trying.”
“Sounds like you’re talking to me.” I pulled the sheet up over me, each small movement making the cot creak and groan.
“Do you think the roads will be clear enough to go home tomorrow?” Reed asked, his voice a little rough. “What if it keeps snowing and doesn’t stop? We could be stuck here for forever.”
“It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow,” I told him. “We’ll be home in no time. Now go to sleep.”
Reed faced the wall, and I stared at his back in the darkness. He stayed still for a full minute before moving again.
“Christ,” I said, sitting up and grabbing my phone.
“What are you doing?” Reed peeked at me over his shoulder.
“Putting something on so you’ll settle down and sleep.” I scrolled through my Spotify until I found a playlist I’d made a while back that was for deep sleep. It was filled with instrumental music that was meant to put the listener in a deep state of relaxation. I had listened to it during the nights when my brain wouldn’t shut off.
“I can’t listen to music when I sleep. I get distracted by the words.”
“There aren’t any words. Now shh.” I hit Play and placed my phone on the bedside table, turning down the volume so it wasn’t too loud but loud enough to hear.
Within minutes, Reed was softly snoring.
I gave a self-satisfied smile and closed my eyes.
After tonight, we’d return to Blue Harbor and everything would go back to normal. And hopefully my desire for him would stay in Ivory Falls.
***
“Um.” Reed turned from the window the next morning and cringed, letting the heavy curtain fall back in place. “So, the snow didn’t stop.”
“What?” I walked out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth and went over to him, peering outside. The snow was so thick that it covered the entire walkway and nearly reached the bottom step of the porch. And it was still coming down. Hard. “Goddammit.”
Reed snickered. “I’ve never heard you cuss before.”
“This is not the time to be laughing,” I growled, snatching up my phone and checking the weather. My blood turned to ice in my veins. “A goddamn blizzard warning is in effect until noon tomorrow.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we’re probably fucked,” I hissed, then took a deep breath and swept a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry for my language. I just didn’t expect to be stuck here for another day. This isn’t good. I have too much work to get done, and this will put me behind.”
“I know you prefer to control everything, Mr. Sawyer, but this is out of your hands.” Reed sat on the edge of the bed and brought his legs up, wrapping his thin arms around them. He was still in his nightclothes. “We can work remotely from here. You brought your laptop, and mine’s in the car, so I can run down and get it. Any urgent emails can be answered, and time-sensitive matters can be handled. I’m sure we can even Skype with clients if need be. It’ll be okay.”
Though I was still frustrated, I felt a bit better. Reed had, once again, calmed me down before I got too worked up.
“Get dressed,” I said, sitting in the chair in the corner to put on my shoes. “We’ll eat breakfast and then figure out what to do. Take it one step at a time. Who knows, maybe the roads are fine and we can be on our way shortly.”
“Maybe.” Reed hopped up and gathered his clothes from yesterday before going into the bathroom to change.
While he got ready, I took the sheets off the cot and folded it back up so it wasn’t taking up space in the room. With luck, we’d be able to leave soon and I wouldn’t need to sleep on the damn thing again, but I had little hope.
A gut feeling told me Reed and I would be spending a lot more time together. Nerves swam inside my veins at the thought, and I plopped down on his bed. He hadn’t made it after waking up, so the sheets were wrinkled where he’d slept. An indention of his head was still on the pillow. For some reason, it made my chest tighten a bit, and I ran my hand over the pillow.
The bathroom door opened, and I quickly stood.
“You think they have donuts here?” Reed asked, walking back into the room, using a Q-tip before discarding it in the trash can. “I’d kill for a chocolate donut with