“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.”
The redhead grinned, his freckled nose crinkling as his fingers clicked the register keys. “Very wise. Where are you staying? I only ask because my mom runs a cleaning business, and she takes care of most of the rentals.”
“It belongs to a friend of mine, but he’s never rented it. He probably should, though. It’s on Red Oak…I think.”
“Ooh! The football house! Yep, Mom cleans that one. I’ve been inside…very nice,” he gushed, then did that wrinkled-nose thing again. “That sounded creepy, huh? I swear, I’m normal…ish. I’m Davey, by the way.”
“Silas.”
Davey beamed. “Hang tight, Silas. I’ll grab your drinks.”
He zipped away, his hips swaying seductively as he filled the to-go cups. Davey had a nice ass and?—
Whoa.
I blinked, surprised that I’d let my guard down for even a fraction of a moment.No staring at hot guys. Retired or not, that was a fucking rule.
I tapped my credit card and returned it to my wallet while the barista bagged my coffee beans and pastries. “Thanks.”
“Let me get a tray for your drinks.”
“That’s okay. They’ll keep my hands warm.”
“Smart thinking. Be careful out there, and if you need anything, call Cooper. He’s your neighbor on your”—Davey swiveled his slim hips sideways and wiggled the arm closest to me—“right. He’s a great guy.”
“And Coop’s a lot less chatty than Davey here,” the woman behind me in line piped in. “C’mon, slowpoke. Blizzard alert, blizzard alert.”
I chuckled at the middle-aged woman’s good-natured razzing, thanked Davey, and moved to the door.
A bracing gust of cold wind nearly knocked me off my ass the second it opened. I shivered in my Canada Goose jacket and took a fortifying sip of really good coffee.
The weather sucked, but coffee was life, so things were already looking up.
I crossed to the opposite side of Main Street, guzzling my java like a champ. I finished one cup and dumped it in the bin, then started on the croissants, chomping away as I took in the scenery: two boutiques, a photo lab with dozens of high school football pics on display, and an ice cream parlor with a sign taped to the door that read, “See you next spring, Wood Hollow!”
Bake with Bea Bakery’s window featured a variety of cakes, cupcakes, cookies, and pies on white stands. Next door was a drugstore called Foxy’s that had Target or Walmart aspirations with racks of nail polishes and moisturizers, jumbo bags of M&M’s and a display of brooms and mops gave “something for everyone” vibes.
The storefronts were appealing enough, but there was no one shopping. Most of the town had probably gotten the weather memo and opted to stay home. I was ready to hunker down too. I had no idea what I was going to do all day. Read a book? Watch a fuckton of movies? Val did have a home gym, thank fuck. I could figure it out after I ordered a taxi and bought some groceries.
I called the number Cooper had given me for Jed the taximan and got his answering machine. I left a message, tucked my cell into my pocket, and picked up my pace.
The walk back to the market was a mini nightmare. My sneakers didn’t stand a chance. I could barely feel my toes, and my second coffee was long gone. Long story short, I was cold, uncomfortable, and I had to pee.
Wood Hollow Market had a log cabin exterior that complemented the mill, which was located off Main, but within a snowball’s throw of the store’s parking lot with a row of snow-laden evergreens in between.
I hurried inside, sighing with relief at the marked difference in temperature as I grabbed a cart. I didn’t need a lot of groceries, just some basics to get through the storm—milk, eggs, butter, cereal, bread, fruit, oatmeal, chicken, two frozen pizzas, and some canned soup. And cookies.
