Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
“ W elcome to Mountain Brew,” the barista greeted from behind the counter of one of Stella’s favorite places in town. The worker’s smile was so bright, her eyes so lively, Stella wondered if for every drink she sold, the barista chugged two herself. And if that was the case, could she quickly throw some caffeine her way ASAP.
“Hi, I’d like a large pumpkin spice latte for me, and a medium Americano for you, right?” Lucy nodded at Stella and started digging through her purse. “Nope. My treat today.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
She didn’t have to, but she wanted to. And not just because paying in one transaction meant they’d get their coffees faster, although that certainly was a mark in the pro column. “This is your wedding week. You’re not paying for anything.”
“Except for dinner for about one hundred fifty people.”
“Yeah, except for that.”
They chuckled as Stella handed over her credit card.
The barista grabbed two cups and a marker. “Can I get names for the order?”
“Stella and Lucy,” Stella answered, knowing what was going to happen next. Mountain Brew was the place where nobody knew your name. It said so on the sign at the front of the store. The gimmick was to give famous last names to match the first name given for each order. And since there were very few Stellas in Hollywood, Stella’s name was hardly a surprise.
“Order up for Lucy Hale and Stella Pritchett.” Yep, the dog on Modern Family , as per usual. The girls grabbed their drinks from the counter, and the scent of the spices perked her up almost immediately.
“Next order up for Johnny Galecki,” the barista shouted as she set another drink down.
“That’s me,” a deep voice said from behind as an arm snaked around Stella to grab the drink.
“Johnny,” she said when she turned to face him. He flashed one of his megawatt smiles in her direction, the one that drew everyone to him. “How are you this morning?”
“Not too shabby. Are you ladies in a hurry, or would you like to have a seat?” He gestured to one of the bistro tables next to the front window.
She looked at Lucy, deferring to her since she was the one with the wedding coming up and probably a zillion things to do before then.
Lucy shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”
It sounded good to Stella too. The contractors started working on the salon this morning, and the more she could keep her mind off everything going on with that, the better.
Johnny pulled one of the metal chairs out from the table and sat down. “Do you guys have everything ready for the big week?” He looked at both of them, but Stella didn’t have an answer.
She should have been the one planning the events for the week leading up to the wedding, being the maid of honor and all. But Lucy had insisted she had everything under control, and all the activities were planned. Well, except for one—the ginger-dead houses they were going to make. And the popcorn balls she was in charge of bringing…which made her think of Nate.
When she’d mentioned the trip the other night, he looked terrified, like spending a weekend at a resort was akin to getting a root canal without Novocain. All the pomp and circumstance surrounding a wedding was so not his thing. Nathan was allergic to fun, always so serious and brooding. Except for the other night, when he didn’t seem to hate making the treats.
“I have so many fun things planned. Just you wait, Johnny,” Lucy answered, her face glowing brighter than the jack-o-lantern light strand that lined the counter. “It’s going to be all couples at the lodge, so there will be a lot of fun couple-y things.
Johnny’s brows waggled under the brim of his baseball hat. “Any chance of a dance competition? Because I don’t want to brag, but my wife and I will smoke all of you.”
“And yet, I feel like that was totally a brag,” Stella said, shooting a smirk in his direction.
He sipped his drink, leaving a foam mustache along his upper lip as he grinned. “It’s not bragging when it’s the truth.” He leaned back from the table, his arms spread wide. “May the best couple win.”
“Yeah,” Stella responded as she leaned across the table, her competitiveness fortifying her even though she had to really focus to even clap to a beat. Didn’t matter. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? “Let the best couple—wait.”
She shot back from the table so quickly the metal chair scraped along the tile floor, sending a loud squeak echoing through the busy cafe. “It’s going to be all couples at the lodge,” she whispered, the words Lucy had said moments ago finally clicking in her under-caffeinated brain. Her head snapped in the direction of her cousin, who suddenly found her coffee cup the most interesting thing at the café. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, well…” Lucy twisted the cup back and forth on the table, still not meeting Stella’s eyes. “A couple people from the salon backed out, so it’ll just be Hannah and Max, Johnny and Angie, obviously Eric and me?—”
Stella crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at her cousin. “And Nate and me.”
“That’s right!” Her reply was bubblier than it had been last night when she’d so casually mentioned she and Eric couldn’t make it to help with the popcorn balls.
