She picked up the padded pink bristle brush from the back of the sink and brushed some of the knots out of her hair. In spite of whatever other flaws she might have, she couldn’t deny her beautiful red hair. Or how proud she felt when others admired it. Coming from an Irish family, Jennifer wore her tresses like a badge of pride. The only bit of heritage she had to cling to.
And she didn’t completely mind that guys seemed attracted to the redhead working at the diner. As embarrassing as it was to admit, she’d used her looks to get better tips on more than one occasion.
Not that she gave the men anything in return; one man in particular had ruined her generosity toward all men, but perhaps Mark could help win it back. She smiled at the thought. He made her imagine what it could be like to meet a nice guy. To be touched by him, to touch him in return.
She imagined his lips on her mouth and his hands in her long hair. Strong arms pulling her against him, holding her, hands leaving trails of heat as they inched their way up her legs. Her body flushed at her thoughts and she decided it would be best to go do something...anything, before her imagination got too out of control.
She remembered seeing a bookshelf in the corner of the living room. Behind all the knick-knacks, Ruth had a collection of at least ten or twelve books. Jennifer smiled at the meager selection. She’d left home at sixteen and hadn’t finished high school, but she’d always loved to read.
Her apartment, consequently, was covered in books. Judging from Ruth’s collection, Jennifer decided Mark’s grandmother must like to read about what the modern woman wanted. She took down a book titled Spontaneous Women, and How They Live. Probably the book that got Ruth into traveling in the first place. The sun peeked through the clouds as Jennifer settled onto the couch to read.
Several hours later she woke when Sophie rubbed against her foot. Apparently Spontaneous Women wasn’t an attention-grabbing leisure book. Jennifer stretched. The chill of the apartment left her nose cold and her fingers tingly. And she felt hungry. Famished, actually. It was hard to decide which felt worse, the biting cold or her gnawing hunger.
She looked back toward the bedroom where Mark slept. In spite of her discomfort she really didn’t want to wake him just yet. He hadn’t explained what medical emergency happened the night before, but it’d kept him out all night. Plus, he’d walked through the snow to get back home. He deserved a little rest after all that.
Instead, she pushed back her cover and got up to look out the window. The steadily falling snow had removed all traces of life from the streets. In the few years she’d spent in New Hope, she could not remember a blizzard quite like this.
****
Mark tried to kick out from under the burrito wrap of the blanket. He couldn’t remember pulling it over himself, but then again, he’d been so exhausted he couldn’t be certain he’d remember his own name if someone asked. His mind went to Jennifer as he pulled some clothes from his bag.
Rubbing his eyes he padded barefoot over the carpet and out of the room. Jennifer stood by the window; she apparently hadn’t heard him come down the hall. He still felt exhausted from the past few sleepless nights, but seeing her helped revive him in a way coffee had never managed to. “It’s cold in here; I’m glad you changed.”
Jennifer jumped at the sound of his voice and spun from the window. “Excuse me?”
When he’d first walked into the room the only thing he saw was Jennifer leaning over the window slightly. Just enough to cause the pants—his pants, as if it would have escaped his notice—to pull tight around her cute little derrière. He imagined walking behind her and pulling her close. Nuzzling against her neck, maybe seeing how good it felt to be so close to her. But he couldn’t do that. She’d put her safety into his hands. He couldn’t risk the little trust he’d earned by trying to put a move on her.
But Lord! he wanted to.
“My pants,” Mark started again, “I’m glad you decided to get into my pants.”
Jennifer’s face turned red. “I-I—”
“No, let me say that again. It’s cold in here. I’m glad you changed out of that ridiculous skirt and into something warmer.”
Her face relaxed as she smiled. That smile could have melted all the snow had she just pointed it in the right direction. Maybe his flirting was better than his jokes. Her entire demeanor changed. Relaxed. She still looked a little tired but not as worn out. To his mind, she looked sexy as hell.
“I’m hungry,” he said suddenly. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning and it’s...” he looked down at his watch, “two o’clock now. What about you, are you hungry?”