Troping Through the Snow by Alexa Riley

“I’m the boss. Remember.” He kisses me before I can reply. “You think I won’t be able to pick out things you’ll like?” he asks when he pulls away from the kiss to put on his own coat.

“Well, I love these boots, and you think they’re ugly.” I tap them together.

“I never said that. I love those boots.”

“Seriously, now you’re saying you love them?” I put my hands on my hips, not buying it.

“Yes, I told you they are practical. You think I want you slipping and falling? You could get hurt.”

“Oh.” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and think about what he really said. Has North been sweet to me in ways I hadn’t picked up on before?

“Sweetheart, you could wear a paper bag and I’d get turned on.”

Normally I would think that’s a line, but with North, I actually believe him. The man can’t keep his hands off me. He wasn't wrong about us having chemistry. Our kisses are so natural now, and a lot of things have become that way with us already. I want to think it’s because we worked together for a bit before we got married, but North has always been so stiff. This is different. We’re different.

He hands me my purse before we’re out the side door where his SUV is already warmed up. His hand stays on my back, guiding me to the passenger side before opening the door for me.

“Is it just me or does it seem like we’ve been locked away in the house longer than we really have?” I ask as he drives toward the center of town. People turn to wave at us as we pass, and a few people hoot and shout congratulations.

“Has it been that terrible?” North’s voice drops.

“No!” I rush to say, and my voice squeaks. “I only mean so much has changed. It's hard to think we’ve only been gone a few days is all.”

“After the New Year, we’ll go on a proper honeymoon.”

“A honeymoon? To a beach?” When I think of a vacation, the beach is the first thing that comes to mind.

“If that’s what you want.”

“I’ve never seen the ocean.”

“What?” North asks, shocked.

“We didn’t really vacation unless you count driving a few hours from the house to see something. That was about it.” He’s quiet as he pulls into an empty spot in front of Frostie’s bakery. While North has told me a ton about himself, I’ve dodged a lot about my past and the girl I thought I left behind.

“Have you told your parents about us?” He finally speaks after putting the SUV into park.

“No,” I admit. I haven’t given it one thought. My parents and the people of my hometown wouldn’t believe it anyhow if they saw North. Troping might, but my hometown would laugh at the thought of me being with someone like him. “Have you?” It’s a stupid question because this is a small town that loves to gossip. Not in a mean way, but news spreads fast.

“Yes, I had to promise them a couple of Sunday dinners if they’d let me have some alone time with my new wife.”

“North!” I hiss, and my face rushes with heat “You did not say that to them. They’ll think…” I trail off, knowing I'm being ridiculous again. Of course everyone knows what we’ve been doing while holed up in the mayor’s place for two days.

“They’ll think that maybe they’ll get grandbabies soon.”

My mouth falls open because I can’t believe he said that. I watch him slip out of the SUV to come around and open the door for me. Is it a joke? It has to be. Right?

I’m still in shock as he takes my hand and leads me into the bakery then places my order for me without having to ask what I want. I know people are watching the two of us, but North keeps me tucked close to him. Everyone has been so welcoming since I came to town, but I’m still an outsider. People were always wondering who North would end up with, and I don’t think anyone ever thought it would be me. I know I hadn’t. Would it bother them?

“Coming right up,” Frostie says after North pays her. I expected her to be grilling the both of us with questions, but something is off with her.

She keeps looking behind us at one of the small tables, and I glance back to see Clause sitting there. He makes the thing look like a child’s table with his giant muscled body sitting in one of the chairs. I’ve only seen him a handful of times since he lives on the outskirts of town in a cabin. He always reminds me of a lumberjack, and I think he might be the only person in Troping that doesn’t care for Christmas or this town.

He glares toward Frostie, who pretends to not notice, but I see her peeking out of the corner of her eye. What the heck is going on between these two? And why isn’t Tinsel all over it? She always jokes he’s a serial killer, but her humor is clearly darker than mine.

“Did you see that?” I ask North when we get back into the car to make the short drive over to City Hall.

“Everyone staring at you? Yes.”

“What?” I laugh. “No one was staring at me.” I meant Clause, but now thoughts of him and Frostie are gone.

“I don’t like it,” North grunts, and I have no clue what he’s talking about.

Then again, that’s often the case with my new husband.





CHAPTER 12