A Wedding in December - Sarah Morgan Page 0,100

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“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you occasionally talk sense, Jordan.”

They were sitting close together. The only sound was the crackle of the fire and the howl of the wind beating against the walls of the cabin. What had felt cozy before, now felt intimate. Her leg was pressed against his and she felt a rush of desire that almost knocked her flat.

She glanced at him and then looked away quickly, but not before she’d seen a response in his eyes. “How about you? Do you love what you do?”

“Most days. And then sometimes I’m freezing off my fingers and toes in a blizzard—”

“—and you think you’d like a nice, warm office job?” There was a shift in the atmosphere. She sensed he was aware of it, too.

He gave a soft laugh. “That has never been the dream. I wanted to live and work in the mountains. That was the most important thing for me.”

She envied the fact that he was so sure about what he wanted. “I can’t believe you built this place.” She stood up, drained from her own emotional outpouring and more than a little embarrassed.

“Shaped every log and board myself. Lost most of the skin on my fingers in the process.”

She tipped her head back and glanced up at the roof. “You have no TV and no Wi-Fi.”

“That’s right.”

“So how do you occupy yourself?” She turned her head and met his gaze.

Humor glimmered there. “Are you propositioning me, Dr. White?”

Her mouth felt dry. “I might be. Of course it could be the wine.” She’d probably read him wrong, in which case her embarrassment was about to triple. “As it doesn’t seem that I’ll be going anywhere tonight, can I change my mind and use your shower?”

He stood up, too. “I’ll fetch you towels and leave some dry clothes on the bed.” The bed. One bed. The reality of it struck home. She was snowed in with Jordan.

“Do you have blankets for the sofa?”

“Yes, but I’ll take the sofa.” He disappeared, and reappeared moments later with towels. “Shower is straightforward.”

She stripped off her clothes, put her underwear on the heated towel rail to dry off and stepped under the jets of water. It turned out to be a rainhead shower and she lathered her hair, soaped her body and realized at some point that she felt better than she had in a long time. Maybe it was the wine. Or maybe it was because she’d finally talked about it. Jordan, it turned out, was a good listener.

Wrapped in a towel, she rescued her underwear and stepped across the hall into the bedroom. He’d laid out fleece-lined sweatpants, T-shirts and a sweater.

She tied the waist of the sweatpants and turned up the bottoms so she didn’t fall over them. Her own sweater had somehow stayed miraculously dry so she pulled that back on.

She wasn’t going to win any fashion contests but at least she was warm and dry.

The bedroom was dominated by the large bed and the fireplace. Like the rest of the cabin, the focus was on the quality of the wood and the workmanship. The floor was heated, the bed draped in soft layers to keep the chill out on cold nights. There were books stacked on both nightstands, and the soft glow of a lamp sent a shaft of light across the bed. It was more rustic than elegant, but there was something about the place that made her want to crawl into that bed, sink against the pile of pillows and read until her eyes drifted shut.

Instead she dried her hair and joined Jordan in the living room. He was seated on the sofa, his legs stretched out as he stared into the fire.

She sat down next to him and picked up her glass. “Now I understand why you’ve been so protective of Dan. He’s like a brother to you. You think of him the same way I think about Rosie.”

“Not exactly, but yes—” he shrugged “—there’s a similarity.”

“Do you think the marriage will work? Are they rushing things?”

“Unlike you, Dr. White, I don’t do a risk assessment on every situation, or try to predict every outcome. I tend to let life happen.”

“I envy you. But what’s your best guess?”

“My marriage lasted six months, so I don’t consider myself qualified to comment or advise on anyone else’s relationship, but I know what rushing looks like and I don’t think I’m seeing it here.”

“But your own experience hasn’t made you cynical about relationships. If

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