Chapter 4 #2
The snow blanketed the ground now, the early part of the storm making the roads more dangerous than they would be later.
He knew that the fresh snow covered ice patches that made this even more treacherous, and he wasn’t exactly accustomed to driving with his hand attached to a woman whose shoulder was wrenched behind her while she straddled him, plus with good old Cally in his lap.
Distracted driving, indeed.
“You’re really pulling on my arm, Kell. Can you ease up?”
“Sorry. Gripping the steering wheel. It’s hard to see around you, and I’m worried we’ll hit black ice.”
“Black ice?”
Good grief. She really was an L.A. girl, wasn’t she?
“Black ice looks like a puddle of water, if you can see it at all. People mistakenly think it’s no big deal, then they spin out. It’s really dangerous–a major reason drivers lose control. And now there’s snow falling on it, so it’s completely hidden.”
“I think I know what you mean. I’ve heard about it in Tahoe.” She swallowed hard, her throat clicking again. “So we have that danger added on top of everything else?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Her sudden silence made a shot of adrenaline spike through him, protective warmth running in his veins as well.
The gravity of their situation made it clear they had to put aside their overwhelming embarrassment and work together.
He eased his grip on the steering wheel as much as possible, shifting position to give her some relief.
“Wow. The last few houses we’ve driven past have all been red or pink,” she said with a laugh he didn’t like. “Must be getting close.”
She was right. The first handful of houses leading into the town center were red and pink, with white trim, and soon nearly every building they saw would be as well.
They reached a fork in the road, requiring him to stop at a stop sign. Calamine chose that moment to move off his lap and find another spot on the front seat, then changed her mind. She jumped down to the floor and settled below the heater.
Rachel couldn’t see the insurance agency, Mike Murphy’s home attached to it, the red shutters and door standing out. Next to him was Cassell Fields’ CPA office. One of the suites in his small building was rented out to a local tutoring company, another to a physical therapist.
Lorna Leo, Cassell’s longtime admin, was climbing out of her car as he drove by, holding a box of files, her bright red hair covered in a Patriots ski cap, long strands poking out. She waved, then let go of the box, her jaw dropping.
Kell couldn’t wave back.
As he gently pressed the gas pedal, continuing slowly into town, the snow eased up abruptly.
“Is the storm over?”
“Nope. Just a lull.”
“Oh.”
She sounded so tired, and her right shoulder must be screaming by now. Whatever their past, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for Rachel.
Even if this was all her fault.
There was a hairpin turn with a guardrail up ahead, and as he navigated it carefully, the entire town came into view, all at once, spectacular and very, very red.
Early February in Love You, Maine, was a study in red and pink against a white background. Sometimes, Kell thought maybe he had a penchant for Nordic noir because the town looked like blood-stained snow.
“This is so much worse than I ever imagined,” Rachel muttered right in his ear.
“Imagined? Didn’t you watch your mom’s reality show?”
“No! Of course not.”
“Way to support a family member.”
“You really think you know everything, don’t you?”
“What does that have to do with you being so haughty you won’t even watch your own mother’s show?”
This time, he was the recipient of a hard stare, and at close range, too.
“For your information, my mother has forbidden us to ever watch any of her shows.”
“Forbidden?”
“Yes.”
“How can she stop you from watching them without her knowledge?”
“She can’t. But I wouldn’t do that to her.”
“Why on earth would an actress want her own family not to watch her shows?”
“She loves when fans do. She hates when we give input.”
“Input?”
Rachel let out a long sigh.
“Actors are a weird breed. Some love watching themselves, others can’t stand it. Mom doesn’t just hate watching herself on camera, she hates the idea that we would see her, too, so yes. Out of respect for her, we don’t watch.”
“You’ve never snuck a look on your own? Her old detective series shows up all over the cable channels in reruns. Can’t miss it.”
“No.”
“Never? Not even in a doctor’s office, or while you’re waiting for an oil change?”
“Really rarely, and then I try to ignore it.”
“That’s objectively weird. You’re right.”
She shrugged. “Told you.”
“Your mom won’t let you watch her shows, and your dad won’t let you drive his Ferrari. Your parents have a lot of rules about how you’re expected to behave. What else aren’t you allowed to do?”
“Allowed? I’m twenty-eight years old. I’m allowed to do whatever I want.”
He snorted. “Sure. Okay. If you say so.”
“Everyone’s staring!” Rachel hissed.
As cars drove past them, the drivers were nearly getting whiplash gawking at the sight of a woman sitting in Kell’s lap, facing him. Driving his work truck made it all worse, because there was no plausible deniability.
