CHAPTER ONE - 2
Since Peach moved out last December, I’ve hated going home to my empty condo.
I let myself in and sigh at the dreary sight before me. The place is dimly lit by the Christmas lights I’ve strung from the ceiling but is otherwise bare of decoration. I’m a fashionista all day long, but have no idea how to interior design.
I don’t bother with flicking on a light. The ambiance matches my mood.
No one should be able to see me cry, even when I’m all alone.
Christmas is only a few weeks away, but I haven’t gotten a tree. There just isn’t any point when I’m the only one who’s going to see it.
Especially since it’s been nearly a year since I’ve brought a man home for a night of fun. I love men and casual sex. I love any kind of sex, any time, anywhere. But for a long time, it’s done nothing but make me feel lonelier.
“Ugh,” I groan aloud. “Get your shit together, Porter.” Even I’m sick of listening to myself complain. Not that I complain to anyone else. I keep that shit inside where it belongs.
I’m just in a rut. For months, I’ve figured Peach will move back in with me. At the very least, I’ve been sure she and Nick would break up and she’d have more time for me. Now, she’s marrying him and I’m going to have to accept it might be years before I get her back.
It must be something about this town. It convinces people love is real and Christmas lasts all year.
Not me, though. I’ll never lose sight of the truth. People only care about themselves, first and foremost, and men are guaranteed to let you down. The only people you can really trust or count on are yourself and maybe a sister, a cousin, and a friend or two. That’s it.
I plop onto the couch and pull off my boots. One plus to living alone is that I can just toss my boots in the vicinity of the door and there’s no one here to complain or trip over them.
My phone dings in my hand as I’m pulling it out of my purse and some of my hurt eases at the sight of Peach’s name. She’s sent me the name of the venue. She didn’t send me anything else. Clearly, she’s still worried about me meddling. I’ll get the names of the vendors out of her. I’ll just have to operate discreetly.
I change into my comfiest clothes and settle onto the couch for an evening of research.
From the website, Peach’s venue looks lovely. All green grass, wildflowers, and mountain views. There’s even a large house where guests can stay right there on the property.
There are only ten bedrooms, though. I hope Peach and Nick noticed that. It will be a disaster if they invite too many guests to stay.
I hit Peach’s contact, but stop myself before I make the call. She’ll get suspicious if I bother her with a bunch of questions. Or is that a normal thing a sister would do?
Gah. I hate having to change my entire personality to make everyone else happy.
Instead, I do a thorough analysis of the venue and it takes me nearly an hour to find a negative post on social media. It’s from a woman who got married at Peach’s venue just three months ago. Not only was the place filthy, but a staff member groped one of her guests, and three people got food poisoning from the breakfast the venue provided.
This is not the place for Peach’s wedding. Again, I scroll to her contact information, but I stop myself a second time. I can’t tell her what I’ve found. She’ll say I don’t trust her to do things on her own.
Which is ridiculous. I just know how busy she is with her bakery and her torrid love affair and the demands of our mother she still only sometimes ignores. I’m doing what any sister would do.
This is all Nick’s fault. Just because I didn’t like the guy in the beginning and warned Peach to stay away from him, she’s decided I need to back off.
So what if I also threatened Nick, more than once? I wasn’t wrong to be suspicious. He played hot and cold with her for way too long before they got together. How was I supposed to know he’s actually a good guy?
She just needs time to realize everything I did for her, apologize, and ask me to go back to being there for her in the ways a good sister should.
I spend the next couple of hours finding the perfect venue for Peach’s wedding. It’s about an hour outside Sugar Valley, and I can’t find anyone saying a bad word about it. It’s got a lot more room for guests, and it’s way up in the mountains with amazing views.
Now, I just need to figure out how to tell her about it without telling her about it.
I get up and pace, phone gripped in one hand.
Maybe I could mention it randomly when she’s around?
No, she’ll see right through that.
I need someone else to tell her about it, someone she’d never in a million years suspect. Someone she’d never be able to claim heard it from me.
Even after I figure out exactly what I need to do, it takes me another fifteen minutes of pacing and exploring every possible option to work up the nerve to lift my phone and hit the contact number. It’s after nine at night and he seems like the early to bed type, but this can’t wait.
“Yo, you’ve got Garrick.”
“What are you? An eighth-grade boy?”
“Mayor. Are you calling to criticize my phone etiquette, or do you actually want something?”
