Page 4 of Snowed In with the Rancher
“Where the hell are you, Hannah?” Triss muttered to herself as she yanked her suitcase up the steps of the wraparound porch toward the door. She opened the screen door and tapped the horseshoe door knocker three times.
It felt like ten minutes, but it was probably no more than two that she stood there in the cold and dark. She knocked again, this time five times and more forcefully.
If nobody was home, she would legit go find a horse stall to curl up in and cry.
Between Lorne, the delayed flights, the obnoxious cabby, and having to walk half a mile in the snow lugging her suitcase, Triss was not only dead on her feet physically, but also emotionally. The dam on her tear ducts was seconds away from breaking.
Footsteps echoed on the other side of the door and the porch light flicked on just before the big solid oak door was yarded open to reveal a shirtless man, not much older than Triss, wearing flannel pajama pants. He had abs for days, dog tags hanging between his pecs, a scowl on his face, and confusion in his dark blue eyes.
Was she at the right house?
Hannah said she was coming to spend Christmas with her uncles. This man could not be Hannah’s uncle. Not when he should be on the cover of some firefighters with kittens calendar. Or in this case, cowboys with baby goats calendar.
His eyes traipsed down her body. “Who are you?” Dear God, his voice was exactly what she’d expect from a cowboy. Sex and rasp.
She swallowed, trying her hardest to keep her eyes on his face, not his six-pack. “I’m Triss. Hannah’s friend.”
His brows scrunched. “Hannah’s flight had to turn around.”
“Did it?” She checked her phone, though she realized the moment she did it that it wouldn’t do her any good. Not only would Hannah not be able to text her if she was still in the air, but Triss’s phone had up and died on her journey from the road. “Fuck,” she muttered, stowing her phone back in her pocket. “Are you Hannah’s cousin?”
He shook his head which caused the porch light to catch on a thick white scar on his chin and make it glow. “Uncle.”
If the other uncle was just as young and hot, Triss was going to have a heart attack.
“She did tell you I was coming, right?”
He shook his head.
“Fuck.”
“For Christmas?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. Hannah invited me to join her here with you and … your brother? For Christmas.” At the mention of his brother, Triss tried to see around the man’s big frame into the house and whether another one just like him was lurking in the shadows.
“Nate’s in Texas. Took a yearling down there few days ago, got stuck in the snow.”
“And you are?”
“Asher.”
A man of very few words.
“Well … uh … I flew in from Baltimore. Hannah’s my best friend and …” She glanced back toward the road. “My cabby made me walk from the road. After I paid triple the fare to get here.”
All Asher did was scratch at his bristly jaw, the sound of his nails on those short wiry hairs doing all kinds of strange things to Triss’s lower belly.
Was he going to invite her in?
His eyes bore holes into her face for a solid thirty seconds, causing heat to worm through her until her hands grew sweaty in her gloves. Then, finally when she wasn’t sure if he’d slam the door in her face or not, he opened it wider and stepped to the side. “Come in.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, awkwardly tugging her suitcase over the threshold and stepping into the dark, sparsely decorated farmhouse. It was warm inside, which she realized was from a wood stove in the corner of the living room. A window in the wood stove door was the only light in the room, its orange flames making the area around it glow.
She tugged off her gloves and removed her hood from her head, apologizing when a few droplets of water from it were flicked onto his hard chest.
“Guest room is down the hall. Bathroom is beside it,” he said, jerking his scarred chin in that direction. Then before she could ask him any more questions, he turned away from her and padded his big bare feet up the creaky wooden staircase that led to darkness. A second later, she heard a door close, only then did she release the breath that had snagged in her throat when she saw that butt in those pajama pants.
Doing as she was told, she rolled her suitcase to a guest room next to a bathroom, opened the door, and flicked on the light.
