Chapter 2
two
WESTON
JANUARY 31
The Super Bowl is next weekend, and I needed a place to escape.
I want to be supportive of my teammates. I do.
But gnarled hands of anger and grief grip my insides and I’m not a huge fan of who I am right now. They don’t need this version of me around them.
I know that every time I step on the field, I’m rolling the dice. There’s always a chance that I could have that career ending injury that I don’t recover from. The doctor has reassured me on more than one occasion that I should make a full recovery from my ACL tear, but there’s one question that plays on a loop in my head: what if I don’t ?
There’s never been a second choice for me.
No backup option.
From the minute I showed some talent at football, my parents poured into my training. Not because they wanted a cash cow for a kid, but because I loved it. And I was good. Hashtag blessed.
I chuckle because I thought that’s exactly what I was. I got what I always wanted and now my future feels like a giant question mark.
Back in the fall, this place looked like a walking advertisement for Hallmark movies. Pumpkins everywhere. Now Cupid looks like he flew around, draping hearts on every available surface he could find.
Eager for coffee after my brief session at the gym, I head for Once Upon a Brew. I roll my eyes at the hearts splashed across the windows and the phrase ‘you’re the cream to my coffee’ scrawled in huge letters.
But if I ignore the overly sweet sentiment of love, everywhere I’ve been in Enchanted Hollow oozes charm. The buildings feel like a blast from the past, with uneven stones and wood and iron rather than simply glass and steel. I’m still not used to the heft of the wooden door of this place, a steaming coffee mug design made of stained glass in the middle of it.
Even inside, it feels like I’m stepping into a storybook. Flecks of gold sparkle in the green floor tile, and plush purple velvet cushions outfit the bar seats.
“Still here?” Quinn asks as she steps up to the register. She’s cute and kind, but I’m not here to meet anyone.
I shrug. “Got nowhere else to be.”
“Well, I’m glad you picked here.” She smiles at me, but not in a flirtatious way.
I think that’s one reason I like being here, honestly. At home it feels like I’m always ‘on’, charming people, putting my best face forward. Press is important.
But here, I can just be me.
I’m still figuring out who that is, but I enjoy the pressure being off.
“Me too. Are those divulging a company secret?” I ask, pointing to the tile dragons puffing out fire along the back wall. “I’ve always wanted a pet dragon. Dogs are cool, but they don’t fly.”
Quinn snickers at me and shakes her head. “I suppose anything is possible but we make our coffee the old-fashioned way.” She jerks a thumb over her shoulder toward the espresso machine. “What will you have?”
“Do you have anything without ‘cupid’, ‘sweetheart’ or ‘love’ in the title?”
“It’s almost Valentine’s Day, Weston. Deal with it.”
I scoff as my eyes roam the menu. “I’ll take the white chocolate mocha.”
“You mean the Happily Ever After Mocha?” She smiles sweetly, batting her eyelashes.
Women .
“Can you swap the chocolate heart on top with extra strawberry puree?”
“Fine. Grouch.” She laughs. “Give me a few minutes. Will you be here for trivia night?”
“Still don’t have anywhere else to be.”
“You’re on my team this week. We’ve got to take Jack and Gus down.”
I leave a twenty on the counter and chuckle about the two older friends that own the town hardware shop. This place is full of interesting people and businesses.
There’s still a lot I could see for being such a small place, but I have to force myself out of the house to move around. Get some vitamin D. Fresh air. By the end of the counter where drinks are delivered is a bulletin board advertising all the local happenings.
A moonlit wine walk at the local vineyard.
Carriage rides around the square.
There’s one for Ever After Farms that piques my interest: Cupid’s Arrow Archery.
This town.
I thank Quinn for my drink and head back out, wondering who came up with Valentine’s Day colors. Enormous pink heart garlands stretch between buildings the width of the street. It’s like Pepto Bismal exploded everywhere.
My mind travels back to the flier for Ever After Farms. I wonder what Bridget is doing. We didn’t interact much at the wedding, but every once in a while she creeps into my thoughts. She’s the one woman in recent memory who couldn’t have cared less who I was.
And that fascinates me.
Almost like she materializes from my thoughts, Bridget appears as I turn onto Main Street. She’s deep in thought, glancing down as she walks and completely unaware that I’m here.
“Hey there, Spitfire. Penny for your thoughts?”
Bridget jumps as I fall into step beside her. When she glances up at me, her cheeks are flushed and irritation dances in her eyes.
“Shouldn’t you be watching your calorie count? The Super Bowl is right around the corner.”
I don’t expect her to know my status on the team, but it still feels like a shot to the gut. If I were joining my team at the Super Bowl, I’d be living a completely different life than I am right now. As luck would have it, I’m here with Bridget.
“Kind of hard to play with this.” I motion to the giant brace on my knee.
She lets out a soft groan and ducks her head. “I’m sorry.”
“I can think of worse places I could be.” With a nonchalant shrug, I take a deep drink of coffee. The women in this town seem to be immune to me. Quinn, Bridget—it’s interesting. Especially in a place that seems to be known for matchmaking. I swear I hear it in every conversation.
I don’t know if I want Bridget to like me or not. Pretty sure I’d make a terrible date right now. But she’s a mystery wrapped up in a pretty bow. A real pretty bow.
And she’s challenging.
A challenge could help get my mind off how weird everything feels right now.
“If you’re forced to sit out, why aren’t you off on an island somewhere enjoying yourself? This place is small. And cold.” I feel her eyes on me and grin down at her.
Truth be told, I contemplated it. But then I remembered how hard sand can be to walk on with two normal legs and opted out pretty quickly.
