My Kind of Christmas (Virgin River #20)(21)

He was afraid he never would.

She stood up and he stood. She reached for her jacket and he said, “I think I should drive you. Or at least follow you home.”

“Why?” she said, slipping into her jacket.

“I’m a little nervous about you going out to an isolated cabin in the woods by yourself.”

She laughed a little. “Okay, think about this. I just told you I was planning to go dig wells in India or administer immunizations in Africa and you’re worried about me driving fifteen or twenty minutes across the mountain to a lovely little cabin? Relax, Patrick.”

“What if you miss a couple of turnoffs?” he asked.

“I know where they are now,” she said. “Take it easy.”

She walked to his door and he was right behind her. When she opened the door, they were greeted by a fresh snowfall—just a couple of inches.

She turned back and smiled at him. “I’ll go slow. Try not to act like my uncle Jack.”

“Wait,” he said. “Wait right here.” He went to the desk in the corner and jotted down the phone number at the cabin. He took her a slip of paper. “You’re going to have to call me. If you don’t, I’ll call Jack and track you down.”

“I’d scold you for that, but I don’t mind that you’re a little protective. I’d hate a steady diet of overprotective, but that little bit just now wasn’t too bad.

“Now I’m going to drive slow, then I’m going to build my fire because I haven’t turned the heat on, so it’ll be a while.”

“Just call.”

“You bet.” She started to walk toward her SUV, then turned back. “I liked the chili, Patrick. But that isn’t why I came tonight.”

He smiled at her, watched her leave and thought, I am so screwed.

* * *

While he waited for her phone call, Patrick thought about how awesome she was. He couldn’t get involved, but she was a more than welcome distraction. He opened a beer and his mind began to wander. He thought about her beauty, her sexiness. Then he began to pace because she hadn’t called yet, rehearsing what he would say to Jack, how he was going to explain that he needed directions to that little cabin because he had to go looking for her.

Angela and I had a perfectly nice, platonic evening of Scrabble and chili and I let her drive herself home even though… Yes, Scrabble and chili… No, of course we didn’t have sex.… No, of course I wasn’t tempted, she’s much too young!

The phone rang before he could rehearse any more mental lies. He grabbed it as if it were a lifeline. “Hello?”

“That t-took a little longer than I thought it would,” Angie said.

“Are your teeth chattering?” he asked.

“A l-l-little. The cabin was so dark—I should’ve left on a light. There was a moon when I left but the snow clouds came in. I had to l-leave the car running with the lights on t-till I could get inside and light the p-place up. I gave the horn a toot in case any nocturnal animals were visiting.”

He laughed. “I think you know everything. Did you build your fire?”

“And put on my warmest pajamas, which was torture. It’s no fun getting undressed in the cold. The quilt was still on the couch from last night. It’s finally starting to warm up in here.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her. He assumed she would be as adorable in footie pajamas as naked. Okay, not quite, but still… The combination of the warm fire and heavy quilt seemed to be working, since her teeth had stopped chattering. “Are you settled in now?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll move from this spot before morning. Except maybe to feed the fire a log or two.”

“Angie, there’s heat in the cabin, isn’t there?”

“Sure. But this is fun. Reminds me…when I was in college a bunch of us rented a cabin for skiing and it was so expensive we just assumed we’d have heat, maybe even catering! We managed the puniest fire and had to sleep snuggled up against one another right in front of it.”

He settled onto his own couch, chuckling into the phone. “I lived for nights like that. Did you fall in love?”

“Sadly, no, as I’m straight—it was a girls’ trip.”

“If only I could’ve helped. Who was your first love?”

“I think Dick, my junior year in high school, and he was a dick, as it turns out. We were kind of steady and he asked someone else to the prom. At the last minute. I think he forgot to break up with me first. I should’ve known he was shifty.”

“Who took you to the prom?”

“I never went to one. I was a nerd who always envied the cheerleaders, pom-pom girls and stars in the school musicals. I was president of the debate team, a great chess player and went to the scholastic Olympics. I bet you went to proms.”

“I did.”

“With cheerleaders and pom-pom girls?” she asked.

He was embarrassed to say. “It’s different for guys. They don’t feel the same way about proms that girls do. Girls see it as a chance to feel like a princess. Guys see it as a chance to have sex.”

“Did you? Have sex?”

“No. I clearly wasted my money.... But you should have gone to proms. You’re pretty.”