Let it Snow
Miranda Bailey stood at the back of a large group of her colleagues. She was only half listening to her mentor and Chief of Surgery, Richard Webber. "Okay, people, a large snowstorm is on the way. If you're on the board to work at any point this weekend, come early. If you're not scheduled and you want to come in, you are more than welcome. If none of those apply, enjoy and be safe." Richard made eye contact with Miranda and tried to scurry away. Even with her short legs, she caught up to him. "I'm trying to escape you."
She sidled next to him. "Uh, why am I not on the schedule?"
"You've not had a weekend off in three months."
"Are you my father or my boss?"
Richard chuckled. "Fine. I can see you're against a voluntary weekend vacation. So, I'm prescribing you mandatory, er, relaxation."
Miranda's eyes went wide. "But—"
"Dr. Bailey," Richard said while pulling out his phone, trying to ignore her.
"That's—"
"Bailey."
"I could—"
"Miranda!"
Miranda blew air from her mouth. "Fine, fine."
At his office door, he turned to her. "The snow is supposed to start tonight and go into Monday."
She shrugged. "So?"
"Is Tuck with you?" Miranda shook her head. Her ex-husband, Tucker, would be picking their four-year-old up from school and taking him for the weekend. Leaving her completely alone. "So, get some good food, get some good wine, grab a good book and wait for daylight." Both surgeons looked at each other before cracking up. "This would a great time for you to rest."
A groan escaped her. The man knew enough about her to know those weren't words she wanted to hear. "I am rested."
They walked into the large space. "You've been on-call every weekend for a month. You're not rested," he said opening his door.
She crossed her arms. "I am the model for rest."
"Uhh, go home." He jerked his head toward the door. "Doctor's orders."
All she could do was roll her eyes before leaving. After changing, she stepped outside and the cold air spread across her face. Snow had already started to fall. It whispered past her nose. She wasn't a big fan of snow; it was wet and cold and created accidents that filled the ER. Quiet as kept, that part she enjoyed. Maybe spending a weekend in a quiet, cozy house wouldn't be so bad. Trudging to her car, she got inside and tried to start it up. She was met with the annoying sound of a tired engine. "Oh, no!" She shouted. Her hands slammed against the wheel, blaring the horn accidentally. "Crap! Of all times. Of all damn days." A knock on her window caused her to jump and she hit her elbow on the middle console. "Damn it! Who is it?"
"Uh, Dr. Bailey, it's me, Dr. Warren. Ben Warren."
"Okay?" She recognized the voice. The two of them had talked on a few occasions. They weren't friends, or even all that friendly, but she knew him well enough.
"I saw… I mean, I heard your engine make a noise and I wanted to see if I could help you out. The snow is sticking and…" Miranda opened the door a little. The air had turned from cold to freezing and it scaled up her body, paralyzing her. "And I saw you struggling."
"I wasn't struggling," she said with a shiver. She pulled her hat down and looked up at the man. As cold as it was, he was calm, bundled up and unshaken. "Oh. Sorry to bother you then, Dr. Bailey. Have a great weekend." He started to walk away.
Her pride almost let him go, instead she called him back. "Okay. I was… ugh, struggling. I can't get my car to start and I just want to get home."
He'd come back with a slick grin on his face. She was at his mercy. "I have cables in my truck. If you want, I can try jumping your car." Miranda winced. "Or I can just give you a ride home."
When Miranda sighed, a small gust of flew from mouth. She watched it fly toward him. "Are they safe to use when it's snowing?"
She frowned. "Yes. About as safe to use when it's dry."
"Well, at least we're fifty feet from a hospital," Miranda theorized. "On the other, there's no need to put ourselves in danger if we don't have to."
Ben nodded. "So…?"
"May I have a ride please?" She asked reluctantly and gratefully.
"Sure thing. I'll go and get my truck." Miranda closed her door and watched Ben walk away, cursing herself for something that was beyond her control. Before grabbing her things, she sent a text message to her best friend, Callie Torres. A pickup pulled up behind her and she walked toward it hesitantly. The window was too high for her to peer into. Thankfully, Ben came around the vehicle with a smile on his face. He opened the door and helped her take the first, long step into the truck. Nearly out of breath, she uttered a thank you. "No problem, Dr. Bailey."
Back in the driver's seat, Ben put his hands on the wheel. Confused, she asked: "What are we waiting for?"
"I'm waiting for directions," he chuckled.
"Oh! Right," she said smiling for the first time since she'd left the hospital. "Um, go out and make a left."
"Got it."
In her seat, Miranda sat facing forward, only taking small glimpses at the man next to her. He was quite handsome, a fact that she was well aware of. After her divorce, she started looking at her male colleagues as more than just bodies and as actual people that she might want to get to know. Ben Warren was on that short list of men who fit her strict criteria. Though nothing ever came of it or ever would. It was something Callie made her do against her will. Miranda noted that she liked the way that Ben carried himself and his disposition seemed bright, the complete opposite of her ex. And now she knew that he was chivalrous. Ben could have ordered her an Uber or Lyft or taxi and that would have been sufficient and kind, but he'd offered to give her a ride. That said a lot. "Dr. Bailey?"
