Chapter 6
Hattie
Holiday music played over the speakers as I drove toward my apartment.
I wondered what Rowan would think of where I lived.
I'd gotten a place in one of the older complexes near Telluride.
It was all I could afford after getting a loan to purchase the truck.
Plus, the landlord let me keep my truck in the lot.
I parked my truck hoping I'd be able to dig it out tomorrow after the snow ended without too much trouble. Before I could gather my purse, Rowan opened the door, and my heart stuttered.
He held out his hand, and even though I didn't need his help, I put my gloved hand in his.
I felt the warmth through the knit material. I slid to the ground and immediately let go of his hand. I shouldn't be enjoying the way my hand felt in his. We weren't in a real relationship. I had to remember that. "This is for show, right? So people think we're actually dating?"
He sighed. "Right."
I wasn't sure why he was taking this so far. He didn't need to ensure I got home okay. I wasn't used to anyone worrying about my safety, and it was making my heart flutter.
I moved toward the staircase that led to my apartment.
" There is nothing to stop people from coming up to your door," Rowan said, concern evident in his tone.
"When I toured places, I was looking for somewhere to park my truck. This was the only place that allowed me to do that."
"Ah," he said as if that explained everything.
I wondered if he'd leave once he'd seen me to my door. I certainly didn't want to let him in. My apartment wasn't anything to get excited about. It had the bare necessities, and most things worked. That was all that mattered. Once my business took off, I'd look for a nicer place.
But the yellow sheet of paper taped to my door had me drawing to a stop.
Rowan ran into the back of me, then placed a hand on my hip to steady me.
I was busy trying to breathe when he said, "Your apartment has been condemned for mold."
"What?" I asked incredulously.
He moved past me to read the rest of it. "Apparently, one of your neighbors found mold in her apartment, and the landlord inspected all of them. It says you can't live here. But you can take your things, and they'll be in touch about fixing it."
My heart was racing. Where was I going to live?
"Can you live with your mom for a few days until you figure something out?" Rowan asked.
My mom stayed in her house with the blinds drawn. She preferred to be alone. "I don't think she'd want that."
He frowned. "You have a friend you could move in with?"
"Clara's living with Beck now." There was no way they'd want a friend moving in with them. They were still in that new honeymoon stage of their relationship where they were always touching and kissing. Meg was particular about her space after being in foster care as a child, and I didn’t want to ask Jovie since she lived with her grandfather.
Rowan sighed. "You can stay with me if you want."
"Oh, that's not necessary. I'll figure something out. Maybe I can get a room at a hotel until I hear back from my landlord." I didn't have insurance on my apartment. Just for the truck. I figured that was more important to protect than my meager personal possessions.
"Hattie, you're staying with me tonight. Let's pack up a few things and get home before the snow gets worse."
I frowned. "I couldn't stay with you."
"It doesn't sound like you have a choice. Besides, we're engaged. They'll expect you to move in with me."
I couldn't argue with that, and his place was more attractive than a random motel. "Fine."
He waited for me to unlock the door, and I walked inside.
"I'll just be a minute." I hurried toward my bedroom, not wanting Rowan in the apartment any longer than he needed to be. It was a one bedroom with a kitchen and a small living room. I'd been proud to be living on my own, but it wasn't nice.
I grabbed a duffle bag and stuffed clothes and toiletries into it. When it was full, I moved to the living room where he was looking at my family pictures.
He looked over at me. "These were taken before—"
I cleared my throat, not wanting to talk about what my family was like before Dad became addicted to alcohol. I always thought he'd come out of it, holding out hope that he'd go to rehab and get better. But he never had. "Are you ready to go? The snow's coming down harder."
He nodded, thankfully not asking any more questions about my family or why all my pictures were from before. I'd thought of my life as before and after Dad's addiction, and Rowan was firmly in the before camp.
He took the duffle from me without asking and slung it over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. "Is this everything?"
"Yup." I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't ask why I didn't have anything else that was worth anything or why I chose to live in this rundown apartment.
He waited for me to lock up, and then we headed down the stairs to his truck. "Will your truck be okay here? Or do you want to bring it to my place?"
I chewed my lip. "I don't have another vehicle."
He raised a brow. "Probably want to drive it to my place then."
Thankfully, he didn't ask why I didn't own a personal vehicle. I'd sold it to get the truck. I told myself everyone made sacrifices when they started a business.
He put my duffle bag in his truck, as if he was afraid I'd change my mind. "Follow me. I take a different entrance to get to my cabin."
"Okay." Clara had mentioned once that she was the only Hart who didn't live on the property.
We drove more slowly due to the lower visibility.
The snow was really coming down hard now.
It would be dicey for the next few hours.
I followed him slowly up the lane and past the brewery.
I hadn't realized there was a home back here.
Maybe it was new, or it was one of the older buildings they'd renovated over the years.
He pulled up to a small cabin with a wraparound porch and a swing. It was cozy and inviting. I imagined what kind of family would live there, a happy one where the dad came home every night after work and didn't disappear for a night or more.
The familiar ache settled deep in my chest. I grabbed my purse but couldn't beat Rowan to the door.
He opened it for me again and helped me down.
I should've protested and told him I didn't need help, but the notice on my door had thrown me off.
I felt like my carefully constructed life had just imploded.
I prided myself on being independent and not relying on anyone.
But now I was moving in with my fake fiancé.
It was ridiculous how my life had changed since Rowan declared that I was his.
I wanted to resist his interference in my life, but he was impossible to put off.
