Chapter 2 Oliver
TWO
OLIVER
My Valentine’s Day promotion had been a bust. I had one guest for the coming weekend. Not one booking of a romantic couple looking for a unique beach getaway. Just one dude.
With the way things were looking out the window, I couldn’t see how my guest was even going to make it. I tried to call him a few times, but all I got was a very professional voicemail message. I’d left one in return, begging him to drive safely.
His room was ready for him either way. I could only hope the snow wouldn’t compromise the emergency roof patch I’d had done. The proceeds from my one guest would at least help pay down the credit card I’d used for that repair.
I was on the second floor in the ocean view room, checking on the whole roof-leak situation and double-checking to make sure the room was ready.
The bathroom was clean, and towels were set in the warmer.
I adjusted the little bowl of Valentine’s Day candy hearts and the TV remote that sat on the nightstand.
The wind howled. I could feel a blast of air near the window. Peeking out, all I could see was white.
“Huh. It’s actually pretty. Maybe this is what heaven looks like.
” I looked up to the sky. “What do you say, Gran, is it just you, a straight version of Rock Hudson, and an endless whiteout up there? You know what, don’t answer that, Gran.
We all have our own version of heaven, and it’s more than a little weird that both of ours star Rock Hudson.
You just have fun up there and don’t worry about this place. ” I hoped that sounded convincing.
I straightened the bedspread even though it didn’t need it.
“Perfect.”
It had been perfect before I’d come up to check. I knew because I’d prepared the room myself. I did everything myself at the Lavender Sea since Gran had died. Well, I hadn’t fixed the roof. I wouldn’t know the first thing about that. But I’d paid for it.
I descended the stairs and made my way to the living room in the back of the house to stoke the fire. “The guy probably gave up hours ago.” He was coming from about three hours away, and the storm blanketing my humble home was large enough that it was snowing where he lived too.
“Now we wait,” I said to the fireplace before settling in on one of the two chairs that faced it. I checked my messages. No word from my solo guest. I popped a few candy hearts in my mouth and pulled up a book on my phone.
The candy dish was almost empty and my book more than half complete when I got up to use the bathroom. I found another box of candy hearts in the pantry that was so stocked with stuff I was still digging my way through it almost two years after Gran’s passing.
That’s when I heard a pounding on the ocean-side door.
I thought the storm had leveled up, but then it happened again.
Definitely a loud, aggressive knocking, coming from the door that led to the boardwalk.
Guests generally entered from the alley out back when they first arrived, where the little parking lot sat next to Gran’s courtyard, which was why I’d been waiting in the back living room.
“Good thing I went to the bathroom,” I said to no one. Or maybe to Gran. I’d have to try and stop talking to myself when my guest arrived. Winters could be awfully lonely in a snowy beach town.
I tucked the box of candy in my pocket and ran to open the front door. I was momentarily blinded by the snow and the gust of wind that hit me in the face, but my eyes cleared and …
“Eep!” I didn’t know my throat could make that sound. Snow, in the shape of a human being, stood before me. Had I fallen asleep? Was I having a fantasy novel dream? Was the snow monster about to sweep me off my feet and have his way with me? Or was he the villain of the story, sent to harm me?
The beast shook his upper body, snow cascading down, and suddenly I was looking at one of those heavy-duty work coats and not a snow monster at all.
“Oh my God! You must be freezing. Come in!
He stomped his boots, very much in snow-monster fashion, then stepped inside, unceremoniously dropping his bag as he dripped onto the throw rug.
“Come in,” I said again. “I’ve got the fireplace going in the back living room and towels warming upstairs. Are you …”
I couldn’t see much of him, but I could see a set of bloodshot eyes in an ice-crusted face. He needed to thaw out.
“Let me show you to the fire. It’s the warmest spot in the house. Take off all those wet clothes, and I’ll run and get some towels. I’ll grab a change of clothes for you too. We’re, um, the only ones here, so just get comfortable, and I’ll be right back.”
I looked him up and down; even in those bulky clothes, I could tell he was much bigger than my petite frame. My clothes wouldn’t fit him. I’d have to fish something out of the lost and found.
