4. Arielle

four

Arielle

I wiggle my toes and pull the scratchy comforter tighter around my neck, but it does nothing to warm me. “Christian,” I hiss over the narrow aisle between our queen beds. “Did you turn the air conditioner on?” It’s pitch dark in the hotel room, but I angle my gaze toward Christian’s heavy breathing.

When he doesn’t reply because he’s still sound asleep, I take my spare pillow and whip it toward him, the way a sister should smack her annoying big brother. “Christian,” I say, raising my voice as my eyes slowly adjust to the darkness.

“Whoa, what?” He startles awake.

“Did you turn the air on?” I wrap my blanket even tighter around me, but shivers erupt from my extremities. It’s absolutely freezing, and these thin hotel blankets don’t hold any warmth.

“Why, yes, I keep the air on full blast in January in New England because I love to bleed money.” He pauses for a beat before adding, “The clock isn’t glowing. I would guess the power went out.”

“Ah, great,” I mumble under my breath and reach for my phone, which I had set on the nightstand. I click the power button, relieved to see a tiny flash of light and use it to guide me to my suitcase for a sweatshirt. “I didn’t pack for a power outage.” I shiver as I also find my winter beanie, and yank it on, covering the bottoms of my ears. I don’t stop dressing until after I’ve slipped on my down winter coat—it’s that cold in here.

“I’m sure it will be on shortly,” Christian speaks through a yawn.

My phone confirms it’s almost time to start the day. “It’s after six. The sun should come up soon. That might help warm things up a little.” I hustle back to my bed, crawl under the blankets, and stare toward the window.

“You should try having high blood pressure like me. Then you’ll never be bothered by the cold.” Christian’s grumble is muffled by the pillow he’s pulled over his head to more than likely tune me out.

“Wait a second.” My head springs back from an image that flashes in my brain. “Do you remember when we checked into the lodge last night? The lobby had that huge stone fireplace. Do you think we should sit downstairs until the power comes back on?”

Christian’s sleepy grumble is barely audible. “I mean, it doesn’t make sense to just lie in bed to relax.”

“Right.” I ignore his sarcasm and spring to my feet. “It’s too cold in here, even under the blankets. They had those big leather couches downstairs. It’s perfect.” I’m already slipping on my Uggs when I toss a glance over my shoulder. He hasn’t moved from his spot in bed. “Let’s hurry before someone else gets the same idea and takes our spot.” I yank on the doorknob and prompt the door open with my foot. “Last one down has to buy the other person breakfast.”

“No power means nobody will get breakfast.” Christian drops one foot to the carpet and does a falling motion to get out of bed. It’s ungraceful and seems a bit harsh, but Christian has a dramatic way of doing most things. He whisks his phone off the nightstand and shuffles his feet forward, mumbling through another yawn, “Besides, I need to get dressed.” He takes a minute to swap his shorts for pants, slips on a jacket, and then loafers before he stares at me for the first time this morning. “Happy now?” he grumbles.

“Not until we get our spot.” I rush him out the door. We follow the dark hall, guided only by the light on my cell phone, as it seems the rest of the hotel customers are still asleep. It might be my optimistic imagination, but I feel the temperature increase as we get closer to the lobby.

“I guess the interstate is closed.” Christian reads a notification on his phone. “We won’t be going home today.”

I’m about to let out a groan but the lobby comes into view and the permeating warmth muffles my annoyance. The massive stone fireplace doesn’t disappoint with a soft glowing fire to welcome me. I smile slyly at the desk attendant as I beeline to the couch in front of the fireplace. “Our room is so cold, I couldn’t sleep,” I say and plop down, scooting my body all the way to the armrest closest to the flame.

“The power has been out for several hours already,” he reports in a monotone voice. “The forecast said it’s just a pause in the snow, as it’s supposed to dump more later this morning.”

“Oh, look. That’s Graham from The Bookshelf going in to work.” Christian uses his index finger to point out the window while he scratches his belly with his other hand. Happy to not watch him scratch, I willingly follow his gesture.

Sure enough, Graham’s unlocking the bookstore. “I guess this city never shuts down.”

“I guess not.” Christian jerks his head to the exit as his feet move toward it. “We might as well head over too and start our first day.”

“Can you hear yourself talking right now?” I stumble to my feet, hating to leave the warm haze from the fire. “You are obsessed with money.” I wave my hand over his body. “You haven’t even showered for the day, nor have I.”

