"Girl, these pages are fire!"

"Thanks, Faye." Maia grinned as she listened to her agent gush over the revisions she'd sent her. "They need your magic touch, but it felt good to write that."

"I bet it did. I don't think I've read anything like this from you in a long time. What got you out of that writing slump?"

"Well, I told you I found a muse," Maia said, shuffling into the kitchen.

"Oh yes that's right, Mr. Mateo Casparij," Faye said, chuckling softly. "You and your Dutchmen. Of course you'd find one in that backwater town. He better not be anything like Sven."

Maia rolled her eyes. "Why do you always have to bring him up?"

"Because I have every right to make sure my baby sister isn't falling for another blonde haired fake ass Prince Charming again."

"I'm not doing that and Mateo isn't really my type. For one, he's a brunette. Two, he has a beard and three, I've never seen him in anything other than flannels, jeans and boots."

"So he's a rugged mountain man, huh?"

"Yes, very much so and you know I like my men cleanly shaven, suited and chicly booted," she said, opening her fridge to pluck out a block of cheese and a bowl of grapes which happened to be the only two things on the shelf. "You don't have to worry about me falling for Mateo. He's just a friend who happens to be the perfect inspiration for this novel."

"Mm, alright. I just don't want you getting hurt again. Sven really fucked with you, you know?"

"I know, Faye," Maia said through gritted teeth as she chopped up a few slices of cheese. "I was there."

"I'm sorry. I just worry about you." Faye sighed. "You're eating while you're out there, right?"

"Yes, I'm eating."

"More than coffee and muffins?"

"Yes," Maia said, popping a grape in her mouth. "For your information, I'm eating cheese and grapes right now."

"Mm, that better be a snack before dinner. I don't want you back sliding again. Sven had you eating like a bird and trying to turn you into something you weren't."

"Faye, come on." Maia groaned. "Can we stop talking about that asshole? I'm eating just fine. You don't have to bring him up every time we talk, you know?" she said, tugging out a sleeve of saltine crackers from the cupboard. "My therapist said that's not good for me either."

"Shit, I'm sorry. I'll drop it," Faye said. "So, tell me more about your new muse. Why's he got you so inspired?"

"I don't know." Maia murmured, nibbling on a piece of cheese as she gazed out the windows at the blizzard blanketing the valley. "I'm sure I've told you about him before. He's the guy who bought the ranch next to me a few years ago."

"Oh yeah. The one who never came out of his house. The guy you swore up and down was a serial killer."

Maia laughed. "Yeah, that guy."

"So how did you go from thinking he was going to murder you to hiring him as your muse?"

"You remember that time I came out here with Sven and we had that big fight?"

"Uh-huh the one when he took your phone and the car and left you stranded out there."

"Yeah." Maia sighed. "Mateo was the one who found me looking like a hot mess walking down the hill and insisted on helping me out," she said, popping another grape in her mouth. "So, we've kind of been friends ever since."

"How have you never told me that part of the story? You completely left out that detail."

"I didn't want you to freak out because of what I said about him in the past."

"Mm-hm. I get it."

"No, Faye, you don't."

"Oh I do, it's all up in this novel. The quiet, ruggedly handsome man who keeps to himself. The one no one suspects is a spy who falls in love with the heiress he's meant to protect. Does he know you're using him for that?"

"Well yeah. I mean he hasn't read any of it. My books aren't his type, but that's why he's my muse. His mannerisms are a perfect study for my character and he got me out of my funk, so think what you want, but that's all he is."

"Riiight. Okay, well just don't get caught up in the idea of him like you did with Sven."

Maia shook her head. "And it always comes back to Sven." She sighed, snatching the kettle off the stove and filling it in the sink. "I know I fell in love with the idea of him and it blew up in my face, but Mateo isn't an actor, he's not a prince," she said, slamming the kettle back on the stove. "And he's not my type. So, stop fucking worrying about it."

"Alright, alright. I'm just looking out for you, sis. You know how you get lost in those royal romances you conjure up. I just don't want to see you hurt again."

"I know," Maia said, turning on the stove and jumping at the sound of a heavy knock on her door. She frowned, shuffling across the kitchen to peer out the window. "I'm going to have to call you back."

"Why? What's going on?"

Maia hung up the phone as she opened the door to Mateo filling the doorframe dressed in a pair of black snow pants, a heavy black coat with specks of snow melting in his beard and dotting his ruddy red cheeks. "What are you doing here?"

