Over the River and Through the Woods by Lacey Weatherford Read Free Book Online Page A

opened a drawer, spying a bottle of over-the-counter pain meds in the dim light. “Here you go.” I pulled the bottle out and shook it. “Do you still need some of these?”
    “Yes, please!” He sounded relieved. “Hold the blanket.” Sliding from behind me, he found a glass and got some water out of the tap.
    “What’s that door to?” I asked, pointing to the far wall.
    “I have no idea. I haven’t checked it yet,” he replied after swallowing his pills. “Let’s find out.”
    Turning the handle I squealed as he swung the light to hit it. “It’s a pantry! And it looks like it’s fully stocked! Check it out. There’s bottled fruit and containers marked with baking supplies. And canned soups!”
    Micah laughed heartily. “I never thought I’d hear someone so excited about canned soup in my life.”
    “Doesn’t that sound perfect, right now? Didn’t you say we can use the stove? Or we can even cook it on the fire.”
    “I did. We can do whatever you want.” I could tell he was completely amused over my exuberance.
    “Shine your light over here.” He did as I asked. “Look! There’s cake mixes and frosting.” Snatching a box off the shelf I turned it over and glanced at the instructions. “These mixes don’t require eggs either, only oil and water.”
    “There’s oil right there on the shelf and it looks like the pans are down here.”
    “Please tell me it’s okay to use all this stuff!” Biting at my lip, I looked up at him for his approval.
    “Well, personally, I’d rather a stranded traveler break into my vacation home and eat my food versus finding dead bodies in my house because they were trying to be polite. But that’s just me.”
    Smiling widely, I nodded my head vigorously in agreement. “Let’s eat! I mean sure, it won’t be my mom’s famous Christmas Eve treats, but we can still make the night the best we can, right?”
    “I don’t see any problem with that. And who knows how long this storm is going to go on. We might as well make ourselves comfortable.”
    “Speaking of comfortable, do you think any of my clothes are dry enough that I can get out of this towel?”
    “Let’s find out.” I followed Micah over to the makeshift dryer he’d set up and we began feeling the fabric of each piece. “These are completely dry,” he said wryly, dangling my panties from his index finger. “If your other stuff is still wet, I’d be totally okay with you cooking dinner in just these.” I blushed.
    Punching him in the shoulder, I grabbed my underwear from him and started sliding them up my legs, pausing when I got to my knees. “Uh, turn around,” I ordered.
    Grinning widely, he sighed heavily and faced the other direction. I quickly grabbed my bra and, dropping the towel, I put it on too, before snatching my clean cable knit sweater and sliding it on, the long length of it brushing just past my hips to rest on my thighs. There were a couple very slight damp spots on the wrists, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle.
    “Is it safe to turn around, yet?” Micah asked, the humor still in his voice.
    I threw his clean t-shirt at him. “Get dressed. No peeking.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” he replied and I couldn’t help feeling sad as he covered his delicious looking muscles, once again.
    Sliding into my jeans, I hurried to zip and button them before grabbing the small flash light off the table and hurrying back to the kitchen, leaving Micah to finish dressing.
    Checking the cupboard again, I searched for a saucepan to make soup. “Hey, here’s an oil lamp. Can we light it for the kitchen? That would help me see a bit better.”
    “Sure, I can get that started for you.”
    “What kind of cake do you want? I figured I’ll start it first, so it can be cooking in the oven while we make and eat the soup.”
    “The chocolate cake looked good. There was a tub of chocolate frosting in there next to it, too.”
    “Chocolate cake it is. I’ve always loved that about you. Did you