“I’m not going to shower without hot water. Plus, nobody cares how I’m dressed.” His face is stern, focused, telling me there’s no use in protesting. Christian is that kind of guy who can never sit still, especially if he’s anxious about something. It’s his turn to lead, and out the door we go. I’m grateful the sun is starting to peek over the mountain range, but still unimpressed by the frosty air that nips at my extremities. I tug on my coat, both concealing my warmth and my nightshirt.

“Morning, Graham!” Christian calls out across the road as I struggle to keep pace with Christian’s perky steps. We race right to Graham like we’re stalkers. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

Graham’s gaze finds us, and he immediately responds to Christian’s sarcasm with a chuckle. “Right. So nice out.”

“I think the whole town is out of power.” I steel my face to the ground. Christian is so embarrassing sometimes as he states the most obvious things.

“We lost power at our house a few hours ago, but the store has a generator.” Graham turns his key, releasing the door. He yanks it open with one smooth motion and jerks his head in an inviting nod. “Come on in. I’ll see if I can make some coffee.”

Graham switches the closed sign to open and heads toward the back, disappearing through a door that appears to lead to another staircase. After a few moments, the lights flicker on, and the fan of the furnace hums, bringing a promise of incoming warmth. I almost cheer. It’s funny how you never think of electricity until you’ve lost it, but I couldn’t be happier to see artificial light.

When Graham reappears, he has a full smile on his face and heads behind the coffee bar, flicking on the drip coffeepot and espresso machine. “There’s a tiny apartment upstairs that I used to live in. Before I lived there, the old lady who owned this store before me lived in it, and she had to be on oxygen when she was older. They had that generator installed for emergencies, but it comes in handy.”

“I bet.” Christian takes long strides toward the coffee bar and straddles a barstool like he already owns the place. His flashing dollar signs return to his pupils. “I love what you’ve done here. I can’t wait to see this place grow even more.”

“Yeah, like I said before, if it wasn’t for the fact my wife and I are expecting a baby, I’d keep plugging along. However, I learned the hard way with my daughter that I need to be home more, and running a bookstore is plenty enough on its own.” Graham casually takes his phone out of his pocket, and starts setting it on the counter, when his gaze flicks to it momentarily, and his eyebrows practically shoot to the ceiling. “Oh, my!”

“Everything okay?” Christian arches his chin, trying to peek at the phone in the most not-nonchalant manner.

“Ah, not sure.” Graham is rapidly texting, his eyes locked on his phone. “My wife’s water broke, but it’s too early for the baby.” His gaze cuts to Christian. “I’ve got to go.”

The front door jingles open, and a couple meanders in. “Guys, we’re closed,” Graham calls out while he digs in his pocket and pulls out a set of keys. He takes several steps toward the exit. “I need to leave.”

“Oh, I saw the lights on, and thought it was a place we could keep warm,” the man says while rubbing his bright pink hands together. “Our apartment is out of heat.”

“I was going to open.” Graham’s words rush faster as he continues to the front and switches the open sign back to closed. “But that was before I found out my wife is in labor, and now I need to go.”

“Oh, we’re sorry,” the woman says while the small smile she had been wearing noticeably plummets when she pivots to return outside.

I know how she feels.

The wind is howling, the snow is blowing, and I’m getting the shivers just thinking about going outside. I don’t want to go back to our freezing hotel room. “Ah, maybe you don’t have to leave.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat, tossing a look at Graham. “I can make them a coffee and give them a place to sit until they warm up a little.”

“I don’t know about that.” Graham’s expression pulls into a wince. “It seems like a big ask to leave you guys here. I really think we need to just lock up.”

“Well,” Christian speaks matter-of-factly, “Today is our day to transition everything, so really the coffee bar is mine, right? It really makes sense for us to stay. We can just tell everyone the bookstore is closed but we are here.”

Graham’s wince deepens as his gaze bounces from me to Christian and back to the couple. The couple’s smiles droop even more as they back away from the counter. “It’s just coffee, and we can handle it,” I say. “Christian and I both know our way around a coffee bar, and we have nothing else to do.”

Graham’s silent but he turns to Christian, who doesn’t disappoint, piping up again, “It’ll give me a chance to get to know the customers.”

Graham’s gaze bounces from the couple to Christian, and then his phone rings. He yanks it out of his pocket. “Hello?” His inflections are strained as he lowers his voice, but it doesn’t conceal the conversation that his wife’s waiting for him. Christian steps forward, waving Graham out the door. “Just go. You have my number. Call when you know she’s safe. I’ll help these people.” Graham takes a moment to look around the shop again, before giving a deep shrug, and eventually nods an agreement with his phone still glued to his ear.

I turn on my heel and head to the coffee bar. “What can I start for you?” I ask the couple.

