Snowed In: A Billionaire Winter Novella Page 4

  I study her, pondering my words. They don't understand. Life is slow in rural areas like this one, they don't know what it's like to have pressing matters, appointments and duties that cannot wait. Due to my fucked-up phone reception, I couldn't even get a hold of my father to let him know I'm on my way. I talked to him last night, when I was still at the hotel trying to figure out if there was any way for me to get back to New York that same night. He tried to assure me that it would be okay if I took an extra day and to stay put. I had already checked out of my room, and I was too stubborn to concede. The snow was bad last night, but I didn't expect it to get even worse over the course of the next few hours.

  I feel like a fucking fool right now.

  "I need to get to New York," I repeat, knowing how stupid I must sound.

  Both of them are visibly amused at my words, and they shake their heads in perfect harmony.

  "Lena, get some coffee for our guest," the older woman says, before she points at the menu before. "And you need to get some food in you. You're not thinking straight, young man."

  I glare at her, while the girl, Lena, giggles as she turns around to fetch some coffee for me.

  I can't believe my fucking luck. Out of all places, why did I have to end up here?

  My stomach growls, reminding me that I didn't have anything to eat since dinner last night, and I didn't eat a lot then either because I was caught up in so many conversations. My presentation went well, so well in fact, that it drew a lot of people's attention. I had them coming up to me left and right during the coffee breaks and dinner. Some of them worked with my father before and only came to tell me that they have great confidence in me as his successor. It was important for me to hear such words, as that's kind of what this whole convention was about, proving myself, making my father proud - and securing my position as his heir. That has always been my goal, my entire life has been designed for this, but it was never guaranteed that I'd actually succeed, especially not at this young age and with a new affiliated firm under my belt.

  I was elated, high on endorphins and too distracted to keep an eye on the weather and my travel plans. People were talking about it, but I was too preoccupied to worry about it.

  Until it was time to head out to the airport, and I was informed that not only would I not be able to get there, but there also were no flights arriving or departing in the foreseeable future. I know some of the other attendees decided to stay another day, but I'd already checked out of my room and was ready to go. So fucking ready to leave.

  And now I'm sitting here, in a small town with the gloomy name Greymeadow, being mocked by the same girl I yelled at like an idiot two days ago after she stumbled into my arms and dropped a box of sandwiches.

  "I'll have the bacon, eggs, and homefries," I tell the old lady, who's still standing in front of me, taking my order without scribbling it down. "Eggs scrambled."

  "Some toast with that?" she asks.

  I nod. "That would be great."

  "Butter?"

  I nod again, feeling oddly defeated. What the fuck am I going to do? I'm trapped here, literally trapped.

  "Is there a hotel nearby?" I ask, as the older lady turns her back to me and is about to walk back to the kitchen.

  She stops and looks at me with an expression that appears kind of lost. Then, she slowly shakes her head.

  "No, sir," she says. "There are some cottages down the road, but they're closed this time of year."

  The swinging doors to the kitchen open noisily as Lena comes back to the front, carrying a mug and a glass carafe filled to the brim with freshly brewed coffee. The smell alone helps to lift my spirits, despite the unpromising position I find myself in.

  The older lady casts me a pitying look before she makes her way back to the kitchen, leaving me alone with Lena, who places the mug in front of me and pours steaming hot coffee into it.

  "Well, guess I'm kind of fucked," I say absentmindedly.

  She eyes me shyly. "I guess so. Glad I only worked there on day one of the conference. Even then it was hard to get back here, took me forever."

  "More than eight hours?" I ask.

  She chuckles and shakes her head. "No. But only a few people would be stupid enough to drive in this kind of weather."

  She puts the carafe down and looks at me. "You should have stayed at your hotel and ridden it out there."

  "Too late for that."

  She nods. "True. Milk and sugar?"

  I shake my head. "Black is fine."

  "Okay," she says, picking up the carafe again. "Breakfast will be right out."

