Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Thanks. Love you. I’ll let you know what happens.”
“Sounds great. Love you too.”
I end the call, then go open the door for Dasher. He rushes in, drops the ball, then shakes. Cold water splashes all over me, and that’s when I realize just how soaked and filthy he is. Before I can stop him, he runs through the house, paw prints and droplets trailing him.
“Dasher!” I shout, panicking when he shakes again and jumps on the couch. “God. Now it smells like a wet dog in here.”
Shaking my head, I go to the bathroom and grab a towel to clean up the mess and another to dry him.
“You’re gonna get us both in trouble,” I murmur, though I doubt he gives a shit.
Once the floor is clean, I throw the towel over his back and soak up as much water as I can. “You’re a stinky boy.”
He leans forward and tries to lick me, but I dodge him. “Eww, no. Keep that to yourself.”
When I pet his head, I realize his fur is cold to the touch. I throw another log on the fire, then grab a blanket and cover him. He rests his head and kicks out his legs.
“You’re spoiled as fuck,” I say, and I think he knows it, too.
“Also, I’m not bathing you. Your owner can do that when he gets home,” I tell him. “Plus, I’m sure you’ll need to go out again before then.”
I return to my small corner on the couch since Dasher hogs most of it, then I pick up my laptop. Maybe he’ll take a nap and give me a few hours of peace and quiet.
There’s an email from Peggy stating that she took care of canceling my company card, and the unknown charges were reversed. It’s a small silver lining in this shitty situation.
My mind races knowing that time is ticking. I didn’t expect to be snowed in for days and had planned specific things to do. My schedule is now off-kilter, and it’s stressing me out. Thankfully, Levi’s already volunteered to be my tour guide, so hopefully, I can get back on track.
However, that means spending more time with Levi White and his overenthusiastic Christmas self.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LEVI
It feels like it’s negative fifty with the windchill, and the harsh winds burn my skin. As I plow my driveway, I call Finn to touch base and make sure they’re okay.
Although I know he survived just fine with his girlfriend, Oakley. When he answers, I give an update on my current situation. He nearly dies of laughter, as does Oakley. Their teasing is exactly what I expected.
Once I clear my road, I make my way to the Christmas tree farm. The amount of snow that fell in such a short time slows me down. It’s been years since we’ve seen a storm of this magnitude. Any time there’s a blizzard, I’m responsible for clearing the roads, especially since my dad is getting older.
After I clear the parking lot, I grab my shovel from the back of the truck and work on the sidewalks. Once I’m done, I take a quick picture and send it to my mom, who replies with a thumbs-up emoji. Tomorrow, the place will be thriving again, like we weren’t just hit with over twenty inches of snow.
Levi: Heading to your house now.
Mom: Sounds great. Be careful.
Levi: You know I always am.
Their long driveway has a few curves, so I take my time clearing the road. They built their house a significant distance from the main road so the heavy traffic from the farm wouldn’t interrupt their regular flow of life.
When my childhood home comes into view, I smile. The two-story log cabin is picturesque, surrounded by hills covered in blankets of white. Smoke billows from the chimney, and the tree lights twinkle through the front window. I should get Oakley to paint a canvas of this for my parents. She’s a talented artist, and I know she’d nail it. I snap a quick picture, so I don’t forget.
I park, then quickly shovel their sidewalk.
My mom cracks open the front door. “When you’re done, come inside.”
“Alrighty.” I chuckle, seeing my hot breath in the air.
Thirty minutes later, I go inside. It’s toasty so I shake off my coat, scarf, and gloves.
“Pumpkin pie?” Mom asks from the living room, wrapped in a blanket as she flips through a magazine. “Baked it a couple of hours ago.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
“It’s on the counter.”
When I enter the kitchen, Dad’s sitting at the table drinking coffee and reading on his tablet.
“Anything mind-blowing in the news?” I ask.
“Nope. Nothing has changed.” He meets my eyes. “Did you finish plowing already?”
“Yeah, and now I’m ready for summer.”
He snorts. “And just think, the cold and snowy season has just begun.”
“I don’t usually mind it, but damn, that blizzard was a monster.” I grab a knife from the drawer and cut myself a big piece.