Spring Secrets - Allie Boniface Page 0,31

church who got herpes after her fiance cheated on her. Casual sex just seemed messy and risky and not anything Sienna wanted to get involved with.

But she had to admit, if she could try it without risk or consequence, Dash Springer would be the perfect guy.

“Sienna? You still there?” Max was tapping the screen. “Sometimes this thing freezes, and I swear—”

“I’m here.” She walked into the kitchen and started opening cupboards. “I just realized I’m down to bare bones. May have to go to the diner tonight.” Thankfully, Zeb’s was one of a handful of places that had stayed open throughout the storm. She’d seen plow trucks parked outside all at hours of the day and night, the drivers hurrying inside and emerging a few minutes later with giant cups of coffee and to-go containers.

“Be safe,” Max said. “Five months and counting! Can’t wait to see you!”

“I will. See you soon.” Sienna checked every cupboard and her fridge and came up with a can of tomato soup, some yogurt, and two apples. Definitely not enough to make any kind of nourishing dinner.

How are you guys over there? she texted her mother. Snowed in?

Not too bad. Dash Springer has been by twice.

Sienna almost dropped her phone. What did that mean? Before she could ask, another message flicked onto the screen.

He’s been plowing out everyone over here. The Masons have used him for years. Your father’s back is still bad so I told him he COULD NOT SHOVEL!!

Huh. That’s good, Sienna answered almost without thinking. She had no idea Dash did snow removal on the side. Then again, what did she know about him? Here she’d been treating the storm like a holiday, sleeping in and watching reality TV, drinking wine and talking to Max, while he’d been driving around town clearing snow.

He had to be exhausted. Probably starving, too. She’d gotten a peek inside his refrigerator the other night, and it held even less than hers did. Sudden inspiration struck her. It might not cost her as much as a load of furniture, but she bet she could drop off a home cooked meal.

She looked outside. The snow had died down, the howling wind had quieted, and she could almost see the other side of the street. Now would be as good a time as any to brave the elements. The grocery store most people used was over in Silver Valley, but the local Grab ‘n Go was less than a half-mile away. She picked up her phone again.

Does Dad have chains on the pickup?

Of course, her mother answered. Why?

IT WAS AFTER NINE WHEN Dash finally finished clearing the last driveways on Sycamore Lane. He hadn’t seen a storm like this one since coming back from California, and truth be told, it almost made him miss the sunshine and palm trees.

Almost.

He yawned as he pulled down his road. Seventeen driveways plowed in the last forty-eight hours, most of them twice. Over a grand in his glove box, too. Not too shabby for a couple days’ worth of work. He parked and rolled his neck from side to side. The snow had pretty much stopped by now, and he’d be back to his regular schedule at the gym tomorrow. Right now all he wanted was a hot shower and about ten hours of shut-eye.

He almost tripped over the brown paper bag on his steps. “What the—” He looked around, but every house on the block was closed up tight. He’d forgotten to leave his own front light on, but he could see the faint outline of footsteps that had been there before him. Pranksters? A mail order dropped off at the wrong address? Could be anything inside the bag. He reached down and peered inside.

Food. Four or five containers, from the looks of it. As if on command, his stomach growled. He’d survived on coffee and cold sandwiches most of yesterday and today, but whatever was inside the bag smelled a hell of a lot better than that. He grabbed it and carried it inside, where he flipped on the kitchen light and set the bag on the counter.

Thought you might be hungry, read the handwritten note on top. —Sienna

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He shrugged off his heavy coat and let it fall to the floor, where it dribbled half-melted snow and ice across the linoleum. He’d tracked in mud and snow on his boots too, but he didn’t care. The scent of home-cooked food hadn’t filled this kitchen in ages. He