He was quiet for a long moment, and I could practically see him weighing his words carefully.
“My family sees potential here,” he said finally. “We’re always looking for investment opportunities, and I wanted to see the area with my own eyes, get some insight into what this place is really about.”
Investment opportunities. The words hit me like a lightning bolt. I felt my heart start racing with something that felt dangerously close to hope.
“Investments?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual even though my pulse was pounding. “Here? At the lodge? In town?”
He hesitated for just a moment before nodding. “Yes.”
The weight that had been sitting on my chest for months suddenly lifted, replaced by a giddy sense of possibility that made me want to laugh out loud. Investment. Real, actual investment from people with the kind of money that could make a difference.
Maybe Kent Bancroft really was the Christmas miracle that Northwood had been waiting for.
CHAPTER 12
KENT
When Sylvie’s lunch break rolled around, she appeared at my side with a pair of shovels and an expression that suggested we were about to embark on some kind of Arctic expedition.
I was just a little concerned. “What’s this about?”
“Ready to dig your fancy car out of the snow?” she asked, though it sounded more like a statement than a question.
“I thought you called a tow truck?”
She snorted. “Why would I call a tow truck for your car?”
“Because I didn’t have cell service.”
“Then we should probably go dig it out,” she said. “I’ve got a chain.”
“You? You’re going to pull it out?”
She shrugged. “If I need to.”
My expression of shock made her laugh.
“Trust me, city boy, you are not the first person to get stuck. We grew up pulling each other out of ditches. It’s not a big deal.”
I was going to marry her.
What?
What the fuck was that?
I shook my head and dislodged the thought.
The drive back to where I had abandoned my rental car was oddly comfortable. Sylvie hummed along to whatever Christmas song was playing on her truck’s ancient radio.
“You think it will still be there?” I asked. “Tires and all.”
She laughed. “You really do know nothing about the country, do you?”
I wasn’t sure what that meant. “No, I suppose I don’t.”
“No one is going to take the wheels off your fancy little car. Most people don’t even lock their doors. A lot of us leave our keys in our cars.”
“And that’s just stupid,” I muttered.
