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“Why?”
“One fantasy about you was already more than I could responsibly manage. Now I have two.”
Claire’s gaze held hers. “Tell me the second.”
Erin glanced at the remote in her hand. “You sitting across the room, watching me wonder when you would press that button again.”
“I wouldn’t make you wait too long.”
“Somehow, that isn’t nearly as reassuring as you intended.”
Claire’s smile deepened. “It wasn’t intended to reassure you.”
Erin glanced at the remote. “Would you enjoy that?”
“Watching you wonder when I might turn it on again?” Claire held her gaze. “Very much.”
“And would you let me recover occasionally?”
“Of course. I’m not completely unreasonable, Erin. I would be generous.”
“By giving me breaks?”
Claire’s thumb settled over the button. “By giving you reasons to need them.”
Erin’s breath caught. “That sounds like a promise. I hope you plan to keep it.”
“It is.” Claire closed her fingers around the remote. “Would you trust me to use this?”
“When the road opens?”
“Only when the road opens.”
Erin looked from the remote to Claire’s face. “Yes. I would.”
“Then I’ll keep this and hope the county road crew understands how much is riding on their emergency Christmas shift.”
The road could not open soon enough.
Chapter Eight
The county alert arrived at eleven forty-two. One lane open. Speeds restricted.
Claire read the notification twice while Erin folded one of the emergency blankets. The road was passable. Claire could leave whenever she chose.
She set the phone down on the table.
Erin stacked the blanket on top of the others, straightened, and stretched the stiffness from her shoulders. She looked so beautiful that Claire had to glance toward the window before her expression betrayed what she was not prepared to say aloud.
Beyond the parking lot, sunlight struck the mountainside and turned every surface blinding white. The world outside looked scrubbed clean, almost too peaceful to have stranded them there overnight.
Erin stood at the front windows. A plow had opened a narrow lane through the road, leaving tall banks of snow on either side. “They actually made it through,” she said.
“On Christmas morning.”
Erin nodded. “I hope someone saved them an entire pie.”
Claire had spent hours waiting for that road to reopen. Now that it had, relief refused to come. She glanced at Erin, wondering if she felt the same reluctance. Erin remained beside her at the window, and neither woman seemed prepared to end the morning they had shared.
