Melody Anne - Baby, It’s Cold Outside

“Ah, Grace, you’re taking me with you, love. Fucking hell, I’m coming.” With a growl, he rests his forehead on mine and clenches his eyes shut as he finds his own release.

“I’m so happy that you came to find me, Jacob.”

“Always, darling.” He kisses my cheek and smiles down at me. “Shall we continue our lesson in the bedroom?”

“Aye, we shall.”

Seven months later . . .

How was your last day of class, darling?” Jacob meets me outside of the lodge and hugs me as soon as I climb out of my new car. He said that I needed a new one, and surprised me with it last month.

I kept insisting the one I had was fine, but when the battery died for the fourth time, he insisted.

And I must admit, it’s not bad driving a Lexus. It’s quite nice, actually.

“It was . . . long.” I laugh and hug him back as he lifts me up off my feet and kisses me soundly. “I’m ready for summer.”

“Excellent. You can move in with me now.”

I shake my head and prop my hands on my hips, but he pretends he doesn’t see it and leads me through the lobby of the lodge, past a waving Jeanette, to his suite.

“We’ve talked about this, Jacob. I’m not ready to move in together. It’s only been seven months.”

“That’s plenty of time for me to know that I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to live up here with me.”

My heart stills and then picks up double time as it always does when he tells me he loves me. It never fails to surprise me.

“I love you, too, you know that.”

“Brilliant. I’ll arrange for the movers.”

“You’ll do no such thing!”

“Jesus, Gracie, just bloody marry me so we can move past this ridiculous argument and we can stop hopping from one house to the other every fucking night!”

I stand and stare at him and then laugh myself silly. “And I thought I was the klutz.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“That was the clumsiest marriage proposal I’ve ever heard!”

He swears under his breath, props his hands on his hips, and hangs his head before looking up at me. “You’re a stubborn woman.”

“How can you be so sure?” I ask softly.

“Sure about what?” He takes my hand and guides me into the living room, sits in a brown leather overstuffed chair, and tugs me into his lap. “Talk to me, Gracie.”

“How do you know for sure that I’m the one you want?”

“I’m not going to get angry about that statement because I know that your parents did a number on you and I love you so much it makes me ache. But I’ll not have you ever repeat that again, love. Do you think this happens to me every day?”

“I think that women—”

“Fuck the women, Grace. I haven’t looked at another woman since the day you fell at my feet and charmed me off of mine. I don’t give two shits about any other woman. It’s only you. And I’m telling you, I’m promising you, it will only ever be you.”

My eyes fill with tears at the fierce determination in his face, in the way he’s holding me so tightly against him, as if I might jump up and run away.

“I love you so much that the thought of ever losing you brings me to my knees,” I whisper. “It scares me.”

“Ah, darling.” He kisses my temple and rests his forehead against my own. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m yours until my last breath, I promise you that.” He pushes his hand into his pocket and pulls out a ring, not in a box, just an amazing round solitaire the size of my fist. “I was going to do this in a more romantic setting, but it seems this is our moment. Please, Grace Elaine Douglas, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

He wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs and waits patiently for my answer.

“Of course.”

“Thank Christ.” He slips the ring on my finger and lifts me off the chair, walking swiftly toward the bedroom.

“Where are you taking me?”

“I’m in the mood to demonstrate how much I love my new fiancée.” He grins down at me as he lays me on the bed.

“Jolly good!” I cry and laugh with him as he covers my body with his.

“You’ll get it eventually, love.”

Can you believe that Edna took off like that?”

“What do you expect, Bethel? Her grandbaby needed her,” Eileen replied.

“I know. I know. But the Christmas pageant is coming and it just won’t be the same without her,” Bethel said.

“Yes, of course, but don’t you see the opportunity this presents?”

Both women turned to look at their friend Maggie, whose grin ran from ear to ear. The three women were thought to be in their sixties, but no one knew for sure—they guarded their age more securely than Fort Knox guarded its gold.

“What do you mean?” they asked in unison.

