Chapter 23
Dean
I’m not sure what Grace was warned about on the phone, but it’s definitely changed her mood. It kind of makes me nervous about the surprise I have for her. With the plow hooked up to the front of my truck, we’re clearing the fresh layer of snow that’s laid on my road as we wind down the hill.
“When I was a kid, plowing snow was my favorite way to make side money.”
“Doesn’t the county clear these roads?”
“Yeah, but it might take them a few days. Some families can’t wait that long, so Nick and I clear the back roads whenever we can. Unless we’re all trapped in a big one.”
“The big one that’s never coming,” she teases.
I’ve been telling her a huge snowstorm is on the way, but so far nature’s making a liar out of me. We pass an old pickup truck, and Honey Pete lifts his hand off the steering wheel to wave hello as he drives by. I do the same back.
“Do you know everyone here?”
“Pretty much.” I shrug. “That man’s been here since before the dinosaurs. He’s a beekeeper who sells honey at the farmer’s market.”
Grace sighs, dreamily. “Of all the places I’ve ever been, this is the best one. ”
I don’t believe that for a second. “This can’t beat the French Alps.”
“It does.”
“California?”
“No contest.”
“Hawaii.”
She tilts her head, her lips pursing while she pretends to think about it. “Maui is amazing. But this place is still my top pick.”
“The thin mountain air must have suffocated your brain cells.”
She playfully flips me off and we listen to music all the way into town. She’s convinced I’ll learn to like musicals. I’m sure she’s wrong. But I’ll listen to anything she wants if it earns me one of her golden smiles. My girl leans her head back comfortably and stares out the window. “This town makes me feel like I’m in a Hallmark movie.”
We pass the old movie theater, flower shop, and music store on our right. To the left is the firehall, library, and ballet studio. A little further down is the grocery store and the bar. Benches line the street, with lit up trees and flowerpots stuffed with oversized ornaments and plastic snowflakes. Most of the shop windows are decorated with heavy garland and candy canes. There’s also a big, decorated fir tree at what we call the square in the center of town.
“The town is kicking off the holidays a little early this year. Tonight’s the Jingle Jubilee and tree lighting ceremony.” I haven’t been to one since I was a teenager. “Would you go with me?”
Her face lights up. “Dean Morgan, are you asking me out on a date, while taking me to the date?”
I suck at this. “Yeah? ”
“What if I don’t want to go?”
That wipes the smile from my face. “Then I’ll take you back home.”
“Well, now I’m torn.” Grace frowns. “Cute date or go home and fuck. This is unfair.”
“No one said I can’t take you on a cute date, then go home and fuck your brains out, sugar.”
“You always say the best things.” She flips the visor down and checks her mascara. “If I’d known, I would have put on something cuter.”
“You look amazing in everything you wear.” My girl is in an oversized ivory sweater, dark blue cargo pants, and she’s got one of my beanies on her head. Her dark hair is braided back, the tail draped over her shoulder, which is a constant temptation for me to pull on.
Grace’s brows pinch. “But we have work to do.”
“It can wait.” Those words have never come out of my mouth before. “We’ve got a little time before it officially starts. Want to grab a hot chocolate?”
She squeals and claps her hands. “Yes!”
This woman makes me feel like I’ve hung the moon when I’ve barely done a thing for her. It’s confusing. Nice, but confusing. It makes me suspect she’s only dated men who’ve given her the bare minimum… and I’m not a bare minimum man.
“Don’t move.” Hopping out of the truck, my heart gallops as I hurry around to her side and open the passenger door. She takes my hand and squeals again. My knees almost buckle from the warmth her smile shoots into my chest. Man, I’m such a goner for her.
We make our way down the street, with the coffee shop dead ahead. The board out front has a list of specialty drinks, but before we get there, Grace halts. “Hang on. I want to grab some lotion and hair oil to send to Nicole.”
She deviates from our path, and we enter Sindra’s Soap Shop instead.
“Hi guys!” Sindra saunters over with a huge grin. It’s a little weird, if I’m honest. She’s not usually so cheery.
“How’s it going?” I ask, nervously.
“Couldn’t be better.” She stares at me even harder.
I don’t like it. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” She fails at her attempt to look clueless. “I’m just in awe, that’s all.” She bats her lashes and holds her hand to her chest. “It’s not every day we have a celebrity in the house.”
Grace freezes over by the shampoo bars, eyes wide, and mouth parting as her jaw drops to the linoleum.
Sindra saunters over to a new display that’s all decorated up. “You should test my newest fragrance.”
