Falling Madly

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Teresa

T he Cozy Creek Confectionary looked exactly as cute as I remembered, but also fresh and trendy. The place must have been renovated many times since my youth. The tall, paneled windows gave it a gingerbread house charm my mother once thought was the answer to her prayers. Nothing bad could happen in Cozy Creek.

The bell above the door jingled as we stepped inside. The smell of fresh baking was so intoxicating I felt like I was absorbing calories through my lungs. I wanted to live in this room. For the first time, I saw it through Mom’s eyes. She’d been through a divorce, with two kids in tow—one of them a moody teenager. Cozy Creek must have felt like the safe haven she’d been looking for.

A pretty woman in a pink apron smiled at us from behind the counter. “What can I get you?”

Trevor ordered us coffees and pointed at a tray of heart-shaped pink cookies in the cabinet. I nodded my approval. They did look sickly sweet, which would help if the coffee really was as bad as he claimed. I had no memory of it since I’d only picked up a coffee habit in college.

The cafe was packed with a mix of pensioners and high school kids, along with a couple of tourists on winter break. You could always spot them from their expensive snow gear and the fact that they photographed everything they ate.

Each table had a vase of pink roses. Pink hearts and garlands hung on the window. Valentine’s Day had obviously thrown up all over this town. I remembered Cozy Creek having a slight obsession with festivals and decorations, but this was next level—like a movie set.

“In my defense,” Trevor said, taking a sip of coffee and grimacing. “At Christmas, the color scheme was bit less obnoxious.”

“What’s wrong with pink?” I asked, grinning at him as I took a bite of my cookie. It helped with the motor oil of a coffee blend.

He emptied three creamers into his coffee and stirred. “ Ach, I’m ashamed to admit I tend to forget about Valentine’s Day. It’s not exactly a big deal when you’ve no one to buy chocolates for. And it’s not like Denver will paint the whole town pink for it.”

I looked at the paper hearts currently obscuring my view through the window. “Yeah, this is something else.”

His eyes twinkled with mischief, mouth tugging into a smile. “So, when I said I was going to win yer heart and smack you in the face with small-town magic?—”

“That’s not what you said.”

“I’m sorry, lass. When I said I was going to transport you into a Hallmark movie and turn into an irresistible lumberjack. Flannel from head to toe. Flannel underwear and?—”

“Not even close.” I laughed so hard my eyes watered.

“Well, whatever I said I was going to do, I had no idea I’d be taking you into this theme park of commercialized romance. I swear this was not part of the plan! I’ve just been looking at office spaces and then this one popped up. I had a quick chat with Charlie and since they’re out of town, he asked if I could take a wee look.” He blushed, which made me smile.

“What?” I looked at him in mock horror. “Are you saying you haven’t been crocheting pink hearts for weeks on end in preparation?”

I liked seeing him a little flustered. He wasn’t playing it cool. I was so used to seeing Trevor with his unflappable smile and that nothing-can-get-to-him attitude. Here, he was different. A little on edge, like all of this meant something. Almost like he was worried.

That made no sense. We were friends, or at least friendly colleagues. We messaged daily. We joked and chatted and argued and never got mushy about… feelings. We never talked like he’d talked to me in the car.

I thought I’d been the only one grieving what I’d lost that night: my respect for him. Our connection. I’d lost my bonus reason to go to work—the spark that kept me going. The months after that had been dreary and hard, even though it was summer. I’d focused on my house hunting and had eventually bought my condo. Miraculously, really. And then I’d lost my job.

A thought hit me.

“Did you know about the restructuring at Wilde? Did you know before everyone else?”

Trevor’s eyes widened, and he froze for a second, staring at me. “Ye mean, before the first email?”

“You know what I mean.”

He looked me straight in the eye, his voice steady. “I knew the production team was on the chopping block. I knew Charlie was trying to fix things. I didn’t know they’d fire you.”

“I bought my condo that week. No one warned me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know about your job, I swear. But I also didn’t know you were buying a place. Ye weren’t talking to me much around that time.”

I’d always thought Trevor had been part of it, keeping secrets with Charlie. But maybe he hadn’t. It was true I’d been actively avoiding him back then.

“When I found out they were firing you, I went to George and told him he was making a huge mistake.”

“You did?”

“I did. Ask him, he’ll tell you how he gave me a twenty-minute lecture on being a bleeding-heart softie, just like his son.”

I bristled. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Because you don’t want to contact George?” he guessed, grinning.

I nodded. Nothing could make me voluntarily approach my psychopathic ex-boss.

“Great! Then I also punched him in the throat for you.” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

“No, you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t,” he admitted. “But I thought about it. Vividly. I thought about the sound his windpipe would make as it crushed under my knuckles, and he let out a choked whine?—”

“Thanks, poet. Have you ever actually punched anyone?”