"Um, you can call me Miranda."
"Okay, and you can call me Ben."
"I know. And take Fenwood."
He turned the wheel smoothly, crunching the slowly thickening snow beneath his large wheels. The city was about to have a problem on their hands if they didn't start dropping salt soon. "It's just that you've never said my name," he told her coming up to a red light. He turned to look at her and she forced herself to look into his eyes.
"I didn't know that was a requirement."
"It's not. Just an observation."
She shook her head. "Just drive, man."
The corner of his lips curled into a smile. Did he ever stop smiling? "You got it."
She looked out of the window and saw that the main streets were crowded and redirected them. "Make a left on Second and then a left on Pine please. I'm on the left, three houses down." Pulling up in front of her house, Miranda gathered her things.
"You give great directions."
Miranda turned to him. "Thank you, Ben. For the ride. It was very kind of you."
"You're welcome, Miranda."
They smiled at each other and she felt a slight vibration in her chest. Before either of them could say anything else, Miranda had the door open and was trying to get down. "Ahh!"
Ben was out of the truck and on the passenger's side, barely catching her as she slipped. "Shit!" His arms wrapped around her body tightly, but her leg flailed and she kicked his ankle. "Damn!"
"I am… so sorry," she breathed. Still holding her, he shook his head, unable to speak. "I have an ice pack inside and… and a heat pack. I'm so sorry."
"No, it's fine. I'll be okay." He let her go and stood up grabbing her things, handing them to her.
"Thank you."
Ben nodded. "Good night, Miranda."
"Please, just come inside. Let me take a look at it."
He shook his head. "I'm good. I promise."
"I'm trying to be polite. Now do as I say or else."
There was that smirk again. "Or else what?"
"Do you really want to find out?" She turned on her heels toward her house. She wasn't entirely sure he'd follow her, but she heard his engine shut off. At her door, she unlocked it and disabled her alarm as Ben hobbled up the front stairs. She felt so bad. The man had given her a ride home during the beginnings of a snowstorm and she'd probably sprained his damn ankle. Miranda closed and locked the door. After they hung up their coats on her coatrack, and took off their shoes, she gestured toward the living room. She studied his gait, which foot had she attacked again? "I'm going to get my first aid kit from the kitchen. Do you want anything?"
"May I have some water?"
"Sure."
Five steps from the room, she doubled back. "Um, please tell me you're not a weirdo or some kind of creep or anything like that."
"I'm not a weirdo." He reached inside of his pocket. "Or some kind of creep." He pulled out his wallet. "Or anything like that." He waved it at her. "Take it."
Miranda gave him an odd look. "For what?"
"Collateral."
She smiled. "I believe you."
After getting the kit and a couple bottles of water, she returned to see him standing in front of her mantle, looking at her pictures. "Your son?"
A gigantic grin hit her face. "Yes. Tuck. He's six. And the best thing I've ever done."
"He's beautiful, Miranda. Looks just like you," Ben said.
She sat on the longest couch. "Thank you." Was she blushing? "Um, you can take off your sock." Placing a towel on the table, she said: "And put it on the table."
He leaned down to slip off his sock and his cologne filled her nostrils. He smelled so good. And with the perfect lighting in her living room, she was able to see him fully. Something she hadn't been able to do before. Usually, she saw his profile or with a mask covering his face. Now, she could see all of him and he was fine. "Dr. Bailey?"
Hearing her name snapped her from her thoughts. "Huh? Yes?"
"I said that I don't see any bruising or swelling."
"I'll be the judge of that." Two minutes later, she concluded the same thing. "But keep an icepack on it for a little while."
"I really don't want to intrude."
"I invited you in, so you're not intruding."
He sighed. "What a way to start the weekend, huh?"
"Yeah..."
"I'm sure you had big plans."
"Oh, yeah, big plans. Huge!" She laughed. Ben joined in, his body shaking the chair a little. "I'm sure you did, too, so if you want to leave…"
"I mean, if you're telling me to stay."
She scrunched up her face. "That is not what I'm doing."
"Quit begging, Miranda. I'll take the icepack." She rolled her eyes and massaged the pack, pushing it against his ankle. He inhaled sharply. "Thanks."
The two of them made small talk for half an hour. Looking out of the window behind the couch, she saw the snow was now a few inches deep. "The storm is underway."
"I should go. I don't want to overstay my welcome."
"No, no, no. You haven't," she said. "That wasn't a suggestion. I was just… making an observation."
"Oh." Ben moved the ice around on his ankle. They sat in the room, quiet. Miranda held her breath. What else were they supposed to talk about? What were they supposed to do? The snow was piling up and, if he didn't leave soon, he'd be stuck. And then what? "Do you want to watch some TV?" He asked.
