Page 47 of Snowed In with her Mountain Men

CAMRYN

“Crunchy eggs, coming right up!”

Ryder marched proudly back to the stove, as the others exchanged glances that made me chuckle. Jaxon sighed into his coffee and rolled his eyes. Oakley looked downright apologetic.

“Hey…” I whispered, gathering them close. “What’s the secret ingredient he puts in the eggs to make them—”

“Panko bread crumbs,” Jaxon said, without a hitch.

I thought for a long, awkward moment. “Eww.”

“You think that’s bad?” Oakley inquired glibly. “It used to be Grape Nuts.”

I actually winced. “The breakfast cereal ?”

“Yup,” he chuckled. “The breakfast cereal no one likes.”

I giggled. “Is that their slogan?”

“It sure as fuck should be,” Jaxon grumbled.

The grumbling, I knew, was mostly for show — especially on a day like today. The morning had dawned bright and clear, the sun shining with a blinding brilliance that unfrosted the windows, and penetrated our souls.

Outside, it looked like freedom.

The boys had been up well before dawn. They’d cleared and started the Marauder, as well as blasted a path down to the street.

Service had come back, and messages had come through.

Mrs. Veraldi — an elderly widow higher up on the mountain than even us — hadn’t been heard from, and needed checking in on.

Oakley received orders to report in if possible, which they knew he could, and Jaxon was dying to get back into town, for reasons unknown.

“And you’re absolutely sure you want to stay?” Oakley asked me for the third time, stirring his coffee.

Reluctantly, I nodded. “I’m sure. With all the things you need to do, I’d only be in your way right now.”

Jaxon looked disappointed as he absently rubbed his bearded jaw. I winked at him, the both of us sharing the same secret as to why it might be sore.

“Besides, I can get a ton of writing done today,” I affirmed, adding a smile. “Don’t know if you noticed it or not, but you boys can be somewhat… distracting.”

“We can?”

“Oh yeah,” I sighed. “I should’ve gotten a dozen chapters done during this blizzard. Instead… well…”

My writer’s guilt was real, and building day by day. At first it had been easy to ignore, especially in the wake of such incredible company. But I was well behind where I wanted to be, even after the fire. The guilt over my lack of progress was rapidly approaching crushing levels.

“No, it’s cool,” I assured them. “I’ll stay here and keep the fires fed, and the cabin warm. You boys be careful out there, and do what you need to. Say hi to the rest of the world for me. I’ll write my little ass off, and maybe even have dinner ready when you come home.”

“Or maybe we’ll bring back some Luigi’s,” Oakley said, clapping his hands together. “You up for that, Daytona?”

“Pizza!?” My mouth watered instantly. “You think they’ll be open?”

“Luigi’s will be the first place open,” Oakley nodded enthusiastically, “and it’ll be packed with people crawling over the drifts to get there. I’ll grab some calzones, too. And garlic knots. And a few of those pepperoni twist things they make, the ones with—”

The clatter of plates hitting the table ended the conversation. Ryder slid one directly before me and enthusiastically handed me a fork.

“Go on,” he beamed. “Taste it.”

The pale yellow pile in the center of the plate looked like scrambled eggs, but with lumps. Lots of weird, irregularly-shaped lumps.

It was all I could do to keep a straight face.

“There’s plenty more in the pan too, for when you need seconds,” Ryder winked.