Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set

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Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set Page 53

by Lucy McConnell

The other side of his mouth lifted. “Your hair. It’s kind of a dead giveaway.”

  Her face went from pink to red and she reached up to make sure the knot was still in place. The blue shirt must have brought out the red. “Oh.”

  Troy’s gaze lingered, dipping to her almost bare shoulder and then jerking back to her eyes. “I guess with your green eyes you figured you were safe.” He leaned over his desk. “Or maybe you thought you’d trick me.”

  The room was an inferno and Chloe’s whole body was on fire under Troy’s intense gaze. “You caught me.” She snapped her fingers and pointed at him like a moron. “Can’t pull one over on you.” Her voice sounded strained and she wanted to crawl under the desk.

  “Nope.” He leaned back, all casual sexy in his plain tee shirt and jeans, his eyes finding the computer screen once again. Some men were just born to be amazing-looking.

  She reached for a file on the corner of her desk. And some women were just meant to be dorks in front of them. She’d captured Troy’s attention, all right, and then she’d flushed the opportunity right down the old toilet in the shop restroom she refused to sit down on. She was never showing skin at work again!

  Chapter 3

  December 12th (Or as Troy liked to call it, “Finally, the wedding.”)

  Troy

  Troy decided there was only one thing worse than a big family wedding, and that was a big family wedding at Christmas. The roads were slick with snow and ice, the temperatures were low enough to make travel an inconvenience at best, and on top of the regular Christmas shopping, he had to find a gift for Ronnie and Grady.

  He may have been worried about a gift, but he shook his head at all the nonsense his mother and Ronnie fretted over. Turned out Grady’s great-aunt couldn’t sit next to her sister-in-law and the wedding planner insisted they rearrange the seating chart for the dinner and Mom texted him nonstop about it for two days. If Troy was in charge, he’d put them together and enjoy the show.

  Then there was the transportation for out-of-town guests. Mom made no less than eight schedules, all of which had him at the airport three times, to pick up aunts and uncles, cousins and long-lost Snow Valley-ites. His head spun just thinking about it. When he mentioned it to Dad, Dad up and rented a bunch of vans to make the trips instead of Troy and cart people to and from the wedding events. Their guest list filled up the Starry Skies Bed & Breakfast.

  To top off his family fraying his nerves like a dull knife carving away at what was normally a thick rope, Grady took the week off. Now, a guy was allowed some leeway when he tied the knot, but a week off before the wedding and a week off for the honeymoon was pushing it. Grady promised him the same treatment when he decided to take the plunge. At this point, Troy would rather swim with an alligator.

  He glanced around the organized office space. A new filing cabinet sat in the corner, keeping most of the paperwork off their three desks. Labeled inboxes and outgoing boxes stacked on the corner of each desk. The whiteboard was now color-coordinated making tracking jobs as easy as a glance. Chloe had revolutionized their business, streamlined their payroll process, and even ordered them all hoodies with the company logo on the front. In short, they looked legit and business rolled in at an astonishing rate. He liked that.

  Chloe was something else. She’d been fidgety the first few weeks but seemed to settle down around St. Patrick’s Day. Now, she got along with everyone, dividing her time between the shop and the office. Troy considered himself a hard worker, but Chloe handled moving from task to task with a smile on her face. He didn’t do that. In fact, he didn’t smile much at all—ever. He’d have to work on that for the wedding pictures.

  Troy’s cell phone rang and he leaned forward so he could pull it out of his back pocket. “Troy here.”

  “Troy, honey, it’s your mom.”

  “Hey, Mom.” Troy brought up the billing software and searched for the Deere account. He needed to record their emergency load of gravel before he forgot.

  “I feel so silly. In all the wedding hubbub, I’ve forgotten your girlfriend’s name.”

  He squinted at the screen. Why did they make the font so small? There had to be a way to make it larger. “My what now?”

  “Your girlfriend. The one you’ve been telling us about all year but refuse to bring home.”

  There. The font size was now 12 point and he could actually read the names on the list. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “What?!” Mom’s shriek reached right on down to when Troy was thirteen and he and Grady had shot the neighbor’s dog with a paintball gun. In their defense, the dog was chasing Ronnie’s cat and had it by the tail. The thing was mean and the paintballs were handy.

