dumplings?
“Hattie sent that over,” Caleb said, startling Snow into dropping the lid with a clang.
She looked up to find him standing in the doorway to her bedroom wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. Her heart rate skipped to double time as heat danced up her spine.
“You talked to Hattie?” she asked, struggling to keep her eyes above his chin.
“Spent the day with her,” he said. Noticing he was dripping on the carpet, he added, “Hold on. I need another towel.”
You need to get some freaking clothes on, Snow thought, leaning on the counter for support. Her knees didn’t seem up to the task of keeping her upright. Closing her eyes tight, she mumbled, “I can do this. Just stay strong, Snow. Stay strong.”
The words weren’t really helping, but she repeated them silently all the same. Caleb emerged from the bedroom once again, this time with another towel around his neck that he was using to squeeze the water from his hair.
“That’s an interesting landlady you have there,” he said, crossing to the counter as if he weren’t half-naked and they were some happily married couple who did this every day.
“Landlady?” Snow asked, her brain not functioning on all cylinders.
Caleb retrieved a glass from the second shelf. “Miss Hattie. The woman in the big house attached to this one?”
“Right,” Snow said, stepping into the small living room in the hopes that more distance between them would cool her awakened libido. “Miss Hattie.” The distance helped enough for his previous statement to sink in. “Wait. You spent the day with Miss Hattie?”
“Not voluntarily,” he said, pouring himself a large glass of milk. “Not at first, anyway.”
Snow removed her coat and threw it over the back of a chair. “Are you saying my landlady forced you to spend time with her? I find that hard to believe.”
Hattie Silvester, as far as Snow knew, had little time or patience for the males of the species. Why Caleb, a complete stranger, would be an exception to the rule was beyond Snow. She could see a younger woman fawning over his pretty face, but not Miss Hattie.
“ Forced isn’t the word I’d use. More like . . . steamrolled.” Caleb flexed his shoulders, which caused the towel to dip half an inch lower on his hips.
Snow’s mouth went dry.
“She caught me in the driveway when I came back after dropping you off,” he said, “and the next thing I knew, I was hauling paint cans and canvases up and down her stairs.”
None of this was making sense. The part about Hattie steamrolling someone computed just fine, but Caleb? And him doing manual labor? There was no way. Then again, maybe if the man in her kitchen would put on some clothes, Snow could think straight.
“Did you tell her who you are?” Snow asked.
“About that,” Caleb said after taking a drink of the milk. “We need to get this story straight. I don’t like lying to people, especially not someone like the nice old lady next door.”
Oh no. “What did you tell her?” Snow demanded, charging back into the kitchen.
“Relax,” he said, setting his glass on the counter. “I said I was your fiancé, but then she asked since when. I panicked and said two weeks.”
If he hadn’t insisted they include the engagement part, the time frame wouldn’t be an issue. “What did Hattie say?”
Caleb crossed his arms as he leaned a hip on the counter. “She did the math and assumed I’d asked you to marry me over the phone or e-mail.”
“This is a complete mess,” Snow said.
“I fixed it,” he argued, holding his hands up in front of him. “I told her I hadn’t done the official down-on-one-knee proposal thing yet because I don’t have a ring.”
Snow tapped her foot against the weight of mounting lies. The life she’d built was being twisted into some crazy work of fiction. How was she going to unravel all the lies after Caleb left? Would she even remember them all?
“You need to go,” she said, panic
“Hattie sent that over,” Caleb said, startling Snow into dropping the lid with a clang.
She looked up to find him standing in the doorway to her bedroom wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. Her heart rate skipped to double time as heat danced up her spine.
“You talked to Hattie?” she asked, struggling to keep her eyes above his chin.
“Spent the day with her,” he said. Noticing he was dripping on the carpet, he added, “Hold on. I need another towel.”
You need to get some freaking clothes on, Snow thought, leaning on the counter for support. Her knees didn’t seem up to the task of keeping her upright. Closing her eyes tight, she mumbled, “I can do this. Just stay strong, Snow. Stay strong.”
The words weren’t really helping, but she repeated them silently all the same. Caleb emerged from the bedroom once again, this time with another towel around his neck that he was using to squeeze the water from his hair.
“That’s an interesting landlady you have there,” he said, crossing to the counter as if he weren’t half-naked and they were some happily married couple who did this every day.
“Landlady?” Snow asked, her brain not functioning on all cylinders.
Caleb retrieved a glass from the second shelf. “Miss Hattie. The woman in the big house attached to this one?”
“Right,” Snow said, stepping into the small living room in the hopes that more distance between them would cool her awakened libido. “Miss Hattie.” The distance helped enough for his previous statement to sink in. “Wait. You spent the day with Miss Hattie?”
“Not voluntarily,” he said, pouring himself a large glass of milk. “Not at first, anyway.”
Snow removed her coat and threw it over the back of a chair. “Are you saying my landlady forced you to spend time with her? I find that hard to believe.”
Hattie Silvester, as far as Snow knew, had little time or patience for the males of the species. Why Caleb, a complete stranger, would be an exception to the rule was beyond Snow. She could see a younger woman fawning over his pretty face, but not Miss Hattie.
“ Forced isn’t the word I’d use. More like . . . steamrolled.” Caleb flexed his shoulders, which caused the towel to dip half an inch lower on his hips.
Snow’s mouth went dry.
“She caught me in the driveway when I came back after dropping you off,” he said, “and the next thing I knew, I was hauling paint cans and canvases up and down her stairs.”
None of this was making sense. The part about Hattie steamrolling someone computed just fine, but Caleb? And him doing manual labor? There was no way. Then again, maybe if the man in her kitchen would put on some clothes, Snow could think straight.
“Did you tell her who you are?” Snow asked.
“About that,” Caleb said after taking a drink of the milk. “We need to get this story straight. I don’t like lying to people, especially not someone like the nice old lady next door.”
Oh no. “What did you tell her?” Snow demanded, charging back into the kitchen.
“Relax,” he said, setting his glass on the counter. “I said I was your fiancé, but then she asked since when. I panicked and said two weeks.”
If he hadn’t insisted they include the engagement part, the time frame wouldn’t be an issue. “What did Hattie say?”
Caleb crossed his arms as he leaned a hip on the counter. “She did the math and assumed I’d asked you to marry me over the phone or e-mail.”
“This is a complete mess,” Snow said.
“I fixed it,” he argued, holding his hands up in front of him. “I told her I hadn’t done the official down-on-one-knee proposal thing yet because I don’t have a ring.”
Snow tapped her foot against the weight of mounting lies. The life she’d built was being twisted into some crazy work of fiction. How was she going to unravel all the lies after Caleb left? Would she even remember them all?
“You need to go,” she said, panic
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