Andi didn't know why he wasn't happy to see her, but that wasn't her problem. She sure as hell wasn't going to let this surly behemoth intimidate her. She leaned her head back and looked him in the eye without taking a step back.
"Hrmph," another grunt rumbled out of the big man's chest as he gave her a dubious look. Then he turned and headed for the door cursing bitterly under his breath.
"What the hell is his problem?" Andi demanded of Jen as soon as the man's giant hand pulled the door closed behind him.
Jen's entire body was shaking with stifled laughter as she shook her head, "I think he's in love," she giggled, "I have never seen the Grinch stand that close to anybody!" Jen's laughter spilled over her self control and she held herself steady against the counter top while the giggles ran their course.
Andi watched the laughing woman and waited till she was fit to talk again, "The what?"
"The Grinch, honey, you know, like in the cartoon?" Jen was still laughing to herself as she motioned for Andi to join her behind the counter, "It's just what everyone calls him. He's not exactly a people person."
Andi raised an eyebrow, "you don't say," she said sarcastically.
"He's a good man," Jen was babbling as she set out the recipe cards and positioned Andi behind the counter, "he's just a little rough around the edges."
Andi spent the rest of the day memorizing the seasonal coffee recipes that they'd be serving for the holidays, obsessing about Mike, and forgetting all about "the Grinch."
Chapter 3
The burly man that Jen referred to as "Grinchie" was a regular in the morning routine, showing up around 10 AM every day, picking up his brewed black coffee and honey turnover-- a specialty of the local bakery made of phyllo dough that was brushed with honey and sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar-- which Jen always had ready for him so he didn't have to wait. He'd drop money on the counter without counting it and conduct the entire transaction without a word.
Andi tried to find an excuse to check the back room, or take the trash out the back, or any other thing she could think of to make sure she wasn't around for the 30 seconds it took for the Grinch to get his breakfast and go.
She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something about the big man made her uncomfortable.
"He's not gonna bite ya, hun," Jen had laughed the first time she noticed Andi's attempts to avoid him.
"I know," Andi had said meekly as she wiped down the counter after she had made sure he was gone, "I'm not scared of him."
Jen put rested her fist on the cushion of her hip and gave Andi an inquisitive look, "Then why do you always avoid him?"
Andi shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, "I'm not avoiding him. I just don't know what to say to him."
Jen nodded with a laugh and went back to her preparations for the lunch crowd, "Ya don't say anything to the Grinch, you just give him his breakfast and let him go on about his way. The man has no need for small talk." She tilted her head and added with a smirk, "Don't worry, he's just as scared of you as you are of him."
The morning dawned early for Andi after a night of dialing Mike's phone number and then canceling it, then dialing it, then canceling. She'd finally convinced herself to go to sleep but she'd only tossed and turned till the alarm went off at 4 in the morning.
Jen was letting Andi help behind the counter during the morning rush of regulars making their pre-dawn coffee stop on their way to where ever people go at 5 AM. Andi brewed espresso shots and bagged pastries, smiling and greeting the townsfolk that she had been getting to know by name.
The morning rush was dying down, giving Andi time to check her cell phone for messages from home while Jen stocked the store room with the new cups and lids and other supplies that had just been delivered.
The little bell tinkled as the big front door was pushed open. Andi was so distracted by the email in her inbox from the familiar address of the auto shop's company account that she didn't notice the bell, the opening door, or the man standing silently in front of her on the other side of the counter.
"Something bad?" A gruff voice rumbled from somewhere above her head.
Andi jumped back and slid the phone into her apron pocket. The Grinch was standing at the counter, his hands shoved in the pockets of the denim bib-overalls he wore. A concerned look furrowed his brow as he stared at her.
The width of the counter was keeping him far enough away from her that she could look at him without having to bend backwards. She noticed that his eyes were deep and brown and kind looking-- if you could find them under all the whiskers. He looked like he hadn't shaved since Elvis died.
He wore a baseball cap that didn't quite cover the brown hair that looked like his next hair cut was about three months overdue. The ends poked out from under the hat and curled around wildly in the same dark brown that matched his beard and mustache. A rich, dark brown that faded out at the edges to a pale blonde which gave the illusion of gray from a distance.
The torn neck of his thermal undershirt showed under the unbuttoned plaid flannel shirt that he wore over the overalls.
Upon careful study, he appeared much younger than she had originally pegged him for, if still looking like a refugee from Duck Dynasty.
He motioned toward the phone she had slipped in her pocket, reminding her that he had spoken. Which only delayed her response further as she considered whether or not she should feel special that he'd actually spoken to her.
"Not really," She tried not to overshare with the strange man who was only being polite by asking and didn't really care about her personal life, she was sure. She poured his coffee and put one of his favorite pastries in a bag for him. She could feel his eyes following her as she moved but he didn't say anything more to her.
When she handed him his regular order he took it from her hand with a gentleness that surprised her. She'd half expected him to snatch it from her hands. Instead, he moved slowly and deliberately, his hands hovering next to hers around the base of the thick paper coffee cup just a half a second longer than necessary before finally taking it into his own hand.
