Chapter 2
TWO
EVIE
The gas station was a short walk from the inn, but by the time I got there, I was covered in snow. Muriel waved and called my name, and I felt bad as I tracked snow from one end of the diner to the other.
“Hi, Muriel.” I leaned on the little window that opened to the kitchen.
“One second, honey.” Muriel grabbed a plate of food and the saloon doors smacked the wall as she hurried to deliver it to one of the booths.
A man I didn’t recognize was sitting alone.
He was wearing a T-shirt in the middle of winter and a baseball hat.
I let my eyes linger a little too long on his biceps.
The man was huge, the sleeves of his T-shirt stretched tightly over his massive arm muscles.
Muriel hurried to the kitchen and returned to hand me a big white box. “They’re still warm. Don’t let it tip to the side, though. Some of them have chocolate chips on top. When those suckers are melted they can be messy.”
My grandma had requested beaver tails for her book club.
The box of what were basically flattened donuts was warm, and I pulled my mittens onto my hands, hoping that the grease wouldn’t soak through the bottom of the box.
“Thank you.” I smiled. I hadn’t seen Muriel in years, but she hadn’t changed one bit.
She looked seventy-five when I was ten, and now, thirteen years later, she still looked seventy-five.
“Have you met Charlotte?” Muriel asked.
I shook my head. I had grown up in Chance Rapids but left when my parents divorced.
My father slunk to Florida to live with his new family, and I went off on an adventure with my midlife crisis mother.
Grandma Janie was slowing down and needed some help with the inn over the holidays.
As neither of my parents had a welcoming home, coming back to the inn was a welcome distraction from the dumpster fire of my life.
Muriel took me by my mitten and led me to the booth where a very glamorous-looking woman was drinking warm lemon water. A leather file folder was open on the table in front of her. “Charlotte, this is Evie. Jane, from Snowy Peaks’ granddaughter.”
Charlotte had a beautiful smile and the whitest teeth I’d ever seen. “Nice to meet you, Evie. Your Grannie GJ is quite the character.”
“Is that the nice way of calling her eccentric?” I asked.
Next to Charlotte I felt ridiculous. As an attendee at the Snowy Peaks books club, GJ had insisted that I put on her reindeer vest and wreath earrings—complete with dangly bells.
She finished off my outfit with a sparkly pin that looked vintage but actually had a tiny speaker that played “Jingle Bells” when you pushed on one of the fake rubies.
Charlotte was dressed in a black sweater dress with gold earrings.
The biggest diamond ring I’d ever seen flashed on her perfectly manicured hand.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being called eccentric.” Muriel chuckled. “It’s better than being a bore.”
Charlotte and I both laughed. “That is true. You are definitely not a bore, Muriel.” Charlotte sipped from her mug. “I remember your mom, Evie,” Charlotte said. “Tell her that I said hi. I was just a kid, but she was always so nice to me and my sister, Lauren.”
“I will.” I wouldn’t. I hadn’t heard from my mom in years. “I’d better get these to the book club before they get cold. Those ladies would never forgive me if I showed up with cold beavers.”
The guy at the booth behind Charlotte made a choking sound.
He cleared his throat and then took a sip of his coffee.
Up close, he was younger than I’d first thought—he looked to be right around my age—but I didn’t know too many twenty-three-year-olds who were built like the TV show version of Jack Reacher.
Whoever he was, he must have been starving.
He had cleaned every last bit of food off his plate.
“Let me get the door for you.” The man wiped his mouth with a napkin and then jogged to open the door.
Cold air blasted into the restaurant, and even though I was wearing vintage wool, I couldn’t help but shiver. “Where’s your car?” he asked.
Snow swirled in the lamps above the retro gas pumps.
“I’m walking, it’s not far.” I had only been in the diner for a few minutes, but already the footprints that I’d left in the shin-deep snow on the walk over had disappeared.
It reminded me of the winters we used to have when I was a kid, when a storm could drop enough snow to trap people in their homes.
“Across the street is far in this kind of weather. Let me drive you.”
Chance Rapids was a small town where everyone knew everyone. I trusted people, but I wasn’t na?ve enough to get into a car with a complete stranger.
