Jingle Bell Bride. Jillian Hart

could see her mom again and hear those words in person.

      A few more steps brought her to her buried car. Wait, correct that. Her seriously buried car. It would take time and effort to dig out the poor thing. This was a total disaster. She hated being late! Grumbling to herself, she dug her phone out of her pocket. Her thick winter gloves didn’t make it easy to type out a message.

      Car under tons of snow. Order without me. She hit Send and her phone chirped sadly. It wasn’t able to get a strong enough signal to send in the thickly falling snow.

      Great. She jammed her phone into her bag, studying the monstrous white lump her car had become. Where to start? And with what? The little ice scraper under the front seat wasn’t up to this job.

      “Looks like you have a problem.” A smoky baritone broke through the snowfall.

      “Michael.” Impossible to see him through the storm’s thick white veil. Wait—there he was. A hint of muscled shoulders, a shadow in the downfall and she ordered her pulse to stay calm. “Are you always one of the first here and the last to leave?”

      “Depends on the day.” He broke out of the storm, swathed in black and dotted with snow. “Do you need help?”

      “Nope, I can get it.” She’d learned a long time ago to be wary of dudes offering “help.” Wasn’t that how she’d met Nick? Another total disaster. “I’m just figuring out my best strategy.”

      “That would be getting four-wheel drive.”

      “No kidding, but I’m partial to my old Toyota.” In more ways than one.

      “Hey, it was a suggestion.”

      “A good one if my school loans weren’t kicking in.”

      “I hear you.” He hit his remote and his door locks popped. He leaned in and started the engine, leaving it to idle. “Hold on, there’s no way you’re getting out of this lot with that car. The snow is deeper than your bumper.”

      “I was just pondering that particular dilemma. There are so many, I’m not sure where to start.” She rubbed snow from the driver’s side window with her glove and peered inside. Her poor car. “What are the chances the plow people are coming?”

      “Not my area. Audra would know. She’s in charge of calling them, but it looks like they forgot the back lot. Again.” He knocked snow off his back door and opened up. “Remind Audra in the morning. That’s your best bet.”

      “So, in other words, just leave my car here?”

      “It’s locked up and with this storm, it’ll be safe. Not too many car thieves out.” He produced a long-handled ice scraper from the back of his four-wheel drive. “I can give you a ride.”

      “Maybe I’ll walk.” The diner was, what, a mile away? Okay, maybe not. “Better yet, I’ll give my sisters a call. One of them will pick me up.”

      “So, are you still in denial about being stubborn?” He tackled the side windows with his scraper. Snow rained to the ground.

      “Me? Nope, I’ve never noticed.” Denial was the best way to go.

      “Yeah, right. You and me, both.” He opened the passenger door for her. “Climb in while I clear.”

      “I’m not sure I feel comfortable with that.”

      “You’re one of those difficult women, are you?” A faint smile cracked the line of his mouth.

      “Difficult? No, but I’m not sure about you, Dr. Kramer.” She plopped her bag on the floor in front of the passenger seat. “You hardly said a word to anyone all day. I didn’t notice it, anyway.”

      “I get what’s going on here.” He circled to the windshield and raked twelve inches of snow off the glass. “You’ve heard what everyone says.”

      “No, but now I really want to know what everyone says.”

      “I’m focused at work.” He tried to pretend none of what he’d overheard mattered. Cold. Heart of stone. Glaciers had more personality. “I don’t hang out in the break room making friends with my colleagues.”

      “You hung out in the break room with me, but I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable calling you a friend.”

      “Me either.” It wasn’t easy ignoring the dazzle of her blue eyes, sparkling with a hint of humor. “There’s nothing friendly going on here.”

      “Glad you agree.”

      “It would ruin my reputation. I’ve worked hard for it.” He pulverized a chunk of ice on the windshield with the edge of the scraper.

      “So, in other words, don’t friend you on Facebook?”

      “At least don’t tell anyone if you do.” He freed the windshield wipers from the ice on the glass and strode to her side of the vehicle. “Would you get in? You’re letting all the hot air out.”

      “Do you know what I think?” She squinted at him, her amused gaze roving over his face, really looking. “I noticed everyone at work seems intimidated by you, but you’re not so bad.”

      “I’m not so good.” Not socially anyway, although it wasn’t for a lack of trying. There was a time when he’d once tried hard to fit in, to take down the walls that had always surrounded him. “Where am I taking you? Home?”

      “No, to Jeff’s Diner.” She hopped on the seat, reaching for the belt. “Thanks for saving my sisters from having to come get me.”

      “At least I’m good for something,” he quipped, closed her door and trudged through the deep accumulation. His boots squeaked, the ice beneath the snow threatened to send him sprawling and there went his vision again, strangely arrowing to the gorgeous brunette in his vehicle.

      “Don’t let this get around.” He dropped into his seat, kicking snow off his boots. “My reputation at work will be ruined.”

      “That might not be up to me.” She gestured through the frosty windshield toward the faint shadow as the wind gusted, giving a smudged glimpse of the building’s back door. “Audra’s waving. Looks like your reputation is doomed.”

      “No way.” He yanked off his gloves and buckled in. Heat zoomed out of the vents, clearing a tiny spot in the glass. “Foggy windows. What are the chances she can see you?”

      “Saved by a technicality.”

      “I’ll take what I can get.” With all four wheels engaged, he gave it a little gas, spun the wheel and lumbered across the lot.