"Right, of course. TV." She got up to grab the remote. Her jeans were still wet from the snow and were now noticeably uncomfortable as she moved. Miranda handed him the device. "Uh, do you mind if I go upstairs and change clothes?"
"Miranda Bailey is asking me if I mind… in her house?" Ben raised an eyebrow and laughed.
"I wasn't asking for your permission, Benjamin Warren," she laughed. He smiled and she gritted her teeth. "You know what? I'm done being nice to you."
"That was your version of nice?"
She waved him off and headed toward the stairs. In her room, she changed quickly. Mirror Miranda looked cute and comfortable as real Miranda left the room and headed back toward her guest. The news was on and the anchorwoman was telling them that the governor was calling a State of Emergency. Everyone was advised to stay indoors. "Welp, I guess that means you're here for the night," she said absentmindedly. "I mean, until they call off the State of Emergency or unless you want to leave." She really didn't want any of those things to happen.
"They'll, uh, probably have their hands full all night and day at the hospital."
"Yeah," she replied wistfully.
"So… dinner?"
"Sounds good. I'm sure I can find something." Miranda stood up. "Warning though, I'm not the best cook."
"Well, I am a great cook, so I can take over. It's the least I can do." He put on his sock and shadowed her into the kitchen. They washed their hands before opening both the refrigerator and freezer doors. He stood behind her. "Are those porkchops?"
"Yeah, they are. I was thawing them out."
"Good. Do you have potatoes?" She went to her pantry and brought back a few potatoes. "We need something green."
Half-embarrassed, she said: "I have fresh green beans. I was going to try my hand at them this weekend."
"Now's the perfect time," he said winking at her. A flutter in her stomach made her look away from him. They washed their hands again and began making magic. Ben moved around the kitchen like he lived there. While she tended to the green beans, she watched him worked. The way he used his instinct and measured without cups or spoons turned her on. "So, Miranda, um, where are you from?"
"Baltimore, originally. You?"
"Here. Born and raised in the Emerald City." She nodded. "It's your turn."
"For what?"
"To ask me something." She was more than confused. "I asked you something and we answered. Now, you ask something and we'll answer again. That way we get to know each other."
"Oh okay." She thought for a second, plopping a handful of vegetables into a pan. They were standing side by side now, their elbows nearly touching. "Favorite movie? Or is that too easy?"
"Nah, that's fine," he said looking over at her. That damned smile. "Um, my favorite movie of all-time is The Shawshank Redemption."
"Ah, I've heard of it, but I've never seen it."
"Aw man, you gotta watch it. It's so good. Trust me." She shrugged. "What's yours?"
"The Color Purple."
"Great choice. I love that film." Miranda sat down to peel the five large potatoes. Once finished, she handed them off to Ben who began fixing them for mashed potatoes.
Silence befell them once more. "It's your go," she told him.
"I know. I just wanted to see if you were going to say anything."
"Just ask your question."
"Are you married?" She swallowed hard. "Or have you been married?"
"Does it look like I'm married?" He turned around and leaned on the counter, looking at her. She stared back.
"I'm sorry if my question was invasive," he commented.
"Don't apologize," she sighed. "You couldn't have known it would hit a nerve." Miranda licked her bottom lip as Ben focused his attention on the food. "I was married for a long… time. It's over now. I'm divorced."
"Do you miss him?"
"No, not really. On a night like tonight when it's cold, I might have, but I don't right now." Ben sat next to her and reached for her hand. It was the first physical contact between them that wasn't out of necessity.
"I'm divorced, too."
"Do you miss her?"
"Not right now," he said squeezing her hand. Miranda stood up to stir the potatoes. He pulled up the last porkchop. "And dinner is ready."
"I have wine."
"Yes, please." She opened a new bottle and poured the glasses halfway. He fixed two plates and placed one in front of her.
"This smells so good."
"Bon Appetit," he said clinking her glass with his. "We make a good team."
Miranda looked up from her plate. "I don't like teams."
Ben lifted a brow and smiled. "That's not true at all, but I'm gonna let you have that lie."
"Why'd you get a divorce?" She asked abruptly. The question came out of nowhere and slipped from her lips. He seemed like a great guy with a great job. Who would divorce him? And why?
"Um, we weren't on the same page," he responded. "I wanted to be with her and she wanted to be with other people."
"While you two were together?" Ben nodded, cutting into the porkchop. "I know that feeling."
"Same boat?"
Miranda bit the corner of her bottom lip. Admitting her heartbreak was not on her to-do list with anyone much less a man that she was semi, kind of interested in. "Yes." They sat in silence for a long while, eating and drinking.
"This just got real deep."
"And awkward," she laughed.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked about your marriage." He took a sip of wine. "It was really none of my business."
Usually, she hated people forcing her to speak on private matters and would have said as much. She was a pistol; known for laying down the law and being straight-laced. But she felt herself opening up to him. This Ben Warren. Who'd given her a ride home and cooked her a delicious meal. She sighed. "Well, we have all night, so there's no need to apologize."