“But we’re not a couple.”
“Well, no, but everyone else who will be at the lodge is already married or engaged.” As she spoke, the light danced off the ring on her left hand, and she remembered why they were doing this. Why they were having this weekend in the first place. To celebrate her cousin and the fact that she’d found the love of her life. “And you guys will be okay hanging out together, right? I mean, you already work together. And you worked fine together last night when you made the popcorn balls, right?”
At the mention of last night, her stomach swooped like she’d fallen out of a plane. She took a pull of her coffee. And then another. And then cursed in her head that she was out of caffeine. It was Nathan’s fault she’d needed it so badly today to begin with. Thoughts of him had kept her up most of the night. The warmth of his body behind her was something she could still feel hours later. Or maybe that was the coffee coursing through her body. Yeah, that made more sense.
Johnny waved a hand in front of her face. “Are you, uh…with us, Stella Bella?”
She blinked, shaking her head, wondering why the backs of her hands still tingled. Why where he’d touched her still held the warmth of his skin. Her cup was halfway to her mouth before she remembered it was empty, and before she could set it on the table, she dropped it to the floor.
“Okey dokey,” Johnny said, bending to pick up the empty cup. “I think you’re officially cut off from caffeine for today.”
Funny, she’d only had the one cup. Yet her hands were shaking like she’d had ten times that amount.
“Are you okay?” Lucy asked, her voice lower and not nearly as peppy as before.
“I’m fine. Just thinking, that’s all.” They didn’t need to know what she was thinking about. They couldn’t know. She had no business daydreaming about Nathan like this. He was her employee—and a good one at that. Dependable. Hardworking.
Attractive .
But so what? There were lots of attractive men in town. Take Johnny, for instance. As she turned to him, she noticed the foam mustache had somehow migrated to his nose, so maybe this wasn’t the best example.
The point was, just because Nathan was good looking, it didn’t mean she had any kinds of feelings for him. The shaking hands, the clamminess, the inability to focus…those were all the telltale signs of a caffeine deficit. Ask any medical web browser, and they would have all agreed. Stella just needed a refill. That would cure…all this.
She walked to the counter and ordered another PSL. When the barista came back with the filled cup, she placed another drink on the counter.
“This one is yours, and this one is for Griddy Granny.”
Stella’s eyes bounced around the café, wondering when her grandma had snuck in. It wasn’t like her to fly under the radar. Take her name here, for instance. Thanks to her record-setting performance playing Plinko on The Price is Right this summer, she was the only patron at Mountain Brew who didn’t get a celebrity name…because she already was one—well, a local one. But she was a big enough deal to have a small parade down Main Street and little touches honoring her around town, like the signed, framed photo of her griddying down to Contestant’s Row next to the register. That was, after all, how she’d gotten the nickname…and been the subject of a viral hashtag…and gotten an interview on The Today Show .
“Well, look who it is,” a voice boomed as a small, wrinkled arm reached around her to grab a cup.
“Grandma Millie!” They exchanged a one-armed hug, careful not to spill their beverages. But even half a hug from Grandma Millie had twice the umph of a full hug from anyone else.
“What’s my girl doing here this morning? Care to sit and chat a bit?”
Stella looked back at her table. Johnny was gone, and Lucy was on her phone, probably sorting through some wedding business. “That sounds good, yeah.”
They walked to a table by the window, patrons smiling at and saying hello to the town’s most famous resident. And like the ham that she was, Gram ate up every single second.
“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” Stella joked as they took their seats.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It was only when Gram leaned back in her seat that she noticed her Pucker Up, Dreamy Drew shirt, the one she’d worn during her viral moment. She knew the shirt well, not because it lived on the internet for weeks after the show but because Gram had given her a matching one for the trip. Because when Grandma Millie says, “Let’s have an adventure,” you say yes…embarrassing outfits included.
“So,” Gram said, leaning forward on the table. “How’s your biz?”
She sucked in a breath, knowing Grandma Millie was talking about the salon. Stella’s salon. “Things are going well. Thanks to you.”
“Oh, honey.” She reached across the table, taking Stella’s hand in hers. “Nothing I could have done with that Plinko money would have made me happier.”
From the smile on her face, Stella believed her. She just wished she felt the same. Instead, it made her…something else. But she taped that big ol’ smile on her face anytime someone asked her about the salon.