I groan inwardly. I wish I could think of anyone else in the entire world to ask this favor. “I just need you to spread the word about this great vacation spot in the mountains. The owners could use more business and I’ve agreed to help out.”
“Uh-huh? And why do you want to help them?”
“I had a few martinis with them last weekend. They’re, um, good people.”
“Okay. So tell everyone about it. Why do you need me?”
“Because it would seem weird coming from me. The mayor shouldn’t be seen supporting a business from another town, and you work in a locals-only bar in your free time. You’ve got easy access to the ears of the people.”
“Right. Well, I’m not interested in marketing some resort for one of your hook-ups. You’ll have to find someone else.”
I may not have had an actual one-night stand in nearly a year, but I do go out and flirt with guys. I might even make out with someone occasionally. Just to test the waters. I’ve always restricted myself to tourists, never locals, but somehow Garrick knows about it. The man seems to know everything about everyone.
“It wasn’t some guy I hooked up with, Garrick. It was a friend. A woman. She’s still a friend. A good friend.” I pinch my lips together tight before I make this worse. Lying has never been a skill of mine.
“Mayor. I didn’t know you liked to sleep with women, too. You are suddenly a lot more interesting.”
“I don’t sleep with women, Garrick. Usually. There was one time—” What the hell am I doing? I don’t care if he thinks I’m interesting. “It has nothing to do with sex. I just want to help another woman.”
“I can’t market a resort I know nothing about. I need more information. I’ll be at your place in two minutes.”
“Two minutes? How do you know where I live?”
“Small town.”
“You don’t need to come here. I’ll just send you the link.”
“Look at that. I’m here.”
“What? Why are you here? I don’t want you here.” I look down at my worn out sweatpants and my favorite, softest sweater that has a few holes and a mustard stain. “Go away.”
“Can’t. I was in the middle of a tough situation when you called and you’ve given me the solution I need. You must have sensed me in the area.”
All my danger alarms go on full alert. Garrick Evergreen is never nice to me. Oh, he’s always charming and shoveling shit in my direction with a smile, but everything he does is done to make my life harder. It’s almost like he enjoys it. And I don’t deserve it just because one time I slapped him with a fine for using our city vehicles without permission. And maybe he sees me as the obstacle to getting permits he needs to expand his outdoor business. Even though I’m not.
The man can hold a grudge like nobody’s business.
“I didn’t sense you in the area. If I could have thought of anybody else in the world to help me, I would have called them.”
“Nah, I’m not buying it. You wanted to see me. This visit is meant to be.”
“What is wrong with you? There’s nothing about the two of us that’s meant to be. We’d both be happier if we lived on different sides of the planet.”
He chuckles and I hate the sexy, smoky rumble of it. “That is one thing we can agree on, Miss Mayor.”
Garrick doesn’t knock gently. He bangs on the door like he’s mad at it.
I jump and let out a small shriek.
That damn sexy chuckle rolls right under the door and up my spine.
“No,” I say into the phone. “I’m not letting you in.”
“You want my help? You’ll open this door.”
I pace my small apartment three more times. I really do need his help, but nothing good will come of me opening that door. Whatever he has for me will not be good. It will probably be life-ruiningly bad.
Unfortunately, not opening that door will mean a sub-par wedding experience for Peach and her first wedding should be perfect in every way.
I stomp over to the door and fling it open. “Fine. What do you—?”
Garrick shoves something soft and furry into my arms. “This is for you.”
The furry creature is wriggling, and it has sharp claws. “Ow. What the—?”
“Be right back with the rest.” Garrick turns and walks away, leaving me with a clawing, hissing beast.
“Garrick Evergreen, get back here—Ow! What?” The beast leaps out of my arms onto the kitchen counter that’s about five feet from where I’m standing. It then vaults onto the top of the refrigerator where it faces me, fur sticking up all over its skinny body, and hisses.
It’s a cat. A furious, possibly terrified, cat.
Garrick wouldn’t hesitate to put me in harm’s way, but he’s too crunchy granola, save the planet to actually hurt an animal. What the hell is he doing?
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask the man himself as he appears in my doorway again, his arms full of some sort of plastic box filled with bags of cat food and kitty litter. “You aren’t going to leave this thing here, are you?”
He shoulders past me and looks around my place. I’ve lived here for nearly three years, mostly alone, and I haven’t devoted a lot of time to interior design. There’s one couch in the living room, a small TV in the corner, and my bed in one of the two bedrooms. I don’t even have a kitchen table, because it’s easier to eat at the counter, sitting on a stool.