"Good. I wouldn't want a Bailey lecture." A scoff slipped from her mouth. "Oh, don't even pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said quickly.
"Mmmhmm."
She rolled her eyes and ate a forkful of mashed potatoes. "These are really tasty." He took a small bow. "Cook often?"
"When I have the time. You know how it is."
She did know how it was. Time never really seemed to be on her side. She'd looked up after a decade of marriage to find out that she was miserable and unfulfilled. Looked up to see her baby boy turn into a toddler and then a first-grader. "I do indeed." She put her fork down and placed her folded hands beneath her chin. Ben did the same thing. "I'm really grateful for you helping me out tonight."
"It's all good."
"Except that I kicked you."
"I should have had the door open," Ben chuckled.
"I shouldn't have been in such a rush."
"Yeah, that's true."
"Hey!" She laughed. They put the dishes in the sink. Miranda told him that she'd clean them later and followed him in the living room, noticing that he seemed to be limping with the wrong foot. "Um, quick question."
"Shoot," he said wincing.
"Which ankle did I accidentally kick?"
"This one." He pointed to his left leg.
"That's not the foot I looked at."
"Huh?"
"Huh hell. I looked at your right foot, Benjamin Warren." Her hands went to her hips and she glared at him. "What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"You are lying." Ben sat on the sofa and patted the seat next to him. "I'd rather stand."
"I pretended to be in pain—" Miranda felt her nostrils flaring. She opened her mouth to set him straight. "And I did that only because you seemed so remorseful about kicking me."
"You—'
"When, in actuality, it didn't hurt at all."
Miranda slid her tongue along the top row of her teeth. "So, you're a liar?"
"I'm not a liar," he told her.
"Then?"
He gestured for her to sit down again. She obliged and waited. Her hand went to the necklace hanging from her neck and she played with it, anxious. "I've been, slowly, getting up the, uh, courage to talk to you."
"Talk to me about what?"
"Going out. On a date."
Miranda's eyes shot open. "Oh."
"Yeah." Her mind was blank. She didn't know what to say and, at this point, she didn't know how to act. Should she reveal her crush on him as well? Should she feel flattered or creeped out? How did this all play out? "So, yes, I lied a little, but I'm not a liar. I promise." Miranda looked into the eyes of the man sitting less than a foot from her. His brown eyes looked apologetic. Ordinarily, she would be furious. But there was something about him that made her want to give him the benefit of the doubt. He did fake an injury for her. She tried not to smile while coming up with an answer. "Miranda?"
"Y-yes?"
"While you're processing, can I use your bathroom?"
"Uh, sure, down the hall on the right," she said with sarcasm in her voice. He stood up, his knee touching her a bit before he left the room. When he returned, he sat closer to her than before.
"So?"
"I don't know what I'm supposed to say."
"I guess you don't have to say anything. Or you can tell me to leave."
She looked out of the window. The snow wasn't letting up. She'd feel awful letting him leave even with his truck. "No, that doesn't seem fair."
He licked his lips. "About what I said before?"
"You're a good guy…"
"But you don't see me that way or you're already dating someone."
Miranda smirked. "I wasn't going to say that." He nodded. "You're a good guy and I'd be selfish if I didn't say that… ugh, this is hard." She shook her head, nervous. Having a crush on someone was one thing. Admitting it to them was something totally different. Ben picked up her hand again. Heat seared through her body from their touch. "And I… like you, too. I've liked you for a while now." She exhaled. "That's all. There."
"You're kidding?" He said with a laugh.
Absentmindedly, she stroked his knuckles. Her hand felt good in his, warm, gentle. When she realized what she was doing, she stopped herself and pulled her hand away. "I'm… sorry." Miranda stood up and hurried into the kitchen. "What am I doing?" She whispered beneath her breath.
Ben came into the kitchen. "Are you okay?"
"I don't know." The honesty in her voice scared her. She felt exposed in her own house, in her own kitchen. He walked over to her, picked up her hand and draped it over one of his shoulders. As if it were being pulled by an invisible string, her other hand followed suit. "Ben…," she said, her voice barely audible. He lifted his chin as a response. "I've never been with anyone aside from my husband—former husband." Her knees wobbled as she thought about all the possible scenarios of their closeness.
"Okay," he said putting his arms around her waist, holding her like he did when they were outside, like she was about to fall and he was the only thing stopping her from hitting the ground. Their faces were so close; if she didn't know any better, she would think that a kiss was on the horizon. Her heart was racing so fast. Miranda closed her eyes. When she opened them, he was smiling at her.
"What? Why are you smiling?" She started to back away, but he clutched her tighter. "Why are you always smiling?"
"I only smile this much around you."
"You don't even know me."
"I know enough."
Were those butterflies she was feeling? Or was she experiencing the beginnings of a heart attack? "Like… uh… like what?"
The man inhaled. "For one, you're kind." She shook her head. "I've seen how you are with us non-surgeons." She chuckled. "You're funny."