They step forward. The guy, who is dressed in very nice business attire, says, “Just hot coffee would be great.”

“I can handle that.” I easily find the cups and pivot to fill them, but the coffeepot that Graham had switched on seems to have been backed up. There’s hot water in the pot, but no coffee. I open the back of the machine and check for grounds. They are there. I flip the switch off and then on, but it only makes a dying noise. Pursing my lips, I study it. I can’t see any switches I’m missing.

Maybe Graham has it on a rinse cycle?

There must be a switch or something I need to use to get it out of hot water mode that I don’t know. Under my breath, I hiss at Christian, who’s watching me do all the labor. “Can you look at this?”

He takes long strides over and stands in front of it with his hands on his hips. “I’m looking.”

Sometimes I just don’t have the patience for his humor, and I sigh and turn back to the couple. Now I understand Graham’s hesitation for leaving us here. Apparently, there’s a trick to his coffeepot that isn’t obvious. I’m not calling him while he’s already so stressed out. “New plan,” I say slowly, “I have hot water but no coffee. How about some tea?”

“Yeah, that sounds fine,” they both quickly agree, and the woman points to the jars directly behind me. “That breakfast blend looks great.”

“Deal.” I ready their teas, and I check the menu for the price and turn to the tablet on the counter. Thankfully, it has full charge, and it’s pretty much the same point-of-sale system Christian uses at the Coffee Loft, and I’m able to ring them up.

When they leave, Christian’s beaming at me. “You just love getting us into these things, don’t you?”

“Me?” I jerk my thumb to my chest defensively. “You’re the one who made us come over here this morning.”

“I wanted to get things swapped over to Coffee Loft. I didn’t volunteer to run the place with no training. I know nothing about these machines, and they look so vintage compared to what I’m used to. I had planned to shut the place down as soon as I get the key to remodel.”

“How hard can it be?” I gesture toward the espresso machine behind me. “It’s not half as complicated as the Coffee Loft fancy stuff.” By now the heat has returned to the room, and I’m getting used to feeling my fingers. I don’t want to go outside or back to the hotel where there’s no heat. “If you don’t want to figure it out, then don’t. I’m not going back to that hotel. If I’m going to stay here, the least I can do is give people a warm drink.”

“I guess,” he mutters as he joins me behind the counter. “I might as well start doing inventory.” His eyes pace the bookshelf of syrups. “I need to run back to the hotel to grab my laptop—”

The door pulls open, bringing in a powerful gust of wind, and a swirl of glittering snow, followed by the biggest, burliest man I’ve ever seen. His shoulders are so broad they fill the doorway, and his face is covered in a thick dark beard, the very tips of his whiskers frosted with snowflakes. He seemingly knows his way around the place as he crosses the bookstore and heads straight toward me.

“Morning.” His voice is gruff, but not unfriendly as he catches me staring. “Some weather we have here, huh?”

“R-Right.” I stammer and close my mouth before I catch the logo on his shirt, Hart Logging, and I ask the most obvious question just to make small talk, “Are you a logger?”

“When I can get to work.” There’s a gleam in the corner of his eye that is so warm I fight the urge to stare at him. He gestures forward. “I’m also a coffee addict, and I saw the lights were on.”

It’s easy to return his smile, but I’m not sure why my face is suddenly feeling so much warmer. “Yeah, I’m happy to help you.”

He cuts his gaze back to the menu. “I’ll take a large black coffee.”

I grab the cup and turn toward the coffeepot, and a frown pulls on my lips. The pot still only has water. I push the on button again. From the noise it’s making, I doubt it will work. “Ah, my coffeepot is broken today.” I pull up one side of my lips into a lopsided grin. “I’m actually not really working here, as I’m just filling in. So, I hate to mess with it and break it more, but I have hot water. I can make any tea.”

“Tea?” he echoes as if I’ve said a curse word.

“Sorry.” I smile politely and quickly motion to the assortment of jars behind me, all filled with tea leaves. “I always love a good black tea, and I can add milk and some vanilla flavor.”

His bushy eyebrows bend down, but he grunts. “If that’s all you have, I guess.”

I get busy steeping his tea leaves in hot water, but I can feel his stony stare on me, which pricks my nerves a bit. I ask another question to keep the conversation going. “So, what are you up to today in this blizzard?”

“I’m in the park with firewood. If you know anyone who needs any, send them my way.”

“I’m new to town.” I add the lid to his cup and place it on the bar in front of him. “I haven’t met many people yet.”