  Troy cringed. He should have been paying closer attention to the conversation. In his defense, his mom talked about a lot of stuff that wasn’t important. “I, uh …”

  “Troy Martin. I’ve been saving a seat for that girl all year long. We ordered her chicken. She’s getting the chocolate mousse cake for dessert.” The stress level in her voice was through the roof. She was like a balloon blown up too far. One little poke and she’d blow.

  “Mom—”

  “If you’re telling me I need to redo the seating arrangements because you did something stupid and broke that girl’s heart—I’m going to have a complete come-apart on you.”

  “Mom—I didn’t break her heart.” Sheesh. Thanks for thinking the best of me. Was this what his family thought of him? That he was a player who toyed with women’s feelings? That didn’t sit well. He wasn’t a player. Yes, he dated, though not for a long while. He liked women, liked to be around them, liked how pretty they smelled. He worked with a bunch of truck drivers, for heaven’s sake. A guy needed refinement, perfume, and conversation that didn’t involve motor oil every once in a while. But he hadn’t found a woman that he connected with, and that was important.

  “Maybe you can get her back.”

  What the …? “I don’t need to get her back.”

  “Well, if she’s not your girlfriend … Oh my heavens!” Mom gasped and sputtered. “You’re engaged?!”

  Whoa! “No. I—”

  “Don’t say another word. I totally understand. This is your sister’s wedding and you don’t want to upstage that by announcing an engagement, but Troy, you’re a huge part of this family too and there’s no point in hiding good news. It’s Christmas. We should celebrate.”

  “Mom. Slow down.”

  “I can’t. I’m so excited. You don’t know how many nights your father and I have been on our knees asking the Lord to help you find someone. Being single was fine when you and Grady were starting the business and then working so hard to keep it afloat. Believe me, we understand how hard it is to get a business up and running when you have a family to provide for. We did it with the shop, and there were definitely bumps in the road. But we worried so much when Grady and Ronnie got together. We don’t want you to be alone.”

  Troy drew his eyebrows low. “You’re still praying for this?” Candace had mentioned it at the engagement party clear back in February.

  “We’ve always prayed for you kids. We just refocused our prayers on you finding your match. Prayer works. I tell you kids all the time: if you want results, you go to God.”

  Troy was praying now. Praying his mom would understand when he showed up at the wedding by himself. The door to the shop opened and he glanced up to see Chloe come in, wearing a pair of mechanic’s overalls over her office clothes and wiping her hands on an oil rag. Her hair was up on top of her head in a messy bun and she had a smear of black across her cheek. He frowned at her. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared if grease came into the office, but it looked so good now that he didn’t want it messed up.

  She ignored him and headed for her desk, where she began typing. She wasn’t a chatty person, and that was just fine with him.

  “Mom, I gotta go. There’s a ton to do here before I can get out of town.”

  “Okay—I just need a name for the
place card.”

  “Oh, uh—” He scrambled for inspiration. “Chloe.”

  Her head came up, a question written on her face. He held up a finger, indicating that he’d tell her in just a second.

  “Chloe? Isn’t that your new business partner?”

  This was so bad. He swallowed. “Yep.” Wait, this might be good. He could say they decided that mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea and that’s why she broke up with him. He could show up alone and get the sympathy card. He’d look like a pathetic loser in front of his extended family and half the town of Snow Valley, where he’d grown up. Crap, his third-grade teacher would probably be at the ceremony. What a mess. “Mom, I gotta go.”

  “Okay. Don’t be late to anything.”

  “I won’t.”

  They said goodbye and hung up the phone. He dropped his on his desk, glaring at it.

  “Everything okay?” Chloe wasn’t looking at him. She didn’t usually. She talked as she worked. If she wasn’t typing, then she was straightening her desk. If they were in the shop, she was tightening a bolt or cleaning tools. She didn’t really look at him and for some reason that grated today.

  “No.”

  At that answer, she did turn. Her green eyes were hard to read. “Anything I can do to help?”

  Her question kicked his funny bone and he laughed. She was the one and only person on the planet who could actually help with this mess. “Not unless you want to pretend to be my fiancée for the weekend.”

  Her mouth made a small O. “I’m guessing there’s a story here?”

  He leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. He’d had it cut last week in preparation for the wedding and was still surprised to feel how short the sides were. He’d kept the beard; there was no point in shaving until he had to. “It’s not a very good one.”