The other bedroom was Peach’s for a few months, before she got sick of me and moved out. Someday, I’ll put a desk in there, but for now it’s bare.
It’s a far cry from how I lived in Vegas, when every night was a party and I had friends over as often as possible. It’s hard to find the time for parties as the mayor of Yuletide, and even harder to make friends when I’m the outsider proposing laws and bossing everyone around.
“Nice place,” Garrick says with one raised eyebrow. “Not surprised you prefer the dark, like the demon you are.”
“I’m not keeping that cat, so whatever you think you’re doing, just turn around and leave.”
Garrick shrugs. His hair is pulled back in a man bun, his beard scruffier than usual. He’s probably just back from a camping trip. Apparently, shaving and grooming is difficult when you’re sleeping in the wild.
I wouldn’t know. Grooming is breathing as far as I’m concerned.
“If you don’t want the cat, I’ll have to take her to the kill shelter.”
My heart sinks. I can’t let this cat be killed, but… No, he’s got to be messing with me. “There’s no such thing as a kill shelter. She’ll be adopted.”
He snorts and tilts his head toward the cat, who’s still on top of my fridge, bristled and glaring at us. “Oh, yeah, she’ll win over a great family. Not one that’ll use her for target practice.”
“I’m sure you can find someone else to take her.”
He sets the box down in the corner farthest from the kitchen. “This a good spot for the litter box?”
I stomp one foot. “Garrick. I’m not taking this cat.”
He straightens and faces me. “Okay. I’m sure no one will think less of you for not taking in an animal in need. Everyone will understand you had no choice but to send her to the kill shelter.”
“Gah.” This man is so annoying. I stomp across the room and poke a finger in his chest.
His surprisingly firm chest. The scent of cedar and cinnamon wraps around me as I stare up into his stupid face. Why does he have to smell so damn good?
He smirks down at me like he knows exactly the effect he’s having on me.
I focus back on the situation at hand. “I didn’t ask for this cat and I don’t want it. Find someone else.”
He grabs my finger and pulls it away from his chest. His hand is warm and calloused, and a small gasp slips from between my lips at the feel of his skin against mine.
My cheeks heat and I want to be swallowed up by the floor, because there’s no way he didn’t hear that gasp.
He gives no indication that he’s noticed anything. He shakes his head sadly, not letting go of my finger. “Unfortunately, there’s no one else. Everyone I know already has a pet and, as I’m sure you can tell, this cat doesn’t play well with others. You’re her only hope.”
I hate him. I hate Garrick Evergreen with the hatred of a thousand hell fires. But I won’t mind if he never stops holding my finger. It’s been way too long since I’ve been laid. “Why are you doing this?” Was that my voice sounding all breathy? What the hell is wrong with me?
His eyes widen and his lips curl up into a wicked smile as he squeezes my finger to the point just before pain.
He leans in close like he wants to breathe me in or kiss me.
A dog barks somewhere outside and he blinks like he’s waking up from a dream.
He finally lets go of my finger and takes a step back. “I found the cat in the alley behind the bar and she needs a home. Barry found her. It’s not safe for her out there in the middle of winter.”
Barry is his dog. A giant mutt with a personality - affable, friendly, and playful - that matches Garrick’s so well it’s almost comical. Well, matches Garrick’s personality with everyone who isn’t me. Garrick goes out of his way to help every single person in this town. Except me.
There’s no good way out of this. “Fine, but if this cat kills me in my sleep, it’ll be on your conscience.”
I hate him for looking so good when he laughs. The lines around his mouth and eyes crinkle, his hazel eyes seem to glow like amber. He throws his whole being into the laugh, enjoying the moment, even letting his eyes slide closed like he doesn’t need to watch out for trouble.
With me in the room, that’s probably pretty stupid, except I’m enthralled.
The laugh rolls over me and I want to lean into it, to rub my body against that sound, to wrap it around me and curl up on the couch. That sound is what my apartment’s been missing.
“The cat isn’t going to kill you in your sleep, Mayor. She just needs some time to know she’s safe here. If there’s anyone who can handle her, it’s you.”
“Mr. Evergreen.” I lift my chin and bat my eyelashes. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”
He pulls out a pocketknife and slashes open the bag of kitty litter far enough to be able to dump a layer of it in the bottom of the plastic bin. His forearms flex as he works, because of course he’s walking around in December in the mountains of Colorado without a coat, the sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up to reveal tanned skin and muscular forearms. How does he still have a tan in December?