"I am not funny."
"'Huh hell'," he replied mimicking her near perfectly. Miranda blushed. "And you're stunning."
"And, uh, what anecdote do you have for that?"
"I'm looking at you."
Damn, he was smooth. "Thank you." What was she getting herself into? He had passed the tests for four of the five senses: He looked gorgeous, smelled delicious, his voice was music to her ears and having him in her arms nearly unhinged her. Leaving only one left. Taste. Their eyes met, then her eyes drifted to his lips. They looked succulent. "So, what now?"
He shrugged. "Maybe we watch a movie, maybe we go play in the snow, maybe you'll let me kiss you." Miranda felt her heart stop. She was having a heart attack. "Maybe we do all three."
She moved away from him quickly. "Are you hot? I'm burning up." Miranda walked out of the kitchen unsure of her destination. This time Ben didn't follow her immediately. She stood by her front door. Part of her wanted to open it just to feel the freezing gust of air that was waiting behind it. She pulled back the curtains on the nearest windows and looked outside. It was so pretty out. Most times she didn't get to see her city like this. She'd usually be holed up in the hospital. But she was enjoying watching her street fill with snow. Miranda put her forehead to the windowpane. The chillness of the glass cooled her down. Taking a deep breath, she walked back toward the kitchen. Ben was standing where she'd left him.
"You're okay?"
Miranda could only nod as he moved in her direction. "I'm fine."
"That you are."
She chuckled at his compliment. "So, uh, where were we?" He took her hand and pulled her out of the kitchen. He lifted his coat from a hook. "Oh, are you leaving?"
Ben picked hers up and handed it her. "We're going outside."
"It's so cold out there. And so warm in here."
"Don't you want to help me make a snowman?"
"Sounds sexist."
"I mean, a snowperson."
Miranda sucked in air. "I don't know about this."
"Trust me." Outside, the only things she could do were shiver… and grumble. "Cheer up, Charlie," he said laughing at her.
"If I smile, my teeth will freeze. And my head is cold." He pulled a hat from his pocket and pushed back her hair, sliding it on her head. "Better."
"You're welcome." She kicked the ground, stirring the snowflakes. Ben picked some up and let it flutter through his fingers. "It's your turn to ask a question."
Miranda twisted her lips to the side. She picked up some snow and started to make a small hill of it. There were a lot of questions she wanted to ask. "Um, do you have siblings?"
"Guess." He helped her round out her tiny mountain before they began on the second heap.
Sucking her teeth, she looked at him. "You're too laidback to be the oldest, but you're not spoiled like the baby." He made a face that told her she was on the right track. "You're a gentleman, very considerate, so there's no doubt that you have two sisters. One older, one younger, putting you smack dab in the middle."
Ben cleared his throat and patted the head of the tiny snowperson. "You're really close. I am the middle child. I have an older sister and a younger brother." Miranda snapped her fingers. "That was good. You should take your talents on the road. Make some money." They laughed loudly, the sounds echoing in the night. They were the only ones outside.
"What about me? How many—"
"You're an only child," he said cutting her off. "I'd bet my truck on it."
"How do you figure?"
"You've never had to share anything that you didn't want to. You do what you want when you want. You don't take crap from anyone because you never had someone bossing you around or someone you needed to coddle."
When Miranda exhaled, a puff of air floated between them. "Something like that." He had that part of her figured out. And it made her want to dissemble their creation with her foot. The snow had finally stopped, but it had already risen a good eight inches and there was still more to come. Ben wandered off to find accessories for their friend. He returned with one stick and a handful of rocks from the side of her house. They pushed the stick into one side and carefully placed the rocks giving their snowperson eyes, a nose and a mouth. "Not bad," Miranda said taking a step back to admire it. She shoved her hands into her pocket. They were damn near frozen, but she was having a good time and didn't want to complain.
Ben found himself next to her. "Needs a name." His hand slipped into hers. How was it so warm? She grabbed onto his arm, leaning into him. His body heat comforted her. "Hmm. Jingle?" They shook their heads the same time. "Fluffy?"
"I think we should name this snowperson… Snowball."
"Wow! You're so creative," he said with a straight face. The surgeon squinted up at the anesthesiologist. "Three snowballs named Snowball. Epic!" She leaned down and picked up bit of snow and tossed it at him. She laughed and watched him swipe it from his face. "You're gonna pay for that."
Miranda took off and wasn't five steps away when she felt a pack of snow on her back. Grabbing some from his truck, she threw it in his direction, clipping his leg. She hid behind the truck making several snowballs. When she didn't hear Ben anymore, she stood up and tried looking over the hood. "Where are you?" She asked half-concerned and half-curious.
"Behind you." She whipped around and found him right behind her. She flicked some snow from his window toward him. It landed on his face and he reached for her hands, pulling her in, pushing them beneath his coat and shirt onto his bare skin.
"What the—"
"I know your hands are cold."