When she’d bought the salon from Mrs. Bronson, she didn’t have enough to cover it all. And instead of taking out a loan, her parents so graciously offered to front her the money, something she thought she would have done much faster than she had. But things got in the way—like rising taxes and a pandemic. And while it made her nervous, her parents gambling on her like that, she’d been so overwhelmed with first-time business ownership that she didn’t have much time to think about it.
But then Grandma swooped in like her fairy godmother and cut her a check with her prize money. When she’d done it, Stella had nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all. Her whole life, Gram would stuff a five-dollar bill in her pocket. ‘ For some candy ,’ she’d said when she was a kid, which turned into, ‘ For gas money’ and ‘ For a frappy-cino’ when she got older.
After her stint on The Price is Right , she stuffed a $50,000 check into the pocket of her jeans as though it was a five. ‘ For your salon.’
Her salon.
“I still can’t believe you gave me the money.” Stella’s eyes turned glassy any time she thought about it.
“I’d do it again and again.”
“Why did you, though? That seemed like a big risk, placing your bets on, well… me. ”
“Oh, my Stella. I knew this was an adventure you were dying to take. You just needed a little nudge to get going.”
She looked down at her drink. “I never used to need that.”
“That’s because you’ve forgotten what it tastes like.”
She looked up from her cup. “What? Coffee?”
“Adventure.”
Stella wasn’t so sure about that, but who was she to argue with the woman whose middle name was adventure. It was Gram’s wild idea that got them to California and her on a national game show in the first place.
“You’ve got a lot of faith in me, I guess.”
“I always have.” Gram winked, and without words, Stella knew what she was really talking about. Because when she had once lost faith in herself, her grandma had helped her find it. Little did she know, she could use a little help finding it now. “And you should believe me. I’m a wise old nutmeg. Don’t you forget it.”
Stella scrunched her brows. “A nutmeg?”
“I’m definitely not a wise old sage. Don’t care much for sage at all. Never really liked bay leaf either. Basil is only okay, and dill is a mess if you ask me.”
“I’m not…” Stella rubbed her head, feeling laughter bubble in her chest as Gram rattled off her personal feelings about herbs and spices that no one asked for. “I’m not sure you’re using the phrase right.”
“Ain’t nobody stopped me yet.”
And now she was wondering how many people knew Gram was a nutmeg.
“What are you guys talking about?” Lucy asked as she approached the table.
“I’m…not really sure,” Stella said, throwing both her and her grandma into a fit of laughter.
“Well, I don’t mean to break up the party, but that was Nate on the phone, and he and Eric are going to meet us at the lodge. So, if you’re ready…”
“Sure. We can get going.” She stood from the table, gathering her purse. “Gram, we’ll see you at the wedding, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Make sure you ladies have a fun adventure or two this week.”
A week away from work and the salon was exactly what she needed. A week of couples—and Nate? Well, that seemed like something Gram would call an adventure. But unlike one of Gram’s adventures, Stella hoped there wouldn’t be too many surprises.
“What do you mean Stella and I are sharing a room?”
Nate stared at Eric and Lucy, his jaw slack and his arms limp at his sides, staring at the two keycards in his brother’s open hand. Keycards to the room he and Stella were apparently sharing.
He didn’t reach for them. Doing so meant he was accepting this breaking news. And he most certainly wasn’t doing that. Denial was his middle name. “There have to be other rooms available. You said Marcie and her husband backed out, right? We can just get that room back.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the man behind the counter said, adding his name to the list that also included Lucy’s and Eric’s. “With the autumn festival this week, we’re all booked up. Your other party’s room was probably filled before your friend got off the phone to cancel.”
Wonderful.
A family walked by, pushing a luggage cart so full it defied the laws of physics—especially when the youngest child hopped on the top for a ride. Maybe Eric could see if they’d share some space in their room. The kid hanging off the cart looked like someone who might like to spend a weekend with a werewolf as a roommate.
“What about bunking up with you guys?” He looked at Eric and Lucy. “I could stay with my brother and?—”
Eric shook his head. “No way, bro. Lucy got us the penthouse suite—two bedrooms, one giant tub. It’s part of the package with having our wedding here…right, honey?”
“Oh, yes. It’s lodge policy. Our name is on the room, so we…we have to stay in that room.” Yeah, Lucy’s lip was definitely quivering. Very convincing. But he let it go. It was their big week. They deserved to stay in the luxurious space with all its extra amenities.