"Thank you," he muttered quietly as he turned, seeming reluctant to tear his eyes off of hers.
Andi watched him disappear out the door and then collected the money he'd dropped on the counter. As she turned to ring up the sale, she noticed a wide-eyed Jen standing near the back door gaping at her.
"Well I never." Jen's voice was filled with wonder, "That man has been coming in here since I started workin' with Becka, I always have his order ready to go for him and not once has he ever said 'thank you' to me."
Jen shook her head in disbelief and raised an eyebrow, "I'm tellin ya, our Grinchie is sweet on you, missy!" The corners of Jen's lip lifted in amusement as she continued to shake her head as she turned down the hallway back to the storage room.
Andi closed the drawer on the cash register and pulled her phone back out of her pocket. Mike just wanted to know if she'd closed the ticket on the blue Ford before she'd left. Nothing in his email about them. About being sorry. About wanting her back. Just business.
* * *
"What's his real name?"
Every day the Grinch came in. Every day Jen had his order ready. Every day-- since Andi had arrived-- he hesitated a little longer before turning and walking back out the door.
"Don't know," Jen shrugged as if it had never occurred to her to ask.
"What does he do?"
"Don't know that either," Jen handed a stack of paper cups to Andi, "He has a big truck with a snow plow on it. And a tow truck. He's not really officially in business for either, but if you need one or the other he'll help you out," a stack of matching lids followed the cups.
"Where does he live?"
Jen raised her eyebrows and gave Andi a look that accused her of being overly interested, "Up on the loop. Just past where they close the road in winter."
* * *
"What in the....." Jen's normally loud voice was barely above a whisper as she t
urned toward the sound of the chair being dragged out from one of the tables.
The Grinch had come in as usual. Walked to the counter as usual. Dropped his money as usual and taken his order from Jen as usual.
Then he'd stood still and looked toward Andi till she made eye contact with him and smiled which had become the new usual.
Usually he would nod politely at her and then turn and walk out.
This morning, he had turned and walked to one of the bistro sets in the dining room. Jen had been on her way to get another gallon of milk out of the big refrigerator in the back room when she'd heard the sound of the chair scraping against the wood floor.
Jen turned around and walked back till she was standing next to Andi, shoulder to shoulder as they watched him sit down in the chair and slowly take his pastry out of the bag while opening the daily paper.
Andi turned her head to look at Jen. Jen looked back at her and cocked her head to one side. She waggled a finger toward the Grinch and then pointed back at Andi and nodded before turning back to finish her chore.
Andi watched the man slowly eat his turnover and finish his coffee. He sat with his back toward the counter, the seams of his flannel shirt straining over his broad shoulders as he leaned forward on the table.
He stayed until new customers arrived, talking and filling the little store with laughter. Then the Grinch got up from his chair and walked out.
Andi was busy with the small group of young men who were joking with her as they ordered their drinks, but that didn't stop her from noticing the big man disappearing through the door as he shot a glance at her before the door closed behind him.
Chapter 4
Thanksgiving was a week away.
Andi hung up the phone and tried to hold back the tears that threatened behind her anger.
She kept waiting for Mike to apologize. To try to make it up to her. Or just break it off altogether. Do something. Just make a decision.
No. She knew what she was waiting for was for him to make the decision for her. And she was having to admit to herself that he wasn't going to do that.
He really didn't think he'd done anything so terrible. He was really willing to go through with marrying her and going back to the way things were-- as long as he didn't have to give up the bimbo on the side. Or bimbos. Who knew?
She'd finally done it. She'd broken down and called him. She'd been hoping to hear relief in his voice. Hoping he'd tell her he loved her. Hoping he'd beg her to come home.
Instead, he'd made small talk. Acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. Waited for her to mention it. And then all hell had broken loose.
Now Andi sat in the apartment above the coffee shop trying to convince herself that she was every bit as strong and confident as the angry woman who'd just called off her wedding. Who'd just screamed every obscenity she could think of at the man she'd expected to spend her life with, reading him the riot act about respect and dignity and how she deserved to be loved every bit as much as any other woman and if he thought she was going to compromise that and be grateful to him for letting her cook and clean and work for him while he kept some skinny whore on the side then he could choke on that fucking ring.
Andi sniffed hard and straightened her shoulders. She wasn't going to sit inside on her day off and cry over it. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she marched into the bedroom in search of her boots.
An hour later she parked the Camry in the turn out beside the road and locked the door. It had started snowing again that morning but it was probably just another short flurry like the last few had been. She buttoned up the thick jacket and pulled the knit beanie over her ears and then set off on the little trail that led into the woods.
The hike to the falls took about an hour. She could have continued on, farther into the mountains all the way to the border of Yosemite if she had the mind to but by the time she reached the waterfalls the snow was still falling and starting to build up a soft cover of white.