"And yours aren't?" He shook his head. The streetlights gave them just enough light to see each other. "I can feel my fingers thawing," Miranda admitted. She moved her fingers, dancing them across his back. She stopped and kept them still. Their bodies were so close, much closer than they'd been in the kitchen. She tore her hands from his skin and folded her arms. "I'm sorry, I can't do this." She walked away.
Ben ran to catch up to her and touched her elbow. "Hey… do what?"
"This."
"Play in the snow, unthaw your hands… what?"
"Don't be funny. You know what I mean."
"No, I don't." Ben's face and voice were serious.
"I mean… get all cozy with a guy I barely know."
He dropped his hand from her body. "Do you not want to?"
"I do. I want to get to know you, but slowly."
"I want to go slow, too." She exhaled. "Um, it's my turn to ask a question." She nodded. "Would you like to go out next weekend?"
"Yes," she answered before he even finished the question. "I might have surgery though."
"I… might join you." They smiled at each other as they hugged again. Her heart was beating enthusiastically. The old Miranda was gone. She wouldn't have been caught with a somewhat stranger in her front yard much less in her house and never against her chest. The new Miranda was working on a curve. "Ready to go inside?"
"Okay," she whispered. Neither of them moved. Her nerves were on edge. She hadn't been this intimate with a man in a long time. Feeling brave, partly because of onset hyperthermia, she asked: "Did you want to kiss me before? In the kitchen?"
He licked his lips. "Yes, I did," he replied earnestly. "I still do."
She felt his muscles contract beneath her fingers as he leaned down for a kiss. Miranda closed her eyes and tried to remember how to relax in the arms of man. She closed the gap between them and put her lips on his, registering the last sense: taste. The simplicity of kissing came right back. Ben held onto her, squeezing her hip. Miranda pulled away and headed back to the house. The snow had started to all again, but her body was hot. The kiss had aroused her. Feelings in places that hadn't been stirred up in years reappeared. In the house, she asked: "Would you, uh, like some hot chocolate?" She asked. "I'll make us some."
"Miranda…"
"Yes?"
All it took was one step to make them face to face again. He took the hat off her head and let his fingers rake her hair. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. It was impulsive and she'd later blame it on the spirit of Snowball, but she had to do it. Their lips moved slowly at first. She felt his tongue breaking through the invisible barrier and finding hers. Miranda moaned quietly and held him tighter, coming to the tips of her toes. When they paused, he grinned at her. That goddamn smile. "I will take some hot chocolate."
After making the hot chocolate, the two of them sat in the living room and stared at each other over their mugs. "What?" She asked, pulling her feet up on the couch.
Ben turned to her. "I'm just thinking about how I'm here with the Miranda Bailey."
"And what about it?"
"Nothing. I mean… I don't know what I'm saying." He exhaled and put his mug down.
Miranda took another sip and did the same before asking: "Do you want to watch that movie now?"
"Yes, please."
They took turns flipping through the many choices. Miranda excused herself to go to the bathroom. When she was finished, she looked in the mirror, fixing her hair a little. Returning, she saw Ben stretched out on the sofa, asleep. In her linen closet, she pulled out a comforter and an extra pillow. Throwing the cover over his body, she thought about the best way to get the pillow beneath his head. Miranda tapped his arm gently, rousing him. "Hey," she whispered. "I got you a pillow and a blanket."
"I'm not sleep."
"I definitely heard you snoring," she laughed.
Ben joined in, sitting up. "Maybe I was," he admitted. "But I was only waiting for you to come back." He looked at the spot next to him and she sat down.
"If you're tired, I don't mind, you know, if you go to sleep." She hid the shiver that hit her spine. "You can stay on the sofa or there's a guestroom upstairs that might be better for your back."
"My back?"
"Yeah, you have to keep it strong."
"Strong?"
She smirked, "To lift your big buckets of money."
Ben rolled his eyes. "Damn, woman," he said.
"Well, we do all of the work while you people just sit there."
"You're ruthless."
"Am I speaking untruths?" She blinked slowly. Their friendly banter came so easily. Now it was like second nature.
He put his arm on the back of the chair and sighed. "I suppose not, but you're hurting my feelings."
She shrugged and swallowed as they locked eyes. If Miranda was a gambling woman, she'd bet that they were going to kiss again. A third one which, if it followed the pattern, would be better than the other ones. He touched her back, pushing them together. This kiss made her body tremble. Her walls were gradually coming down with Ben, in a way they'd never been with Tucker. Her tongue made its way into his mouth. Her hands found the back of his head, intensifying it. Miranda felt his hands on her back, moving the length of her spine. His fingers hit her bra strap, slowing him down. He pulled away while she was still trying to dig her tongue deeper into his mouth. She didn't think she'd ever get tired of doing it. If Miranda got a chance to do it again, she might never stop.
Ben stared at her. "I enjoy kissing you." She blushed. "Your lips are so soft," he whispered against her cheek. He moved in and sucked on her bottom lip, kissing it occasionally. As he started up again, she put a hand to his chest. "Too fast?"