His eyes moved to the other end of the lobby where the other two couples sat snuggled on the couches next to the roaring fireplace. He wasn’t about to ask any of them to switch, not when they looked like they needed the jaws of life to separate.
“Well, that’s that.” He snatched the two keycards from his brother’s hand. “Guess this one’s for you…roomie.”
She slipped the card out of his hand and tucked it into her purse.
Nate’s eyes looked her over, ignoring her tight jeans and the slouchy sweater that barely met the top of said jeans, looking for some indication that she was as frustrated about this whole situation as he was. “You’re being awfully quiet. I’m sure you’re not happy about this either.”
She shrugged. “You heard the man. This place is at capacity. What else can we do?”
He grunted and pulled his duffel bag over his shoulder. She was right. What else could they do? All that was left was to go to the room and check out the one bed in it. Probably had rose petals in the shape of a heart, champagne, candles, the whole nine freaking yards. That was what usually happened in these situations, right? At least, that was what had happened in the only romance book his brother had ever gotten him to read. That was fiction, of course. Those kinds of things didn’t happen in real life—he hoped, anyway.
He looked at Stella, her long blonde hair flowing down her back, a stark contrast to her dark sweater. Suddenly, he imagined her hair fanned out around her in bed. Their bed. He swallowed. Hard. Taking a breath so deep he’d probably sucked in half the oxygen in the lobby, he willed himself to settle. This was so…not like him. Aside from the times he shifted, he always could control himself. And yet, the prospect of sharing a room with Stella…her being the last thing he saw before he slept and the first thing he saw when he woke…it was suddenly too much.
“Goldfish?” Stella said, bringing him back to the present moment and away from thoughts of what she wore when she went to bed.
“In the fountain? I don’t think there are any fish in that.”
“No.” She shook her head and held up a bag of the cheddar-flavored snack. “You look a little…pale? Maybe you need something to eat.” She reached for his hand, pulling his fingers out of his tightly clenched fist. The second the pads of her fingers made contact with his skin, a zap so intense traveled through his body. If he’d been in his werewolf form, every hair on his body would have stuck up on end.
“Thanks,” he croaked, unable to force enough air through his mouth to not sound like an amphibian. “These are perfect.”
She tucked the half empty pouch in her purse. “That’s why I keep them around.”
He popped one in his mouth. She was right that he was hungry—more like he was hungry for something to think about besides his living situation for the next few days. Goldfish crackers to the rescue. “You keep these for hunger emergencies?”
“Nope. Just for you.”
His head snapped in her direction. “For me?”
“Yeah. I started keeping them at the salon for you because you get a little… something when you’re hungry.”
He thought about the giant glass bowl of the snack-sized bags that appeared one day on the receptionist’s desk at the salon. He’d never given much thought to where it came from or who kept refilling it. Although, he was pretty sure he was the only one who ever ate any. But hunger was one of the things that made him shift. She couldn’t have known that, right?
“You noticed that?”
“I notice everything about you.”
Nate froze. What exactly had she noticed? That he’d stared at her more times than he cared to admit, unable to make himself stop? That if he didn’t eat regularly, he started to shift? That he wasn’t like the other people in town, because he wasn’t people at all?
He bent to grab her luggage—and to avoid eye contact—at the same time she did. This time when their hands touched, he pulled back like he’d been burnt. Because he had once, hadn’t he? He’d acted on his feelings, and he’d paid dearly for it. He brought his hand to his chest, and he swore he could still feel the pain there as real and alive as the heart that pounded beneath his palm.
They walked to the elevator, his feet becoming less steady with each step he took. His only hope was that this time together, in such close proximity, would work in his favor. Maybe it would make her less appealing to him. With any luck, she snored louder than a garbage truck. He prayed she was super messy and would leave her clothes thrown about the room. Like shirts strewn across the bed, pants on the floor. As long as she didn’t leave her under…things lying about, everything was going to be fine.
He swallowed once. Twice. The thought of her under-anythings had him wanting to run back to the lobby to stick his whole head in that fountain. Or maybe he’d just go back to the lobby and stay. They had couches there. Maybe he could set up camp there.
No, what he needed to do was buck up. He was a man—sort of. He could handle sharing a room with Stella.
Now if only he believed that.