Rose Prairie wasn’t bad to grow up in, just quiet. After a while, that silence can become deafening. Also being in your twenties and living in a small town with the only girls you know being the ones that you watched pick their nose in first grade kind of puts a damper on all things dating. Two years after getting out of this small town, here I am. Right back where I started.
Greyson comes stomping in with the last of the boxes, placing them in the corner. “This is it,” he says while removing his ball cap and pushing his hair back. “Why’d you have to move back again? Not that I’m not happy you’re back,” he clarifies. “I figured you’d want to stay away for good.”
Greyson is my best friend and has been since diapers. He did his own time away from Rose Prairie when he went to our town’s rival college forty-five minutes away. That must have been far enough away for him since he found himself right back where he started after graduating. He’s been helping me unload boxes most of the evening, the winter sun having retreated hours ago. I’ve been told someone lives next door, but no one’s come out to greet me—which is odd in a town like this one.
“City wasn’t for me, remember? The people weren’t as friendly, not to mention there were just too damn many of them.” Coupled with the fact that the small custom furniture business I was hired to went under due to poor management. I could’ve found another job, but the pull back to this place couldn’t be ignored. Swatting at his arm, I add, “Plus, I guess I missed seeing your ugly mug every day.” Greyson just chuckles, walking out of the room back towards the front of the unit. I follow after him, making our way out the front door.
Seeing Greyson off with a wave, I close the door to the moving truck as my phone rings. Fishing it from my pocket, the screen lights up with Aunt Lori’s face plastered across the screen. My mom’s sister is a busybody, but we love her. Answering the call, I hold the phone to my ear. “Hey, Aunt Lo. What’s up?”
“Oh, thank goodness you answered,” she croons. “I have the best news.” Her high pitched voice is telling me that she’s excited about whatever she’s about to share with me.
“Oh really?” Stepping through the front door, I close it behind me before plopping down on the giant brown monstrosity that is my couch.
“Yes,” she squeals. “I just got you a job working on a project for the Christmas Spectacular! Isn’t that just wonderful?”
Knowing my aunt, there’s no way I’m going to talk my way out of this one. Especially when she says it’s for the Christmas Spectacular. I don’t think I know anyone more passionate about our town’s traditions than her. That woman would do whatever it took to keep everything just as it is. Sighing, I respond. “And what is this job, exactly?”
“I’m so glad you asked,” her words are fast and clipped. “The city has hired a new girl to be the event coordinator. And Miss Williams,” she hisses, “has decided to throw everything out! Can you believe that? Anyway, she wants to create custom pieces to replace the classics we all know and love.” She clicks her tongue, chastising whoever this Miss Williams person is. “That’s where you come in. I volunteered you to be the carpenter involved in the project. It’s only fitting to have a founding member’s descendent be the one to make it. And you being back in town and all. It’s kismet,” she gushes.
Shaking my head, I know there’s nothing I can do. She’s completely blocked any arguments I could’ve potentially made. I’ve been cornered. Apparently, I take too long to respond because she’s quickly asking if I’m still there.
I’ve got no choice.
“Yeah, I’m here. When do I start?” Christmas Eve is three weeks away, so it would have to be soon. I’d wanted to spend some time reacquainting myself with small-town life, but it looks like I won’t have time for that now.
“Wonderful,” she cheers. “I told the board you would be available starting as soon as possible. You’ve already gotten settled right?” she asks. Looking around at the furniture and boxes stacked in every direction, I would say otherwise.
“Just got the truck unloaded,” I admit.
“Perfect timing then! I told Miss Williams that you would meet her at the warehouse tomorrow morning. You know the one? That large, green metal building off Main Street. Back towards Pinehurst?”
“Yeah, I know it.” My free hand is squeezing the bridge of my nose, eyes squinting.
“Don’t be late. And be sure to keep an eye out for that girl. I don’t trust her.”
Putting on my best-placating tone, I respond. “Yes ma’am.”
Well, looks like my December is about to be all booked up.
***
Bright and early the next morning—against my will—I arrive at the warehouse, coffee in hand. Knowing my aunt, she most likely appointed me as the man for the job without consulting anyone else, so I stopped by the coffee and book shop Tall, Dark, and Coffee and picked up some mochas—because everyone loves a mocha right? If I’m going to be working with Miss Williams for the next three weeks, I might as well try to make a good impression.
She’s not here yet, so let the waiting game commence. It’s not long before a white sedan pulls in next to my beat up truck. Something about it looks familiar, but nothing springs to mind. I’m sure it’ll hit me the minute I stop trying to place it.
Huffing a breath, I grab the hot drinks and step out of the truck.Here we go.
Hearing a door click, I walk around the parked car just as Miss Williams climbs out.Whoa. She’s a stunner.The woman scowling at me is quite possibly one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in my life. And the way her eyes rake up and down my body with a hint of animosity has me grinning like a fool.
I love a challenge.
“Let me guess,” she animatedly places her finger on her chin as she pretends to think, “you’re Lori Haverford’s nephew. The carpenter?”
Holy hell, I love a girl with spunk.
“The one and only,” I reply bright and cheery—somehow knowing this will annoy her—and my smile widens. “Levi’s the name. If you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.” Her quick response has me biting off a chuckle. She either really hates me or isn’t a morning person. I guess she could be both.And wouldn’t I like to find out.“I’m Samantha, but you can call me Sammie. I hope you know what you’re doing because I’m not playing around here.”
