“He specifically mentioned the girl from the inn. I told him that she wasn’t my type, you know, to get him off my back.”
“How’d that go?” Chaser didn’t seem all that interested in the conversation but was entertaining it.
“Fine. Until I told him that the hot brunette I saw at the G-Spot was more my type.”
Chaser turned to look at me as though he were in slow motion. His eyebrows raised so high they almost disappeared underneath his cowboy hat. “Is that all you said?”
“I mean, I described her. Hot, brunette, dressed in all black, classy—no, wait, I told him I liked older women.”
Chaser shook his head and rubbed his hand on his eye. “Dude. Was she kind of short and her hair super shiny? Like, did she look like she belonged in New York, not Chance Rapids?”
I snapped my fingers. “Totally.”
“Yeah, that’s Billie Jo, but she goes by Charlotte now. She grew up here, left, and came back a rich, fancy real estate broker. You really said that to Logan?”
My inhale was long and I took my time before exhaling. “Idid. I was trying to convince him that I wasn’t going to make any problems with Evie.”
It was the first time I’d said her name to someone else, and I liked the way it sounded coming out of my mouth. “Yeah, well. You just told the owner that you fancied his fucking wife.”
My foot eased off the gas involuntarily. “Oh. No.”
Chaser slapped the dashboard and howled. “Oo-eeee. Tinsel. You fucked up. You would’ve been better off telling him you were going to bang…wait a minute, you’re staying at the inn with Evie Newton?”
I nodded. “Yes, until I find a place to live.”
He whistled. It was clearly one of his standard responses. “I can see why Logan was concerned. She’s the hottest single Rapidian in town. Every guy has been trying to get with her, but I think she’s celibate or something.”
“Like a nun?” The milkmaid uniform was very off-brand if this was true.
“Yeah, I think so.”
The yellow light from the north intersection lit up the cab as I pressed on the brakes. It was still daylight, but the clouds hung low overhead. It wasn’t snowing, but it looked like it could start at any second. The truck skidded, and we stopped, but halfway into the intersection. Luckily, we were the only car on the road. “These roads are shit.” I shook my head but made a mental note to slow down. I loved the damn truck far too much to get into a fender bender.
“This is a good day.” Chaser had grabbed onto the bar above the door. “They don’t use road salt here, so the snow just gets compacted down until it turns into ice. Those sandbags will really help you out.”
It wasn’t a big deal, and nothing had happened, but sliding into the intersection had got my heart thumping a little harder than normal. Everyone wanted Evie, and no one could have her. Finding out this information had theopposite effect than it should have—it made me want her even more.
“Can we make a quick stop at the hardware store?” I asked.
“It’s your truck, man.” Chaser leaned back and turned up the radio. “I’ll wait here.”
I pulled in front of the hardware store, got what I needed, and was back in the truck before the song was over.
After getting the sandbags from Chaser’s house and ensuring him that I would meet him at the Last Chance tomorrow night, I headed back to the inn.
I had failed at two things. One, I made friends with my teammates, and two, I couldn’t stop thinking about the pretty girl with the braids. As I parked the truck in the rear lot, my cell phone rang. It was Coalman. I didn’t want to answer, but I owed the man, big time. The truck cooled quickly as I listened to Coach outline our plan. And as fast as the truck became frigid, so did my warming to Chance Rapids. I couldn’t like it here. I had to keep everyone at arm’s length because I was going to ruin everything.
SIX
EVIE
My alarm clock went off,but instead of rolling over to press the sleep button, I hopped out of bed. Above me, Nick’s floor was silent. The night before, I had nodded off to the sound of his footfall, wondering what he was doing and how it went with the Bobcats.
When the bathroom was steamy, I stepped out of my polka dot pajamas and into the shower.
As soon as the hot water hit my skin, I realized that I had forgotten to get the contact cement we needed for the dishwasher. It was still functional, but that pipe could burst at any time. An ounce of prevention is something, something, I racked my brain to remember the saying. It was one of GJ’s favorites.
I wasn’t a morning person, but there was something about running into a hunky hockey player before noon that had put a spring in my step. It launched me out of bed and into a full makeup routine—something I hadn’t done since I’d moved to Chance Rapids.
