since nothing happened. Just a nice night by the fire and Nate’s confession, which made him leave two seconds after he’d said it.
Oh no, what if things are super awkward now?
Before she figured out what exactly to say to Mom, she needed to find out where she and Nate stood, so she sent the message, ending with TTYL, and eyed the door.
I’ll just go out and act totally normal. We’ll talk game plan, and I’ll figure out how I can get to Kentucky.
Suddenly going out there, though, where she didn’t know which Nate she’d be faced with, seemed too intimidating. Would he be super serious today? Would he still joke with her? She hated the thought of going back to strained interactions, so she stalled, hitting the shower first.
By the time she headed into the living room, her head was at least clear. But so was the house.
Kelsey followed the scent of coffee and poured herself a mug. The door opened a moment later, sending an icy gust over her, and Nate walked in, covered in snow. His cheeks and nose were red and a black beanie covered his head—it drew her focus to his bright hazel eyes and his strong jaw. Then she was noticing how he took up the doorway with his height and broad shoulders, a body built from long hours of manual labor. Coffee dripped from the mug she’d forgotten she was holding and she quickly righted it.
“Morning,” he said as he shook out of his coat.
“Morning.” She wanted to add something else, but asking if it was cold outside was all that came to mind, and it was pretty obvious it was.
“So…” He glanced over his shoulder at the window on the door and, from the set of his chin, she felt as though she should brace herself for bad news. “The roads are still closed. They sent up plows, but the wind is blowing like mad, creating total whiteout conditions and pushing the snow right back onto the road. Town’s all closed up, too, and everyone’s been advised to stay indoors.”
“So the first thing you did was go outside? I thought you were a rule follower?”
He cracked a smile, and it brought out the indentations in his cheeks and the adorable crinkles around his eyes. “Had to make sure the cows were okay.” His smile faded and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m afraid you’re stuck here. At least one more day from the looks of it.”
Though she’d suspected as much when she’d seen the blanket of snow out her window, the news still made her stomach drop. She’d envisioned a holiday of baking with Mom, catching up on all the time they’d missed. With their hectic schedules and the states between them, it’d been six months since they’d seen each other, and it felt like they were very, very far away.
“Sorry,” Nate said. “I can tell you’re disappointed.”
“No,” she said, and he cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, I am a little disappointed. It’s not because I have to be here with you” —there was a weird beat as she met his eyes— “I just envisioned my Christmas vacation going differently. But I’m glad I’m not stuck in a hotel somewhere, with no one to talk to. That’d be really lonely and totally sad.”
She thought of his lack of Christmas tree, of how silent the house was this morning. She wondered if Nate ever got lonely, or if he preferred the quiet.
“Well, I did pick you up something when I was over at my parents’ place. You don’t have to use them, but if you want…” Nate dug into his coat pocket, pulled out a yellow bag, and stuck it in front of her on the counter.
Chocolate chips. A tight band formed around her chest. She’d rambled on and on about making cookies last night, and this morning she’d gotten that text from Mom reminding her of what she was missing. That bag was so much more than delicious little pieces of chocolate. It was part of her holiday traditions, and she couldn’t believe he’d thought of bringing them for her.
Nate scuffed the floor with his shoe, his eyes focused on the motion. “I should