Snowed In (3 page)

Chapter 6

Maureen didn't burn the sweatpants, but she did throw them in the back of her closet. She couldn't have burned them if she wanted to because her new apartment didn't have a fireplace. A co-worker's cousin had rented it to her. She knew she should be grateful for finding something on such short notice, but it was drafty and bland. It didn't help that almost all of her worldly possessions (i.e., books) were in boxes. Normally she was a very organized packer, labeling each box by the room it would go in, but she'd left Dave's in such a hurry that she could only hope she hadn't forgotten anything.

On the way home from the grocery store—the one she would never cry in again—she thought about her apartment full of boxes, and how she had only dug out enough clothes for work, and how she only had four hours to open every box and hope that her cute date clothes were not buried at the bottom of a box of paperbacks.

Then she made a quick right to get on the highway and headed out to the mall.

One pair of butt-hugging jeans, a scoop-neck sweater, an impulse buy in the lingerie department, and she was ready for the god. Well, the clothes, the lingerie, some cheap but fabulous dangly earrings, a new tube of mascara and she was ready for the god.

A date. She hadn't let herself think about it too much as she got dressed. If she thought about it, she would have reconsidered—really, she was in no position to be going on a date, emotionally or otherwise. It had only been two weeks since Dave had dumped her. But if she didn't get out there she'd never, well, purge the memory of Dave. And if a promise to a funny-looking stranger in a grocery store wasn't sacred, what was?

She could picture her new friend Billie's look of horror as she tugged on her snow boots and squashed her curls with a knit hat, completely ruining the Casual Sex Kitten look she was going for. But Gavin's weatherman was right, snow was predicted. And besides, he seemed to like her well enough in her spinster sweats; surely a little practical weather gear wouldn't turn him off. She knotted a scarf around her neck and headed out the door.

 

 

Gavin watched her pull into the little parking lot behind the Cold Spot, right next to his truck. He'd been waiting outside for her, and the tips of his ears felt like they were going to freeze off. But from the moment she'd accepted his date—or he'd accepted hers—he couldn't stop thinking about her, about her smile, and her quick wit, and her lush body pressed against his . . .

The cold air was not doing enough to dampen his lust. Pippa had given him hell the whole ride home, teasing him for chasing after strange women in the parking lot like a dog in heat, then chastising him for not introducing her. He hadn't told her about his previous experience with Maureen O'Connell, former mystery woman. Pippa had enough to worry about with her own romantic evening, though, so he could keep the memories to himself.

He was in such a good mood about it that he sent the new guy home early. Then it was just him in the big old house, puttering around the office, pretending to check his email, killing time until six o'clock. He had tried on every damn shirt in his closet before he realized with disgust that he was nervous. Nervous! Gavin Fraser was not nervous around women! In the end, he just picked up the nearest shirt, a button-down flannel, tugged on his boots, and left the house.

He arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes early.

Sitting alone in his warm car gave him too much time and space to reminisce about Maureen O'Connell's lush little sweatpants, so out he went. He was freezing. And he was still horny.

“Am I late?” she asked as she approached. She looked different without the tear smudges. Her eyes were bright and clear, and the green knit cap she wore pushed her curls down to frame her face. She was adorable. The jeans weren't bad either. A definite improvement over the sweatpants.

And he had never been so turned on by snow boots in his life.

“No, you're fine. You look nice.”

“You look freezing. Don't you have a hat?”

“I like to feel the cold air.” Yeah right. He took a deep breath to make it a little more convincing. “Makes me feel like a man.”

She laughed, her smile reaching up to crinkle the corners of her eyes. She turned away from him toward the nearly empty street and took her own deep breath. “It is nice. You can smell the storm in the air.”

Gavin loved that smell. He took another deep breath and this time the raw smell of impending weather mixed with the sweet, herby sent of her shampoo.

“But it's freezing out here,” she said, turning back to him.

“After you,” he said, gallantly holding the door open for her.

She arched an eyebrow at him, but went in.
The jeans are definitely an improvement
, he thought as he followed her inside.

The Cold Spot was nearly empty, just a few regulars having one last hurrah at the bar before the shoveling they would all have to do in the morning. Gavin had called the owner, Brick (so named because he was solid and perpetually red-faced), to ask him for the Date Night Special. Brick had laughed in his ear, saying he didn't remember that being on the menu. Nonetheless, he was there to greet them at the door.

“Ah, Mr. Fraser, how nice to see you again.” The burly man had a thick Kentucky drawl and a barely concealed smirk. “May I show y'all to your table?”

“Sure. Brick, this is Maureen, Maureen, Brick. Brick owns this place.”

“It will be a pleasure to serve you the finest greasy food in all of Kentucky.”

“Thanks,” Maureen said, smiling, as she followed Brick to their table.

“Would you care to see our wine list?” Brick said, passing them each a paper menu.

“Oh, I'll just have a beer, please,” Maureen said, shrugging out of her coat. “Whatever's on tap.”

“Excellent choice, mademoiselle. And for you, good sir?”

Gavin knew when his friend was yanking his chain, as he liked to say. “Knock it off, Brick. Since when do you have a wine list?”

“I think there's a bottle of red sitting on a shelf somewhere in the back. It's older than the hills, but it's probably still good.”

“Beer, thanks.”

Brick bowed deeply, which was pretty impressive considering his beer gut, and ambled off to the bar, whistling.

“Wow, I've been here before but I've never gotten service like this. You must be really important, huh?”

Cute and sarcastic. It almost made the good-natured jeers he was getting from his friends Luke and Chase at the bar worth it.

Gavin cleared his throat. “I went to high school with Brick's son. I thought I could count on a friend to do me a favor,” he shouted toward the bar where Brick was pouring their beers. “Are you impressed?” he asked her.

