Mason's Winter (A Steele Christmas Novella Book 1) by C.M. Steele

Author:C.M. Steele [Steele, C.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Mason

I watch her sleep, feeling like the world is right. My phone had three messages on it from Grable and his daughter, but after the way they treated Winter, they’ll get a call back when I feel like it, and it’ll only be to get a piece of my mind. I turn it off and slide back into the bed with my love, she immediately rests on my chest in her sleep. I can’t even understand how much this means to me.

When we wake up, the sun is shining, and there’s another light dusting of snow on top of the older layers. I roll over and drag Winter in my arms. “Good morning, beautiful,” kissing her lightly.

“Morning. Do you have coffee here?”

“Yes.” The buzzer rings for the front gate. I check my phone that’s connected to the gate and it’s the movers. Shit, I forgot about them. “Baby, slip on your clothes; the movers are here with your things.” I go downstairs, sliding on my pajama pants and a tee shirt before picking up our coats and shoes from the front door and opening it.

“Put everything in the living room. We’ll sort it out,” I tell the lead mover.

“Sure thing, Mr. Hunt. I’m Morris. Um, but can I have a word with you in private?”

“Yes, Morris, come in the kitchen.”

“What’s going on?” I ask as soon as the kitchen door closes.

“We found a tracker inside one of her things. It was interfering with our signal in the truck, and we had to pull over. It’s still in my truck, but we’re going to take it with us, so they don’t come back here.”

“Have you told James?” I ask, needing to get a hold of him about this.

“Yes, he told me to tell you in private. The plan was his idea.” That’s a good thing. I can’t believe they would do that. Did that bitch get home right after the scene in the restaurant? It’s very likely, and she went on a tirade.

“That’s a great idea. Well, I’ll be waiting to see, but let me know if you have some woman or older man creeping around.”

“Sure.” A knock on the kitchen door interrupted us.

“Boss, we’re done,” a worker says from behind the door.

“Thanks. I’m coming,” he says. “Mr. Hunt, we’ll keep you up-to-date.”

“Thanks, Morris.” I walk them out and lock up, making sure the gate is locked, and there’s no one lurking. I have a strange feeling that Ms. Grable is a little more vindictive than I gave her credit for.

When I come back in, Winter is going through her things. “Is everything here?” She’s looking at a small photo in her hand. I can see that it’s her father.

“Mostly.” She is lost to the picture.

“Is there anything important that you want me to go and get from them?” Her eyes met mine, and I can see that she’s on the verge of tears.

“No, nothing. They kept the expensive gifts my mom picked out for Christmas or my birthdays that he paid for.

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