Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Lynx trailed behind Hazel’s vehicle as the snow increased in velocity. He’d heard of lake effect snow, but this was insane.
Typically, this time of year, he hung close to home. But until recently, he’d had a job to hang around for. Walking away from the auto garage hadn’t been his smartest move, but he couldn’t take one more minute of bullshit in that place.
Anthony Renaldo, aforementioned owner of the truck Lynx currently drove, was also his older brother’s friend.
Ant was cool as shit. Not only was the guy a chainsaw sculptor—the most badass job title ever—but he also built furniture.
He’d crafted Xavier and May a crib for the baby that would come next year.
Lynx could hardly believe he was going to be an uncle.
He was excited. He’d never imagined Xavier with a kid.
That also made him realize that he needed to grow up. There were cool uncles and then there were derelict uncles, and he preferred to be the former.
So, the last time Lynx had visited, he’d mentioned to Ant that he’d like to learn a skill. Something like furniture building. Ant hadn’t hesitated to invite Lynx out to stay to “intern or whatever.”
His brother had rushed to say ‘You don’t have to do that, Ant,’ as if Lynx was a pesky baby brother inconveniencing the adults.
He would have been insulted if he hadn’t been expecting it.
Ant hadn’t flinched, coming back with, “Lynx would be better off learnin’ from me than wasting his time detailing some punk’s convertible. ”
That sealed it. Lynx liked Ant a whole hell of a lot.
He’d also been considering a move to Evergreen Cove, especially after Ant had offered to put Lynx on payroll “once you know what the hell you’re doing.
” So Lynx had spent late nights at Ant’s house—every one of them he could—to learn the grunt work that would earn him a paycheck.
Sanding and staining weren’t that exciting, but soon he’d start building.
And Lynx already had an idea of what his signature style would be like.
Before five minutes ago, and bumping into the cutest-slash-sexiest librarian he’d ever met, Lynx had been thinking of being in town as a career move. Now, it seemed this lake town might offer more opportunities than woodworking.
He smiled at the windshield, then snapped to attention when Hazel’s car fishtailed in front of him. He gripped his steering wheel tight and prepared to swerve to the side to avoid hitting her car. Thankfully, she regained control fast.
“Jesus.” He blew out a breath and held a hand over his racing heart. She’d scared the crap out of him. “That’s why I wanted to follow you.”
His irritable tone sounded so much like overly protective Xavier, he resented it a little. But also, she shouldn’t be out in this weather alone. So, if him seeing her off to her destination made him overly protective, so be it.
When Hazel had blown into Cup of Jo’s, he had been picking up a bag of coffee he’d dropped on the floor.
Standing to his full height, he replayed the moment he saw her in slow motion—with music in the background like a movie.
His eyes had scanned over her from head to toe.
Her vibrant red hair poked out of a mulberry-colored knit cap, the curls twisting this way and that.
Delicate freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, red from the cold wind outside.
And when her wide, curious blue eyes landed on him, every thought in his head had evaporated.
He’d never felt like he’d been whapped upside the head by a woman just by looking at her. But he also hadn’t been the only one staring.
She’d stared right back.
She’d also mentioned being with “Stanley” for a year, but Lynx doubted that this Stanley guy was a love interest. Stanley was an old guy’s name, and Hazel appeared to be Lynx’s age. Or close, anyway.
“Twenty-two today,” he mumbled.
He’d been wondering if anything special would happen on his birthday, besides Mom and Dad calling to sing to him at the ass-crack of dawn. He’d decided to treat himself to a coffee, never suspecting that a midmorning java would offer an exciting new possibility...
The brake lights on Hazel’s compact car glowed as she approached the library.
It wasn’t far from the coffee shop at all.
The parking lot was fucked, though. It was buried in a few inches of snow and he knew there was ice on top of ice in a few areas that hadn’t seen the sun today.
The moment she turned into the lot, he tapped the horn to get her attention.
