***
This trip wasn’t going the way Jonah had hoped. Confronting Lauren had been a miscalculation—not that it was actually a decision. The anxiety of the past few weeks had swelled into irritation and he just snapped.
Bad idea. Lauren wouldn’t be pushed into anything, certainly not a relationship. She had to do everything herself—the decisions, the driving, even the navigation apparently.
Fine, he’d just sit here like an idiot. Just as he had for the past two hours and fifty-seven minutes of this trip. Thank God they were almost to their destination located in a residential area outside a tiny town he’d never been to. The area’s amenities included only an old-time gas station, an antique shop, and a pizza place.
Lauren slowed in front of a two-story, white-sided home and backed into the driveway. Once past the house, a big outbuilding came into view. Above the door a beautifully painted sign readSanta’s Workshop.
After she parked they exited the truck, and when they approached the door Jonah ushered her in first. A bell tinkled upon their entry.
He stepped onto the pristine cement floor and took in the space, which was filled with unpainted wooden cutouts: Frosty the Snowman, sleighs, Santa, nativities, snowflakes. The smells of sawdust and paint mingled in the air.
A gray-haired woman, clothing splotched with paint, emerged from a room in the back. She looked all of five feet and a hundred pounds. Crow’s-feet gathered at the corners of her eyes as she smiled. “Hello! I’m Clara. How can I help you?”
“Hello, I’m Lauren and this is Jonah. We’re here to pick up Tammy Landry’s order for the Pinehaven Resort.”
The woman’s face fell. “Oh dear. I’m just finishing those up now.”
“We don’t mind waiting,” Jonah said.
“Well, I’m afraid they won’t be fit for travel till tomorrow. They have to dry, you know, or they’ll get all messed up in transit. I could’ve sworn I told Tammy tomorrow.”
Jonah glanced at Lauren, taking in her wilted smile. “There must’ve been a misunderstanding.”
“We’ve driven three hours,” Lauren said. “Maybe you have a rack or something we could use to protect them?”
“I’m afraid not. You wouldn’t want road dust and whatnot settling into the finish anyway. I’m so sorry for the trouble.”
He could see Lauren’s wheels spinning for ideas and coming up blank. See her shoulders going rigid at the thought of more time with him.
“Thank you, Clara,” he said. “We’ll come back tomorrow. Will morning be suitable?”
“Yes, of course. Come by any time after nine. Again, I’m so sorry about the mix-up, but I think you’ll be very happy with the pieces.”
“I’m sure we will. We’ll see you in the morning.” He ushered Lauren outside.
As soon as the door closed, she turned a glare on him. “Are you gonna tell me this was a mistake? Because I’m not buying it.”
“I have no idea, but if it wasn’t, I had nothing to do with it.”
She crossed her arms, steam practically rolling off her flesh. “I’m not doing this all over again in the morning.”
“Of course not. We’ll find a hotel and stay the night.”
She snorted. “I didn’t exactly spot a Holiday Inn on the way into town.”
“We’ll find something nearby. We’re not making that drive again.” He was already tapping away on his phone. There was service, but it was very slow.
Lauren strode toward the truck and got in, shutting the door with more force than necessary, because, yes, his mom was no doubt up to her tricks. Sometimes she interfered, but her heart was in the right place. At the moment he wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or resentful for the extra time with Lauren—he was leaning toward resentful.
The map finally opened, showing nothing in a twenty-mile radius except for a place called the Timber Ridge Motel. He clicked on thelone photo as he headed toward the truck and grimaced. Beggars and choosers...
He put on a good face as he got in the truck. “Good news. There’s a place four miles away. It appears they have vacancies.” Mainly because, who’d want to stay there?
Scowl in place, she started the truck.
“Go north out of the drive.”