“The boxing sack at the gym,” he confessed, shrugging. “I’m more of a hit-them-wi-ma-words kind o’ guy.”

I could easily imagine him at the gym. Nobody’s shoulders got that wide by holding a pen. But I couldn’t imagine him in a fight. Who would even fight him? Trevor was too likable. Too accommodating. I could barely imagine him raising an issue with George. If he’d really stuck his neck out for me… what did that mean?

“I appreciate you talking to George. But right now, I’m glad it didn’t work. I’m glad I don’t work there anymore.”

“Me, too.”

I finished my cookie, and my gaze drifted back to the cabinet. So much fresh baking.

“I think I’ll buy some to take home. Can I have the keys? I left my wallet in the car.” I rummaged through my purse, coming up with nothing.

I’d been charging my phone on the drive, and since my cards were all held in the phone case, I’d come to the cafe with nothing to pay with. But Trevor had been so quick to order and pay, I hadn’t even noticed.

“What do ye want? I’ll pay for it.” Trevor shot up, but I motioned him back down.

“Seriously, the car is down the road, it’ll take a minute.”

I should have added a dramatic “what could go wrong?”, because in the next five minutes, everything did.

I took Trevor’s car keys and skipped out of the cafe, hurrying down the road as if to prove to him this little trip would take no time at all. The temperature was just above freezing, and I didn’t account for the slick ice hiding underneath the freshly fallen snow. I also didn’t account for my Italian shoes with their smooth soles sending me flying. I lost my balance, my hands flailing until they found an anchor—an iron lamppost covered in pink hearts.

As my hands gripped the iron pole, the car key became airborne, and I watched in horror as it landed on top of a storm drain. The slats were wide enough for it to go through, but so far, the key was sideways, sitting safely on top of the grid.

I inched closer, reaching to pick it up as carefully as I could. I didn’t see the dog before its nose touched my bottom, and I fell forward, slamming my knees on the ground and palms against the iron grate, unwittingly launching the car key into the town sewage system.

“I’m sorry, he’s not usually this excited,” a friendly voice behind me said.

I turned and saw a woman my age with a round face and a friendly smile, tugging at the leash of an excitable border collie. “Harry! Heel!”

Harry? The dog’s name was Harry? Where had I heard that before?

My mind shot into a million directions, chasing its tail. I’d just permanently lost Trevor’s car key, and the woman whose dog kept nuzzling my bottom looked oddly familiar.

Her gaze caught mine, and she beamed. “Teresa! Oh, my God! Now I understand why he’s going nuts. Harry was a puppy last time you met, but he must remember you.”

I smiled back, a little startled. “Peony!”

I stood up, and she hugged me. She’d always been a hugger. Even when we’d seen each other daily, she’d always hugged me goodbye. We’d spent countless hours in the garden room behind her family home, dreaming about the life we’d live when we finally escaped Cozy Creek and went to college. And she was… here?

“You… live here?” I stammered. “And Harry… It’s been fourteen years.”

“He’s a senior, but still going strong.” Peony scratched the dog’s ear. “What brings you back? Where have you been? I tried to look you up on Facebook once or twice, but—” She smiled apologetically.

“It’s okay. I’m not on Facebook. And I really needed to get away.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch. It was easier that way.”

She nodded, and I fought back tears. I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t want to relive any of it.

“The cafe is closing.” Trevor’s voice made me jump, and my stomach wound itself into a tighter knot.

There he was, standing behind me, smiling, not knowing what I’d done.

“Hi! Sorry, Trevor. I bumped into a friend from high school. This is Peony.”

Trevor smiled and introduced himself, and Peony pulled him into a hug. I waited for them to finish the pleasantries, the bad news burning a hole in my throat.

“I dropped your car keys!” I blurted as soon as there was a lull.

“Dropped them?” Confused, Trevor looked at the ground, until his eyes found the storm drain. “Do you mean…”

I nodded, my throat so dry I couldn’t even speak anymore.

Peony’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God! Did that just happen when Harry gave you a shove? I was trying to hold onto his leash. He’s never that excited anymore, but I guess he recognized an old friend and summoned all his energy. Oh, no!”

She looked as white as a sheet. I probably looked the same. Trevor stared at his car, a couple of yards away, his mouth open as if he was still processing the news. Finally, he pulled a phone from his pocket. “Okay. What can we work with? I have a phone, a wallet, and the keys to the office. What do you have?”

I swallowed, opening my purse. “My phone and cards are in the car, so… nothing.”

I browsed my measly belongings: makeup, a used tissue, home keys, several receipts, half a packet of mints and an antacid. What a great survival pack.

“I’m so sorry.” I looked at Trevor, then his car, which I now realized was my only way out of Cozy Creek. “Do you have another key?”

“Aye. In Denver.”

Of course. Who walked around with two car keys?

