A Timeless Romance Anthology: Spring Vacation Collection (32 page)

“These are good,” I admitted grudgingly.

Kevin smiled. “Well, they’re not fish, but they’re better than nothing.”

Now I knew what was happening here. He must have known that I’d be hungry and trapped. He knew how much I loved fish; he was doing this to torture me. He’d hoard the fish until I begged. “I suppose we can eat the fish for breakfast instead,” I said, aiming for an airiness that said I didn’t care one way or the other.

He took a few gulps of milk. “If you catch some, that would be great.”

My mouth dropped open. “You didn’t catch any fish?”

Kevin occupied himself with buttering his toast.

“Mr. I’m-not-coming-in-until-I-catch-something-because-I-am-The-Fish-Whisperer-Barnes came home empty handed?” This was too priceless.

“Hey, we’re eating, aren’t we? I provided this meal.”

“Tell me, what kind of bait did you use to catch this bacon?”

“Look at the weather out there. I can’t help it if the fish are still asleep.”

“A little snow never stopped you before.”

“Go on, then. You go catch something.”

“Maybe I will.”

He hooted. “If I didn’t catch anything, you sure as heck won’t.”

I gave him what I hoped was a mysterious smile. “We’ll see.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? A more evolved woman wouldn’t tease me about something about an obviously a painful subject.”

“I hope I never get
that
evolved.”

* * *

It was almost eleven by the time we finished dinner. I couldn’t believe it was so late. Kevin must have been out there trying to get a fish way past dark. Stubborn man.

“You look tired,” he said.

“No more tired than you.”

“I guess it’s time for bed. Did you bring extra blankets? Because I’d be willing to loan you one of mine.”

I didn’t bring a jacket, and the man was asking if I’d thought to bring extra blankets? “There’s a quilt on the bed. I don’t need any extra blankets.”

“Are you sure? I can start a fire if you want.”

A fire sounded lovely, but I was just as capable of starting one as Kevin. I’m sure he was thinking that if he hadn’t been there to feed me and keep me warm, I’d be dead by now. But despite my lack of preparation, I knew how to take care of myself.

“I said I’ll be fine!”

“Calm down. I was just asking. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

Kevin headed off in the direction of his bedroom, with a stack of blankets large enough to hibernate under through the winter. I went into my own room and surveyed the bed. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but the bedding in this room was much less… plentiful. Since Gramps slept with the window open even in January, I guessed this was his bed. I was cold already, and the idea of getting under the thin quilt and trying to generate enough heat to stay warm wasn’t exactly enticing.

But there was no use postponing the inevitable. I took my jeans off and put on both pairs of sweat pants and pulled on both of shirts I’d brought on over the one I was wearing. I probably looked homeless, but at least I was a little warmer… until I got brave and crawled under the quilt.

I bet there were igloos toastier than that bed. My feet were like ice. The cold was an unwelcome visitor I couldn’t escape. I hovered, semi-conscious, in a state between sleep and waking, where time seemed to extend indefinitely. All I knew for certain was that I would never be warm again. On the bright side, I knew what to get Gramps for his birthday—a memory foam mattress topper. I could feel every spring poking and jabbing my body. It was like trying to sleep on a porcupine. I tried to stay as still as possible for two reasons: attempting to keep what little body heat I had concentrated in the smallest radius, and avoiding getting stabbed with new springs coiled and ready to strike whenever I shifted.

Eventually I rolled over to check the time on my cell phone, wondering if it was too early to get up. 12:58. This was ridiculous. There was no reason to lie there suffering if I wasn’t going to sleep. I might as well get up and build a fire. At least I’d be warm. I rolled out of the miserable bed and hobbled down the hall on my icy stump feet, using my cell phone for light. I didn’t want to turn the lights on and risk waking Kevin, who was surely snoring like a happy bear in his nest of extra blankets. As much as misery loves company, the last thing I wanted right now was an I-told-you-so lecture.