“Maybe I want to fall off the map for a while. Small isn’t bad. And I don’t mind the cold. Perfect cuddle weather.”
She rolls her eyes and I contemplate calling her out on it. I mean, it is perfect cuddle weather. Doesn’t she have a fiancé?
I wonder if I can get a glimpse of her ring.
“Shouldn’t you be in PT for your knee? I can’t imagine this place has adequate therapy for someone like you.”
I press a hand to my chest, feigning shock. “Aw, Bridget, does this mean you care?”
She groans with another eye roll, and flashes her left hand at me. Again. “Still engaged, Mr. First Down, Last Nerve.”
Booo.
“I can see, Spitfire. Wedding stress got you all in knots?” I joke, refusing to acknowledge the ripple of jealousy I feel knowing she’s still taken.
“What?”
A few steps later, I realize I’m walking alone. I stop and glance over my shoulder, where Bridget is frozen in place, staring at me.
What did I say?
My knees ache as I walk back to her. I never meant to walk so much after I worked out, but when I get around Bridget I seem to turn into a whole different person.
“You’re tense. Worry wrinkles all over your pretty forehead.” I motion with the hand holding my coffee, sloshing a few drops out of the hole on the lid. “I figure it must be the wedding.”
She chews on her lip, and my eyes snag on the movement. They’re a soft pink today. Last time they were a deep berry color. Both times I’ve noticed how kissable she looks. Which is wholly inappropriate considering her relationship status, but I’m just using my eyes. She’s a beautiful woman and I’m injured, not dead.
Her phone pings with an incoming text and she sighs. Her eyes drop to the screen and she tenses at whatever she sees there.
Well, that can’t be good. Right?
Her fingers curl around the phone before she presses the button on the side to dim the screen.
“Bridget?” It’s taking enormous amounts of self control to not reach out and touch her, pull her close. She looks like she needs a hug. “You okay?”
“Right as rain,” she says, pressing her shoulders back. “Just a wedding hiccup. Like you said.”
I know Bridget’s type. She keeps a facade of control and order, but inside she’s anything but. She’s like Monica Gellar with the tidy, perfect apartment, but a locked up closet of messy shame. Yeah, that’s right. I watched all ten seasons in the first weeks after my surgery. And it was funny.
We stop in front of The Grotto, one of my favorite restaurants in this town. It’s delicious food and a great view of Mirror Lake, probably better when it’s warmer. But as we stand here, the scents of their menu are making my stomach growl, I have a thought. I dig my phone out of my pocket with my free hand and pull up the place I’m currently staying.
I don’t know her story, but everyone needs a break. An escape. A place to temporarily forget their problems.
Wanderlust Refuge was a place I found on one of the short-term rental websites. The charm of the restored Victorian home grabbed me as soon I scrolled to it. Kind of like a gingerbread house waiting in the woods. But inside it’s updated and comfortable.
There’s a big screen television and a huge comfortable couch. My dog Bailey especially likes laying on it. It’s got a great kitchen for me to cook in when I want to, and it’s off the beaten path.
It’s perfect.
“It’s a nice place,” I tell her. “I’m only staying for another week, but maybe you should look into it. For later. De-stress and enjoy a little escape.”
She swipes through the listing, her face only showing the slightest flicker of interest every once in a while. Finally, she lifts her eyes back to mine.
“I guess if you want to fall off the map this seems like the place to do it,” she chuckles.
“That’s the idea,” I reply. She can’t know how true that statement is. I love my teammates and I’m so hyped for their success—but it breaks my heart that I can’t be on that field with them.
Maybe it sounds dramatic, maybe not. But I know how hard we worked to get there and life is still moving full speed ahead without me.
I hate it.
“I don’t need to fall off the map, Weston. Not really my cup of tea.” She hands me my phone back.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” I tuck it into my pocket, and sigh. I’ve gone about as long as I can today, which means I’m not cooking. Takeout it is. “Well, I’m going to grab food and head back.”
She steps back and nods, clearly distancing herself from me.
“I’ve got an appointment at Moonlight and Lace for dresses.”
“Sounds like a rousing good time.” I chuckle, taking another sip of coffee.
She glances off to the side and tugs her coat a little closer as a biting wind blows down the street.
“It’ll be great,” she insists, even though she doesn’t sound very convincing.
My parents have Irish lineage. We sort of keep one foot in and one foot out—but there’s one tradition we always do today. I’d almost forgotten, and need to set a reminder. She might think I’m a little weird for mentioning it, but I want to extend an olive branch in her direction.
Let her know that I understand life is getting weird.
“Try a little something for me, Spitfire. Leave a cloth out tonight.”
“And why would I do that?” She wrinkles her nose.
I take a few slow, deliberate steps backward because she’s way too cute when she looks like that. “It’s St. Brigid’s Eve. If you leave a cloth out, she’ll bless it and ward off illness and pain.”
I’ll take whatever I can get as far as blessings these days, so you’d think this would’ve been at the top of my to-do list today.
“What kind of cloth would I leave out?” she asks.
It’s a miracle already—she’s not insulting me. There’s no stopping the smile that spreads across my face. I motion at the dark green scarf around her neck. “That scarf you’re wearing would do just fine.”
“I’m not saying I’m going to do it!” She yells as the distance between us grows.
“What do you have to lose, Bridie?”
I can’t help it. Calling her by her Irish name is only going to rile her up and I love to see her irritated.
Right on cue, she yells: “It’s Bridget!”
“I know,” I say with a laugh as I turn into the entrance of the restaurant.
Maybe I should look into a longer stay.