Willful ignorance was not going to work as a coping strategy.
“It’s a small town. We’re today’s gossip,” he replied.
“This is not how this project was supposed to start. I’m not wearing a suit, or even in full makeup.”
“Why would that matter?”
“Only someone who wears flannel to work and uses tick spray as cologne would say that.”
He sniffed himself. “Huh. Guess I do smell like geraniums.”
“What do geraniums have to do with anything?”
“Powerful tick repellent.”
“I need a lumberjack repellent.”
“Trust me, Rachel, you’ve got that down to a science. All you have to do is open your mouth.”
Quick taps on horns began, asynchronous, making Kell groan. He knew everyone in town.
Because he was related to half the town.
On the left, Love You Bakery appeared. It was known locally simply as Greta’s, after the woman who opened it in the 1980s. A German immigrant who married a local, Greta had come to Luview, Maine, with a single goal: to feed everyone.
A goal she achieved.
Love You Flowers was next, then Love You Coffee.
“Is everything called Love You Blank?”
“Pretty much.”
“Love You Post Office?”
“No. Government offices are exempt.”
“This is sickening.”
“Some people call it quaint.”
“The tacky ones, you mean.”
Kell came to a stop at the next light, hoping like hell his mom wouldn’t see them. It was a Tuesday after four, so she was likely back in the office at their tree company, running invoices or balancing the books.
Suddenly, blue lights began to pulse around them.
“Uh, Kell? You’re being pulled over.”
“I kinda noticed.”
“What for? You weren’t speeding. And–is that cop really wearing a red uniform?”
“Yes.”
“The pink cop car is bad enough, but come on! I knew the town was weird, but to see it in person...”
“It’s about to get way worse.”
Three taps on the window.
Tap tap tap.
Kell rolled down the window to find his brother, Luke Luview, one of the town police officers, giving him a fake stern look.
He was never, ever hearing the end of this.
“Copulating while driving is a moving violation,” Luke said drolly. A heavy silence followed. Kell finally pierced it with a sigh. “Emphasis on the moving part.”
Luke had short, sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and dimples that came out when he smiled. Just like their mom and older brother, Dennis.
No smile right now, though.
Rachel was frozen in his lap.
“We’re not copulating, officer,” Kell replied. “Just stuck together.”
“Stuck?”
Gently, Kell lifted his hand from the steering wheel, drawing attention to their adhered fingers and the hose. “Yes, sir.”
The word sir came out like profanity.
“How did you–what did you do?” It was clear from his brother’s expression that only half of him wanted to know the real answer.
“I was trying to fix her engine and she didn’t listen and went and touched something she shouldn’t have.”
“I really don’t need to know about your love life, Kell.”
“I didn’t touch his stupid hose! I was trying to make him see reason! It was dripping!” Rachel hissed, her face turned toward the window, trying to explain.
Luke’s mouth twisted with disgust as he held up a palm. “Really. Stop.”
“No! Officer! It’s not like that!” Rachel exclaimed in horror. “We're talking about the radiator hose! On my rental car!”
“Why would a radiator hose drip?”
“Because I was using superglue,” Kell explained.
“Duct tape works better.”
“I know that. Allen used all mine up and didn’t replace it.”
“Who’s Allen?” Rachel asked, looking flustered. The hand attached to his was shaking, and her voice was going higher, anxiety clearly kicking in.
Kell softened a bit. “Guy who works for me. Remember? My assistant.”
“Oh, right.”
“I take it you two just met?” But as the words came out of Luke’s mouth, he slowed down, peering at Rachel. “Hold on. I know you. Where have I seen you before?”
Given that her butt was the part of her Luke had the best view of, Kell found himself not liking this line of inquiry.
Then again, Luke wasn’t looking to meet women right now, so…
“I assure you, Officer, we’ve never met before. I’m just here on business.”
“Business, huh? What line of business are you in? Lap dances?”
Kell couldn’t help but snort.
“No! I’m an associate director at Markstone's!”
“What’s Markstone's? Like the chocolate company?”
“Not like the chocolate company. The chocolate company,” she said, with a snotty sniff at the end. Might as well have added, you rube.
Luke felt it, too.
“Why would someone from the almighty Markstone's be here in little Luview, Maine?”
“I’m facilitating a deal between your local chocolate company and Markstone's Chocolatier.”
Both men whistled. Rachel winced–Kell’s lips were that close to her ear.
“You didn’t tell me that’s why you’re here. Lucinda’s selling out? No way Boyce will ever let her do that.” Kell was shocked.