Apparently, when you were Rowan's, you got his undivided attention.
I should have been irritated, but some part of me liked it.
I couldn't stop thinking about what I would have done had I been alone when I saw that notice. Where would I have gone? I couldn't afford a hotel for longer than a night or two.
He opened the door and ushered me inside. "I'll get a fire started."
I paused in the doorway, taking everything in. The walls were wood, and there were exposed beams on the ceiling. A fluffy throw hung over the back of the large sectional, and a TV hung over the fireplace. "This is nice."
Rowan busied himself in the fireplace, dropping logs and starting a fire. "Yeah, we renovated it when I started talking about opening the brewery. I can walk to the brewery, and it's separate from the rest of the family. I like my little piece of solitude."
I moved farther into the room.
"I'll get us some dinner as soon as the fire's going. Do you want to change or take a shower?"
"I'll change into something more comfortable."
"The guest room is the first door on the right at the top of the stairs. There's an attached bathroom and towels in the closet."
"Thanks for this, Rowan. I really appreciate it. I promise I'll figure something out and get out of your hair soon."
He shook his head. "Stay as long as you like."
He hadn't paused or turned to face me, so I grabbed my duffle and took it upstairs.
The guest room was adorable, featuring a wrought iron bed with a maroon-and-navy quilt in a ring pattern.
There were curtains on the windows and a dresser and a desk.
It was the perfect guest room. His mom or sister must have been involved in the decor, because it didn't look like something a single man would decorate.
I closed the door and changed into sweats and a hoodie. It was what I'd wear when I got home after a long day in the truck. I didn't want to unpack my things because I wouldn't be here for long.
I told Jovie about the fake engagement on the night of the Illuminary when we were closing up the truck. And I wanted to tell someone that I’d moved in with him.
Hattie: My apartment has mold. I can’t stay there. Rowan said I could move in with him while the repairs are completed.
Jovie: Are you okay staying there?
Hattie: It’s actually really nice, and he’s making me dinner.
Jovie: I’m a little jealous. But don’t get too comfortable.
Hattie: I keep telling myself that.
Jovie: I hope you know what you’re doing.
I didn’t bother responding because it was fairly obvious I had no idea what I was doing.
Downstairs, Rowan was moving around the kitchen. "I thought I'd make spaghetti. It's quick and easy."
My stomach growled at the thought of marinara and noodles. "You don't have to cook for me."
"I have to eat, and it's hard to cook for one person." Then he pointed at the island stool. "Have a seat. Unless you want to watch TV."
I should've retreated to the living room and turn on the TV so I wouldn't' have to interact with him. But that would be rude after he'd offered me a place to stay and a meal. So I sat on the stool, and he poured me a glass of water.
"If you want something else, let me know. I can make hot chocolate, but I'm sure it's not as good as yours."
That made me pause. "You like my hot chocolate?"
"It's really good. It's more chocolatey than others, if you know what I mean."
He came to my truck occasionally but not enough for me to think that he loved it. "It's too bad I can't open something like the brewery but for hot chocolate."
He filled a pot with water and put it on the burner. "Why couldn't you?"
I laughed at the idea. "It's not as popular as beer."
His brow furrowed. "Around here? We have a whole town centered on Christmas."
I sighed. "It's not always cold and snowy. Most people prefer coffee or tea during the day and a beer at night. Hot chocolate is nice, but it's not as in demand. You know what I mean?"
"I heard you talking to Beck at the tasting, and it sounds like you have plans for a storefront. You were talking about expanding your flavors and offerings, making it a whole experience."
I sighed wistfully. "That's just a dream. Something you think about but you don't ever do because it would be crazy."
"Why is it crazy?" he asked carefully, grabbing the noodles and a bottle of marinara sauce from the pantry.
"I can't sell enough hot chocolate to ever justify a lease for a storefront, even in Christmas Town. The leases have gone up because the town is so much more popular now. Eve and Natasha did an amazing job drawing more visitors, but that means I can't afford to open a storefront there."
"Sometimes, you don't know all the possible outcomes. You just have to take a leap of faith. Believe that it will work."
"It's different for you. Your building was already on your family's property. You didn't need to buy land or lease anything. You have existing businesses that are already successful. You have the support of your family and a business consultant and investor in Beck. It's the ideal situation."
"You're right," Rowan said simply, and I was surprised that he didn't argue with me. "I have every privilege in business that someone could have, except maybe a trust fund. I've been lucky. But it hasn't been easy. Malcolm threw up roadblocks, and we had to knock them down one by one."
He couldn't possibly understand what I've been through, and I couldn't tell him unless I wanted to admit how dire my financial decision was. "I took a risk when I signed the loan for the truck—"
He glanced over at me. "You didn't buy it outright?"
I gave him a look. "I couldn't afford to. I traded in my car and took out a loan."
"It's hard to be an entrepreneur. Especially if you don't have a support system."
I should have felt relieved that he got it, but a part of me resented his good fortune.
He couldn't help that he was born into royalty.
The Hart family owned a large amount of land with hiking paths.
All his grandparents had to do was turn their mansion into an inn, and voila, they were set.
It was a no-brainer to continue adding more businesses.
Life didn't work that way for me. I didn't have investors clamoring to work with me or family who already owned the building that could be converted to a storefront. Being close to Rowan only highlighted our differences. The sooner I could end this fake engagement, the better.
Then there was the matter of that kiss. It was surprising. I didn't know what it meant, but I fully intended to bury it down deep and never think about it again.