"No, I just want to talk. I think we should talk. We should talk. Yeah…" Miranda looked at his lips, almost pushing hers against them. "L-let's do that."
"Okay. Yeah, uh, we can talk." Her eyes glanced at the clock. It was going on midnight. When was the last time she'd spent the night alone with a man? She began giggling and found that she couldn't stop. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. "Yes. I just can't remember the last time I…" Her heart was racing so fast. She took a deep breath. "The last time that I felt like this."
His lips formed a half-smile. "Me either. I really like being here."
"I appreciate your company," she added. A comforting quietness whirled around them. Miranda yawned.
"Tired?"
She nodded. "Maybe we should call it a night."
"Yeah, I suppose so," he told her. She stood up. Ben did the same. "Uh, goodnight, Miranda," he said with a small smile. Miranda leaned in for a hug and Ben mistook it for a kiss. He put his lips on hers and she froze. "Oh! My bad," he told her. "I thought…"
"It's… fine. I was thinking about it," she admitted. "Um, good night, Ben."
"Is it okay if I sleep on your couch?"
"Yeah, of course. One night won't put a dent in it. And remember the spare bedroom. It's there."
"No, this is fine. Thank you." Miranda turned and walked toward the door making sure it was locked. "Um, if the snow stops and the roads clear, I'll probably leave."
The thought of him leaving made her downright angry. Instead she said: "Okay, well, let me know."
"Not that I want to leave, but…" He took a deep breath, stopping his rant.
"I understand. It's okay." She said the last part mostly to herself. In her room, Miranda took a quick shower. After getting out and drying off, she paced the floor, uneasy. Not only did she have a man in her living room, but she had feelings for that man, had held him and kissed him. And, if she were to be completely honest, she wanted to do it all throughout the night. Miranda moved toward her window and pushed open the curtain, watching the snow fall. It was so relaxing. The wind whistling through her town, almost made her want to go back outside. Her lips burned as she remembered the first kiss she'd shared with Ben. It had come so naturally; it had been so wanted. Deep down inside, she didn't want the snow to stop, she wanted to get to know him better and keep them in their bubble a little while longer. She said a prayer before getting into bed and pulling the covers over her head. A few hours later, Miranda heard a knock on her bedroom door. It was so light, she thought she'd imagined it. "Hello?" She called out. "Ben?"
He poked his head into the room. "Can I come in?"
"Yes. Um, is everything alright?" She asked sitting up. He walked over to the side of the bed she was lying on. Her heart was pounding in her ears. Ben leaned down and grabbed the sides of face, his thumb rubbing against her lips. Miranda noticed that she was no long breathing.
"Everything's fine," he whispered before kissing her deeply. Miranda reached for his shoulders, pulling him down next to her. Her hands ran along his back. Her shirt was pushed up and there was no bra to slow him down this time. Ben's lips went to her neck, melting her.
"Oh, my God." Her voice was so faint. He stopped suddenly and they looked at each other. Even in the dark, she could see the passion in his eyes. "Ben…"
"I couldn't sleep, Miranda."
"Uncomfortable?"
"You… I kept thinking of you." She didn't respond, still half-asleep and not entirely sure that she wasn't dreaming. "I can't believe I'm here. I've always found you attractive."
"You never said anything."
"Do you know who you are?" Miranda cracked up, covering her mouth with her hand. He stroked her hair. "I just didn't want any more time going by without you knowing that." He licked his lips and kissed her cheek once and started to get off of the bed. She touched his waist, holding him in place. Ben looked at her and she tried to hide her grin. He cocked his head to the side.
She backed up, allowing him more space on her bed. Then she pushed her body against his. His embrace was perfect for the cold night. "This is nice," she managed to say, staring at his face.
"It is."
"I wasn't expecting any of this when I accepted a ride from you."
"Oh, me either," he chuckled. "I only expected the bare minimum of hospitality after pulling you from the depths of the snow and getting you home safely."
Miranda laughed. "Yes, of course. I was practically in the last stages of hypothermia until you arrived."
"Exactly." His grip tightened.
"Well, having you in my bed wasn't on the list," she said honestly.
His fingers trickled on her arms. "It's a nice treat though."
"For you, definitely."
"And you, too," Ben countered. "I'm an amazing cuddler."
She lifted her shoulders. "You're okay," she told him nonchalantly. Miranda took a deep breath and turned over.
"Is this a test?" He said in her ear.
Her body shook at the question and at the tingling she felt in her ear. "Goodnight, Ben."
"Goodnight, Miranda."
The next morning, Miranda wasn't at all shocked to see Ben tucked beneath her covers, comfortable, like he did it every day. She smiled as she got out of bed and went to the bathroom. When she returned, Ben looked over at her. "Good morning," she said, her cheeks reddening. Even though there was no sex involved, their night together felt like a one-night stand. Not that she knew what one felt like, but she'd seen the movies and heard stories. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Good morning to you, too." His smile made her cheeks burn even more. "I slept perfectly."
