1. Hallie

CHAPTER 1

HALLIE

“C ome on, June, it's not like I'm asking you to help me rob a bank or stave off a zombie apocalypse. I just want the smallest piece of information.” I give my best friend a pleading smile as I lean forward, resting my elbows on the dispatch desk.

She bites her lip. I know her. That means she's considering my request. “Isaac will legit kill me if he finds out I told you where Lennox Steele is staying in Frozen Heights.”

“But he won’t find out. Not if you keep your mouth shut.” I waggle my eyebrows hopefully.

“You know how hard it is for me to keep anything from him,” she groans.

“Yeah, because he threatens you with a spanking, and you cave,” I say, with a laugh. “And then he spanks you anyway.”

“Hallie!” she shrieks, her cheeks turning pink.

“Hey, you think I like knowing that about my boss?” Not just my boss: Sheriff Quinn and I have known each other since I was a baby. Ugh. I shudder. TMI.

I should mention that tracking down Lennox Steele—the legendary rock star who's been off the radar for years now—isn’t important to me personally. But getting his autograph would mean the world to my little sister, his biggest fan. And Ciara's been through a lot this year with her health issues.

So if an autograph makes her smile…? It's worth every risk.

“Okay, fine,” Juniper says at last. “But only because Ciara's my favorite kid in Deepwood, aside from my own. And you better believe I want to hear that her face lit up brighter than the tree when she opens that present on Christmas morning.” She pokes a finger in my chest. “ And if my husband finds out, I'll say you blackmailed me, and there’ll be hell to pay.” She’s only half-joking. Sheriff Quinn has an overprotective streak, and he'd never let either of us out of his sight if he knew what we were up to.

“Eee! Thank you. Love you, Juney.” I tackle her and give her a big kiss on the cheek.

She giggles and extricates herself, grabbing my phone off the desk. “Just be careful,” she says, typing in Lennox’s cabin address. “The weather forecast isn't looking great, and you know how unpredictable these mountain storms can be.” Her blue eyes are serious. “And I hope you remember that Lennox Steele has a reputation for being an asshole...” She trails off, not needing to enumerate the various tales of his stints in rehab and preference for privacy.

“Yes. And I appreciate your concern, but I've got this. Lennox might be a bit of a grouch, but I bet he can't resist a redhead in a Sheriff’s Department polo and tactical pants.” I strike a sultry pose for her.

Juniper chuckles, shaking her head. “Let’s hope you're right. Please, please don't do anything stupid and make me regret letting you go alone.”

“You’ve got two little ones that need their mama safe at home. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself. I promise to be extra careful.”

She crosses her arms. “Yeah. I’ve heard that before.”

“But I mean it this time,” I reply with a smirk. She rolls her eyes.

I zip up my coat, give her another hug and final wave goodbye, and set off for the remote peaks of Frozen Heights. As I travel up the mountainside, the air grows colder even inside my heated Jeep, and the wind howls, almost as if the mountains themselves are warning me of the challenges ahead.

But ultimately the ride to the base of Frozen Heights is uneventful, and I make good time.

An hour later, after navigating steep inclines and dense forests on either side of the road, I finally catch sight of my destination: a modern luxury cabin nestled among the towering snow-covered pines, smoke curling from the chimney. It looks like the most inviting place in the world right now, but I know better than to expect a warm welcome.

I park and trudge through the snow toward the front. My body warms with each step, the physical effort required nothing when I imagine Ciara's eyes sparkling with joy when she opens the signed photograph from her idol.

I ring the fancy doorbell and knock on the massive door, then wait.

No response.

I repeat it all again, this time calling out, “Hello? Mr. Steele? I’m here with the Sheriff’s Department.” It’s not remotely official business, but I figure that could help stir some urgency.

Still nothing.

“Great. He's either not home or ignoring me,” I mumble to myself, frustrated. “Guess it's time for Plan B.”

I start making my way around the house, getting as close as I can to peek in the windows. I don’t see anyone on the first floor. But it would be great to check the second floor, too. I scan the area and spot a tall, thick pine tree a few feet from the cabin.

Perfect.