“Can we call someone? A locksmith?”

“They won’t be able to do anything. It’s not like those old cars you could wiggle your way into with a bit of wire. They’ll tow it to the dealership. It’ll cost a fortune.”

“I’ll pay,” I said, my voice wobbly.

“Nae. That’s silly. I’ll have someone fetch the spare key and drive here. Maybe Charlie. He has a key to my place for emergencies.”

“But they’re not even in town!” I cried.

“They’ll be back this weekend.”

“I feel like this is my fault,” Peony piped up, her smile so pained she looked like she was about to cry. “How can I help? What can I do? Do you need a place to stay? I know the town is fully booked on Valentine’s.”

Trevor’s eyes flashed with alarm. “I don’t. But Teresa might.”

“Great!” Peony smiled, twisting the dog leash around her fingers. “My place is a bit crowded… three kids and the dog… but my couch is yours if you want it!”

“Thank you,” I stammered. “Three kids? You’ve been busy!”

“A set of twins!” She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I actually need to head home to make dinner, but I’ll give you my number…” She pulled out her phone, then halted and turned to Trevor. “I guess I’ll give it to you if her phone is in the car?”

Trevor took her number before we waved goodbye.

“Even if you decide not to stay on my food-stained couch, please message me! I’ll take you out to Bookers for drinks and reminiscing! Promise me we’ll do something. I need to get out of the house!” She laughed breathlessly.

“Let’s!” I promised, and she powered down the street, dragging her dog.

Harry had done his sniffing and lost interest in me, moving so slowly I could tell his age. Back then, he’d been an excitable puppy we’d named after Harry Styles, of course. I’d been away for fourteen years, and so much had happened. I couldn’t believe my old friend had three children. She’d always been the maternal type, but still.

I turned to Trevor. “What did you mean you don’t need a place to stay?”

He gave me a sheepish smile. “I bought a little cabin a while back. And I have the keys in my pocket.”

“You have a place in Cozy Creek?” I stared at him in utter confusion.

Why hadn’t I heard of this? News of this magnitude tended to travel.

“I bought it on the down low,” he added, jingling the keys in his pocket. “It still needs work, but it’s livable.

I narrowed my eyes. “And only accommodates one person?”

“What? No. It’s… under construction.”

“It must be pretty bad if you think I’m better off fighting over a couch with a giant border collie, breaking crayons every time I turn.”

He scratched his beard, looking flustered. “I thought you wouldn’t want to share a house with me since ye didn’t want to come here in the first place.”

“I didn’t,” I admitted.

I kept my gaze on my shoes, trying to calm the brewing storm in my chest.

Part of me wanted to reconnect with Peony, but I knew I’d have to ease into it—start with a couple of beers and a chat, not by crashing on her couch, surrounded by her family. Relying on Trevor didn’t feel right either, especially since he didn’t seem thrilled about inviting me to his cabin. So where did that leave me? Where could I go?

“The office! It’s unoccupied. I can sleep there.” I held out my hand. “Keys, please.”

“I don’t know if it’s safe to give ye any more keys.”

“It wasn’t my fault. The dog pushed me,” I said defensively.

It probably was my fault I kept buying shoes designed for a gentle Mediterranean climate, but that was beside the point.

He gave me a lopsided grin. “I’ll let the realtor know that we’ll go back tomorrow morning for one last check or something. Maybe she’ll let us keep the keys overnight.”

He stepped away to make the call, and I leaned on the car, emptying my lungs. This day couldn’t get any worse, right? We’d reached the pinnacle of awful now, and it had to be plain sailing from here.

Tomorrow, I could try to convince Trevor to contact someone other than Charlie to pick up his spare key and bring it over. If they had to break into his apartment to do that, I’d cover the cost. That way, I didn’t have to sleep on the floor for more than one night. One night I could handle.

Trevor returned with a smile. “It’s all sorted. Do ye need some money for dinner? Then I’ll leave you alone.”

He put the office key into my hand, curling my fingers around it. He stood so close, leaning in, that I could smell him. Sometimes, those pheromones were real pesky bitches, stirring trouble. What had Richard smelled like? I couldn’t remember feeling like this with him. I couldn’t remember feeling like this for such a long time I had blissfully forgotten this rush. Why did I have to be this susceptible?

I tried to swallow down my discomfort. “Some dinner money would be great.”

“I’d take you oot to dinner, but I doubt we’d get a table with such short notice on Valentine’s Day.”

“You’re right! We’ll have to buy something from the general store.”

He looked defeated, handing me a credit card. “Here you go. Get yourself something to eat.”

I stared at the card, a hollow feeling spreading through me. As much as I wanted to be independent and look after myself, staying the night in an empty office building made me feel uneasy. And when I thought about him leaving me here, by myself…

My voice wobbled with need. “You’re not going shopping? We could go together.”