No way could she get her car out if she pulled all the way—
But it was too late. The wheels of her small blue compact were already spinning in the snow.
He put on his hazard lights, hopped out of the truck and shuffled through the gathering white to reach her.
Snowflakes stuck to his eyelashes and blurred his vision.
He tapped on the window, and she rolled it down.
“Shift into reverse. I’ll push you into the middle of the street and you can park there. ”
He expected a reaction he didn’t get. She didn’t thank him profusely or nod innocently. Her full, pink lips pulled into a frown.
“I am not parking in the middle of the street. That’s illegal.”
“Well you can’t park on the curb since it’s buried under the snow,” he said over the howling wind. Elliott hadn’t been wrong. This had blown in fast. “You’re already stuck and it’s coming down like mad. Maybe if you weren’t driving a cracker box on wheels…”
“Hey, at least it’s mine. Not borrowed.”
“I have a car. Just not here. Xavier drove me because he happened to stop by last weekend. It made sense because he was—” He clamped his mouth shut. “Can we argue about this after?”
One eyebrow raised to the brim of her cap.
“Reverse. Please.”
“I’m parking there.” She pointed to an overhang next to a side door. “I’m going to run in and out. I’ll be, like, five minutes.”
“You park there, your car will live at the library until we’re clear of the storm. Trust me.”
“Give me a push in that direction.” She pointed to the overhang again. “That’s what we’re doing.”
“Okay,” he said to the window she’d just rolled up. He smiled and gave her a thumbs up, and then talked to her even though she couldn’t hear him. “I’ll drive you home since you won’t admit I’m right.”
Her gloved hands were ten and two on the steering wheel. She tossed her head, directing him to the back of her car. He obeyed, leaning on the trunk and giving it a good push.
Once she was stationed in the less-snowy alcove, she stepped out of her vehicle and chirped a quick “Thank you” before echoing Elliott’s earlier sentiment to “Be careful going home.”
“Not leaving until you do, darlin’.”
“Darlin’?” Her brows crashed over her nose at the term of endearment.
“Hazel. Sorry.” He held up both hands in defense. “Like I said, your car’s not going anywhere now, and I am not leaving you stranded.”
She considered her car, quickly getting buried, and then Ant’s truck, idling at the edge of the lot. “You might want to pull off the road in case the plows come through. I’d hate to have to drive you home.”
He huffed instead of admitting that he hadn’t considered the plows. Not totally his fault. His only thoughts had revolved around seeing Hazel safely here, and eventually home. He usually wasn’t stricken with such a hero complex, but he wouldn’t leave her alone in this mess. No way.
He jogged to the truck and then parked it near-ish her car. He tried the library door, half surprised she hadn’t locked him out.
Once inside, he was hit with the familiar scent of aged paper and an indistinct smell that belonged to educational buildings—as if spent brain cells had a singular fragrance.
He heard Hazel’s voice. She was…cooing? He rounded a counter and found her behind the back of a shelf. She was leaning over, peering through glass, and sweet-talking… “A turtle?”
She straightened and blinked at him. She’d taken off her hat and a red curl had fallen over one of her blue eyes. She replaced the lid on the terrarium as the ancient beast slowly descended on a fat purple grape. “He’s a tortoise. This is Stanley.”
“I thought Stanley was your grandpa or a maintenance guy.”
“No, that’s Tom,” she said matter-of-factly. “He’s both.”
She was nothing like the girls he normally looked twice at, that was for sure.
His last girlfriend had lived in Lululemon leggings, spent nearly two hours doing her makeup each day—thirty of those minutes were spent perfecting her eyebrows.
She’d also owned about two-thousand Starbucks collector’s cups.
She didn’t so much like Lynx as she did tolerate him.
When she’d dumped him two months back, he hadn’t been the least bit surprised.
Hazel didn’t strike him as fussy like Joyce had been.
The librarian’s makeup was minimal, her clothes basic, but classic.
