Chapter 8
Hattie
Last night, I took a bath in Rowan's space. I was fairly sure he never used the tub himself because I found unopened lavender bath bombs under the sink. Despite the scent, the space still smelled like him, hops and pine.
I woke to the sound of a plow. When I peeked out the window, I saw Rowan's truck with a plow attached to the front of it, pushing the snow off the lane. I couldn't even describe what it felt like for someone to get up early and do something like this for me.
I prided myself on being independent, but it was nice to have someone take care of me. I'd bristled last night at his intense need to protect, but I liked it. I felt safe here in his home. I didn't have to worry about noises or whether someone would jiggle my lock.
Not only did I feel safe, I felt protected.
And when I combined those feelings with that kiss we shared, I was barreling toward uncharted territory.
I'd dated but only surface level. I never let anyone in.
I didn't want to talk about my father or those dark years before he took his own life.
Or the well-meaning people who said that Dad committed suicide because he thought we'd be better off without him.
It was better not to talk to anyone about him. No one understood what that was like. No amount of hope changed anything. Suicide was hard for the ones left behind.
I climbed out of bed and quickly dressed for the day. Downstairs, there was a note by the coffee maker to help myself and another one by the stove that said my eggs were in the microwave. I uncovered the plate and grabbed a fork.
I couldn’t believe he'd made me breakfast and took the time to write me notes. He was sweet, and it was surprising that he was still single. He'd make the perfect boyfriend for the right woman.
Every scrape of the plow on the lane reminded me of what he was doing for me. He was taking time out of his day to do something nice. I was just rinsing off my plate when the door to the garage opened.
He pulled off his boots and jacket. Then he joined me in the kitchen. His cheeks were pink from the cold, and he smelled like the outdoors. If he were mine, I'd thank him for what he'd done for me today. My cheeks flushed at the thought of getting on my knees for him.
Since he wasn't mine, I gripped the countertop so I wouldn't cross the room and jump into his arms. "Thank you for clearing the lane."
He shrugged. "I'd have to do it anyway."
He'd said last night he could walk to work, so that wasn't exactly true. He could have waited. He woke up early for me. "Well, still. I appreciate it."
"You're welcome, Hattie."
I loved when he said my name. In my parents' house, I had felt invisible.
Mom had always been worried about Dad: where he was, what he was doing, and if he was drinking.
It was exhausting. But it also meant that I was largely ignored.
I was expected to do things on my own and figure things out. I always felt seen around Rowan.
I stayed after Dad died to help Mom, but eventually I needed my own space. I couldn't afford a house. This place was so cozy. It only highlighted how different our lives were.
If we were dating for real, he'd want to spend time with my mom. It was a good thing that we weren't going down that road. I didn't share that part of my life with anyone.
"I'd better get going if I want to catch the early hot-chocolate crowd."
He nodded. "If you need anything, please call me. I don't mind helping."
"You've already done so much."
He leaned against the counter, his body language relaxed and easygoing. Exactly what I'd expect from Rowan. "Don't forget. I owe you a favor, since you're helping me out with the whole fake-engagement thing."
I moved past him, setting a hand on his arm, which was a mistake. He flexed under my palm, and I almost whimpered. He clearly worked out in a gym or chopped wood or both. "Consider us even then."
He didn't respond, and I removed my hand from his arm, still feeling the heat of his body through my skin.
I'd have to remember to keep my distance from him and absolutely no touching ever.
There was something about this Rowan, the one that was all grown up and filled out, that was getting to me.
I was sure it was just the difference between the boy I used to know and the man he was now.
It had nothing to do with me wanting him.
He'd never be interested in me. Not when he could have any woman in town. According to Jane, women would be willing to enter some sort of contest to win a brew bath with him. That wasn't normal.
I needed to talk to someone about this arrangement, because if I spent much more time with Rowan, I was going to do something crazy like kiss him again.
"Have a good day," Rowan called after me, and his comment warmed my heart.
It was nice to have someone that cared about you, who worried if you'd get stuck in snow or if you had a safe place to live. I wasn't used to any of that. My mom had been consumed with caring for my dad for as long as I could remember, until he passed.