My gaze snags on his hands when he passes me his debit card. With raw callous scabs covering the tops of his palms, his whole hand is easily the width of two of mine. My gaze trails down his arms, and I struggle to not let my jaw hit the floor. His arms are so round, they are practically the size of Tom’s whole scrawny body. My cheeks warm at the comparison, and I force my gaze back to his face. “Just two dollars,” I say and swipe his card through the Square before I hand it back.

Our gazes linger on one another as we exchange goodbyes, and the lumberjack exits the building, leaving a trail of the whole evergreen forest behind. I’ve never seen a man like that before, and he’s left me with a strong curiosity.

“Don’t even think about it.” Christian’s warning cuts into my thoughts like nails on a chalkboard.

“What?” I cut a glance back at him, defensiveness building in my chest. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw the way you were drooling over him.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s the last thing you need is some big old mountain man to break your heart while we’re here.”

“Who said anything about romance?” I snap back, hating how Christian jumps to conclusions. I never thought for a single moment about him breaking my heart.

I’ve sworn off men.

I was simply admiring his scent.

And his beard.

And his big strong hands.

And his enormous arms.

And his kind eyes.

Yeah, he has an awful lot of good qualities to think about. I pinch my lips together, holding back a secret smile. Out of my peripheral vision, I catch the lumberjack’s backside in front of the big storefront window as he crosses the street.

He certainly is easy to look at.

And an excellent distraction from the fact I’ve sworn off dating forever.

“All right.” Christian’s stance straightens toward the door. “Enough stalling. I’m going to run to the hotel, grab my laptop, and see if they can extend our room for another night since the roads are closed. Is there anything you need me to grab for you?”

I survey the store, and the only people in here are the first couple. It’s pretty uneventful. “I should be fine.”

He throws up his palm as he marches forward. “Be back in a bit.”

I watch him leave and then because I no longer have an excuse to avoid it, I pull out my phone and text my dad

Me: Hey, Dad, I’m not going to be in for another day or two. Christian and I ended up getting snowed in.

Dots indicating he’s typing show on my screen for a long time, which is weird because my dad hates texting, and he usually only types one or two words. The amount of time it shows him typing makes me think that he’s going to lecture me about something.

Dad: Everything else okay?

My top teeth crash down on my bottom lip, as I reread his text and wonder if he suspects something else is up. Had he heard the rumors about Tom? I can’t even begin to think about how I’m going to explain that whole thing to him.

Me: Yeah, it’s fine. Just helping at the coffee shop today.

I drop my phone onto the counter before I’m tempted to add anything else. Now determined to get my mind on other things, I turn back to the coffee bar with my eyes on the broken coffeepot. There must be a button or something I’m missing. Running my hand all along the base, I can’t find anything that even resembles a button or a switch. I grab the plug out of the wall and plug it back into a different outlet. Still nothing. A cool breeze comes in from behind me, alerting me to the front door being open, and I toss a glance in that direction.

It’s just Christian.

“Back already?” I push the coffeepot back to its original spot and step away from it.

“Yeah.” He’s breathing heavy, most likely from running, and he plops his backpack on the table near the front window before he takes a moment to brush the fresh powder snow off the bottoms of his pant legs. “It’s really coming down.”

“I figured.” I slowly stride to the front of the store and peek out the large front window. There’s so much frost accumulated on the glass, it’s hard to see except for a few bare spots right in the center. “Did you notice if anything else is open? I’d love to see if I can find a coffeepot.”

“Nah, there really isn’t a point since Coffee Loft has its own brand. Just wait until we get our franchise one. That’s better than anything you’ll find at the store.” Christian unzips his bag, pulls out a thick black binder, and sets it on the table in front of him.

I turn my gaze back out and study the town. Mounds of snow are piled up on the sidewalks, making some places nearly impossible to walk. The streets have yet to be plowed, and there’s just a single lane of tracks blazed through the snow by the trucks that risked travel. Town is essentially deserted except for in the center of town where there is a park and a single truck pulled over with firewood in the back.

That must be that man who was just here…

“What are you looking at?” Christian holds his gaze on me, as if I’m accountable to him.

“Just the snow everywhere.” I shove my hands in my pockets and move away from the window, sneaking another peek at the truck before I turn completely away. “You know, since you’re back, I might step out for some fresh air.”

“Did you already forget it’s freezing out?” Arching his chin, his gaze slams to the window like he’s inspecting the outside for something he suspects he missed. His smile grows flimsy when his eyes roam over on the lone truck. “El…”

My lips curl against my will, and I move toward the door before Christian has more time to solve this riddle. I push the door open and step out, calling back, “Just grabbing some fresh air . . .”

I turn toward the park, and add under my breath and only for me, “And a better view.”