Snowbound - Harlequin.com

44 SNOWBOUND
ing a smile. “Amy being the one constantly fiddling
with her hair.”
“I swear, I’m going to make her put it in a ponytail
before the next competition.”
Fiona finished her toast and considered the muffins.
“Applesauce or blueberry.”
“You made them yourself?”
“Yes.”
How like him. A succinct answer, no desire to expand
the way most people would, admitting that they’d
always liked to cook or hadn’t liked to cook but found
they were good at it, no, The recipe is my mother’s.
So, how to learn something about him? Are you
married? seemed too bald.
“Do you have kids?” she asked.
“No.”
Argh.
“Me, either,” she said. “Someday.”
He nodded, although whether concurring or simply
acknowledging what she’d said, Fiona couldn’t guess.
“Do you usually have guests year-round?”
“Generally just weekends in the winter.”
“Don’t you get lonely?”
Again she thought she saw amusement, as much in
a momentary narrowing of his eyes as on his mouth. Did
he know perfectly well what she was getting at?
“No.” After a moment, he added, “I prefer the solitude.”
Fiona hid her face behind the mug and took a sip of
coffee. “Then I’m doubly sorry,” she said, setting it down,
“that we’ve had to impose ourselves on you.” She tilted
her head. “I hear some of the kids coming right now.”