“Uh. Okay?” I’m so confused. Why is she acting this weird? “Did you eat and drink enough water today, Sindra?”
“Shut up and get over here.” She plucks a glass vial of beard oil from the table and unscrews the top. “Here, hold out your hand.”
I’m not about to defy her. She’s not acting right.
Sindra puts a few drops into my palm, and I rub my hands together, then bring them up to my nose. It smells like cloves and oranges and… balsam fir, maybe? I don’t know. It’s nice though .
“Go on,” she urges, waiting for me to do something else.
I cautiously run the oil through my beard and turn to Grace for some help here. I give her a look that practically begs her to save me, and Grace reads my message loud and clear. She strides over with a basket full of products and literally pulls me by my beard, down to her.
Fucking hell, I think a new kink just unlocked.
Blood rushes to my dick as I get handled by my facial hair and Grace smells me, inhaling deeply like she can’t get enough. “Oh, that’s good.” She sniffs me again. “Holy shit, you nailed it, Sindra.”
“I thought so too,” the woman says proudly.
She spins the bottle around so I can read the label. My cheeks instantly flare with embarrassment.
Mountain Wood .
Kill. Me. Now.
Sindra leaps up to wrap her arms around my neck and hugs me. “Thank you so much for what you did, Dean. I can’t believe you didn’t say anything the other day when I told you I had that influx of orders!” She gives Grace a big hug next. “I can’t thank you two enough.”
“Your skincare is phenomenal,” Grace says once she can breathe again. “I’m sending this stuff to my best friend, Nicole. She’s going to love it.”
“You help yourself to anything here, honey. My treat.”
“No, please. Let me pay.”
Sindra refuses to take Grace’s money and drops an extra bottle of Mountain Wood beard oil into the bag too, along with a soap bar and shampoo bar that also have my goddamn handle on them. “I can’t believe my products are trending right now. Trending !” she says louder, like we didn’t hear her the first time. “This is so exciting!”
She drops a bath bomb into the bag like we’re here to Trick or Treat. “You two have a fun time at the tree lighting. And then go on home and warm up with these goodies.” Plop, plop . Two more bottles go into the bag.
“Woman, stop giving your whole store away.” I snag the bag and close it before she can add anything else.
Sindra won’t stop smiling as she walks us to the door and opens it for us.
“You’re too sweet. Thank you!” Grace says, waving goodbye.
I walk out of there feeling like I’m in some kind of twilight zone. “She saw my account.”
“Well, you did go viral, babe.” Grace hooks her arm with mine.
“She made a line of beard oil with my fucking handle on it.”
“Smells so good too. Makes me want to fuck you.”
Any other time, that statement would have me guiding her right back to my truck so I could give her what she wants. But I can’t wrap my head around what just happened, and it’s got me all flustered.
“How many people do you think know about my account now?”
Grace leans her head into my arm as she escorts me down the sidewalk. “Mm, probably everyone.”
Is she joking? I can’t tell .
We enter the coffee shop and get in line. I’m suddenly self-conscious of every pair of eyes that swing my way.
“That smells really, really fucking good.” Grace practically purrs against me, her nose tipped up towards my chin.
My gaze swings to hers. Her pupils are big. I can’t tell you how much I love seeing that level of reaction from her. It’s the hottest thing ever.
“Behave,” I warn, bending down to kiss her pretty little mouth.
“And if I don’t?”
She’ll win either way. My girl’s a brat and a boss, depending on her mood. I’m just the beneficiary. “Do you want to see the tree lit up or—”
“Hi guys!” Taylor comes into the café, her cheeks and nose bright red. Conner’s right behind her carrying a bunch of shopping bags. “Are you staying for the Jubilee?”
“Yeah,” Grace says, hooking her arm with mine again. “We’re on a date.”
“Ohhh.” Taylor waggles her eyebrows. “Dean, do you even know how to go on one of those?”
I flip her the bird.
Conner drops all her bags onto an empty table. “I can’t take much more of this torture, woman.”
“A deal’s a deal, dude.” Taylor looks over at me and explains, “Since I was his DD for poker night, he’s my bag bitch for the Jingle Jubilee.”
“Looks like you’ve had a head start,” I tease, staring at all her bags.
“Hey, at least Conner can skip arm day at the gym.” Taylor grins .
“She shops like it’s an Olympic sport and she’s going for gold.” Conner fusses, massaging his biceps.
Taylor ignores him and turns to Grace. “So, I just finished the Face-lift Fuckboy episode.”
“And?” Grace’s eyes light up and she holds her breath.
“I have so many questions.”