“We don’t get too many new people here in town,” Maggie told them. “Hawk’s been single for long enough. Now that my boy Bryson has gotten married and settled down, I’m more than ready to see the same happen for Hawk.”

“Ooh, I like your thinking, Maggie,” Bethel said, her eyes twinkling with understanding.

“So, we just need to find an . . . appropriate teacher,” Eileen said with a giggle.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Bethel burbled. “I’m so glad to be on the school board, so we have the task of finding Edna’s replacement.”

“Did they include photographs with the résumés?” Maggie asked.

“Sure did!” Eileen told them as she flipped open her laptop.

“Shouldn’t we bring Martin in on this?” Eileen asked quietly, and a slight blush tinged her cheeks.

Bethel and Maggie knew that something was happening between their friend and town businessman Martin Whitman, but they weren’t about to call Eileen out on it.

“We will . . . eventually,” Bethel said. “But not right now. This girl needs to be for Hawk. Martin would try to steal her away for one of his four boys.”

“Well, we need to find some women for those ornery sons of his, too,” Maggie chimed in.

“Let’s just focus on one kid at a time,” said Bethel, always the logical one. “Besides, I already have plans brewing for my granddaughter Sage and one of the Whitman boys. As soon as she’s done with medical school . . .”

Maggie’s eyes widened. “Oh, do tell.”

“Now’s not the time.” Bethel said, clicking through the résumés. “Girls, I think we have a winner!”

The other two women leaned over, and then all three of them smiled as they read about Natalie Duncan, who was seeking work as an elementary-school teacher.

“I think you might just be right,” Maggie said.

Poor Natalie had no idea what she was about to step into . . .

Her heels clicking on the hard tile floor of the airport, Natalie Duncan smiled and popped a Hershey’s Kiss into her mouth. Her first teaching job! It was a dream come true. Four years of college, thousands of study hours, even more volunteer hours, a teaching internship at a beautiful elementary school in sunny LA, and she had finally received the call she’d been waiting for.

Sure, it was November, and sure, she’d been called only because another teacher was going through some sort of family emergency and had to leave the state suddenly, but Natalie was still stoked. She’d been the one the school had called. She was the one who would be stepping into her very own classroom come Monday morning.

The small town of Sterling, Montana, wasn’t exactly where she’d wanted to begin her career, but it was a job teaching what she loved. This was only a stepping-stone.

Wholly unaware of the masculine eyes that were following her in her sharp blue pencil skirt and four-inch heels, Natalie pressed forward. With her slim five-foot-three-inch frame and her fiery red hair, green eyes, and full lips, she was made to turn heads. The thing was, Natalie wasn’t looking for male attention. She had plans. She had goals. And men were far down on her list of priorities. After all, she was only twenty-three. Work first. Marriage and family later.

A smile flitted across her lips as she thought about her life fifteen years down the road. She’d have a white picket fence and one girl and one boy running through the sprinkler on a nice, hot day while she sat next to her husband and enjoyed the successes of her life.

Wrapped up in her fantasy future, Natalie stepped through the airport doors buzzing with excitement and a huge smile plastered on her face, which vanished in an instant when the biting Montana wind slapped her in the face.

“What the hell?”

Her voice came out choked as she struggled to regain the breath that had been sucked from her.

She’d been born and raised in Southern California, and was in no way ready for this sort of weather. She’d been so excited over receiving the job she hadn’t even thought to research what climate she was stepping into. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Running back inside she gulped warm air into her frozen lungs.

“Okay. You can do this,” she told herself as she looked down scathingly at her completely inefficient shoes. “Heels? What was I thinking?” Heels and sexy lingerie were her concessions to blatant femininity. Otherwise she wore beige and dark colors, and downplayed what she’d been blessed with.

Raising her head, she studied the people passing her by. None of them were wearing heels and a skirt. No. They were clad in warm boots, thick coats, and trousers. She threw her suitcases a disgusted look as it dawned on her that she’d have little choice but to spend some of her precious savings on warmer clothing.