Chapter 3
SILAS
First impression: Wood Hollow was a cute town with an old-timey, mid-twentieth-century feel. Even in the dead of winter when this section of the world was covered with a thick layer of snow—trees, cars, lampposts, benches—and the white stuff just kept falling.
I’d bet it was pretty during the holidays with that authentic feel that Hollywood sought to replicate in those feel-good, wholesome rom-coms…
or in creepy murder mysteries. But for now, it looked like a place forgotten by time.
Quaint, yet something I would have appreciated a fuck of a lot more if the sun had been shining and the thermometer hadn’t been hovering in the late teens.
I felt like an intrepid explorer as I trudged Main Street with my jacket zipped to my chin, my nose buried in the down fabric, peeking into windows.
The town had one of everything the average person would need to get by: Wood Hollow First National Bank, Dexter’s Donuts, Whiskers and Paws Pet Shop, Mike and Sam’s Pizza Parlor, Log Cabin Diner, a hair salon, a clothing boutique—and thank you, baby Jesus, a coffee shop.
A nice one, too. Soft jazz music played from the speakers of Rise and Grind under the hum of conversation, the clink of earthenware, and the whoosh of steam from the heavy-duty machinery behind the counter.
The queue reached the door and looped along a brick wall covered with coffee-themed oil paintings.
There was a still life with beans, a carafe and cup, two friends clinking mugs.
Not fine art by any stretch, but the pieces lent a spot of color in an otherwise monochrome space.
Black-and-white checkerboard flooring, check.
Marble counters and tabletops, check. And the requisite overhead chalkboard menu listing beverages, specials, and a daily coffee-tude.
Today’s read: A morning without coffee is like…sleep.
Check.
I approved. My shoulders slipped from my ears for the first time in what felt like months. The innocuous chatter was oddly calming, even though it was all about the incoming storm.
“We got a foot last night, and they’re calling for another eighteen inches overnight. Maybe more,” a large grizzly-looking dude in an orange winter coat said.
“The kids love it. I bet schools will be closed all week,” a woman with frizzy blond hair and pink cheeks commented.
“As long as the generators are working, it’s gonna be fine.”
I shuffled along and thought about texting Vally to give him a hard time for practically pushing me into the path of a fucking blizzard, but the line moved quickly, and my earlier angst had dissipated.
To be honest, the cold and ice and general buzz in the air got my blood pumping.
Sure, it had sucked to wake up to zero coffee and a rental car buried in snow, but my neighbor had saved the day.
Cooper. Nice guy.
A fucking lumberjack. Huh. I’d never met a real lumberjack till this morning. And now…I was surrounded.
I cast a surreptitious glance at the barrel-chested men huddled at the counter and the even bigger guy placing an order with the cute curly-haired redhead at the register.
I was a six-foot-four seasoned professional athlete, but damn, I was almost petite next to these hulks.
I snickered at the thought as I stepped forward and greeted the barista.
“Hi, there. Can I get two extra-large Americanos, two croissants, and…” I squinted at the board. “Do you sell beans? I’m not positive, but I think I saw a grinder in the kitchen at the house I’m staying at. If the storm is as bad as everyone is saying, I’ll need a lot of coffee.”
The redhead grinned, his freckled nose crinkling as his fingers clicked the register keys. “Very wise. Where are you staying? I only ask because my mom runs a cleaning business, and she takes care of most of the rentals.”
“It belongs to a friend of mine, but he’s never rented it. He probably should, though. It’s on Red Oak…I think.”
“Ooh! The football house! Yep, Mom cleans that one. I’ve been inside…very nice,” he gushed, then did that wrinkled-nose thing again. “That sounded creepy, huh? I swear, I’m normal…ish. I’m Davey, by the way.”
“Silas.”
Davey beamed. “Hang tight, Silas. I’ll grab your drinks.”
He zipped away, his hips swaying seductively as he filled the to-go cups. Davey had a nice ass and—
Whoa.
