her hair got a couple less than that. She used the toilet, even trying to pee quickly.
It was probably less than a minute after he pulled up to her cabin when she ran for the front door, but she could still hear him grumbling on the porch.
“I know! I’m late—sorry!” she babbled as she yanked open the door to find a scowling Callum. He didn’t seem to be focused on her, though.
“What the hell’s on your door?”
Lou blinked at him, confused. That wasn’t the complaint she’d expected. “What?”
“That.” He stabbed a gloved finger toward her opened door, and she followed the gesture to where he was pointing.
“Gross.” Frozen trickles of amber goo ran down the exterior of her door. “What is that?”
He gave her the look . Biting back a sharp comment, she reminded herself not to poke the bear, or it was going to be a long day. Callum was giving up his morning to help her with Operation Identify HDG, after all. “That’s what I asked you,” he said with exaggerated patience.
Instead of shutting the door in his face and immediately returning to bed, she focused on the light brown streaks, poking one with her finger. It was frozen, but still oddly sticky. She smelled her finger.
“Don’t lick it!” Callum grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from her face.
This time, she couldn’t hold back an eye roll. “It’s fine.” Tugging her arm free, she stuck her finger in her mouth just to bug him. “It’s honey,” she mumbled around her fingertip.
Witnessing his horrified and completely grossed-out expression was very satisfying. “You just… I can’t believe you put it in your mouth …”
“What? It’s just honey.” Pulling her finger out of her mouth, she examined it closely. “Besides, doesn’t cold kill germs and bacteria and such?”
“I can’t…” He couldn’t seem to think of anything more to say.
“Get in here.” She grabbed his forearm and pulled him through the doorway. “You’re letting out all the heat.”
He allowed her to tug him inside, and she swung the door closed once he was clear of it. The heat seemed to help him recover from his germ-phobia-induced fugue state. “Why is there honey on your door?”
She shrugged. “No clue.” When he eyed her narrowly, she planted her fists on her hips. “Why would I put honey on my door? That’s crazy!”
“Then who? It couldn’t have just appeared there.”
“I don’t know! Someone who wants to set a trap for Winnie the Pooh? Who puts honey on a door?”
His expression turned thoughtful. “You think someone wanted to attract a bear?”
“No, sorry, that was just a joke. Not one of my best, but then I just woke up about eight minutes ago, so I’m not really on my game yet.”
“You woke up eight minutes ago?” And critical Callum was back.
She sighed. “I had a rough night. I woke up really early because I thought I heard…” Her eyes went wide. “I’m an idiot!” She yanked the door open and hurried outside, ignoring her coatless state. From her perch on the top of her tiny porch, she examined the three steps leading down to the snowy ground.
The wind had blown off most of the light snow from the previous evening, so all that remained on the steps was a dusting of white powder caught in the corners and cracks. She popped back into her cabin to yank on her boots, and then she jumped off the porch into the foot of old snow heaped around the foundation of her home.
“What did you hear last night?” Callum asked, his proximity startling her. She hadn’t realized he was walking next to her as she circled the perimeter of the cabin.
“Nothing. I mean”—she made an impatient gesture—“something woke me, but I don’t remember what it was. I did a tour of the cabin, decided I was paranoid, and went back to bed.” She shivered. “I hope whoever it was wasn’t watching me.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Callum said grimly, pointing toward some impressions in the snow. Her
It was probably less than a minute after he pulled up to her cabin when she ran for the front door, but she could still hear him grumbling on the porch.
“I know! I’m late—sorry!” she babbled as she yanked open the door to find a scowling Callum. He didn’t seem to be focused on her, though.
“What the hell’s on your door?”
Lou blinked at him, confused. That wasn’t the complaint she’d expected. “What?”
“That.” He stabbed a gloved finger toward her opened door, and she followed the gesture to where he was pointing.
“Gross.” Frozen trickles of amber goo ran down the exterior of her door. “What is that?”
He gave her the look . Biting back a sharp comment, she reminded herself not to poke the bear, or it was going to be a long day. Callum was giving up his morning to help her with Operation Identify HDG, after all. “That’s what I asked you,” he said with exaggerated patience.
Instead of shutting the door in his face and immediately returning to bed, she focused on the light brown streaks, poking one with her finger. It was frozen, but still oddly sticky. She smelled her finger.
“Don’t lick it!” Callum grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from her face.
This time, she couldn’t hold back an eye roll. “It’s fine.” Tugging her arm free, she stuck her finger in her mouth just to bug him. “It’s honey,” she mumbled around her fingertip.
Witnessing his horrified and completely grossed-out expression was very satisfying. “You just… I can’t believe you put it in your mouth …”
“What? It’s just honey.” Pulling her finger out of her mouth, she examined it closely. “Besides, doesn’t cold kill germs and bacteria and such?”
“I can’t…” He couldn’t seem to think of anything more to say.
“Get in here.” She grabbed his forearm and pulled him through the doorway. “You’re letting out all the heat.”
He allowed her to tug him inside, and she swung the door closed once he was clear of it. The heat seemed to help him recover from his germ-phobia-induced fugue state. “Why is there honey on your door?”
She shrugged. “No clue.” When he eyed her narrowly, she planted her fists on her hips. “Why would I put honey on my door? That’s crazy!”
“Then who? It couldn’t have just appeared there.”
“I don’t know! Someone who wants to set a trap for Winnie the Pooh? Who puts honey on a door?”
His expression turned thoughtful. “You think someone wanted to attract a bear?”
“No, sorry, that was just a joke. Not one of my best, but then I just woke up about eight minutes ago, so I’m not really on my game yet.”
“You woke up eight minutes ago?” And critical Callum was back.
She sighed. “I had a rough night. I woke up really early because I thought I heard…” Her eyes went wide. “I’m an idiot!” She yanked the door open and hurried outside, ignoring her coatless state. From her perch on the top of her tiny porch, she examined the three steps leading down to the snowy ground.
The wind had blown off most of the light snow from the previous evening, so all that remained on the steps was a dusting of white powder caught in the corners and cracks. She popped back into her cabin to yank on her boots, and then she jumped off the porch into the foot of old snow heaped around the foundation of her home.
“What did you hear last night?” Callum asked, his proximity startling her. She hadn’t realized he was walking next to her as she circled the perimeter of the cabin.
“Nothing. I mean”—she made an impatient gesture—“something woke me, but I don’t remember what it was. I did a tour of the cabin, decided I was paranoid, and went back to bed.” She shivered. “I hope whoever it was wasn’t watching me.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Callum said grimly, pointing toward some impressions in the snow. Her
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