I approach the tree and begin climbing. The height will give me a better view of the cabin and, hopefully, proof he’s home and a chance to catch his attention.

As I climb, the wind picks up and the snow starts falling even more thickly. Hmm. Climbing trees was a lot easier when I was a little kid. At 24, I’m not quite as spry, or unbreakable. This might be one of those stupid things Juniper warned me not to do. But eventually I reach a suitable branch and perch there, feeling quite proud of myself.

The curtains are open, and I can see almost the entirety of the top floor.

That’s when Lennox Steele walks right into my view.

Stark. Flipping. Naked.

Holy shit.

The man is a work of art…and the chef’s kiss of rugged sex appeal.

He’s got to be in his late forties now, but my god, his body is still as chiseled as that of a man half his age. Broad shoulders, bulky pecs, just the right amount of hair trailing down his chest, his abs, and dropping between that muscled “V”.

As if that hasn’t scrambled my brain enough, my gaze zeroes in on his enormous…umm…

Wow. Is he ever blessed .

His hair is wet, like he’s just come from the shower.

Then he stretches.

It’s a full-body stretch that flexes all his delicious muscles, putting everything on display. Oh, lord!

Suddenly I’m burning up despite the blizzard. I actually have to bite my lip to stop from gasping.

“Hallie, focus,” I mutter, closing my eyes for a moment. “You're here for Ciara, not to stare at a naked and very well-hung rock star.”

Then I sneak another peek. I mean, I’m only human.

He’s now sitting on his bed holding a guitar, his long, skilled fingers plucking the strings with a strange expression on his face…part passion, part frustration. He sings—and though I can’t actually hear him, I can imagine his voice in my head—rough, raw, and soulful. I'm captivated. I can understand why Ciara adores him.

A snapping sound jolts me back to reality.

Oh no…

The branch I’m sitting on snaps again, this time giving way, and suddenly I'm falling straight down into—thankfully—a mound of snow below. Still, the impact knocks the wind out of me, and I lie there, temporarily stunned.

“Ow, that's gonna leave a mark,” I groan, assessing the situation. Slowly, I lift my head, chilled to the bone, gingerly trying to gauge the damage. I’m sore, and probably bruised, but it doesn’t feel like anything’s sprained or broken.

Still, if I don’t get back to my Jeep soon, I’m going to freeze to death.

As I prepare to sit up, I’m lifted up almost effortlessly by a strong pair of arms.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” a deep, rumbling voice says near me. I find myself staring up into the most intense gray eyes I've ever seen. His voice is gravelly, like his vocal cords have been roughed up by sandpaper, and his lips are pressed into a hard line. It's him . Lennox Steele. Up close and personal.

“Well?” he adds impatiently when I don’t answer right away. Okay, he’s kinda grumpy.

“I...um...” I stutter, my brain scrambling for an excuse. “I... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... I was...” My face heats up as I trail off, cursing my fumbling words under his piercing gaze. I've seen a lot of things in my day—crazy car accidents, bear attacks, you name it—but nothing has left me as tongue-tied as this man's smoldering eyes.

“We don’t have all day, honey. We’ll freeze our asses off out here. Are you okay to stand?”

I nod. “You’re Lennox Steele,” I blurt, my mind still a jumble.

“Yeah. And who are you?” He hauls me to my feet, and I realize he’s now wearing sweats and a huge parka with a fur-lined hood.

“I-I’m Hallie Owens,” I manage to say. Who knew I’d get so starstruck?

“Can you walk?”

I nod again. Words are incredibly difficult to find when this man is next to me.

“Then let’s get our butts inside. I can’t feel my goddamn face,” he snaps, wrapping his arm around me and leading me through the storm.

When we make it into the cabin, he removes his parka and boots, then helps me with my coat.

“Sheriff’s Department?” he asks, glancing down at the logo on my polo shirt. “Go sit by the fire and grab a blanket from the sofa. Warm yourself up,” he orders. “Then tell me what’s going on, Ms. Owens.”

“Call me Hallie,” I say, doing as I’m told.

The fireplace is massive, the sofa something straight out of a design magazine. I sit and remove my boots and wet socks as he leaves the room.