Today she wore a floral top with a sweater over it, boots lined with faux fur, and jeans.
Her eyebrows were natural and matched her hair.
She didn’t seem like the type of girl who needed to pretend to be anything she wasn’t.
And if he were being honest, her authenticity was the slightest bit intimidating for a guy like him.
His phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket. Shit. He should have expected this. He turned his back on Hazel and answered with a hushed, “Hey, man.”
“‘Hey, man’?” Ant repeated. “Where the hell are you?”
“I ran out to pick up coffee. You were out. Don’t worry, I bought a bag.”
“Coffee.” Ant’s tone was flat. Displeased.
“You said I could borrow the truck anytime.”
“I said you could ask to borrow the truck. And I sure as fuck didn’t mean in the middle of a blizzard.”
“I’m about to head back. With coffee, by the way.” Not to kiss ass, but mentioning it again couldn’t hurt.
“No, you’re not. Roads are a mess, and if you get in a wreck, Xavier will hand me my ass—and that’s after I hand you yours if you wreck my truck. Where are you? Cup of Jo’s? Abundance Market?”
Lynx looked over his shoulder at Hazel. She was slicing an apple on a small cutting board and pretending not to listen. “I made a pit stop at the library. I’m waiting for Hazel to feed Stanley and then I’m going to drive her home.”
There was silence while Ant processed that info, then, “Not a good idea for you to drive, let alone drive with precious cargo like Hazel Anderson. Her grandmother was a town treasure. Put her on the phone.”
“Why?”
“Put her on the phone, Lynx.”
Lynx growled under his breath, but did as he was asked. He offered the phone to Hazel. “He wants to talk to you.”
She stopped mid-slice to ask, “Who?”
“Ant.”
She put the knife down and accepted the phone. “Hello?”
Lynx leaned a hip on the counter where Stanley resided and listened to one side of the conversation. Hazel met his gaze unerringly, her bright blue eyes knowing. Dammit. So much for making a good impression. God knew what Ant was telling her.
“Yes. I came to check on Stanley. I can drive home. Yes, I can! I parked under the alcove. Well, yes, there is a bit of snow gathering, but—”
Lynx smiled. Maybe Ant could convince her that her tuna can on wheels would not make it through this mess. She glared at him and then turned her attention back on the conversation. “But— But, I—” A sigh and then, “Fine. Yes. Morning seems extreme—” Another sigh. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
Lynx couldn’t help smiling. Sounds like “Dad” had chosen a side and it wasn’t hers. Looks like he’d be driving her home after all. She handed Lynx the phone.
“Yello.”
“You’re staying at the library until this thing passes. Which probably means you’ll be stuck until morning.”
“Morning? There’s no way.”
“If there is a chance for us to get out there sooner, we will. Do you need me to walk you through how to turn on the generator in case the power goes out?”
“I’m not staying overnight. There’s no reason I can’t—”
“The generator, Lynx. Can you turn it on?”
Lynx pressed his lips together. It was Hazel’s turn to smirk at him.
“I can figure it out.”
“Good. Stay put. Don’t do anything stupid. Do I need to define what that means regarding Hazel?”
“Come on, man.”
“It’s a fair question.”
Lynx wouldn’t lie—he was attracted to the slight and perturbing redhead, but he wasn’t planning on seducing her. Hell, she didn’t even like him and they met like, ten minutes ago. “I came here to make sure she was safe. I am not breaking that promise.”
“Good.”
“Even though I’m fairly certain she can handle herself.”
She lifted her chin proudly as if to say You bet your ass I can.
Huh. He wondered if Hazel Anderson swore.
“Plug in your phone so that it’s fully charged,” Ant told him. “I’ll call and tell your brother you’re safe. See if we can put together a rescue team for you and the librarian.”
“Hey. Ant, wait. Don’t call Xavier. I’d rather— Hello?” But the call had ended.