I blinked, surprised that I’d let my guard down for even a fraction of a moment. No staring at hot guys. Retired or not, that was a fucking rule.
I tapped my credit card and returned it to my wallet while the barista bagged my coffee beans and pastries. “Thanks.”
“Let me get a tray for your drinks.”
“That’s okay. They’ll keep my hands warm.”
“Smart thinking. Be careful out there, and if you need anything, call Cooper. He’s your neighbor on your”—Davey swiveled his slim hips sideways and wiggled the arm closest to me—“right. He’s a great guy.”
“And Coop’s a lot less chatty than Davey here,” the woman behind me in line piped in. “C’mon, slowpoke. Blizzard alert, blizzard alert.”
I chuckled at the middle-aged woman’s good-natured razzing, thanked Davey, and moved to the door.
A bracing gust of cold wind nearly knocked me off my ass the second it opened. I shivered in my Canada Goose jacket and took a fortifying sip of really good coffee.
The weather sucked, but coffee was life, so things were already looking up.
I crossed to the opposite side of Main Street, guzzling my java like a champ.
I finished one cup and dumped it in the bin, then started on the croissants, chomping away as I took in the scenery: two boutiques, a photo lab with dozens of high school football pics on display, and an ice cream parlor with a sign taped to the door that read, “See you next spring, Wood Hollow!”
Bake with Bea Bakery’s window featured a variety of cakes, cupcakes, cookies, and pies on white stands.
Next door was a drugstore called Foxy’s that had Target or Walmart aspirations with racks of nail polishes and moisturizers, jumbo bags of M however, I wasn’t in the mood to intellectualize my purchases.
My socks were wet, my fingers were icicles, and holy shit, snow was still pouring from the sky like a kid upending a bag of flour.
At this rate, I was going to be stuck in the house for a couple of days, and I had to eat.
“Good morning! Getting some goodies before the storm hits?”
I smiled at the petite twentysomething behind the register. “It looks like it’s arrived.”
She pivoted on her heels to peek out the window. Her long curly brown hair swayed like a pendulum as she turned to face me, revealing rosy cheeks, and a button nose. The nametag pinned to her hunter-green apron read, Mandy. “Not yet. This is the warmup act.”
My eyes widened in dismay. “You’re sure it’s not the main event?”
“Nope. The sky isn’t dark enough. It’s coming, though. Where are you from?” she asked conversationally.
“California.”
Mandy set a hand on her heart and gasped. “I’ve never been, but it’s on my bucket list. I have to see the Hollywood sign and the Golden Gate Bridge someday. It’s a must.”
“You should definitely visit,” I replied, slipping my wallet out and rubbing my cold nose on my sleeve while she slowly dragged each item over the sensor.
“I haven’t been anywhere on the West Coast. We always did lakeside vacations growing up, and the big treat was a trip to Niagara Falls. Although, two years ago, I went to Orlando. That was fun.”
I nodded as I checked my cell for a missed call or message from the taxi driver. Nothing.
“Hey, I have a question for you,” I said, interrupting her recap of the amazing hotel she’d stayed at with friends. “Any idea how to order a taxi? Cooper gave me a number, but I haven’t gotten a response.”
“Jed’s sick today.” Mandy twisted her lips in a universal expression for “Bummer, huh?” as she finishing scanning my groceries. “His wife stopped by an hour ago for broth to make chicken noodle soup for him. Poor guy. You can tap your card on the screen there.”
I tapped as instructed, put my wallet away, and finished bagging the groceries. “Who takes over for him?”
“Gosh, no one yet. He just started the business last summer. Jed was busy with tourists who get nervous about driving the winding roads at night. But in January, there’s no one here but locals—and you,” she added with a grin that immediately morphed into a frown. “You don’t have a car?”
“I do. It’s just…” I rubbed my scruffy jaw and puffed my cheeks out. “Never mind. It’s all good.”