him a wry grin. “Old habits are hard to break.”

“I can imagine. I’ve only ever lived here.”

“I think it’s going to take more getting used to than I thought.”

“You just need someone to show you the ropes, and fortunately for you, I know the ropes really well.”

“Shipping the fudge,” Nathalie said, in a sing-song voice, interrupting our conversation and slapping a form and a pen on the counter. “Fill out the shipping info. I’d do express so it gets there fresh.” I filled out the form, then made my fudge selections. I went with a variety—one quarter pound each of milk chocolate, key lime, rocky 34

road, and chocolate walnut.

“She’s going to love these,” Nathalie said, closing up the box and taping my order sheet on top of it. “I’ll go prepare the shipping label and get this boxed up so it’ll go out today.”

She disappeared through a doorway.

“Wow, she must really like you,” Chase said.

“I like her.” I moved back toward the door, back to where he was working, very close to the front window. I guess for tourists he’d be an added attraction.

“Thanks again for the fudge.”

“Hey, no problem. Although Nathalie’s right, I just give it away to get dates. So when do you want to go out?”

“You’re not serious.” I’m a firm believer in speed dating, but this was warp speed.

He shrugged. “You got a boyfriend?”

“Well, no.”

“Your calendar already filled?”

“I just got here.”

“So you’re available.”

You are available, Ash,
I thought.

“You move really fast,” I pointed out. I mean, I knew what the guy looked like, but I knew absolutely nothing else about him. Except that Nathalie said he was a jerk. But he didn’t seem to 35

be a jerk. Maybe he was one of those psychopathic types who appear normal until the cops take a look in his basement.

“Have to. New chicks don’t last long. So can you blame me? The one thing this island lacks is variety in babes.”

“How about variety in guys?”

He grinned. “We’re lacking in that, too. I could be the best offer you get all winter.” But I had standards, even when it came to dating. I needed a few more details.

“I researched the school. It’s going to be so different from what I’m used to. Are you a student there?”

“You bet. Senior. Counting the days until I get off this rock.”

“This rock?”

“That’s what we call the island when we’re not happy with it.”

“Why aren’t you happy with it?”

He looked toward the door where Nathalie had disappeared. Then he turned his attention back to me. “Let’s just say that sometimes it’s easy to be invisible.”

With so few people, I couldn’t imagine it, but I thought maybe more was going on here than I realized.

36

“So, you wanna go out?” he asked.

“We just met.”

“Yeah, but you’re a laugh a minute. I like that in a girl.”

“I’m not really a laugh a minute.”

“That’s okay. I don’t really give away free fudge for dates.” He paused, grinned broadly. “Usually.

Come on. Go out with me.”

I felt a small thrill. Maybe online dating wasn’t going to be in my future after all.

“Where do people go on dates around here?” I asked.

“Lots of places. We could go to V.P.”

“V.P.?”

“Village Pub.”

“Sounds like a bar.”

“Nah, it’s where all the kids hang out. Pool, darts, getting together . . . How ’bout Friday night?”

I was in town half a day and I already had a date. How many guys were on this island? And what were the odds that I’d connect with another one as easily as I’d connected with Chase?

Amazing.

I gave him a huge smile. “I’m there.”

“Great.”

I held up my sack. “And to think, I thought I 37

only came in here for fudge.”

“And if you were smart, that’s all you’d be leaving with,” Nathalie grumbled, coming out from the back room, tugging on mittens.

I just didn’t get her objections.

“Friday,” I said to Chase, smiling brightly.

“Can’t wait.”

He winked at me. “I’ll come by at seven.” Shaking her head, Nathalie grabbed my arm.

“Honestly, I don’t know what girls see in him.

Come on, let’s get out of here.”

She practically shoved me out the door.

“Bye, Chase. Thanks for the fudge,” I called over my shoulder.

When we were outside, Nathalie said, “I have to warn you that Chase is a major player.” She made it sound like I shouldn’t have been flattered that he’d asked me out.

“I thought he was nice,” I told her.

“I guess. It’s just so weird watching him flirt all the time. It really irritates me. And the longest he’s ever had a girlfriend is, like, two minutes.”

“I didn’t think many girls lived on the island,” I said.

“He’s really into fudgies. No commitment, nothing long-term. Unlike me. I’ve had the same boyfriend for five years now.”

38

“Awesome.” I didn’t know anyone who’d had a boyfriend for that long. Gosh, five years? They started dating in middle school? Oh, wait, there was no middle school. There was just school.

“Yeah, we practically grew up together. Of course, I guess that’s pretty true of everyone who lives here.” She glanced around. “So, do you think you can find your way home from here?” Her question took me by surprise, but I said,

“Sure. No problem.”

“Okay, then, I’m going to see my boyfriend.

See ya around, girlfriend,” she said.

She started walking in the opposite direction that I needed to go. I could see a road curving upward. That might be interesting to explore someday. As a matter of fact, I really needed to map out an exploring strategy. While the island wasn’t that large, it still had lots of possibilities.

But I was starting to lose feeling in my extrem-ities again. Maybe in time, I’d toughen up and the cold wouldn’t feel so cold.

I glanced around. I could see only a few people, so I took out my cell phone and very nonchalantly sent a few more pictures to Tara. No way did I want to be mistaken for a tourist. This was my new home.

I wanted to do everything I could to fit in.

* * *

39

“I can’t believe there’s so much snow!” Tara said when I called her later that night.

“I know. And there’s more falling right now.” I was sitting on the window seat in my room, wrapped in a quilt my grandmother had made and wearing my toasty slippers—specially designed to be warmed in the microwave.

“That is so cool. Shaun and I went cycling today—in shorts.”

I loved Tara. She’d been my best friend forever.

But her selection of boyfriend had baffled me.