I took a quick peek out of the window. It was still snowing, flakes drifting silently to the ground. Ugh. At least there was plenty of wood and newspaper, so I busied myself stacking them as quietly as possible in the fireplace with my cold, fumbling fingers. I felt frozen all the way through to my bones. Once I was satisfied with my pre-fire arrangements, I reached into the little pocket on the side of the wood bin for the matches.

They weren’t there.

This was the last straw. I imagined the headlines on the news tomorrow—“Girl Found Frozen to Death in Cabin; Ex-boyfriend Slept Blissfully Unaware Through Her Final Hours Two Doors Down, Under a Mountain of Blankets.” I giggled at the idea, glad Kevin was asleep, because I probably sounded unhinged.

Moving into the kitchen, I accidentally hooked one foot around a chair and almost fell. I tried to curse quietly, but my big toe was throbbing so much, I wondered if it was still attached. The idea of Kevin finding my bloody big toe resting on the linoleum in the morning made me start laughing again. When I could walk, I started going through the kitchen drawers with my cell-phone flashlight, searching for matches. If Jane Austen had written this story, it would be called
Pride and (un)Preparedness
. The thought made me laugh even harder; I covered my mouth trying to muffle the laughter I couldn’t seem to stop.

“What are you doing out here, stumbling around in the dark, laughing?” Kevin’s sleepy voice killed the merriment in a hurry.

“Looking for matches.”

“You’re making enough noise to wake the dead. Is the power out?” He answered his own question by flipping the switch closest to him, flooding the room with light.

I squinted. “I think I liked it better before.”

He switched the light off again. It was dark, but there was enough light from the snowy white sky coming through the window to see his bewildered face. “Why are you looking for matches at one in the morning?”

“I wanted a cigarette,” I deadpanned. “Why do you think I’m looking for matches? I was going to start a fire. It’s freezing in here!”

“I offered to start one earlier.”

Trust him to bring that up. “I wasn’t cold earlier; I’m cold now. But I can’t find the matches anywhere. I know they were here before, but now they’re gone. It’s like they got up and walked away.”

“They’re in my backpack. I took them with me when I went fishing.” He disappeared into his room and returned with the prodigal matches.

I was furious. “I can’t believe you had them the whole time. Why would you take matches fishing?”

“You know—in case I needed a cigarette,” he said, grinning.

I tried to grab them out of his hand, but he held them over his head where I couldn’t reach.

“I can do it,” Kevin said.

“I think you’ve done enough already.”

“Come on. I drove you to the edge of insanity looking for these. The least I can do is get the fire going.”

“I can do it myself.” It was ridiculous that I was standing here freezing, while we argued about who would start the fire. But I wasn’t about to let Kevin sweep in and save the day when it was his fault I was cold in the first place.

“I bet I could start a fire with two sticks faster than you could with these matches,” he said.

“Oh, please. I did the hard part already. The fire would have been roaring by now if
someone
hadn’t hidden the matches.”

“Care to make it interesting?” he said.

Good old Mr. Competitive. “What did you have in mind?”

“If I get the fire started first, you have to make hot chocolate and stay up with me the rest of the night.”

“And if
I
get the fire started first, you have to pack up your stuff and leave in the morning.”

His smile wavered. “You really want me to go?”

Part of me wanted to yell at him, but I was wavering a bit myself. I didn’t really want him to go, but the Self-Preservation Fairy told me that it wasn’t a stellar idea for him to stay, either. There were things that I quite liked about Kevin, but there was an equal amount of the infuriating.

At the beginning of our relationship, I used to think that he was 51% charming, 49% aggravating. We fought a lot, but mostly over stupid things, and the making-up part always outweighed the rest. But as time went on, the numbers started to shift in the other direction. One day I realized they had traded places—51% aggravating, 49% charming, may not seem like much, but it was enough to make me question whether there was any future for us. The difference between me and Kevin was that I only considered leaving him, but he actually left.

When I thought about the pain of the last year, my answer to the question about our future was a whole lot easier.

“Those are my terms.” My voice came out much stronger than it felt. Maybe this weekend would turn out to be a good thing, seeing him again like this. Maybe it would be what I needed to banish the demon known as Kevin from my life for good.