“Thank you, but really, I’m just going to the Snowy Peaks Inn.”
“Me too. Can you tell me where it is?” The guy’s eyebrows raised. “I drove up and down Christmas Street but couldn’t find Oak Street.”
Muriel, the cook, Kenny, and Charlotte had all turned and were watching the interaction.
“Are you Mr. Tinsel?” I asked. He was a day late.
“The one and only. But you can call me Nick.”
I stepped outside into the snowstorm and he did, too, the door to the diner closing behind us. He was still in his T-shirt, but the cold didn’t seem to bother him.
“You were supposed to check in yesterday.”
His brow wrinkled. “No, my reservation is for today.”
“Oh, GJ.” I shook my head. My grandma had been running Snowy Peaks Inn since she was in her twenties. She was now pushing eighty-three and there had been a couple of mix-ups in the reservations in the past few months.
“GJ?” He crossed his arms, rubbing the goose bumps that pricked up and down the veiny biceps.
“Grandma Janie.” I sighed. “She must have written the date down wrong. She still does everything by hand.”
Nick took the box from my hands. “It’s possible that I wrote it down wrong.”
“You’re being kind.” The wind gusted and the bells hanging from my earlobes jingled.
“If you won’t let me drive. I’ll walk with you. You can show me how to get there.”
His chivalry was awakening the small-town girl inside me. “Let’s drive, you’re not going to be able to dig your truck out tomorrow if this snow keeps coming.”
He smiled, and that’s when I knew I wasn’t making a mistake—he had gentle eyes. The kind that sparkled yet seemed sad. I recognized that look. He hadn’t had an easy life but was a good person. And, if I was wrong, I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be able to kidnap me in the blizzard.
“I’ll start the truck.” He jogged to an old pickup and opened the passenger door for me.
The falling snow melted on his bare arms while he waited for me to get settled into the seat.
He passed me the box of beaver tails and then ran to the driver’s side.
The truck rumbled to life as he turned the key, but he had to gun the engine a couple of times to keep it running.
“Berta is a temperamental girl.” He patted the dashboard.
I laughed.
“What?” he revved the engine one more time and then turned up the heat. The earrings tinkled as my hair fluttered in the warm heat.
“Nothing.” I smiled. “You’d better get in there before Muriel thinks you’ve dined and dashed.”
His face turned serious. “I’ll be right back.”
I watched in the mirror as he jogged back into the G-Spot.
I’d seen good-looking men in Chance Rapids, but all the hot guys had girlfriends or were married.
There were no prospects for a girl like me, and I was fine with that.
I was there to help GJ with the inn, not to run around with scruffy mountain men.
Nick’s back was almost as wide as the door to the diner, and his back muscles rippled underneath his T-shirt.
The thrum between my legs surprised me. I’d only met the guy, but he’d made me want to do something I thought was off the table—wake up on a frosty morning, toasty warm in a hot man’s sheets.
I shook the idea out of my head. Nick was a visitor, and slipping into bed with one of the inn’s patrons wasn’t a smart idea.
When he returned to the truck, he was wearing his jacket, and I was slightly disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to check out his toned forearms as he drove the vintage truck through the snowy streets. He had a thermos in his hands and handed it to me.
“What’s this?” I took the thermos from him and nestled it next to my thigh. It warmed my leg from the side while the box of pastries heated the top of my thighs.
“Muriel insisted that I bring a winter coffee to-go.” I’m lucky that Ranger Rick isn’t around. I’m pretty sure there’s more whiskey in that thermos than coffee.
“You mean Officer Henderson?” I smiled. “I’m pretty sure he’s got a matching thermos in his car right now.”
“Wow.” Nick put the truck into four-wheel drive and the wipers squeaked as they swiped away the snow. “It’s like a whole other world up here.”
“Small town.” I shrugged. “Where are you from?”
“New York. We have small towns there, too, but this feels like I’ve gone back in time.” The bell to the service station dinged as he drove over the cord that ran across the ground.
I could see what Nick was talking about. In Chance Rapids time did seem like it had been paused sometime in the 1960s. I could imagine the gas station attendants, in matching uniforms, running from the shop to check the oil and fill up…Berta.