This was new, and I couldn't get used to it because soon I'd be on my own again. I had to remember that this was temporary. This relationship with Rowan Hart wasn't real.
I couldn't develop feelings for him or linger when I touched him. This arrangement was purely a business deal. I'd help him until the brewery was open, and then we'd go our separate ways.
I drove the truck to my spot in Christmas Town and was pleased that I had a steady line of customers for the morning.
Snow always brought out the hot-chocolate drinkers.
There was something about the combination that people loved.
I closed the truck at lunch so I could eat.
I stopped by the new market in town and grabbed a sandwich before heading to Meg's to grab a coffee.
There were a few customers inside that one of Meg's employees was helping. When Meg saw me, she smiled and started making my drink. Then she sat with me on a table by the window.
I handed her a wrapped sandwich. It had become a habit for me to grab both of us lunch and then stop by her shop to eat together.
I wasn't sure exactly when it started, but we seemed to connect on a level that I didn't with anyone else.
I suspected that both of us had abandonment issues.
For me, Dad's addiction overtook everything else, and for Meg, she was placed in foster care at some point.
She didn't talk about it, but she was opinionated on most other things.
"Thank you." Meg unwrapped her sandwich. "What's this I hear about you being engaged to a Hart?"
I sighed. "I knew you'd want to talk about that."
She raised a brow. "Can you blame me? Since when are you even dating?"
We talked about most things, and she knew that I'd had a long dry spell. "I'm not."
She pointed at me. "Then you have some explaining to do."
The thing I liked about Meg was that she was blunt and told you how it was. "You have to keep this quiet because it's a secret."
Meg set her sandwich down. "I'm not sure how I feel about keeping a secret."
I held up my hand. "I worked the Hart Holiday Illuminary the other night."
"I remember. I was there too. That's when the news broke about your engagement."
"Rowan was being interviewed by a Telluride Times reporter, Jane, and she wanted to host a contest for single women to win a brew bath with Rowan."
"You're kidding," Meg said dryly.
"I think he panicked. Later, he said he didn't want the attention on his love life and not the brewery. He worked so hard, and he wanted the focus to be on that."
"That's understandable. But how did you get involved in this?" Meg was protective of her friends, and I was fairly sure I was included in that sphere now.
I shrugged. "I was standing nearby, and we used to be friends when we were kids."
"All you need to get engaged now is to be standing close to the person and to have been friends at one time?" Meg asked incredulously. "I'm going to have to be careful about who I'm standing next to."
"That's what he told me. Afterward, he asked if I'd play along, pretend to be his fiancée for the holiday season or just until the brewery opens."
Her eyes wide, she said, "That's a big ask."
"I felt badly about how our friendship ended.”
"Is he one of the people you pulled away from when you learned about your father's addiction?" Meg asked.
"I didn't want anyone involved in that. I was too ashamed. Besides, the Harts are so perfect."
Meg nodded. "I know exactly what you mean. I don't trust displays of happiness like that. I should be past those kinds of feelings by now, but I'm not."
"The contrast between our families was too much.
Rowan always saw everything that was going on.
He would have known something was wrong, and he would have wanted to fix it.
But there was no changing that situation.
" You can't control another person's actions.
You can be there for them, but I learned that wasn't enough either.
It was the most frustrating situation I'd ever been in, and I hated how much it hurt my mother.
"So you're going along with this then? What's in it for you?" Meg asked.
Meg was always looking out for everyone in her small circle. It's what I loved about her. "I told him he didn't owe me anything. But last night he showed up and insisted on making sure I got home okay in the snow."
Meg paused. "Really?"
"He was worried the truck would get stuck. When we got to my apartment, there was a notice on the door that it was uninhabitable because of mold. They found mold in one of the apartments, then inspected the rest of them. I can't stay there until it's removed."
She winced, knowing how much I needed that place to live. "You could have slept on my couch."
I gave her a look. "You have a studio with a tiny couch."
She shrugged. "It would have worked in a pinch."