Andi sat on the bench and watched the water as it cascaded off the rocky cliff overhead. She thought about Mike and the canceled wedding plans and how she planned on telling his family what happened.
You know what? Fuck that. She threw a small rock against the falling water with all the force she could muster as she got back on her feet, He's the one who fucked it all up. Let him explain it to his mom.
By the time Andi rounded the last corner in the trail she'd gotten a grip on herself. Sure, it hurt. It was going to hurt for a long time, but she really did deserve to be loved for who she was. If Mike wasn't offering that, then Mike could go to hell.
Andi had herself so riled up she almost ran into the bear.
She'd been kicking the toes of her boots through the soft white powder that covered the trail, cursing the time she'd wasted on her ex-fiance and not paying close attention to the forest around her. The bear was standing in the middle of the trail looking every bit as surprised to see her as she was to see it.
Andi had never seen a real live bear. She froze in her tracks less than 10 feet from the thing. It was huge. Not as big as her car, huge, but much bigger than she'd expected a bear to be. It was standing on all fours, covered in thick brown fur, it's head hanging down from the huge slope of its shoulders, its front paws on the ground with it's long, white claws curving into the snow.
Staring at her.
Andi ran through a mental photo gallery of all the little figurines in Becka's apartment, the paintings of bears that hung in the coffee shop, the postcards with pictures of bears that one of the locals sold for a dollar, but none of the images fit this bear.
This bear was bigger. It's shoulders sloped differently. It's claws looked longer. Then it was gone. Dashing off the trail and into the woods, disappearing between the trees before Andi had time to panic.
She watched the large animal disappear and found her breath again, not realizing she'd been holding it through the entire encounter.
The Camry was waiting patiently for her return under a fresh blanket of snow that was deeper than she'd expected in the few hours she'd been gone and was continuing to get deeper.
Climbing inside and starting the engine, she let it idle till the heater was blowing hot air onto her ice cold hands. When she could make a fist without worrying about her skin cracking and breaking, she slipped the car into gear and began heading down the hill toward town.
Snow was still flying through the air and the layer of snow on the road made it obvious that no one had been this far up the road that looped back to the highway on the north end of the lakes. Andi wasn't used to driving on snow, it never snowed back home in the valley, but she was sure this wasn't enough to worry about.
She hadn't made it far when the front wheels lost traction. The car slid along the smooth patch of ice on the road like an air hockey puck.
Andi pushed harder on the brake pedal but it did no good. The car slowly slid sideways until it came to a rest against the dirt berm on the side of the road.
Andi gulped for air. Taking several deep breaths to calm herself, she checked that the engine was still running and gently pressed the gas pedal. She felt the wheels turning but the car didn't budge.
She slipped the gear knob down to first and tried again. Again the wheels spun.
She turned the key off and climbed out of the car, walking around to assess the damage. The passenger side of the car was resting against the muddy berm but appeared to have largely escaped any real damage. The problem was the front wheels were now stuck in a swath of snow and mud where the car had come to a rest off the pavement. Her attempts to get underway again had dug the tires through the snow, creating a red soup of melted ice and mud that offered no traction.
Andi slipped back into the warm cab and grabbed her phone only to be reminded of how remote the area was. From where she was stuck, she could see the lights of town beginning to twinkle in the darkening storm yet she was far enough out that the phone was useless.
She took a deep sig
h and locked up the car. It was a long walk back to town.
By the time Andi reached the mailbox at the end of the gravel drive, her fingers and face were frozen numb again. She'd slipped on icy spots under the deceptive snow twice and the last time she'd gone down on her hip pretty hard.
She was walking with a limp, her hands tucked into her arm pits. The fleece-lined flannel jacket she was wearing wasn't holding up to the snow well. As the snow built up on the fabric and began to melt, it was soaking through the lining. The wind was picking up and town was still a long way off.
Andi stood beside the mailbox with the house number painted in faded paint on the side and looked longingly up the winding driveway. She could just make out the cabin at the top of the hill, warm yellow light glowing through the windows and a plume of smoke curling above the brick chimney.
Most of the people who lived out here were pretty friendly.
She took the first hesitant steps up the driveway toward the smell of wood fire and dinner cooking. Hopefully whoever lived here wouldn't mind an unexpected guest under the circumstances.
The cabin was surrounded by a wide deck that wrapped almost completely around in different levels to accommodate the slope of the hillside. Andi climbed the steps of the deck and knocked tentatively on the front door.
It was obvious that someone was around, there was a fire in the big stone fireplace, she could see it blazing through the window next to the door. The smell of food cooking made her stomach rumble. She knocked again, this time louder.
A sound came from the other side of the cabin, possibly outside on the back side of the deck. Andi considered walking around to the other side of the little house but then she heard the sound of the back door slamming shut.
The door in front of her opened, the warmth from the interior sweeping over her as she stood just outside. As the door began to swing open to the inside, the first thing Andi saw was the bare torso of a large man and the loose fitting flannel pajama pants that hung dangerously low on his hips.
Shifters in the Snow Page 13