“Why Berta?” The colorful lights from the Christmas display turned the frosty windows of the old truck into pretty stained glass.
The truck jerked as Nick shifted the truck into reverse.
My heart paused for a beat as Nick draped his arm over the bench seat to back out of the parking spot.
Underneath what appeared to be a five o’clock shadow cut a gorgeous jawline.
His eyes matched the bright blue of the strands of bulbs that hung over Main Street.
He wasn’t just good looking, the man looked like he’d stepped off the pages of a Men’s Health magazine—Mountain Man edition.
“The man who owned the truck before me was from this place in Canada called Alberta. The name came with the truck and it seemed like bad luck to change it.” He put Berta into Drive and returned both hands to the wheel.
“Which way?” He squinted through the windshield, the wipers barely keeping up with the snow falling from the sky.
I pointed my index finger. “This way.”
The smile that spread across his face dented his cheeks.
Not only did he have a chiseled jawline, the man had dimples.
“I’m assuming that you’re pointing east.” He reached across the truck and squeezed my hand…
that was completely covered in my mitten.
There was no way he could see my fingers and which way they were pointing.
Giving him an embarrassed grin, I nodded. “Yes. Take a right.”
Nick took it easy, the truck creeping along at a pace that I’m pretty sure a five-year-old on a tricycle could beat.
“I like the name, old girl.” I patted the dashboard of his truck. “I’m familiar with Alberta. When I was young, I used to barrel race. The circuit took me up there.”
“When you were young?” Nick crooked an eyebrow. “How old are you now?”
“I’m twenty-three.”
“That’s young, Evie. Why aren’t you still barrel racing?”
I hoped that he didn’t detect my sigh. “It’s a long story.”
Nick nudged the bell of my earring. It jingled next to my ear, reminding me of my ridiculous outfit. “Is the story that you’re undercover and you’ve infiltrated a gang of grannies?”
I had forgotten that I was wearing my eighty-year-old librarian outfit.
The smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
I was pretty sure that the heat in my cheeks had turned them the same color as the bells that hung from my earlobes.
“Not just any grannies.” I lowered my voice. “Have you heard of the Dirty Dozen?”
Nick’s lips twitched. He was trying not to smile. “I have.”
I popped the collar of the jacket. “Well, these grannies make those guys look like…” I couldn’t think of anything witty. “Pussies.”
Nick barked out a laugh. “I was not expecting that.” He smiled and shook his head. “You’re telling me that there is a group of renegade granny bank robbers, hiding out at a book club in Chance Rapids?”
“Not just bank robbers, there are a few train robbers in there too. Although Gladys spent the evening complaining that ‘train robbin’ ain’t what it used to be.’” I gave the old-timey shucks hand gesture.
“Well, I suppose I’d better be on my best behavior then.”
I was thankful that Nick had picked up on my reluctance to discuss my barrel racing career.
It was a bit of a sore spot, one that I wasn’t ready to share with a complete stranger.
Nick wasn’t wearing gloves, and I caught myself checking out his ring finger.
My heartbeat thumped a little harder in my chest when I didn’t see a ring.
“Why are you in Chance Rapids? Turn down this road.” I extended my arm this time and motioned with my whole hand toward Walnut Street.
The truck fishtailed as we turned onto the street, then ran behind the inn.
Are you single?
That was the question I really wanted to ask. Part of me hoped that he would answer it when he explained why a ridiculously good-looking man had rolled into a sleepy mountain town a week before Christmas—alone.
“I’m living here for a little while.” Nick’s gaze focused ahead. “I’m the new goalie for the Bobcats.”
“And they’re putting you up in a hotel?”
“Just until I find a place to live.” His voice seemed to lower, the tone turning serious.
“You don’t seem all that thrilled.”
He smiled, but this time with his lips closed. “It looks like we both have a couple of long stories to tell.”
The atmosphere in the truck had changed from fun and flirty to serious and…sad. I couldn’t explain how I knew, but Nick Tinsel was Chance Rapids’ newest resident, and he wasn’t happy about it.