Snowbound with the Boss(2)

Sean glared at his brother as annoyance sharpened his tone. “Is that a cappuccino? You bastard.”

Mike grinned and took a longer drink. “I’ll enjoy it for you.”

“Thanks.” The sarcasm was thick, but he knew Mike didn’t care. Why the hell would he? Sean wondered. His older brother was at home in Long Beach with access to their favorite coffee shop, the bar down the street, ocean views and, most importantly, Mike wasn’t freezing his ass off.

Damn, Sean missed civilization. Shaking his head, he said, “Kate thinks we should put in some small cabins, behind the main lodge, staggered back into the forest. Give people more privacy, a sense of being out in the wild...”

Mike nodded, thinking about it. “It’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Yet you don’t look happy about it.”

“Because she was so damn sure she was right,” Sean told him, remembering the conversation from the day before. Kate had had him trudging through snow to inspect the property and the areas she’d already selected for possible cabin sites.

As she’d laid it out for him, he could see it as it would be. Small cabins tucked into the woods would feed in to the fantasy of the place, and he was already considering how they could make each of the cottages different, give them each an identity that would be separate from the rest.

It irritated him, too, that he’d never considered anything like she was suggesting. But damn if the idea hadn’t hit home with him. The fact that Kate had come up with it was annoying, but Sean was smart enough to know a good idea when he heard it.

“Yeah,” Mike mused. “It’s a pain when they’re right, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea,” Sean muttered.

“I think I do.” Mike took another deliberate sip of his cappuccino. “Sounds like you’re having a great time.”

Sean’s eyes narrowed into slits. He’d have given his car for a hot cappuccino at that very moment. Just another irritation piled on top of everything else. “Yeah, it’s a laugh riot. This woman is the most hardheaded person I’ve ever dealt with and that includes you.”

Mike shrugged. “As long as she does good work, that’s all you should care about.”

His brother was right. That was all he should care about. But it wasn’t. Instead, Sean was thinking about her hair, how thick and dark it was, and he couldn’t help wondering what it would look like freed from its constant ponytail. He thought about the summer blue of her eyes and the way her tool belt hung low around curvy hips. He hated admitting it even to himself, but whenever she talked, he was so focused on her mouth, he hardly heard what she was saying.

Damn, he had to get out of Wyoming, fast.

Sean scrubbed one hand across his face and focused on the conversation with Mike. “Yeah, yeah. She wants to get her crew in here next week and start in on the rehab, and I don’t see a problem with it.” He paused and ran one finger around the collar of his black sweater. “As long as I can oversee it from California.”

“Okay, but since you didn’t take any of the artists with you, what’ll she do about the painting we’ll need done?”

“Come on,” Sean said sharply, “I couldn’t bring an artist out here when everyone’s doing the final run on ‘The Wild Hunt.’”

“True,” Mike agreed. “Everyone here’s working around the clock.”

And Sean should have been. He had to connect with marketing and their clients, check the advertising that was lined up to push the new video game once it was released. Work was piling up for him in California, but he’d had to come out here to get the reno started since he had such a fiery contractor eager for the work to begin. This trip had been bad timing all the way around, really. Every artist at Celtic Knot was focused on the finishing touches of the video game that would be released in the summer, so he hadn’t been able to justify pulling them away from their work yet.

“Anyway,” Sean continued, “how hard is it to leave walls blank? They can paint it white or something and then when we bring the artists in, they’ll have a blank canvas to work on.”

“That’ll work. You still coming home tomorrow?”

“That’s the plan, thank God,” Sean said. “Kate’s outside, bringing her truck around. We’re going to head back to town now. Naturally, it’s still snowing.”

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s seventy-five here today.”

“Great. Thanks. That just caps it.” A door slammed at the front of the hotel. Kate called out something, and Sean looked to one side and shouted, “What?”

In the next second, Kate was standing in the doorway, shaking her head to send a flurry of fresh snowflakes flying to the floor. “A blizzard’s headed in,” she said simply.

