Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
More teeth grinding.
I swallowed around the lump of frustrated annoyance and bit the inside of my cheek…hard. “Sounds nice.”
“Do you want to talk to them? I can have them call you once they’ve dried off. Frank can—”
“No,” I intercepted sharply, softening my voice and adding, “That’s okay. I’ll catch them later. Let’s stay in touch. And if there’s a break in the weather, I can make the trip to Fallbrook and pick them up.”
“Sure. Um…okay.”
An awkward silence lingered on the line for a beat too long. That was on me.
“Stay safe,” I finally replied.
“We will. Hey, Coop, I—”
“What is it?”
“Never mind. I…hey, we can talk another time,” she said in a rush. “You stay safe, too.”
I tossed my cell onto my desk, closed my eyes, and dug the heels of my hands into the sockets. I wasn’t sure why I was angry, but I was. It wasn’t Sarah’s fault that Mother Nature had gone rogue. It wasn’t Frank’s fault that the kids liked him. Hell, it was actually a good thing that they did.
So the day had gone sideways…so what? Shit happened, and the only thing that really mattered was that Ivy and Chase were healthy, happy, and thriving. And safe.
I can handle a day or two on my own, I thought bleakly. No problem.
CHAPTER 3
SILAS
First impression: Wood Hollow was a cute town with an old-timey, mid-twentieth-century feel. Even in the dead of winter when this section of the world was covered with a thick layer of snow—trees, cars, lampposts, benches—and the white stuff just kept falling.
I’d bet it was pretty during the holidays with that authentic feel that Hollywood sought to replicate in those feel-good, wholesome rom-coms…or in creepy murder mysteries. But for now, it looked like a place forgotten by time. Quaint, yet something I would have appreciated a fuck of a lot more if the sun had been shining and the thermometer hadn’t been hovering in the late teens.
I felt like an intrepid explorer as I trudged Main Street with my jacket zipped to my chin, my nose buried in the down fabric, peeking into windows.
The town had one of everything the average person would need to get by: Wood Hollow First National Bank, Dexter’s Donuts, Whiskers and Paws Pet Shop, Mike and Sam’s Pizza Parlor, Log Cabin Diner, a hair salon, a clothing boutique—and thank you, baby Jesus, a coffee shop.
A nice one, too. Soft jazz music played from the speakers of Rise and Grind under the hum of conversation, the clink of earthenware, and the whoosh of steam from the heavy-duty machinery behind the counter.
The queue reached the door and looped along a brick wall covered with coffee-themed oil paintings. There was a still life with beans, a carafe and cup, two friends clinking mugs. Not fine art by any stretch, but the pieces lent a spot of color in an otherwise monochrome space. Black-and-white checkerboard flooring, check. Marble counters and tabletops, check. And the requisite overhead chalkboard menu listing beverages, specials, and a daily coffee-tude.
Today’s read: A morning without coffee is like…sleep.
Check.
I approved. My shoulders slipped from my ears for the first time in what felt like months. The innocuous chatter was oddly calming, even though it was all about the incoming storm.
“We got a foot last night, and they’re calling for another eighteen inches overnight. Maybe more,” a large grizzly-looking dude in an orange winter coat said.
“The kids love it. I bet schools will be closed all week,” a woman with frizzy blond hair and pink cheeks commented.
“As long as the generators are working, it’s gonna be fine.”
I shuffled along and thought about texting Vally to give him a hard time for practically pushing me into the path of a fucking blizzard, but the line moved quickly, and my earlier angst had dissipated. To be honest, the cold and ice and general buzz in the air got my blood pumping. Sure, it had sucked to wake up to zero coffee and a rental car buried in snow, but my neighbor had saved the day.
Cooper. Nice guy.
A fucking lumberjack. Huh. I’d never met a real lumberjack till this morning. And now…I was surrounded.
I cast a surreptitious glance at the barrel-chested men huddled at the counter and the even bigger guy placing an order with the cute curly-haired redhead at the register. I was a six-foot-four seasoned professional athlete, but damn, I was almost petite next to these hulks. I snickered at the thought as I stepped forward and greeted the barista.
“Hi, there. Can I get two extra-large Americanos, two croissants, and…” I squinted at the board. “Do you sell beans? I’m not positive, but I think I saw a grinder in the kitchen at the house I’m staying at. If the storm is as bad as everyone is saying, I’ll need a lot of coffee.”