Forget Me (Oh Yes She Did #2)

Chapter One

“Man, I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on,” Brock said. “How long have we been friends?”

Lance Denison sighed. “I don’t know. Probably since we were zygotes?”

His friend laughed. “Exactly. And since we’ve been friends for so long, I can tell exactly when you need a break.”

“A break from what?”

“From the suck of your life! Look, Lodge 10 is going to be completely empty. The UnValentine’s Day celebration is exactly what you need right now.”

“Dude, it costs hundreds of dollars a night to stay in one of these cabins. I live ten miles away. It’s a waste of money.”

“Oh my God, you haven’t listened to anything I’ve said, have you? There was a last-minute cancellation. That Lodge is already paid for. It’s just going to sit empty if you don’t take it.”

“Bull. You can list it on the website and one of the people on the waitlist will snatch it up in two minutes.”

“That’s not the point.” Brock leaned against the side of his bronco and scanned the parking area where all of the new reservations were arriving. Four o’clock was check-in time, which was exactly why Lance tried to be far away from here by three every day.

“How much work have you done on these cabins?” Brock asked.

Lance canted his head. “I don’t mind.”

“Well, you won’t let me pay you, so at least let me show you what it’s like around February 14th.”

Lance scrunched up his face. “I hate Valentine’s Day.”

“Yes! That’s the whole point of UnValentine’s Day!

There won’t be a single rose or chocolate heart in sight.

Look over there,” Brock said, pointing to a stack of kegs a delivery driver was hauling into the main lodge.

“Beer. No champagne, no chocolate covered strawberries, no mushy shit whatsoever. I promise. And Gran is pulling all the stops this week with the menu. Gravy on everything.”

Lance snorted. Well…it would be kind of nice to get away from everything that was happening.

Maybe he could meet some fellow anti-commercial holiday goers like himself.

Or hell, he could probably just sleep for three days and get rid of some of the heaviness from the last year.

He was due to call off some days from work.

And honestly, he loved Gran’s cooking. She sent him home with leftovers when they had them, but the lodge rarely had any.

Gran’s cooking was known for four counties.

“You’re sure you don’t just want to rebook the room?” Lance asked skeptically.

“I’m sure. Go home, pack a bag, bring your soccer stuff, we will eat and laugh and ignore the stupid holiday this week. It’ll get your mind off everything.”

Lance puffed air out of his cheeks. The dang salesman-Brock was winning this one. “If I see one candy heart, I’m out of here.”

Brock grinned and clapped him on the shoulder so hard, Lance nearly had to take a side-step. “I don’t know why you’re so excited about Non-Valentine’s Day or whatever. You have a wife who is attached at the hip. You two are the mushiest couple I’ve ever seen. It’s disgusting to be around.”

Yep, Brock had taken a nose-dive off the bachelor wagon last year and fallen headfirst into love with an armadillo shifter named Ava. Them being excited about this weird un-celebration was strange.

“It’s called UnValentine’s Day. Get it right.

” Brock was walking backward as he talked.

“Put your tool bag away this week and just breathe. Trust me. It’ll be good for you.

Dinner is at six in the main lodge. I’ll have your key under the welcome mat when you get back.

No need to check in. I’m telling Gran you’re staying! ”

Shit. There was no getting out of this now. Gran would serial-call him until he gave in.

He’d grown up with Brock, and Gran had practically raised him on weekends.

She was the biggest reason he volunteered his handy-man skills at The Woodpecker Inn on his days off and on lunch breaks.

Part of it was for an excuse to be around people he genuinely cared about, and part of it was to avoid his empty apartment.

Lance looked around at the singles bustling into the main lodge behind Brock to check in to their cabins.

There was a woman dressed in all black, with heavy eye make-up and black lipstick who gave him a sour look as she passed. He offered a pursed-lip smile and nodded politely. She growled at him.

Okay.

Well, from what he understood, the meals in the lodge were served at the big dining tables to mingle, but maybe he could just show up at the tail end of dinner and avoid everyone.

He turned around to head to his truck and ran into a child, who went flying backward with a squelch. A bright purple suitcase fell right on top of her.

“Oh, geez, kid, I’m sorry,” he muttered, moving to help her.

“I’m not a kid,” the girl said, struggling to get up.

He didn’t know how to help, so he grabbed her jacket sleeves and pulled her skyward until she was settled on her little kid-sized snow boots.

“Unhand me,” she scoffed, pushing him back. Surprisingly, the little critter was strong, and he stumbled back a few steps.