The man is infuriating on so many levels, not least of which is his effortless beauty.
He stands and gives me a charming smile. “That wasn’t a compliment, just a statement of fact. You and that cat share a very similar personality. You’re both raging lunatics with sharp claws and anger issues.”
“I don’t have anger issues.”
“Uh-huh.” He grabs two small bowls and a mat he pulls from seemingly nowhere and carries them into my kitchen. He sets the mat out and fills the first bowl with water.
“I don’t have anger issues, Garrick. You are just the most entitled, infuriating man I’ve ever met.”
He sets down the water bowl on the mat, walks back through the living room and grabs the bag of cat food. He uses the same pocket knife on the bag of food, carries it to the kitchen, and dumps a bit of dry food in the second bowl. “Keep her on dry food for about a week until you’re sure she’s tolerating it. Then you can try the wet food. Where do you want me to store the food and litter?”
“In the pantry.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the cat also glaring at him and I huff. I am nothing like that damn cat.
Garrick puts both bags in the pantry and heads for the door.
“Wait,” I say. “You haven’t even heard about the favor I need.”
He stops and turns, crossing his arms over his chest, those damn forearms flexing. “From the most entitled, infuriating man you’ve ever met?”
“You owe me, Evergreen. I’m babysitting your damn cat.”
“It’s your cat now. And I don’t do favors for folks who call me names.”
Folks? How old is he? I stare him down, but he’s not budging. “Fine. I’m sorry your feelings were hurt when I called you out for being entitled and infuriating.”
He smirks. “Have a nice night, Mayor.” He turns and reaches for the door.
Damn it. “Fine. I’m sorry for calling you names, okay? It won’t happen again.” Today. It won’t happen again today.
He turns. “So, tell me about this favor and give up on that whole marketing for a friend story you fed me. You’re a terrible liar.”
I really am, but I hate him for knowing any of my weaknesses. “If you spread this story around town, I will—”
“Gut me and feed my entrails to the crows, Demon? The threat’s always implicit between us. Go on.”
“My sister’s getting married and—”
Garrick’s whole face transforms into a cheerful smile. “Way to go, Nick.”
I wave a hand. “Whatever. The point is, Peach and Nick have chosen a horrible venue and they need to be convinced to cancel it and choose the amazing one I’ve found for them.”
“Why don’t you just tell your sister about this other, better venue?”
“You know sisters.” I turn toward the kitchen to signal the conversation is done. The cat on top of my refrigerator hisses like I’m about to invade her territory and she’s ready for war. I take two big steps toward Garrick, which only puts me in closer proximity to his delicious scent. What is that mixed in with the cedar? Is that pheromones? It should be illegal to smell this good.
He narrows his eyes and just stares at me for so long I want to hiss at him like the cat hissed at me.
Finally, he shakes his head. “Nah. Not buying it. Find someone else to do your dirty work.”
“It’s not dirty work. You’re just spreading the word about a truly wonderful wedding venue. Don’t you have siblings? Don’t you want the best for them?”
His expression tightens, and he pushes off the door. “Time for me to go.”
“Fine. Peach thinks I’m overprotective and controlling. She’s asked me to butt out of her life. She won’t listen to anything I say, but she needs to know the truth about this terrible venue she’s chosen before it’s too late.”
Garrick’s eyes light and he licks his lips like he’s just tasted something delicious. “You controlling and overprotective? I don’t see it.”
I throw my hands up. “Exactly.” The cat hisses and I stuff my hands back in my pockets. “Peach is all wrong. I’m the big sister. Looking out for her is my job. She’s just overly sensitive—”
He lifts a hand palm out. The cat doesn’t hiss at him. “I was being sarcastic, Demon. People from space can see you as overprotective and controlling.”
Of course, he’d take the most negative view of me possible. “Whatever. Will you help me?”
He rubs his lips together, tilting his head from side-to-side like he’s considering. He nods, but what comes out of his mouth is, “Absolutely not.”
“Are you being sarcastic again?”
“Nope. I refuse to manipulate your sister and Nick. They’re adults. They can choose their own wedding venue.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m just asking you to say nice things about a wonderful venue. How hard is that?”
He smirks. “I’m not your man, Demon. Find someone else for the job.”
He turns and walks out my door without another word.
I stare after him, completely at a loss.
I look up at the cat. “He said no?”
She hisses at me.
“Yeah, yeah. Clearly, you’re on his side. Like everyone else in this town.