A warm smile curled over his lips as pushed his hood from his head and dragged a hand through his chestnut brown locks. "I'm making good on our contract and I brought you dinner."

"Oh my goodness. Come in," she said, tugging on his arm. "You didn't have to come out in this storm to bring me food."

"I wasn't going to," he said, patting the bag at his side. "But then I remembered the dire state of your fridge. So, I brought you the lasagna and garlic bread I made for dinner and some other things to get you through this storm."

"You're a mess," Maia said, laughing. "I have enough to get me through."

"Mm-hm," he murmured, glancing over to the plate sitting on the counter. "Cheese and grapes is definitely going to be enough," he said, looking back at her and the teasing look on his face made her heart flutter. "Do you mind if I put some things in your fridge?"

"No, feel free," she said, gesturing to the kitchen. "But you haven't even signed your contract yet."

"You're the one who wants me to sign a contract." Mateo chuckled as he sat the bag on the floor before he slipped off his boots and hung his coat on the rack by the door. "All I want out of this deal is to make sure you eat."

Maia raised an eyebrow as she followed him into the kitchen. "Why is that so important to you?"

"Um, it comes from my family. Image means everything to them." Mateo sighed, opening the duffel bag on the counter and the delicious scent of warm garlic bread and zesty tomato sauce permeated the air, making Maia's stomach grumble. "And my sister developed an eating disorder because of it."

"Mm, yeah I know how she feels," Maia muttered, opening a tupperware container of perfectly baked lasagna. "I used to date a guy who was all about his public image and what I put in my mouth," she said, plucking a fork out of the drawer and taking a bite of the pasta and nearly moaning at the decadent taste. "Oh shit, this is good."

Mateo grinned, sliding a container of garlic bread toward her. "I'm glad you think so."

"I do," she said, taking another bite while he stocked her fridge with deli meat, fruit and vegetables. "So, is that why you're doing all of this? Because I remind you of your sister?"

Somehow the idea of him thinking of her as his sister made her heart sink a little. She shouldn't care that he thought of her that way because she didn't like him like that, but it still made her feel some type of way.

"No, you definitely don't remind me of my sister," he said, closing the fridge and pulling out a bottle of red wine from the bag. "Just the way you eat."

"Oo, and he brought wine too," she said, pushing away from the counter to turn off the kettle boiling on the stove. "Don't let the way I eat worry you," she said, leaning up on her tiptoes to grab two wine glasses from the cupboard. "I'm actually quite the foodie. I just slip into some old bad habits when I'm writing."

"Bad habits or not, I'd still like to make sure you have enough to eat...if you're still okay with that? I know this is weird."

Maia let out a bark of laughter. "Mateo, our whole setup is weird at the moment. I'm cool with it, if you are," she said, setting the glasses on the counter. "And I'll be honest, if your lasagna is a testament to your culinary skills, then I'll never say no to you making me dinner or lunch or even breakfast if you're up for it."

Mateo choked out a laugh. "Oh, I'm up for it," he said, pouring the wine and she didn't miss the twin flags of red that stained his cheeks. "I told you this is what I wanted out of our arrangement."

Maia grinned, picking up her glass. "Then let's toast to this beautiful partnership."

"To a beautiful partnership," Mateo said, clinking his glass to hers. He took a sip of wine and frowned as he sat his glass down. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah sure."

"I probably should've asked this before I agreed to be your muse, but what kind of story are you using me for inspiration?" he said, chuckling softly. "I mean, I know you write romance, but someone like me couldn't possibly spark anything like that for you."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Maia said, taking another sip of the rich dry wine before she looked out the window at the snow falling in big chunks. "I'm assuming you're sticking around for a minute?"

"Yeah." He shrugged. "I've got nothing to rush home for and I might as well help you kill this wine."

"And eat all this lasagna."

"Sure, I could go for some seconds."

"Good because I don't like eating a big meal alone," she said, whisking away from the counter to grab two plates from the cupboard. "And this is probably a good time to brief you on my novel and what I need from you for the next couple of months."

A/N: A little more background on Maia...Sven sounds like an absolute piece of work. Love that Mateo came by to feed her 😏 🥰 That's some dedication in a snowstorm!

As always thanks so so much for reading, Little Bees!