She smiled at him. “I'll only be impressed if you can swing extra steak fries.”

“Done.”

Gavin had the feeling they were smiling at each other like dopes, but he didn't care. The low pub lighting played off her curls and made her skin glow. He may have broken eye contact for a second to admire the close fit of her sweater, but that was just because he didn't want to intimidate her with too much deep gazing.

Maureen looked down at her menu. “What I really want is a burger and fries, but I kind of think I should test your influence and have the chef whip up something extraordinary for us,” she said, waving her hands for emphasis.

“I'm never going to live this down, am I?”

“Never. Sorry.”

“You're not sorry at all.”

“You're right. But I will let you off the hook and just order a burger. I'm still holding you to that promise of extra fries,” she said, pointing a stern finger in his face.

They placed their orders and sat in silence, sipping their beers. Just as it was about to get awkward, Maureen said, “So you grew up here?”

“Yeah. Hollow Bend, born and bred.”

“You've never lived anywhere else?”

“I went to college in Pennsylvania, but I came back here to open my business.”

“Is your family still here?”

“Nope. No family.”

“How can you have no family? You have to have come from somewhere.”

He really didn't want to get maudlin on the first date, but it would be weirder if he didn't tell her. It wasn't a secret, anyway. “My parents died when I was in high school. Car accident.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine . . . that's terrible.” Her hand went to her throat and her eyes shone with sympathy, but she didn't press him.

“It was a long time ago.” He waved it off, in spite of the pang in his gut. It
had
been a long time ago. On the last anniversary of the accident, he'd realized that he had now been alive without them longer than he had with them.

But that was definitely not a first date conversation. It might not be an ever conversation. He imagined being close enough to Maureen to share all of his secret hurts and dreams.

And he was getting way ahead of himself. “So, what brought you to Hollow Bend? Most people move here because they were born here.” Or fell in love here, he thought, thinking of Keith's wife, Mal.

“My job. I work at the library.”

His beer seemed to go down the wrong way. “You're a librarian?” he sputtered.

“Yes. Why is that so funny?”

“It's just, I don't know, you don't have a bun and glasses.”

“Ugh. If you make a spinster librarian joke . . .”

“No! I mean, you're a hot librarian, clearly, but I go to the Hollow Bend Library. The librarians there
are
old ladies with buns and glasses.”

“When was the last time you were in there? One of the old ladies retired a few years ago, and I took her place.”

“I was there last week. I swear!” he added when she threw him a skeptical glance. “I returned some CDs for my neighbor and I checked out the new Jack Reacher book. I'll show you my card.”

“Okay! Okay, fine, I believe you. I guess it was just fate for our paths never to cross.”

“Or maybe it was fate for our paths to cross in a more spectacular way than across the reference desk.”

“Oh, yeah, real spectacular. With me blubbering in the grocery store.”

“I seem to remember you leaving with a smile,” he said, pleased when he saw the blush creep down from her cheeks to her neck.

She was saved by the arrival of their food. True to Gavin's promise, Brick had piled her plate with extra steak fries, so many that they covered her burger. She clapped her hands in glee. Gavin reached across to take one, but she slapped his hand away. “Eat your own fries!”

He loved a woman who could enjoy junk food.

They ate and drank and made small talk. He told her about his consulting business, how working in a big city gave him hives, and when he had enough contacts to work remotely, he'd come back home to open his own firm. He'd even hired a new guy who was working out pretty well. She asked a lot of questions about his work, not one of which, he was pleased to hear, was “what does business consulting
mean
?” He asked her what she was reading and pretended to know all of the authors even though he only recognized a few. He told her about the old Victorian house he had converted into his living/work space; she told him about her crappy new apartment.

That got them dangerously close to the whole reason for her crying jag, so he steered them away. “Another beer?”

“No, I'm stuffed. And two is my limit if I'm driving.”

“I could drive you home,” he said as innocently as possible.

She looked him dead in the eye and he felt the heat rise from his core. He knew she felt it too, but she looked away, shaking her head. “I have to work in the morning.”

“Tomorrow's going to be a snow day.”

“How do you know? It hasn't even started snowing!”

“It wasn't snowing when we came in, but that was—” He glanced at his watch. “Holy shit.”

“What?”

“It's ten o'clock.”

“We've been here for four hours!”

Brick sidled up to the table. “Is that it or can I finally go home?”

“I'm so sorry,” Maureen said in a rush. “I had no idea—”

“Don't worry about it, sweetheart. We've had a fine time eavesdropping on you two. Just make sure you get home safe. On the house, Fraser,” he said to Gavin with a wink.

“Thanks, man.”

“Remember that when you send the bill for my new business plan. I'm trying to put a patio out back,” he explained to Maureen. “Music in the summer. Your boy here is much better at bureaucratic nonsense than I am.”

It pleased Gavin that Maureen gave him a smile for that, but he didn't want Brick breaking out his old football trophies. Or his prom picture. “Okay, we're going. Thanks for dinner.”

“It was delicious. And it was great to meet you.”

“Don't be a stranger, you two. Get home safe.”

 

 

As she bundled herself into her coat and hat, Maureen was trying to remember when she'd had a better first date. If only her online dates had gone this well, she wouldn't have wasted so much time with . . . but she wasn't thinking about that guy, she admonished herself. Gavin was perfect—he was charming, he asked thoughtful questions and listened to her answers, and he knew how to get her extra steak fries. And he was gorgeous.

So why, when he offered to drive her home, did she clam up and forget her promise to the strange stranger?

Because she was a chicken shit, she thought, as she ducked past him out of the restaurant. She was chicken shit, and he was perfect. He was funny and smart and he smelled good and . . . all of her thoughts were sucked out of her brain as a blast of cold wind hit her in the face. Not just wind. Also snow. A lot of snow.