  And with no further ado, she turns around and walks away, swinging her delicious hips a little too much for me to think it's not on purpose.

  She knows I'm watching her, and if my instincts are right – and they usually are – she’s not immune to my allure.

  Chapter 9

  Lena

  "That poor young man," Mrs. Lynn says to me when I join her in the kitchen.

  She's standing at the stove, assembling the ingredients to prepare his order.

  "What are we going to do with him?" she asks, casting me a quick look over her shoulder, as the butter starts sizzling in the pan.

  I place the carafe back on the hot plate under the coffee machine before turning to face her.

  "We?" I ask in surprise. "Why should we do anything with him?"

  "He's stranded, dear!" she says matter-of-factly. "He has nowhere to go. You know we can't let him go back out on the road."

  I sigh inwardly. She's right. It's a miracle he even made it this far without ending up in a ditch and freezing to death. He can't possibly continue driving through this snow storm, and especially not all the way to New York. He'd never get there.

  But he also can't stay here.

  "He's a handsome-looking man, isn't he?" Mrs. Lynn adds, winking at me.

  Of course, I blush right away. And of course, she notices. Sure he looks tired and his hair is tousled and the collar of his shirt loosened, but considering that he drove all night, he still looks amazing. Still dashing, still mind-robbing.

  "I met him at the convention," I say. "Actually, I ran into him. He's the reason why our sandwiches were ruined."

  She practically bumps the frying pan to the floor with how quickly she turns around to look at me, her thin eyebrows arched in a frown. "Oh?"

  "Well, I don't know if he's responsible, per se," I add hesitantly. "But he's the guy I ran into that caused me to drop them on the floor. And then he yelled at me for ruining his shirt."

  "Oh," she says again, reproachfully this time.

  "He tried to apologize for it later," I admit. "But I didn't exactly let him."

  "Well, dear, maybe he was stressed or in a hurry," she says. "These conventions are often make or break opportunities for these guys."

  "Yeah, maybe."

  I absentmindedly stare toward the swinging doors that lead out to the guest room.

  "He seems like a nice fellow," Mrs. Lynn says, her back to me once again as she continues cooking his breakfast. "And trustworthy, don't you think?"

  "Trustworthy?"

  I crease my eyebrows into a puzzling expression. She stirs the fries in the pan for a few more moments before reciprocating my look.

  "He has nowhere to go," she says. "And... you know we have no space at our place."

  "Are you suggesting I let him stay with me?" My heart is pounding so hard that she must be able to hear it. Is she serious? What would drive her to suggest such a thing?

  But Mrs. Lynn shakes her head.

  "No, no, dear, I'd never suggest that," she denies. "I'm just wondering who we could ask..."

  She turns back again to the stove, leaving me speechless, watching her, contemplating her words. I suddenly feel silly for thinking she would suggest that I take him in. Of course, she'd never say something like that. Where would I even put him? In Oma's bedroom? I doubt it!

  But what if....?

  "Here, would you take this
to him," she says, interrupting my dazed stream of thought, handing me a platter with home fries, eggs, bacon, and twice as much toast as we usually serve. I cast her a quizzical look.

  "Poor guy had a rough night," she says, shrugging. "I thought he could use a little extra."

  The smile on her face confuses me. It's as if she's trying to use her facial expression to convey a message to me, but I'm not sure what that message could be. My eyes hold hers a little too long before I take the plate out of her hands and walk out through the swinging doors to serve it to him.

  "Mrs. Lynn has taken a shine to you," I say, as I place the steaming food on the counter in front of him. "You had better finish all of this, or she'll be offended."

  His eyes widen, and I see a smile light up his face for the first time. He was on his phone, and he quickly put it away when I walked in. He eyes the generous platter of food before him.

  "I think the feeling may be mutual," he says. "This is just what I need."

  He looks up at me, still smiling. He’s so freaking handsome. My cheeks flush hotly again, and I curse myself for not maintaining at least some degree of decorum.

