Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Crescent Lake is absolutely gorgeous.
Despite it being as cold as fuck here, the grass is deep green and lush. Many of the trees still cling to their rainbow leaves, occasionally floating to the ground when rustled by a breeze.
As I drive through the Main Street area, and a bit beyond, everywhere I turn are beautiful autumn-themed decorations—giant cornucopias, oversized metalwork leaves painted in all the autumn colors—mixed with some of the cutest cartoon-style turkeys, some blow-ups, others weighted plastic.
Storefront windows are all decorated from the inside out, some painted with Thanksgiving scenes, others with string-light candy corn or acorns.
The backdrop to this beautiful scene is a serene mountain range that looks like a painting you’d find in a museum. It leaves me breathless.
Vibes so cozy wrap around my whole body that I can’t help but grin.
The Cozy Crescent is not far from Main Street, about four blocks west, sitting on the crest of a hill.
It looks like a quaint European cottage, gray stones of all shapes, sizes, and shades make walls, the roof is steep-pitched, and I count two chimney stacks.
The front door is bright red, an autumn-themed wreath hangs from it, the fixed window shutters are the same color as the door.
I travel around to the back, following the perfectly manicured grass line and entering a smooth asphalt parking area.
I park just at the back of the building and climb out of my car, shivering in my hoodie as I lock up, then walk to the pretty stone path that circles back around to the front.
When I’m almost at the door, I turn toward the street and stare in awe at the sight before me.
From here, nearly all the town is in view, from the farthest mountains to the town’s namesake lake, to Main Street with all its decorations.
Something about this place makes me feel more peaceful than ever.
I turn to the bright red door and am certain coming here was the right choice as I turn the knob and push it open.
Inside, I’m greeted with a design that melds rustic and modern in a way that just works.
There’s a hotel-style wooden desk ahead, backed by a flight of stairs. The desk is small with a lamp and a computer.
The entry is wide open, with a sprawling living room on the left, a large TV mounted to the wall, and ample seating, a beautiful fireplace with a stone face in the corner.
“Hello!” a jovial voice calls, and my gaze snaps to the doorway at the back of the entry where a tall, lean Alpha stands, donning a white apron and wiping his hands on a towel.
His smile is bright white and kind, his brown hair mussed about his head, making him look even more youthful than he must be.
My heart gives a little stutter at the sight of him, then kicks in my chest when he approaches and I get a good look at his dark blue eyes. I’ve never seen sapphires in person before, but I would place a cash-money bet that this guy’s eyes are even more beautiful than the jewels.
His head tilts, a curious look overtaking his face. “I’m Will,” he explains, his voice a bit deeper, softer, now that he’s only a couple feet away. “Are you checking in?”
My mouth opens, and I wheeze a little.
That’s new.
Clearing my throat, I try again. “Yes.” My voice is way too breathy. “Yes,” I repeat, a little more forceful now. “I’m Isabelle Ross. I have a reservation.”
When he smiles at me again, there’s a twinkle in his eye, like he’s trying to hold back a laugh.
I’m almost insulted.
“Would you like help with your luggage?”
“Um,” I consider.
“Your room is upstairs,” he offers.
Ah. “You know what? I could use a hand.”
That grin is going to permanently affect my heartbeat.
He puts his towel on the check-in desk and gestures for me to head for the door. “After you.”
Right. After me. To my car. For my luggage.
Is it normal for someone’s brain to stop working in the presence of a good-looking man? Maybe it’s my lack of sleep.
Once we’re outside, something smells absolutely delicious. It takes me a minute to realize I recognize the scent, like the finest vanilla bean ice cream. The scent fills my lungs and even my mouth, making it water.
I must be starving.
At my tiny SUV in the parking lot, I open the back hatch and the handsome Will leans close to help remove my wheeled bags, and that vanilla bean scent wraps around my entire body. I shudder.
“Were you baking?”
The words tumble from my lips, and I cringe at myself. This fabulous scent can’t possibly be from anything other than Will himself. This super-hot Alpha smells like my favorite dessert. And the pink tinging his cheeks when he looks at me confirms it.
I’ve embarrassed him. I’m a complete idiot.
“I’m sorry,” I rush out. “That was really rude of me. I’m super tired, and my brain-to-mouth filter isn’t working, and I meant no disrespect! You smell really good, and I didn’t mean—”
“So do you.” His interruption of my word-vomit is quiet, but firm as he pulls the second suitcase from my car. “Blossoms,” he says. “Lemon, if I’m not mistaken.”
