She supposed that if she was going to go on this trip, she’d better see if there was anywhere within fifty miles of Arnott Airport that actually had availability from tomorrow. The only thing worse than going on this godforsaken snow trip would be going on this godforsaken snow trip and becoming a human popsicle because she hadn’t booked a hotel.
Jaw set in grim determination, she brought up the vacation website again and started searching.
Chapter 2
Girdwood Springs. Long time, no see.
Driving slowly down the main drag, Max had to admit that he was impressed. While Girdwood Springs had been charming when he’d first visited seven years ago, it had been a sleepy, run-down kind of charm.
Now, the town was buzzing with energy. Despite the inhospitable weather and the quickly encroaching darkness, families were strolling happily along the sidewalk, small children bundled up in so many layers of winter clothes that their faces were practically invisible. Fairy lights twinkled in the trees, and an array of cozy little shops that looked like they’d come straight out of a fairy tale beckoned passersby inside with their promise of warmth and good food. Crisp, white snow lay in a blanket over the town, and woodsmoke lingered in the air.
Girdwood Springs was definitely on its way up… and, Max thought, maybe he’d had a tiny part to play in that.
After all, the last time he’d been here, he’d written a review of the local bakery not as average guy Max Holmes, but instead under his more mysterious nom de plume, Aubrey Z. It had been a glowing review – and one hundred percent honest. He reallyhadn’teaten anything as delicious as that honey cake before.
It had left him so impressed that he’d foregone his usual tendency to include both positives and negatives in his reviews, abandoning humor entirely in favor of, well…gushing, if he had to be honest.
But there really had been no negatives he could comment on, and he’d wanted to ensure that Sylvie’s Sweets and Bakery got the attention it deserved. He could only imagine how hard it must be, trying to run a profitable bakery in a tiny town halfway up a mountain. The fact that the food in such a sleepy, remote town was so incredible really was a minor miracle in and of itself.
And now that he’d found himself at a loose end, he’d ended up drifting back this way again.
A kind of restless energy had been building up inside him, and so he’d decided it was time to hit the road once more. In the end, it hadn’t been too difficult to work out where his first stop would be. Normally he would’ve looked for something new, but Girdwood Springs had a strange, almost magnetic pull.
He’d heard that travel writer Luna Hayes was based here now, too. Not to mention that the town’s wildly successful food festival was heading into its fifth year – though it wouldn’t actually be happening for another few months, at the end of spring – and there was a film festival coming up as well. Clearly, the town was a magnet for creative types these days, and he was curious to see how it had changed since the last time he was here.
All of that aside, did he really need any other reason to come back to Girdwood Springs than to revisit the place that had brought him here originally?
Speak of the devil…
That was definitely Sylvie’s Sweets and Bakery he was driving past right now, right where he’d left it.
He was sorely tempted to drop in for a bite to eat… but, it appeared, everyone else in town had had the same idea. The joint was jumping, and a cursory glance along the street told him that there wasn’t a single parking space to be found.
Besides,he told himself reasonably,you need to go and check in to your B&B before it gets dark. Getting lost on a snowy back road in the middle of the night and having to call for help is no way to endear yourself to your hosts.
The less reasonable part of his brain sulked at the lack of cake, but, well, it would do him good to practice a little delayed gratification. Being a food reviewer definitely meant that he sometimes got a little too used to the good things in life.
Luckily, his GPS actually knew where it was going for once, and rather than directing him into a ditch somewhere, it instead steered him unerringly along a charmingly scenic forest road that wended its serene way through the trees. Impossibly soft snowflakes drifted down from the heavens, and the sky up ahead seemed to be warmed by a gentle glow.
Rounding the last corner, he pulled into the parking lot – barely discernable amongst all the snow – and then grabbed his backpack and stepped out of his car, zipping his jacket against the sudden flurry of snowflakes that whipped around him. Not that he needed it – he’d never really felt the cold. But he’d learned early on in life that wandering about in short sleeves in the middle of a snowstorm tended to draw odd looks, and if there was one thing he’d always liked to avoid, it was other people’s attention.
He found the freshly shoveled path and made his way through the trees, eventually finding himself at the source of the glow he’d spotted earlier.
Rising up before him was an enormous Edwardian-style mansion, surrounded by the biggest porch he’d ever seen, and decorated with flourishes like turrets and porthole windows. Itcould have easily looked tacky or over the top, but instead it felt perfectly put together, a welcoming beacon of warmth and calm in the depths of winter. Subdued golden light radiated from its windows, casting its gentle illumination upon the bare trees and inviting him inside.
When he’d done his previous food review tour, he’d stayed in whatever motel had had availability; sometimes he’d even just camped out when the weather had been nice. Food had always been his priority, with accommodation merely providing a means to that end.
But on this occasion, this B&B had been the only place available on short notice. He’d booked it without really thinking about it… but now, he had to admit, it was looking just alittlemore attractive than some dingy motel. Hopefully he wouldn’t get a taste for fancy accommodations on top of his already pretty self-indulgent taste for great food.
Pulling out his phone, he checked the code for the key safe. The owners had sent it through to him last night, saying that they might not be around when he arrived. That suited Max just fine, to be honest – he wasn’t what most people would call a social person, and he was happy to just slip in unnoticed and spend the evening relaxing, especially after such a long drive.
The only thing he was mildly concerned about was that the suite he’d booked shared a kitchen with another room – it wasn’t his choice, but it had been the only one available.
Still, he supposed it could be worse. Hewashere to eat his way through the town, after all – it wasn’t like he actually needed to use the kitchen at all. He’d just leave his kitchen access door locked, and the other guests could go hog wild in there. As long as they kept it quiet and didn’t start any fires, he didn’t care.
“Oh, there you are!”
Max didn’tquitejump out of his skin, but hedidstart very slightly. He’d been so busy fiddling with the tiny numbers on the key safe that he hadn’t even noticed he had company.