Was this my guest, or had I just invited a stranger into my house and informed him we were alone?
His eyes were the only features I could see, and not gonna lie, they looked a little murderous.
They were also the deepest shade of blue I’d ever witnessed.
I hoped the animus shooting out of them was because he’d trudged through a mountain of snow and not because he was actually there to murder me.
Or maybe it was because I’d suggested that a stranger strip naked in my living room?
“I’m Oliver, the proprietor here at the Lavender Sea,” I said as I encouraged him to follow me.
Psycho killers were less likely to off someone if they could put a name to a face, right?
Or was it the opposite, and snow beasts murdered people they knew?
Hopefully, I’d live to consult my fantasy-romance novels on the issue.
The fire crackled as we got nearer.
“Just in here.” I motioned, letting him enter the room first. He stood in front of the fire, peeling off his gloves and rubbing his hands.
“I’ll be right back.” I think I heard a grunt, but I didn’t stick around long enough to make sure. The poor man, or murderous villain, needed warm towels and a change of clothes.
I ran upstairs, the candy in my back pocket jangling with every step on my way to retrieve the warming towels.
I took the back stairs down to a storage closet and scooped up a black sweatsuit and an extra-large “Jannah Beach” T-shirt from the lost and found.
I headed to my room next, where I found a pair of fuzzy socks that had been a favorite of Gran’s.
I hadn’t had the heart to add her crazy sock collection to the items we’d donated when she’d passed away, instead keeping them where she’d stored them since I was a little kid, neatly arranged in one of the three small drawers on the top of her dresser. My dresser.
I approached the living room from the other direction to find the man struggling to remove his wet jeans, a pile of dripping clothes at his feet. He fought them to his knees before realizing that his boots were still on.
He let out a beastly growl, landing on the carpet, half tripping on his jeans, half setting himself down. He fought with the laces on his boots, mumbling in frustration, his grunts and grumbles eventually forming the phrase, “Fucking wedding number ten.”
He speaks!
I cleared my throat, and he tilted his head to the side, his body still hunched over as he used one foot to push the boot off the other.
“Towels,” I enthused. “From the warmer … upstairs.”
He nodded before taking those crystal-blue pools away from me to yank off his second boot.
“Sorry about the mess,” he muttered, managing to make every syllable guttural. I felt each spat-out word to my core. The feeling was not entirely unpleasant.
I turned my smile up to eleven as Gran used to instruct me.
“Please, don’t worry about that at all. This is an oceanfront B&B, after all. We’re used to a little bit of water.” I held one of the towels out to him. It was pink, and when I flicked it open, the big red heart in the corner hung between us. He glared at the towel, or at me, I wasn’t sure.
“You just worry about getting warmed up,” I assured him, shaking the towel in his direction.
“Are your feet okay?” I asked, shoving the fuzzy pink socks at him next.
My smile didn’t falter. His face, on the other hand, might have been frozen, his perfect strawberry-blond beard surrounding an equally perfect scowl.
I wiggled the socks and increased the wattage on my smile. Begrudgingly, he yanked them from my hand with such force that I almost lost my balance.
“You must be hungry. I’ll just go scrounge you up something from the kitchen while you change. Like I said, we’re the only ones here, so you can change by the fire.” I draped the sweatsuit and the other towel on the arm of one of the reading chairs that sat in front of the fire.
“Dinner’s not included.” He grunted.
“So you are my guest, then? Mr. Concannon. Welcome to the Lavender Sea! You traveled from Pennsylvania, right? Please tell me you didn’t stop in this horrible weather to eat?”
“Been stuck in it for hours. No stopping.”
“Well, I’m glad you got here safe and sound. I can show you to your room, but I’m afraid the windows in that room are taking the brunt of the storm, and it might be a little drafty. I would really recommend you warm up by the fire and let me feed you.”
He just glared at me.
“So, I’m going to leave you to it. There are blankets in that chest under the window and a bathroom down the hall.
I’ll be back in a few, but the kitchen is just down that way.
” I pointed. “Holler if you need anything.” It was not possible for me to stretch my smile any wider, and my voice was finding octaves even I didn’t know I could reach.