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they’re not with me. If you can’t take a little joke, you’ve got big problems. Might want to see someone, a professional. It could help,” Grace said, then dragged the heavy bag the rest of the way to the kitchen.
    “Wait! You can’t talk to me like that! Who in the heck do you think you are? This is my house. You’re the guest,” Max ranted as he followed her to the kitchen.
    “Yes I am, and you’re the rudest host I’ve had the misfortune to encounter. If it’s any consolation, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. I’m an adult, I will make the best of it.” She wanted to add, “Unlike you,” but that would lower her to his level.
    He raked a hand through his hair. On another man it might’ve been just an ordinary action. On him it was just…well, she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but it was rather sexy.
    “Look, I don’t like the holidays. Can we just leave it at that?” Max yanked the heavy bag off the floor and placed it on the counter.
    Grace was right. He was a Scrooge! Biting her lip to keep from smiling, she announced, “What you like or don’t like is no concern of mine. At daybreak, I just want to get to my van. I’m not really concerned with anything else at the moment.” Of course, she was, but her concerns were none of his business. Unlike him, Grace wasn’t about to voice her likes and dislikes. Certainly she wasn’t going to tell Max how Christmas was her favorite time of the year and how she detested those who spoiled it for others.
    She wouldn’t tell him that she’d already spent days in the kitchen baking cookies, cakes, and pies for several of the soup kitchens in Denver. And she wouldn’t tell him how much money she had spent on gifts for Stephanie and her girls. What kind of person didn’t like Christmas? Maybe he’d had a rough time as a child. Those incidents had a way of haunting one, even as an adult. As a professional she knew that. As a woman, she couldn’t imagine being with a man who didn’t celebrate and enjoy the Christmas season as much as she did. Christmas was the highlight of the year for her family.
    Max peered out the kitchen window. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere come morning. Look.” He gestured at the window.
    Reluctantly, Grace went over to the window and stood beside him. She couldn’t help but notice the smell of winter and pine emanating from his skin. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes for a moment, wondering, then jerked her eyes open. The cold was getting to her. She glanced outside. Snowdrifts were at least three feet high. Big fluffy flakes of snow swirled through the inky night sky like miniature fairies with wings as light as a spider’s web.
    “I suppose a snowplow would be too much to hope for,” Grace observed as she turned away from the window. Another time this might amuse her. However, with two girls whose mother was probably frantic with worry, she was anything but.
    “Yep, it would be. Like I said, I’m not very prepared for this. I came here to…” He paused. Grace waited for him to finish, but he didn’t.
    “Whatever your reason, I, for one, am glad I found you,” Grace added, hoping a compliment of sorts might draw him out of the black mood that seemed to hover over him.
    Max removed the contents of the bag, placing them on the counter. “I’m not much of a cook other than bacon and eggs. You might want to see if there’s something here you and the girls would like.”
    Grace was about to tell him bacon and eggs were fine with her, then thought better of it when she realized that, without power, they wouldn’t be able to cook anything.
    “I’m going to get the fireplaces going. There’s more wood in the shed,” Max said, before wandering outside again. At least he’d had the foresight to see to the wood supply. Or someone had.
    She wondered if Max was incapable of taking care of his own needs. She knew his reputation on the slopes. Ski or die. She remembered Bryce