“Whoa,” he exclaimed as he flailed his arms to catch his balance on the ice. “Feisty little thing.”

“You got mud on my new jacket,” she groaned, looking at her sleeve.

Sure enough, a huge mud smear adorned the purple puffer material.

“You match your suitcase.”

She lifted her little chin higher into the air. He couldn’t tell what look she was giving him from behind the oversized sunglasses that adorned her little pixie face, but he would guess she was glaring.

It rankled him. “I’m just going to point out that I was standing here for no less than five minutes, and all I did was turn around and you went flying. Why on earth were you trying to barrel through me?”

“I wasn’t trying to barrel through you.” A lock of her brunette, shoulder-length hair flew into her mouth and stuck to her pink lipstick. She spat it out, but it didn’t work so she had to push it away with her purple mitten clad hand. “I was trying to ask you a question.”

“From three millimeters away from me?”

“Well, I was about to knock!”

“Knock on me? Why?”

She parted her lips to say something but then seemed to change her mind. “You know what? Never mind. I will figure it out myself.”

“Check in is that way,” he ground out, pointing to the main lodge.

“I already checked in,” she muttered as she removed her glasses from her face. She glared at the snow on them and then struggled to unzip her knee length purple puffer jacket. Watching her struggle with the zipper was the most entertaining thing he’d seen in months.

How did this woman survive out in the real world.

She made this cute little squeak as the zipper got stuck halfway, and then handed him her snow-dusted sunglasses, and then her purse, and then a lavender colored bag that was on her shoulder.

“Why am I holding your shit?” he asked.

“Why are you cussing?”

Lance pursed his lips and counted to three in his head for patience. “Why am I holding your stuff,” he asked, watching her struggle with the stuck zipper.

“I need to clean off my sunglasses.”

“Hey lady—”

“At least you aren’t calling me a child anymore,” she grumbled, pulling on the zipper.

“Well, you’re the size of a grasshopper, and dressed like a second grader, so pardon my assumption.”

“You are really rude,” she said, flashing her eyes up at him.

Whatever snarky comeback he was planning got lodged in Lance’s throat as he saw her face. Her eyes were glowing an unnatural gold color that not even her thick bangs could hide.

“Oh my hell, you’re one of them,” he whispered.

She let off another little squeak, and snatched the sunglasses from his grasp, then shoved the snow-covered shield over her eyes, and pulled at her bangs like they would hide her face better. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a shifter.”

“I’m not!” She abandoned the zipper and picked the handle of her enormous purple suitcase off the ground and then stormed away.

“The check-in desk is that way,” he offered, pointing behind him.

“I did early check-in!”

“I’m holding a purse that does not belong to me,” he called after her.

“Shoot,” he heard her mutter as she pulled a wide circle with her suitcase. It looked heavy, and the wheels weren’t turning very well in the snow.

She stomped back toward him and relieved him of the purse and shoulder bag.

“There’s a lot of snow on your glasses. Can you even see?” he asked.

“Can you even tell how rude you’re being?” she spat back at him.

“I’m literally trying to help.”

“By announcing what I am thirty seconds into my stay here,” she whisper-screamed. “I want one weekend off. One weekend.” The last two words sounded different. More somber and desperate.

“Uuuh.” Crap, was she about to cry? He didn’t know what to do with women’s tears. Never had and never would.

“Do you want some peanut butter crackers?” he asked, pulling out a half-eaten package of his midday snack.

The miniature person just stood there, frozen. “You…you want me to eat your pocket snack?”

“I don’t know. Whatever will keep you from crying. Crying makes me freak out.”

The woman pursed her lips against a smile and ducked her gaze to the snow, but he’d seen it.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m a little stressed.”

“Ummm…” Lance looked around and the girl dressed in black was glaring at him over the hood of her car as she unlocked it. “Stressed about what?”

“I’ve never been to Colorado, and I don’t know this place, and I’m here to meet someone, and I’m nervous, and I’m pretty sure she won’t like me and will send me away.”

“Oooh, you’re here to meet your girlfriend?” he guessed.

“What? No. I’m here to meet…” She looked around, and her frowning eyebrows disappeared behind her humongous sunglasses. “I’m here to meet someone like me.”

“Does she know?” he asked, suspiciously.

“Not exactly.”

“So, you’re stalking her?”

The pixie of a woman shrugged her slim shoulders. “No?”

“I don’t think truthful answers come with a question mark at the end. I’m guessing you’re here to see Ava?”