The MacGregor Brides by Nora Roberts

shoved one end of the headphones off her ear. “I said, what the hell are you doing?”
    “I’m clearing the driveway.”
    He raked a hand through his dark hair to scatter snow. “So I noticed.”
    “Did I hit you with that last shovelful?” She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, and struggled to keep her voice sober. “I’m sorry.” A laugh hitched out, poorly disguised as a cough, as he narrowed his eyes. “Really, I didn’t know you were behind me.” She gave up, wrapped her arms around her stomach and let the laugh free. “I really am sorry, but you keep sneaking up on me.”
    “If you weren’t blasting music in your ears, you’d be able to hear the rest of the world. And why the hell are you out here shoveling snow?”
    “Because it’s there, and so’s my car, and I have to get into the office.”
    He took the sunglasses off her nose, slipped them into the pocket of her coat. “I don’t suppose there’s a single young boy in this neighborhood who could use ten bucks for shoveling your driveway.”
    “I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.” Suspicious, she fisted her hands on her hips. “If you’re even thinking about saying something insulting, like this is man’s work, I’ll have to pick up that shovel and brain you with it.”
    He caught her chin in his hand, drew her face up, close to his. And smiled in challenge. “It’s man’s work.”
    She let out a sound like a hissing kettle and whirled. But he beat her to the shovel. “Go inside,” he ordered. “Warm up. I’ll take care of it.”
    “I’m doing it.” She gripped the handle of the shovel and frustrated herself with a useless tug-of-war. “It’s my car, it’s my driveway.”
    “I’m not standing here watching you shovel snow.”
    “Oh, and I suppose I should take myself off to the kitchen and make you some hot chocolate.”
    “Good idea.” He knew exactly what he was doing, what he was risking when he scraped the shovel under snow. “Hold the marshmallows.” He didn’t even flinch when the snowball exploded on the back of his head. “We’ll play later, as soon as I finish this.”
    “I am not making you hot chocolate.”
    “Coffee’d be fine.”
    “Don’t you have anything to do? Don’t you work?”
    “It’s only seven-thirty. I’ve got time.”
    And he’d needed to see her, it was as simple as that. He’d told himself he was going into the office early. Then his car had simply ended up in front of her house. He’d sat in it watching her, just watching her. She’d looked like a column of fire against the snow, in that long red coat, the red cap snug on her head.
    So he’d sat in the car watching her, wanting her. And it worried him.
    The next missile caught the small of his back. He ignored it, kept shoveling.
    From the upstairs window, Julia and Gwen studied the scene, their noses pressed to the glass. “How much longer before he grabs her and takes her down?” Gwen wondered out loud.
    “Three more hits, tops.”
    “Agreed. Ten seconds, at the outside, after she hits the ground, he’ll be kissing her brainless.”
    “Five seconds max,” Julia declared. “He works fast.”
    “How long before she realizes she’s in love with him?”
    “Oh, nice shot, Laura! That’s got to be cold, sliding down his neck. I’d say she might be able to delude herself until Christmas, but that’s the cutoff.”
    “I think she already knows.” Gwen smiled wistfully. “She’s just too stubborn to admit it.”
    “What about him?”
    “Oh, he’s hooked. Did you see the way he was looking at her? The way he always looks at her?”
    “Like he’d go on looking at her if Boston fell into the bay? Yeah.”
    Gwen sighed. “Yeah. Oh, here it comes.”
    The two of them grinned out the window as Royce spun around, as Laura took one step in retreat. “It’s going to be a terrific kiss,” Julia predicted.
    Outside, Laura stopped her backward progress and stood her ground. “I want that