  "I'm really sorry about your shirt," I say randomly. Apparently, this is my idea of flirting.

  He laughs. "I'm sorry for yelling at you like an ass. That was uncalled for, and we both know it."

  I nod. "Hard to argue with that."

  "You caught me at a very bad time," he says as he picks up his fork. "I was under a lot of pressure. This convention was very important for me."

  "I see."

  I'm about to turn around and head back into the kitchen when he starts eating, but he stops me.

  "Say," he says, drawing my attention back to him. "Is there really no hotel or lodge or whatever in this town? A place I could stay the night?"

  I shake my head. "Afraid not."

  He sighs then. "Fuck."

  He looks visibly distraught when he lowers his eyes back to his food.

  "Do you need more coffee?" I ask, nodding toward his mug.

  The expression he gives me is empty, but he shrugs. "Yeah, sure."

  I go back into the kitchen to fetch the carafe, and I'm met with Mrs. Lynn's curious eyes.

  "Any more customers?" she asks expectantly.

  I shake my head no. "Just getting some more coffee for our traveler."

  "Well, like I said, I don't think we can expect a lot of customers today," she sighs. "Blizzards never bring good business, only stranded, handsome strangers."

  I chuckle at her words as I grab the carafe.

  "You really have a thing for him, Mrs. Lynn, don't you?"

  She shrugs. "He reminds me of my Billy. Same dark eyes, same haunted look."

  "Haunted look?"

  Mrs. Lynn's gaze wanders to the swinging doors. She slowly dries her hands off on a towel, and I’m intrigued by the faraway look in her eyes.

  "He looks sad and lonely, as if he's carrying a big burden on his shoulders," she says. "My Billy looked like that when he got promoted to that management position back then, you know, before he met his wife. 'It's a great opportunity', he kept saying, but boy, was he suffering. So much stress, such a burden. It was horrible."

  I nod as she speaks. Mrs. Lynn never talks a lot about her sons, and I've only met them a couple of times. They'd already moved away long before I got here, and they're much older than me. They don't seem to be very close, judging by how rarely they come to visit.

  "Maybe I'm just imagining things," she adds. "But yes, I feel for this young man."

  She looks at me, smiling. "Bring him his coffee. I'm sure he can use the caffeine boost."

  His head raises as soon as I walk through the swinging doors. He's smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  Or am I imagining things now? Did Mrs. Lynn cloud my judgment with her words?

  "Thanks," he says, as I refill his coffee mug. "Looks like I'll be needing this. I have a long road ahead of me."

  My eyes widen in surprise. "You want to keep driving?"

  He shrugs. "Doesn't look like I have a choice. It may take a while, but I'm sure I can make it if I drive carefully."

  I don't know what makes me say it, but the words escape my lips before I can stop myself.

  "You can stay with me."

  He looks just as surprised as I do at my words and corresponding gasp.

  What the hell am I thinking? Why am I inviting a stranger to stay at my house? I don’t even know him, and he yelled at me for something he could have avoided. He could be a rapist, a murderer. Men in power aren't exactly known for being nice guys, and so far, he hasn’t proven to be a gentleman.

  Chapter 10

  Jason

  "Stay with you?" I ask. I must not have heard her right.

  She looks like she can't believe her own words. Her face turned even more pale than it was before, replacing the earlier blush on her cheeks. I knew she was smitten with me, but I never expected her to be this bold.

  "Yes," she says. Her voice is so low, it's barely more than a whisper. "I have room… if you want to stay overnight at my place."

  I did not expect this. And from the looks of it, neither did she. She has a rather shocked look on her face, and the carafe is shaking in her hand.

  "Are you sure about this?" I ask her. "I don't want to impose."

  She nods. "We can't let you go back out on the roads in this weather."

  "I'll be okay."

  "Fine," she says, her voice still sounding an octave off normal. "It was just an idea."

  "And an offer I'd graciously accept," I say, before either of us can change our minds. "If you're sure about it, that is."