He covered the phone with his hand. “You’re kidding.”

“No joke,” she said, shrugging. “The pass is already closed. We’re not going anywhere.”

“For how long?” he demanded.

There was that shrug again. “No way to know.”

“Perfect.”

“What is it?” Mike asked.

“Karma probably,” Sean told him, expressing his disgust. “Kate just heard on the truck radio that the pass down the mountain is closed. I’m snowed in.”

Instead of sympathy, Sean watched as Mike unsuccessfully fought back laughter at the situation.

“Thanks for your concern.”

Mike held up one hand and tried to stop laughing. “Sorry, sorry.”

“How is this funny?” Sean snapped. “I’m trapped in an empty hotel with a crabby contractor and a mountain of snow outside the door.”

“Clearly,” Mike said finally, “it’s only funny from California. But have you got food, heat?”

“We’re covered,” Kate said, her expression telling him exactly what she thought of the description crabby.

“Yeah,” Sean said, then he turned to Kate. “Come here for a minute. Meet my brother.”

She didn’t look happy with the invitation—no surprise there, Sean thought. The woman had a chip on her shoulder the size of a redwood. She walked briskly across the room and stopped beside him to look at the phone screen.

“Hi, I’m Kate and you’re Mike,” she said, words tumbling over each other. She spared a quick glance for Sean. “Nice to meet you, but we don’t have a lot of time to talk. There’s firewood outside, we need to bring it in before the rest of the storm hits. Don’t worry, though. There’s plenty of food since I make sure my crew is fed while they work and we’ve been out here this last week taking measurements and getting ideas about the work.”

“Okay.” Mike threw that word in fast, thinking he probably wouldn’t have another chance to speak. He was right.

“The storm’ll blow through in a day or two and the plows will have the pass cleared out pretty quickly, so you can have your brother back by the end of the week.”

“Okay...”

Sean grabbed the phone and told Kate, “I’ll be right there to help. Yeah. Okay.” When he looked back at Mike, he was shaking his head. “She’s outside bringing in firewood. I’ve gotta go. And I was this close—” he held up two fingers just a breath apart “—from getting outta Dodge. Now I don’t know when I’ll get out. Tell Mom not to worry and don’t bother calling me. I’m going to shut off the cell phone, conserve power.”

“Okay.” In spite of the fact that he’d been amused only a few minutes ago by Sean’s situation, now Mike asked, “You sure you’ll be all right?”

Sean laughed now. “I’m the outdoors guy, remember? There may not be any waves to surf out here, but I’ll be fine. I’ve been camping in worse situations than I’ve got here. At least we have a roof and plenty of beds to choose from. I’ll call when I can. Just keep a cappuccino hot for me.”

“I will. And Sean,” Mike added, “don’t kill the contractor.”

Killing her wasn’t what he had in mind, but he wasn’t going to admit that to his brother. So instead, Sean said, “I make no promises.”

* * *

When he hung up and shut off his phone, Sean walked across the room in the direction Kate had disappeared. Damn woman could have waited a minute, he told himself, shaking his head as irritation spiked. He’d already spent a week with her and was walking the ragged edge of control. Now he was going to be snowed in with her for who knew how long.

“This just keeps getting better,” he muttered.

He walked through a kitchen that was big enough for their needs but would need some serious renovation. His quick glance covered the amenities he’d already noted earlier in the week. A long, butcher-block island in the middle of the huge room. More of the same counters ringing the perimeter, broken only by an eight-burner stove and a refrigerator that was both gigantic and ancient. The walls were white, yellowed with time and smoke, and the floor was a checkerboard linoleum with chipped-out and missing sections.

The windows were great and normally offered a view of the nearby forest. At the moment, the wide expanse of sky was a dull gray and snow was spitting down thickly enough to resemble a sheet of cotton. The back door was open and led into what Kate had earlier called the mudroom—basically a service porch area with several washers and dryers and a place to stow coats and boots.