Snowed In by Rachel Hawthorne Read Free Book Online

about my morning persona that I was irritated by his smile—and by the fact that he was incredibly good-looking? In a horror movie, he’d definitely be the one who survived.
    He almost made me regret having a date Friday night. Every girl I’d met so far had a boyfriend.
    Would I be the only girl interested in dating different guys? Would that stop me from fitting in? And would one or two dates with Josh be enough?
    Would it satisfy my craving to be with him?
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    Wait, craving? I never felt that way about anyone. It was like someone I didn’t know had taken possession of my thoughts.
    “I’ve gotta get some coffee,” I mumbled.
    “Don’t let me stop you.”
    “I won’t.”
    I shuffled by him. Peering into the room, I could see that all the furniture had been moved into its center. How long had he been here?
    Obviously quite a while. He’d probably had coffee and breakfast already.
    “Don’t let me stop you from working,” I said.
    “I won’t,” he said.
    He walked into the room, and I hurried down the stairs. At the bottom, I was surprised to hear laughter weaving into the entryway. My mom’s laughter. Light and airy.
    It was really too early in the morning for light and airy, but I was rooted to the spot. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard Mom laugh with such abandon. Then she giggled. “Oh, Ralph.” Ralph? Who the heck was Ralph?
    I strode through the dining room and into the kitchen. Mom was sitting at the table beside a man I assumed was Mr. Wynter, because he looked a lot like Josh. Wearing guilty expressions, they both looked up when I walked in.
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    “Hey, hon,” Mom said. “Help yourself to coffee, then you can pick out some wallpaper for your bedroom.”
    I grabbed my usual morning mug and poured coffee, milk, and sugar into it. Leaning against the counter, I took a sip and began to feel more human. “I heard you laughing. What was so funny?”
    “Mr. Wynter was just telling me a story about one of his customers.”
    “Isn’t there, like, some sort of customer/carpenter privilege?”
    I didn’t want to think about the nasty things that Josh could tell people about me.
    Mr. Wynter actually turned bright red. “Uh, well, uh . . . it wasn’t anything . . . it wasn’t a secret.”
    “Don’t worry about it, Dad,” Josh said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. “She’s just worried that we’ll tell people she’s not a morning person.”
    How had he figured that out?
    “We’ll sign a nondisclosure statement,” he added. “Although truthfully, it’s pretty obvious.”
    “Thanks . . . I think,” I said, before taking a big gulp of coffee.
    “Ashleigh, pour Josh some coffee,” Mom said.
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    “That’s okay,” Josh said, walking around me and grabbing a mug from the mug tree. “I’m not a guest.”
    He winked at me. My toes did that whole crazy curling thing again and my heart started fluttering like a bird trapped in my chest. What is up with that?
    I thought. I’m always cool, calm, and collected around guys, but then, I never felt like anything was at stake before. Why did I feel like something was at stake here? My attitude about guys had always been like ’em and leave ’em—at least until I’m out of college. But I had a feeling that Josh Wynter would be a hard guy to leave.
    Josh leaned one hip against the counter and sipped his black coffee.
    “Ashleigh, come look at the wallpaper selections,” Mom said.
    Good. A distraction. That was what I needed. I sat at the table and started looking through the binder.
    “Have lots of this in stock,” Mr. Wynter said, pointing to a swatch of wallpaper.
    Josh cleared his throat. I glanced over at him.
    He slowly shook his head. It looked like he was fighting back another grin.
    Maybe because the wallpaper his dad wanted me to select was a puke green with mallard ducks 61
    on it. Not that I had anything against ducks, but puke green? I could certainly understand why he had a lot in stock. Who would want it?