Lennox returns with two coffees and hands one to me. Our fingers brush, sending shivers through me that have nothing to do with the residual cold from the snow.

He sits next to me in a T-shirt and sweatpants, looking like a dream.

Except for that stupid scowl on his face.

“Let’s hear it, Hallie,” he says sternly, and my name in that rough voice sends pools of heat straight to my core, despite his gruff tone. “What is someone from the Sheriff’s Department doing out here?”

I take a deep breath, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “I need your autograph.”

If I thought he was scowling before, now he’s livid.

“You risked your life, falling from a fucking tree in the middle of a blizzard, for an autograph ?”

“Yes, but?—”

“Unbelievable,” he scoffs, looking away. “Okay, once you get warmed up and finish your coffee, you need to leave. I should report you to the Sheriff himself. He gave me his word no one would know I was even here.”

“Please don’t, Mr. Steele,” I begin, my heart sinking. “He knows nothing of this. I found out on my own. I can be pretty ingenious when I want something.”

“So, stalking then?” he supplies dryly.

“Not stalking…” One of his dark eyebrows quirks up skeptically. “Not completely .” I sit up straighter. Crap. This is not how I envisioned this meeting would go, but I'm not one to back down easily. “I swear, if you want me to leave empty-handed, I will. But I had to try. The autograph’s not for me, it’s for my little sister, Ciara. She’s your biggest fan. She has JIA—chronic arthritis—and she’s had a really shitty year. I heard you were in town, and I guess I hoped I could make her Christmas special with an autograph from her idol.”

A flash of different emotions—surprise, wariness, maybe mixed with a smidge of sympathy—crosses Lennox’s rugged features. He considers my words, his gruff exterior softening for a moment. “I’m sorry she’s had a rough year,” he murmurs quietly. “Sure. I'll sign something for your sister. But then you go on your way.”

Relief washes over me. “Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Steele! Ciara’s going to flip?—”

He waves me off. “Call me Lennox. Mr. Steele sounds like some vintage superhero, and I’m anything but that.”

I smile as he gets up to leave the room. “Back in a minute.”

While he’s gone, I look around curiously. The interior of the cabin is modern and luxurious, but it’s clearly a rental. The artwork on the walls is bland without any hint of personality. The only clue that a musician is staying here is the array of guitars—both acoustic and electric—scattered about, some music manuscript paper on chairs and side tables, and a keyboard set up so that when you play you face the huge floor-to-ceiling windows near the back of the house overlooking the snow-covered mountainside.

…The mountainside that is currently getting pummeled with snow. It’s piling up along the side of the house and the sky is crazy dark. Oh man. How am I going to get home in that ?

I’m taking a nervous sip of my coffee when Lennox returns with an old vinyl album of his and a pen.

He sits down next to me on the couch, tucking a long leg underneath him. “How do you spell your sister’s name?”

“C-i-a-r-a,” I say, as he scribbles something on the cover. Then he hands it to me.

My heart throbs as I take it. I recognize it as his debut album, Ciara’s favorite. “She’ll love it,” I murmur, running my fingers over the cover. “This will make her Christmas. Thank you again.” I look up to see him studying me with intense eyes.

“Even though I’m not condoning your methods, you took a risk for someone you love and I respect that. Not many people would have braved these conditions, even if it was for a very good cause.” He pauses. “Fame has taught me that kindness from others usually comes with a price.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and bitter. This man who once had the world at his feet now seems defeated, a mere shadow of the icon he once was. But I think I still see a hint of the fire that burned so brightly before in his smoldering eyes.

“That’s too bad. I know I’d do anything for my family and friends. And as a proud member of the Sheriff’s Department, I risk a lot for other people…for nothing in return.”

He doesn’t answer, so I get ready to leave. I know I'm in danger of overstaying my welcome any second.

Just then, a gust of wind slams into the cabin.

We both jump and turn to look out the windows.

Everything is white. The sky, the trees, the ground. You can barely make out the shapes of anything.

“I made gumbo,” he grunts, turning back to me. “You might as well grab a bowl for dinner. Doesn’t look like you’re going anywhere for a while.”