Chapter one
Skylar
"Dad?"
"I'm in the can." My dad's grumbly voice is loud in the tiny apartment, even through the closed door.
I stifle a sigh, crossing to the fridge with containers of food. As I stand in the small kitchenette, awkwardly trying to decide if I should wait here for my dad to finish his business or leave, I peer around at his small space.
Piles of mail sit on the desk, books are stacked next to the one chair facing the TV, and a small frame holds a picture of me from when I was eight years old. Otherwise, his apartment lacks any personal touches. Cheap blinds on the windows, no curtains or throw pillows. His TV is a decent size, but this place holds nothing of value. No doubt about it, he lives like a bachelor.
"Alright, I'm headed downstairs. Call if you need anything." I look around and then check his bedside table. "Where's the phone?"
His lack of response is my answer.
I roll my eyes and start looking around the apartment. My dad is resistant to technology, and that's putting it nicely. It's like he's stuck in the 1970s. It's a fact about my dad that I typically don't mind, as I don't usually talk to him more than a few times a year. But now that I've become his caregiver for the time being, it's a real pain in the ass.
"Found it!" I call to him, locating it under a t-shirt that smells like it needs to be washed. I make a mental note to check for laundry detergent soon.
"I'm putting it on your bedside table, and it's already powered on. Don't turn it off," I yell a little louder than necessary as I turn to leave. The door to the bathroom opens, and my father hobbles out, wiping his wet hands on his t-shirt.
"On or off." He grimaces, holding his side as he walks slowly to the bed. "Doesn't make a difference. It's not like I can call you. No reception."
I take a deep breath, mustering as much patience as I can manage after only four days of taking care of my dad. "Yes, but the Wi-Fi is enabled, so you can still text me."
My dad groans as he lies on the bed, and I soften a bit.
He and his friend Monica were in an accident the day before Christmas Eve. I got the message in the middle of the sexiest night of my life and took off immediately to catch the last bus outof town before the storm. I rode a Greyhound with no panties and a broken heart, wearing one of my former boss's T-shirts over my sexy dress.
I spent Christmas in the hospital, getting Dad and Monica’s paperwork in order before I drove them five hours to Fox Falls, where they live.
Monica and Dad were vague about what happened, mumbling about a car accident and a tree. They were in so much pain that I didn't push for more details. But I've since learned through the grapevine—which is thick and lustrous in Fox Falls—that my dad and Monica were doing the deed in her car and forgot to set the emergency parking brake. Rolling down the hill, they crashed into a tree. They're lucky to be alive since they weren't wearing seatbelts, and the closest major hospital is hours away.
My dad broke his leg and a bunch of ribs. Monica, who’s in her early forties and younger than my dad, broke both wrists and her ankle. They will both need time to recover, which is where I come in. Guilt prompted my dad to call the daughter he talks to twice a year (me) to come and help Monica. But not him. He’d rather I didn’t check in with him at all, but he wanted Monica—his “friend”—taken care of.
Despite his not being the best father, I love him. So here I am, running Monica's bar in the middle of the Smoky Mountains, with no reception and shaky internet.
What my dad doesn't know is that he called me the night I was getting railed by my three sexy-as-sin former bosses, while dealing with an existential crisis of epic proportions as I figured out what the cold light of day was going to bring.
The truth is, I needed an out. My heart is involved, and I'm convinced it would’ve been broken if I’d stayed there. But the distance hasn't stopped my broody, grumpy, horny mind from spinning in an endless cyclone of anxiety and sadness. I've never been this busy in my life, so the fact that I can still find time tothink about what could have been, would have been, or, worse, whatwas, is a freaking miracle.
Monica's bar,TheWet Whistle,is the only one open during the winter season in Fox Falls. Affectionately known as Foxy Falls by the locals, the town is a popular summer tourist destination, offering hiking, boating, camping, and a quaint main street lined with numerous restaurants.
Winter here is not easy. The main road is often closed due to snow, and the distance makes it harder to attract tourists during the coldest months of the year; as a result, the town essentially shuts down to anyone who is not local. Many merchants and workers take time off during the winter and head to cities for work, then return when the tourist season begins again.
Foxy Falls in the winter is like a different town, but it's still adorable. It has a small-town mountain feel, and the locals are amazing. Even though I'm worried about getting stuck here for the entire winter, it could be worse. Unfortunately, my brain and heart are back in the city with the three sexy men who ruined me.
"All right, I'm headed down to open up. Vance is already prepping in the kitchen."
Vance Moorhead is a fantastic chef from the city who has become a local since he refuses to leave when it gets cold. His restaurant only opens for dinner three nights a week in the off-season, so Monica pays him to run a lunch menu atThe Wet Whistleduring the winter months.
"Vance doesn't need you to open for him. Why are you here so early?" my dad says, looking at me as if he's about to gripe about me checking on him.
I raise my hand to stop him from saying anything remotely ungrateful. "The auction is tomorrow night," I remind him, crossing my arms and trying not to glare at him.
I apparently need to spend a little more time earning my halo, because in addition to keeping Monica's bar open for daily service, I’m in charge of the hottest New Year's Eve event in town—theFoxy Falls Dating Auction. This year, the auction will raise money for repairs to the town hall. However, the fundraising is secondary to the romantic connections, from what I've gathered.
Are we auctioning off bachelors? Why, no. In Foxy Falls, the women are auctioned off for dates with the men. Winter is long here, and since the quarry opened a few years ago, men outnumber the women in Foxy Falls five to one.