"Good." She pulled on her robe. "I wonder if it's still snowing." Miranda heard him get out of bed and follow her to the window. They stood side by side. The snow had stopped but there was so much more of it. "That has to be, what, at least a foot and some change, right?"
"Maybe more." He put his arm around her waist and she moved toward the door. Ben cleared his throat. "Breakfast?"
"Y-yes," she said. "What did you have in mind?"
"Pancakes?"
"I don't think I have any mix."
"I can make it from scratch."
They headed to the kitchen. "Really?"
"Yes."
"Why?" Miranda laughed.
"Because I love pancakes." She watched Ben bite his bottom lip. "They're so good."
"I prefer waffles," she rebutted, pushing some hair behind her ear.
He faced her and reached for her hand. "I can make you waffles instead."
"Oh, no, pancakes are fine." She squeezed his hand. "Uh, how can I help?" After a delightful breakfast, Miranda finished washing the last of the dishes and handed them to Ben to dry. "That was so good. Thank you."
"You're a great sous chef. I liked how you watched me do all of the work," he joked.
"I guess our roles get reversed in the kitchen. Unlike in the OR." she laughed, one-upping him. In her living room, she was at a lost. What should they do? Watch a movie? Talk some more? Kiss some more? She really liked that last idea.
Ben interrupted her thoughts. "Hey, this may seem strange, but I'm going to run to my truck really quick. I'll be back."
"I'll be here." She watched him put on his coat and go outside trudging through the snow. Her phone rang in the kitchen and she went to pick it up. "Hello?"
"Hey, Mandy."
"Hi, Tucker."
"Tuck wanted to talk to you," Tucker said coldly.
She pursed her lips at his tone. "Okay."
Her son's voice calmed her. "Hi, mommy!" He shouted excitedly.
"Hi, baby."
"You see the snow? Me and daddy played in it."
"You did?" She asked, briefly remembering her own adventures outdoors. "You have fun?"
"Yes. And some other kids started a snow fight and we got all wet and then we had hot chocolate and watched a movie and then we fell asleep."
Miranda laughed. "That sounds like a lot of fun, Tuck."
"We're gonna build a snowman in a little while."
"Oh, yeah?" Miranda knew that he was nodding. "Well, that's funny because I built a snowperson last night named…" She snapped trying to recall the name of the snow creation.
"Snowball," Ben whispered. She hadn't even noticed that he'd come into the room.
"Snowball!" She told Tuck. "We… I named it Snowball." Tuck giggled on the other end of the line at the name. "Are you being good?"
"Yes."
"Good. I miss you. And I love you."
"Love you, too," Tuck responded. The call was disconnected. When Miranda looked up, Ben was looking at her with a wide smile. "What?"
"Nothing. Was that your son?"
"Yes, it was."
"Your face lit up talking to him."
"He's my world."
Ben walked over to her and leaned down to kiss her cheek. She stood there awkwardly. His breath smelled minty and it turned her on. Miranda took a deep breath and put her phone on the counter, stepping away from him. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"
He sighed. "I, uh, see the plows tried doing their thing on this street. It's not perfect, but I expect that the main roads have to be a little bit better. Do you have a shovel?"
"In my garage, why?"
"I figured I'd dig out my truck and be out of your hair."
"Wh-what? Why?"
His tossed up his hands a little. "I feel like you don't want me here."
"But I do."
He scoffed. "You do?" She nodded. "Then, why are you pulling away?"
"I haven't," she argued. The longest minute passed and she looked at him. "I'm not doing it on purpose."
"Okay."
"This is a first for me." She hoped he recognized that she was trying. "So, bear with me. Please," she said.
"Alright." Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. "Sorry if I'm rushing you or—"
"You're not. I'm just a nervous wreck," she admitted with a little laugh.
He shook his head. "You're not the only one. I just called my brother gushing like a schoolboy."
Against the emotions telling her not to, because she was so afraid of stepping into something with the man, she grabbed his hand. He smiled and reached for her other one. "I don't know what I'm doing."
"We're just getting to know each other."
She bit her bottom lip. "You really want to get to know me?"
He put his arms around her hips. "I want to know everything about you." He bent down and kissed the corner of her mouth.
"You missed."
"I was hoping you'd say that." Miranda held her breath as their mouths connected. Kissing him made her feel light-headed and she pulled away. "You're okay?"
"I am," she responded. "Thank you for breakfast."
"You're most welcome."
"And…" Her voice trailed off.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for last night." Ben's smile mirrored Miranda's. She was so lucky her car had failed her. Her weekend was looking one hundred times better than projected. Ben was a good man and she enjoyed talking to him and being with him and holding him. Honestly, she didn't know where the relationship would go and if their relationship would translate into the real world, outside the warmth of her house, outside the comfort of the snow. She really hoped it did. She hugged him easily, pulling herself from her own thoughts. "And you are indeed a good cuddler."
"Didn't I tell you?" He said as they leaned in for another long kiss.
