Most likely related to the Sterlings that hired me and rented me a cabin for my stay in Wintervale.
Nepotism at its finest.
And I’d be the sucker to fall into the trap.
Again.
I look down at his outstretched hand and shove mine into the pockets of my jacket. He frowns and I hate how much that bothers me. Reid is handsome in an unassuming kind of way, his black-framed glasses and beanie making him look adorably delicious, something I absolutely should not be noticing.
And before I put the frown on his handsome face, his smile had damn near jump-started my heart.
This cannot be happening.
Clenching my jaw, I do my best not to let my gaze rake down his body, instead peering just past his right ear so I can’t see the way his sky-blue eyes don’t sparkle the way they did when he first walked up.
Dammit.
“Morning,” I say gruffly. Reid’s lips twitch on one side as he tucks his hands into his jacket and rocks back slightly on his heels.
“Really living up to your name, aren’t you, Mr. Frost?”
My only reply is a grunt, but instead of being upset, he just chuckles.
But I can’t help it. My name shouldn’t sound so sexy falling from his lips. I don’t remember another time in my life that anyone has addressed me that way, but Ilikethe way it sounds coming from Reid.
Unhelpfully, the wordcomingstarts playing on a loop in my head as I stare at the man before me, his cheeks pink from the cold, but all I can imagine is how far that blush would spread when he orgasms.
It’s inappropriate.
Possibly offensive.
But it doesn’t stop me. I want to hate myself, but I can’t because I see the spark of interest in Reid’s gaze as he watches me.
A challenge.
“If you need anything let me know,” he says, taking a step backward, his smile growing asI won’tfails to leave my lips. “I’ll definitely see you around.”
I stare at his retreating form, his jeans hugging his perfect ass and doing nothing to temper my newfound obsession with a man who is completely off-limits.
Because of course this would happen to me.
Sighing, I drag my gloved hand down my face.
My time in Wintervale has an expiration.
And the clock is ticking.
3
REID
The smell of garlic floats merrily around the kitchen as the pot of sauce simmers on the stove. The lasagna is in the oven, and a bottle of red sits open on the counter with two glasses just waiting to be filled.
Now all I need is Wren.
Looking at the clock again, I tap my foot and scroll through a social app for the hundredth time before her key jingles in the lock.
Thank God.
