The Meaning in Mistletoe - Rachael Bloome Page 0,22

heart melted at the sight. “How do you know it’s a him?”

“I’m not sure how I can tell, but he’s definitely a him.”

He smiled at her strong conviction, then glanced at the sky, alarmed by how quickly the storm had progressed. “My house is closest. We won’t have time to make it all the way back into town before the roads close.”

He waited for her to argue, but she merely nodded, stroking the dog’s head. Compassion seemed to flow out of her fingertips, guiding her every movement.

And while his feelings for Kat may have been pure infatuation before, something inside of him shifted in that moment.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on it now.

Not if he wanted to get them home safely.

Chapter 11

For the second time that afternoon, Kat found herself awestruck as they approached Jack’s home. Poised on the edge of a picturesque lake with towering snowcapped mountains in the distance, the cozy cabin looked like a wintry paradise.

“You live here?” she asked, still dumbfounded. Although it was covered in several inches of snow, she recognized the outline of a boat secured to a short dock and a ring of Adirondack chairs by the water’s edge.

“Yep. It’s not much, but it’s home.” He parked in a rudimentary garage that appeared sturdy but austere. Stacks of firewood lined two of the three walls. The third housed a bicycle with all-terrain tires, fishing poles and tackle, and a couple of kayaks.

Kat followed close behind Jack as he carried the dog toward the house. Although it took less than a minute to span the short distance to the porch, snowflakes caked her hair and clothing.

He nodded toward the front door, which he apparently kept unlocked, and Kat nudged it open, closing it behind them to block out the storm.

As she stood in the entrance, the intimacy of invading Jack’s personal space struck her all at once, leaving her nervous and uncertain.

“Can you grab a blanket and lay it in front of the fireplace?”

She followed his gaze toward a well-worn steamer trunk and popped it open. A stack of thick blankets—mostly plaid—greeted her, and she chose the fluffiest one, laying it on the hardwood floor in front of a rotund potbelly stove. Although chilly inside the cabin, warmth radiated from the black iron chamber. She suspected hot embers lingered inside from a previous fire.

Jack gently laid the pup on the makeshift bed before stoking the fire with a fresh log. It crackled and sparked as he prodded the coals, igniting a hearty blaze. “You can hang your coat by the front door. The cabin will be warm in a few minutes. The perks of living in a small space.” He smiled, calling her attention to the cabin’s modest size.

The kitchen, dinette, and living area could easily fit inside the formal sitting room at Hope Hideaway, but it was cozy.

Her heart raced as she draped her coat over a rustic hook before removing her damp shoes. They’d be trapped inside for hours, maybe even all night. Suddenly, her temperature rose and it had nothing to do with the roaring fire. She cleared her throat. “We should see if we can get him to eat something. Do you have broth?”

“There’s a mason jar in the fridge.” Jack rose and removed his coat and boots. “Are you hungry? If you want to warm the broth, I can whip up something for us.”

“That would be wonderful. Thanks.”

They silently worked side by side in the confined kitchen, listening to the sound of falling snow. Kat never realized it even made a sound, but she’d describe it as a faint whooshing or a soft whisper of wind. Either way, it was heavenly.

Within minutes, the mouthwatering aroma of rosemary and thyme filled the cabin as Jack threw together some chicken soup.

Kat set a bowl of broth on the floor for the pup, ecstatic when he lapped up every last drop before curling into a ball and drifting off to sleep.

“I think he’s going to be just fine, thanks to you.” The admiration in Jack’s voice warmed her from the inside out, and she wanted to bask in the glow.

“And you,” she added, her voice a bit breathy. Although she’d been attracted to Jack since the moment they met, something about rescuing the dog together drew her to him even more than before—dangerously close.

“Make yourself comfortable on the couch,” he told her, ladling the soup into two enormous stoneware mugs.

She nestled into the far corner, snuggling beneath a plush blanket.

Jack