I blink at him, shocked. “That… that’s right.”
Then it dawns on me. I couldn’t smell him inside the B&B. They must require scent neutralizers in communal lodgings, even here in a small town.
If I’d gotten some more sleep, I’d probably have realized that right away.
I let out a sigh. “I’m really sorry, Will.” I use his name on purpose, something I learned in business. Create a connection by being personal. “I’m not making a very good first impression, and I’m going to be staying here a while.”
He smiles at me for the first time since we exited the B&B, those blue eyes sparkling. “You have nothing to apologize for, Isabelle.”
“Please, call me Izzy.” I do my best to smile back, but I doubt mine is anywhere near as gorgeous as his.
“Izzy,” he repeats like he’s trying it on for size. “Beautiful.”
He holds my gaze for a long time, but I feel no discomfort. In fact, I find myself leaning a bit closer over the two suitcases set on the ground between us.
“I’ll take these,” he says suddenly, breaking our connection and pulling the handles up from the two cases. He gestures with his head to my laptop bag. “Can you get that one?”
“Oh, yeah.”
After taking my laptop and purse out of my car, I close everything up and lock the doors, then follow Will back into the B&B, where almost immediately I mourn the loss of that mouth-watering vanilla scent of his.
I try my best not to frown as I follow Will upstairs after he grabs a key from behind the front desk. We stop outside a beautiful mahogany door with a golden plate on it, etched with a black 2 in a flourished script.
“Here we are,” he says, almost like singing it, as he puts the key in the lock and turns the knob along with it. He peers at me beside him. “We still use old school keys, but…”
When he opens the door to my room, I can’t hold in my gasp.
The room is all cream and white with black and brown accents, classic four-poster bed frame with canopy top, the dressers and nightstands matching black wood.
There’s a big TV on a stand across from the foot of the bed, and a huge window at the back of the room, dressed with curtains.
In front of the window is a small, round table with two brown leather chairs, a standing lamp behind each of them.
“Your bathroom is here,” Will says after rolling my suitcases into the room and stepping to the door beside the bed. He opens it, and I follow automatically, standing beside him and peering through the door.
The room is a delicate mix of cream and white, like the main colors of the bedroom. A toilet, a standing shower, and—oh, fuck yes—a whirlpool tub!
As I gape at everything around me, I notice two things.
One, I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut since I’ve arrived here, and two, Will is very, very warm.
His body heat radiates off him like he’s an area heater beside me.
The ease that overtakes me is something foreign, like his heat wants to wrap around my body, seep into my bones, warm me to my core.
I look up at his face, and he’s peering down at me. He’s clean-shaven, and that jaw is angular and chiseled, but it looks so soft to the touch that my fingers twitch.
I want to grope a complete stranger’s face.
What the flying fuck is wrong with me?
“So, do you have family in town, Izzy?”
My eyelids flutter what must be a million times as my brain fights to register his question. When it finally does, I utter, “Nope.”
He blinks, his brown brows rising a touch. “Oh. It’s just that you booked through Thanksgiving…”
Oh boy. “Yeah.” I frown a bit. “I needed time away from my fam this year, and a friend suggested this would be a great place to do that.”
A strange look crosses his super-hot face, those blue eyes squinting a bit before he places the room key in my hand, backs up a few steps, then makes his way to the door.
“Well, welcome to The Cozy Crescent. If you need anything at all, I’m right downstairs. I’ll probably be in the kitchen.” He scans the room, then looks back at me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, so unlike the bright and happy expressions he’d shared before now.
“I’ll leave you to unpack.”
And he’s gone, closing the door behind him.
Well, that was… weird.
I don’t know what I said to upset him, but as I move the suitcase with my clothing in it to the bed and unzip it, a strange emptiness forms in my chest.
At first, I ignore it, unpacking and putting my things away in the dressers and closet, but it isn’t long before that feeling grows unbearable. And I recognize the sensation as loneliness.
But… why?
I came here to avoid my family, and thinking on it honestly, I don’t miss them.
The phone call I’d placed to lie to their faces and tell them I had to work through the holiday and would get a big bonus for it had gone far smoother than I’d anticipated.
I mean, they’ll have Christian “The Saint” there, my Alpha older brother and family success story.
Not like they’d miss me, the failure Omega daughter.
Before I know it, I’m frowning, and anger is overtaking that loneliness. But it’s still there in the background.
Well, even though I don’t know why I feel this way, only one thing can cure loneliness.
Company.