Shoving her wineglass on the mantelpiece next to his tumbler, she headed toward the kitchen, thankful for the strong glow from the fire. Opening the cutlery drawer, she grabbed two spoons, then the roll of kitchen paper and briefly considered ice cream or the whipped cream before dismissing both as a very bad idea.

For one, the power was out, and opening the fridge and freezer should be limited to emergencies and two, she didn’t think either of them needed such a blatant sexual cue between them. In her current state of arousal, a can of whipped cream was the equivalent of bringing a vibrator into the room.

With that inappropriate thought nipping at her heels, she hurried back to find Grady had moved close to the fire again, the brownie pan still in hand.

“Rug picnic,” she announced as she brandished the spoons in the air.

He turned as Suzanne made her way around the couch, grabbing up the blanket she’d had over her knees earlier.

“That’s not a thing,”

“Of course it is.”

“Not when you’re an adult.”

Suzanne spread the blanket out on the rug. “Who says?”

“Rules of being a grown-up 101.”

“Pfft.” Suzanne’s bangs fluffed out as she made the sound. “Rules of being a grown-up don’t apply when we’re stuck in a blizzard in the middle of nowhere.” Suzanne had been through blizzards before but in a city, there was safety in numbers.

He gave a surprised half laugh. “You’re in a house that’s been surviving blizzards for forty years. In front of a fire. Drinking wine and eating brownies. Not a tent.”

“Whatever… It’s too Little House on the Prairie for my liking.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re serious?”

“Absolutely.” She sunk to the floor, sitting lotus-style, as close to the fire as possible while still being on the rug and glanced up at him. His legs looked six feet long from down here. Man…was there an angle from which Grady didn’t look great?

“What?” she demanded as he continued to stare. “Too manly for a picnic? Will it ruin your reputation in the Surly Rancher Dude Club?”

“Surly rancher dude?”

“What, no club?” Suzanne feigned disappointment. “I was sure you’d be president.”

He clutched his chest. “Who me, ma’am? A simple cowpoke?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just sit already. I promise your secret is safe with me. What happens in the blizzard stays in the blizzard, right?”

Firelight caught the clench of his jaw as a whole world of possibilities opened up in Suzanne’s head. And if she was reading the sudden mushroom cloud of heat in his gaze right, Grady was on the same page. “To coin a phrase,” she added lamely, and then, quickly changing the subject, she held up the spoons, one in each hand. “So are you going to share the brownies or keep them all to yourself?”