  I can't deny that the offer is intriguing. A cute girl inviting me to spend the night at her place. What kind of idiot would say no to that? Especially if the only other option is to continue trying to drive through this damn white-out. I'm fucking exhausted, and even if she's offering nothing more than a couch to sleep on, I'll gladly take it.

  But that doesn't mean I won’t try to get to know her a little better. The blush on her cheeks and the way she's swaying her hips when she knows I'm watching her give me enough reason to hope for more.

  "I am sure about this," she says, apparently taking my words as a challenge. "But you'll have to wait for my shift to end. I'm working until three."

  Sree. She’s so cute.

  "Sure," I say, even though the thought of hanging out in this diner for half of the day doesn't sound very appealing. "I'll try to get some work done in one of the booths over there after I finish my breakfast, which is, by the way, one of the finest I've ever had. Kudos to the chef."

  She smiles. "I'll let Mrs. Lynn know you like it."

  "Do you have a password the Wi-Fi?" I ask, holding up my phone. "There's only one option listed on here, and it's secured."

  She shakes her head. "That's not ours, I'm sorry. We're not Starbucks."

  I raise my eyebrows at her. This girl is asking for trouble with snippy remarks like that.

  She strides off to the kitchen then, again swaying her hips seductively. And it works. My eyes are glued to her back side until she's out of sight, my head running wild with fantasies of all the things I want to do to her. I wonder if she'll let me. I wonder if she might be into the things I have to offer. A strong hand clasping around her throat, leaving marks on her pale skin, yanking on her thick locks, those red lips wrapped around my cock...

  I shake it off. God knows I could use a stimulating encounter to clear my head of the stress from the past few days, the convention, the presentation, and the troublesome journey home. But that doesn't mean it will happen.

  But it also doesn’t mean that it won’t.

  I hang on to that hope as the day drags on, leaving me with nothing to do other than sip coffee and go through my notes from the convention. There were plenty of presentations that drew my interest, and while I wait for Lena's shift to end, I begin to write down notes for my father and phrase e-mails to the people I want to
keep in touch with.

  I step outside a few times, only to realize that the blizzard has not slowed one bit. I'm met with bitter cold winds and driving snow, while I try to find a spot that has some kind of reception so I can reach my father. The snow is piling up and it looks like the people of Greymeadow have just succumbed to it. There's no one outside, and there’s not a single person or machine even trying to clear the streets or keep the snow in check in some way. They’re just letting it take over, covering the small town in a heavy, thick, white blanket.

  Other than me, Lena and the elderly lady only serve four other people over the course of the day - an older couple that lives right across the street and a mother who drags her son down the street to the diner, because he's spent the afternoon begging for a hot chocolate.

  There's still an hour left on her shift when Lena shows up at my booth. She's still wearing the red dress with the plaid skirt, but she’s gotten rid of the apron and is in the process of wrapping herself up in a heavy down jacket. From the corner of my eye, I can see the older lady, Mrs. Lynn, standing close to the swinging doors to the kitchen, watching us.

  "Ready to go?" Lena asks. "We're closing early today. The snow is supposed to pick up even more, and there's really no point in being here any longer."

  "I've been ready for hours," I answer with a curt smile.

  "Great." She casts me a nervous smile and zips up her jacket.

  "I’m Jason, by the way," I introduce myself, realizing that she doesn’t know my name. "You’re Lena?"

  She looks puzzled when she nods.

  "Yeah, Lena," she utters. "Nice to meet you, Jason. Come on, let’s go. It's just a short walk."

  She beckons me to follow her and I gather up my belongings and throw on my own winter coat, noticing that Mrs. Lynn's eyes never leave us. The expression on her face is friendly when I wave goodbye to her, but it still seems as if she's trying to remind me to be on my best behavior. She knows I'm going to be staying with Lena, and she'll be the first to know if I cause any trouble. The assuring smile on my face is meant to convey that I intend no harm, but I can't be sure that she interprets it that way.