SNOWED IN (Complete)

Chapter Four

CONFUSED AND ASHAMED BY my impulsive behavior, I stepped back.

"Sorry!" he said. "It's not you—it's the oven." He quickly grabbed the pot holder and pulled open the oven door.

Smoke billowed out. Colton fanned the smoke as I ran to open the nearest window.

A rush of cold air entered the kitchen as Colton waved the pot holder back and forth in front of the oven. He reached up and turned the oven off.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized. "I-I got distracted."

The shame melted away, and I burst into laughter. Colton joined in.

"I thought you said you were a good cook?" I asked, giggling uncontrollably.

Leaving the oven door ajar, Colton scrunched his nose and shook his head. "I swear I've never burned anything in my life."

My ribs hurt from all the laughing, but I didn't care. I hadn't laughed like that in ages.

The smoke cleared out, and Colton fished the burnt bread out of the oven. He tossed it into the sink before cocking his head to the side. "Well, that was pretty embarrassing."

"It's okay," I said with a grin.

Colton shivered and rubbed his arms.

Realizing just how cold it had become, I quickly shut the window. "Seventy degrees isn't sounding too bad right now, is it?"

Colton laughed, his dimples on full display. "Fair enough." He looked down, checking his watch. "The pasta will be done in three minutes. What are the odds I can finish the sauce without causing another catastrophe?"

I shrugged. "Slim to none?"

He grinned. "Very funny."

I watched as he turned around and grabbed the jar of spaghetti sauce. Dumping the jar's contents into the mixture of sautéed vegetables, he stirred everything together. His jeans hung perfectly on his hips, and his T-shirt clung to his trim torso.

I shook my head. What was I doing? I'd just met this guy, and I was already kissing him. The memory of his lips touching mine made my knees feel like jelly.

Colton stirred the sauce a few times before draining the water from the pot holding the pasta. In one fluid movement, he dumped the sauce into the pot then stirred.

"And voilà!" he cried.

"I'll grab plates and silverware."

A few moments later, Colton piled two servings onto the plates and brought them over to the small kitchen table.

"Do you want some grape juice?" I asked. "Or I can open the wine? I mean, I can't have any yet, but feel free to have some."

"Juice is fine," said Colton.

I poured two glasses and set the bottle on the table.

"Cheers," said Colton.

I raised my glass and clinked it against his.

Carefully twirling the spaghetti with a fork and spoon, I lifted the first bite to my mouth. I blew on it and tasted. "Mmmmm!"

Colton winked. "Good?"

"Delicious," I said with a mouthful of pasta. Realizing what I had just done, I tried to cover my mouth with my hand.

"It's okay, you can fangirl over my food," chuckled Colton.

My stomach growled. "Man, I didn't realize I was this hungry. Thank you again for making dinner."

Colton nodded with a mouthful of food. "Welcome."