Shaun Dade. I secretly call him Shaun of the Dead.

He never gets excited about
anything.
Well, except maybe dating Tara, but even then it’s hard to tell.

She told me that he saves his enthusiasm for making out. Way too much information.

“I have a feeling it’s going to be a while before I’m wearing shorts again,” I said.
If ever!

“Have you built a snowman yet?”

“Nooo!”

“Why not?”

“Maybe because I’m a little old for building snowmen?”

“You’re never too old for building snowmen.

Besides, you could build a whole village of snowmen.”

Shaking my head, I looked down where the 40

street lamps were casting a glow. I saw two people walking together, arm in arm, probably trying to warm each other up. This was definitely a place for couples. And I’d already made great progress in that area.

“Guess what? I’ve got a date already.”

“You’re kidding!”

She practically shrieked in my ear. She and Shaun were total opposites. Maybe it was true that opposites attract.

“I thought there were, like, no guys on the island,” she continued.

“There are guys. Just not many.”

“And you’ve already hooked up with one?”

“Apparently, he has no interest whatsoever in commitment.”

“Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

“That’s the thing. There’s no potential for an actual
match
, because neither of us wants a match.

That’s what makes him perfect. We’ll go out a time or two, and he’ll move on to the fudgies.”

“The what?”

“The tourists.”

“What if you don’t want him to move on?” Tara—who thought the ultimate was having a boyfriend—had a difficult time understanding my attitude about dating. It wasn’t only because I’d 41

grown up with Mom constantly reminding me to wait. I just didn’t seem to have the settle-for-one-guy gene.

“It won’t happen,” I said with full confidence.

“What if it does?”

“Tara, he likes to go out with different girls. I like to go out with different guys.”

“Yeah, but there aren’t as many guys on the island as there are here.”

“I’ll date fudgies, too.” As a matter of fact, now that I knew that was an option, I could see the potential for getting to meet all kinds of guys. It could be fun. Lots and lots of fun.

“Okay,” she said with a sigh, which I knew meant she wasn’t going to try to convince me. So a subject change was coming. “I can’t believe your mom named your new place after you.” With my cell phone, I’d taken pictures of the sign and sent them to her. When no one was looking, of course.

“Yeah, I thought that was pretty cool. I’m going to design the website.”

I’d taken website design my sophomore year and had been in advanced design before Mom and I decided we wanted to move.

“Awesome,” Tara said. “You have something in mind?”

42

We tossed ideas back and forth until Shaun showed up at her place. Then she hung up to be with him.

I brought my knees up to my chest, wrapped my arms around my legs, and gazed out the window. It really was pretty at night. And so quiet.

Except for the wind howling.

I really liked my room, and I was definitely going to keep it.

But just for tonight, I might sleep with the light on.

43

4

I am so not a morning person. And early morning? Forget it. As far as I’m concerned, it should have never been invented.

I was snuggled in my bed, under a mound of blankets, my head beneath my pillow, trying to ignore the wind shrieking around outside. Because the house was old, it wasn’t very well insulated or sealed. Everything seemed to rattle.

I rolled over and sighed. It was still dark and dreary, but my internal clock told me I needed coffee.

Wearing my not-so-sexy flannel trousers and long-sleeved shirt, I clambered out of bed and put on my fuzzy purple slippers. Shivering, I slipped on my thick robe, but didn’t bother to tie it. I was going to head quickly down the stairs to the bathroom, where hopefully I could find more warmth, along with my toothbrush and hairbrush.

The stairs did their usual creaking as I hurried 44

down them. Briefly, I stopped to look through the circular window and saw the silhouette of someone trudging along the street. I wondered how long it would take me to get used to all the snow.

I dashed down the narrow steps. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I turned into the hallway and came up short.

A lumberjack was standing there.

Or at least, that’s what he looked like. A really young, really
hot
lumberjack. He was tall and broad, with midnight black hair that curled around his ears and across his brow, creating the perfect frame for his startling blue eyes.

He was wearing an unbuttoned red plaid flannel shirt that was so thick it was almost a jacket.

Beneath that he wore a black turtleneck sweater.

He was turned slightly so I couldn’t see his other hand.

Lumberjacks carried axes. I had a flashback to
The Shining
. My heart hammered against my ribs. I didn’t know this guy. Who was he? And where was Mom?

He grinned. “Hey.”

“Who are you?” I snapped, jerking the sides of my robe together and tying the sash.

His eyebrows shot up. “Most people I know respond to a greeting with another greeting.” 45

“Well, I’m not someone you know, now, am I?

For all I know you’re a serial killer.” He chuckled. How could anyone chuckle in the morning?

“Do I look like a serial killer?” he asked.

I guessed not, but still . . .

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Your mom hired my dad to do some repairs.

They’re in the kitchen discussing details.”

“So you just decided to make yourself at home?” He narrowed his eyes. “Your mom said I could look around. I’ve never been in this house before, but it’s always interested me because of the turrets.

I have this thing for turrets. I’m Josh Wynter, by the way.”

“And do you become Josh Summer in June?” I asked.

Okay, it was totally lame, a stupid thing to say, but I was still reeling from the fact that a hot guy—

were all the guys on this island hot?—was roaming the halls and I was . . .

Not at my best. Ratty robe. Fuzzy slippers. Hair tangled. Teeth unbrushed.

And have I mentioned that I am not a morning person?

“Actually,” he said at last, as though finally catching on to my not-so-witty banter, “I stay Josh 46

Wynter all year. Do you stay unfriendly?”

“That does not deserve an answer,” I mumbled as I shoved past him as quickly as I could and went into the bathroom. I slammed the door shut.

Okay, I
had
been unfriendly, rude even, but he was so unexpected. And so hot. And I already had a date for Friday night.