He shrugged. “Fair enough.” He tossed me the matches, and I caught them.

I should have known he would never make a bet he couldn’t win.

“Hey, these matches are wet! I can’t start a fire with these.”

His smile lit up the darkened room. “Yeah, I know.”

I threw the box at his head, but he ducked. “You cheated!”

“I wasn’t about to come back without fish, but it was really cold, so I was going to start a fire and stay out later, but I accidentally dropped the matches in the stream. I was hoping they’d dry out before you noticed…but this turned out okay too.”

“Great work. Now we’re going to die of hypothermia.”

“I already told you—I can make a fire with sticks.”

“If you can make a fire with sticks, why did you take the matches with you?”

He was still grinning like an idiot. “Matches are easier.”

I briefly considered throwing something larger at him, but I suddenly felt tired, and it didn’t seem worth the effort to break something I’d have to clean up later.

Kevin knelt in front of the fireplace. When he noticed that I hadn’t moved, he made a dismissive motion with one hand. “Go make the hot chocolate, wench. You’re mine for the rest of the night.”

I hated myself for being the tiniest bit pleased. I dismissed the little voice in my head that wondered what it said about us that his reward for winning involved spending time with me, while mine would have dictated that he vacate the premises as soon as possible.

Chapter Seven

I sipped at my hot chocolate, warming my hands on the mug and my toes by the fire. Every now and then, I glanced warily from my spot on the couch to where Kevin was sitting on the chair, only to find him staring at me, so I’d quickly fix my eyes on something else. He wasn’t saying much, and this was about as far from a comfortable silence as you could get. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you really going to make me sit out here with you all night?”

“Yes.”

“You’re so quiet; I swear I can hear the snowflakes falling. It’s making me twitchy.”

He laughed. “You’re funny, Rosie. You always did make me laugh.”

“This isn’t funny—it’s bizarre. And I can’t sit here with you, staring into the fire until the sun comes up.”

“We could talk instead.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d suggested that, but the idea of a serious conversation with Kevin was almost worse than the silence. What on earth did he think we’d talk about? Still, it was slightly better than the alternative. “Okay, sure. You start.”

He considered for a moment. “On second thought, I think we should play a game instead.”

“I didn’t even bring food, Kevin. Do you think I have Monopoly in my trunk?”

“Not that kind of game. I want to play Truth or Dare.”

Either the hot chocolate was too sweet, or I was coming down with the flu, because my stomach was suddenly churning. I was a champion liar, so surely the idea of a little game of Truth or Dare couldn’t be upsetting me.

On the other hand, he did bust me quite easily earlier …

“Maybe I should go back to bed instead. My stomach doesn’t feel that great.”

“Let me guess—you have a note from your doctor saying that you have anxiety-induced ulcers and shouldn’t be upset under any circumstances.”

“Ha ha. Believe me, I’m way past the point where anything you say or do could upset me.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.”

“Fine, you’re on.” I noticed that I was twirling a finger through my strawberry-blonde hair, the way I did when I was nervous. I forced myself to stop. It wouldn’t do to have Mr. Barnes knowing he was unnerving me.

“I’ll go first,” he said. “Truth or dare?”

No way I was going to give him the opportunity to ask me anything I might have to lie about. If I stuck with the dares, everything would be okay. “Dare.”

“I dare you to go outside and stand in the snow for two minutes...”

“Piece of cake.”

“… in your underwear.”

“Kevin!”

“What?”

“That’s not fair.”

“It isn’t supposed to be. Haven’t you ever played this game before?”

“Not with a sadist.”

“You can get even with me when it’s your turn. I’ll have to do whatever you want.”

The idea of coming up with something humiliating for Kevin to do was tempting, but not enough to strip down to my skivvies and parade around outside. “Pass.”

He barked out a laugh. “You can’t pass!”

“Sure I can. Show me in the rules where it says I can’t pass.”

“Strangely enough, I don’t happen to have a sheet of rules in my pocket.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “I rest my case.”

“Rosie, there’s a reason the game isn’t called Truth, Dare or Pass. Pick one.”

I was going to have to hope for the best. “Truth.”