The girls trail off and sit at the table while me and Conner wait in line. He bumps my shoulder. “It’s good to see you off the mountain. This is like, the second time in a month. That’s a record for you, man.”
“I’ll try to not make a habit of it.”
We order our drinks and join the ladies just as Grace says, “How could he have left a single hair at the crime scene like that? What an idiot.”
“So lazy.” Taylor leans in. “What I couldn’t wrap my head around though was how did he get the face to stick?”
I place Grace’s mug in front of her and sit down, quietly.
“I know, right?” She holds her mug with both hands. “I just kept imagining it looking like a collagen mask.”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Conner passes Taylor her drink.
“That podcast you didn’t want to listen to, wimpy-wimp.” She takes a sip. “Mmm. That’s gooood.”
Grace pokes a marshmallow with her cinnamon stick. “I think it would be sticky if the blood dried a little. But then how does he look down to fuck?” She purses her lips and tips her head back. “Oh, maybe he didn’t look down, but looked up? ”
“Makes sense.” Taylor shrugs. “What about the smell though?”
“If he’s peeling the faces off men who did his girlfriend dirty and then fucking her while wearing them as a mask, I don’t think the smell is his biggest issue.”
Conner chokes on his drink.
“You have a point.” Taylor nods. “It’s kind of romantic though, right?”
“In a very grotesque, villainy sort of way, for sure.” Grace glances over at me. “What?”
“You’re terrifying.” My words come out like a compliment, which she loves.
“You say the sweetest things.”
Grabbing her braid, I gently pull her to me and kiss her.
“This new beard oil is going to drive me insane,” she warns, her mouth brushing mine while she talks. “I’m in so much trouble.”
I bite her bottom lip. “Yeah, you are.”
A burst of cold air hits us as the door opens.
“Okay, you two, knock it off. This is a family friendly place and you’re about to hit the naughty list,” Nick says, dragging a chair loudly across the floor to join us. He straddles it, wearing an obnoxious smile on his face. “How’s it going, Mountain Wood?”
Taylor giggles.
“Can I get your autograph, bro?”
I flip Nick off.
“Hey, it’s not every day your best friend turns famous. You’re a big deal now, man.”
“Really big,” Grace adds. “So. Fucking. Big.”
Burying my face in my hands, I grumble, “Kill me now. ”
“How many views are you up to?” Taylor asks. “Last I checked it was over one million.”
What? That can’t be right. I pull out my cell and open the app.
One point seven million.
Nick looks over my shoulder and whistles. “That’s impressive. The payout’s going to be sweet.”
There are a ton of notifications and a bunch of message requests. Out of curiosity, I open one.
It’s a woman’s hitting on me.
The next message is even more filthy.
The third stops my heart…
Hi Dean. You probably don’t remember me, but I used to go to Bear Creek Cabins with my family every summer. I saw your video on Grace Finch’s account (huge fan of hers!) Are you opening back up in the spring? I checked your site, but it’s down. I’d love to bring my kids. Hope you’re doing well.
I read it twice, the second time, out loud.
“Huh, wonder what happened with the website?” Conner pulls his phone out to check it himself.
“I turned the reservation feature off,” I say, reeling that someone’s already looking to book a cabin in the spring.
Nick nudges me. “You need to get those cabins done. ASAP.”
“I know.”
“I’ll help. Work’s slowing down for me anyway and I don’t mind pushing through the cold.” Nick works in construction.
“I just have to get the money first,” I say. “But yeah, I’m going to take you up on that offer. If you really don’t mind. ”
“You know me. If I’m not working, I’m getting into trouble.” Nick snags my drink and chugs some. “Ever think of crowdfunding?”
Grace, who’s looking out the window while we talk, seems to sit up straighter all of a sudden.
When she doesn’t say anything, I answer Nick’s question. “I’m not asking strangers on the internet for donations.”
Nick goes for gold. “What do you think, Grace?”
She turns away from the window, her brow pinched with what looks like worry. “My bestie Nicole does fundraisers all the time. She raises millions.”
Yeah. That’s not happening. Especially after seeing Grace’s expression. She must not like the idea, and honestly neither do I. “I’ll earn my money.” Shit, that came out harsh. “I mean, I appreciate the idea, but donations don’t sit right with me. I’d rather do things the way I am.”
“You might not have that kind of time,” Nick reminds me. “Start a fund, Dean. Keep making videos showing the renos and have the link in your bio.”
“I’ll think about it.”
The lie is bitter on my tongue. But he’s right. I’m running out of time, and unless the payouts from these videos are massive, I’ll be out of money faster than the snow that’s falling.