  She turned her chair around and plopped her chin on her fists and her elbows on her knees. “Do tell.”

  He laughed again, his face growing red. He’d laughed more in the last three minutes with her than he had in the last three weeks. Huh. “My family was giving me a hard time about Ronnie getting married first, you know, since I’m the oldest. They’ve been stressing over it for months. Anyway, I told them I was dating someone just to ease their minds. So my mom calls today to find out who I’m dating, and somehow …” He was a little fuzzy on his mom’s train of thought jumping to the engagement track. “She ended up thinking I’m engaged. Well, we’re engaged.”

  Chloe’s eyebrows climbed so high they almost disappeared into her hair. “You told her we were engaged?”

  “I didn’t—well, I mean, I guess I did.” He scrubbed his neck. “She was asking for a name for the place card, and you were sitting here.”

  “So I was convenient.” She sat up and turned her chair back around. Her chin lifted, and he could have sworn she was blinking more than necessary.

  “Don’t be insulted. You were the first girl I thought of.” That didn’t sound right. His slightly warm face cranked up to burning inferno. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  She took in a deep breath, her shoulders lifting almost to her ears, and then she let it out. “I’ll do it,” she said quietly.

  “Do what?”

  “I’ll be your fake fiancée for the wedding.”

  “Wait—you will?” She would? “That would save me a lot of explaining.”

  “Yeah. We’re shutting down the shop, so it’s not like one of us has to be here.”

  “True.” Things were kind of falling into place. He drummed his fingers on the table. “We could break up the next week and no one would be the wiser. We could still be friends.”

  “Business partners,” she corrected him. She hit a few keys and the monitor went to sleep.

  Troy felt a little stab, like she’d put him in his place with that business partner comment. “You don’t think we’re friends?”

  She picked up her purse, paused, and considered him. “What’s my favorite holiday?”

  He lifted a shoulder.

  “Where do I hang out when I’m not here?”

  He pressed his lips together, not having an answer.

  “What’s my favorite color?”

  He shrugged.

  “Friends know those things.” She smiled. “I’m not trying to be mean; I’m just calling it like it is. The only time we spend together is in this office, and I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

  He shifted under the realization that he hadn’t done much to make Chloe feel like part of the inner circle. He’d actually worked to keep her at least a short distance away, though he didn’t understand why. Grady had talked about inviting Chloe to the wedding at one of their many mandatory family planning meetings, but the guest list was so long that Troy waved off the idea saying Chloe wouldn’t care or come. Now he realized he’d been a big jerk. He frowned at himself.

  “Troy, it’s fine. I’m fine. Okay? I like what I do here, and this is a good company.”

  Troy stared at the desktop. He’d worked alongside Chloe for ten months; he should know at least one of those answers. “Red,” he blurted. “Your favorite color is red.”

  She shook her head making her curls dance. “It’s aqua. Why’d you think it was red?”

  “You wear red tee shirts all the time,” he defended his answer. He remembered because the color popped in the shop and his eyes constantly found her—even when he wasn’t consciously looking for her.

  Lines appeared in her forehead. “I have one red tee shirt and I wear it, like, once every other week.”

  He’d screwed that up. “Oh, well, I remembered it, I guess.”

  She chewed her bottom lip, considering his answer.

  The silence in the room was suddenly too loud and propelled Troy to his feet. “Thanks for doing this. I’ll text you the itinerary so you can pack. We’ll have to leave about noon tomorrow.”

  “Do I need to call and reserve a hotel room?”

  Troy’s stomach dropped to the floor. “There aren’t any hotels in Snow Valley. We’ll, uh, be staying with my parents.” Not only would they have to pretend they were engaged at the wedding festivities; they’d have to keep it up all the time.

  “Oh. Sure. Sounds like fun. I’m sure they’re great people.” She backed towards the door. Her heel caught on the work mat and she stumbled before righting herself. “I’ll watch for that email—text! You’re going to text me.” She pointed at him.

  “Sounds good. Thanks again. You’re going to love my family—they’re really great people.”

  She swung open the door, letting in an icy blast. He thought she muttered something like “that’s what I’m afraid of” as she left.

  The door shut with a solid clang. “I’m a moron.” He threw himself into his desk chair. There was no way his family was going to buy the idea he was engaged to Chloe. She was so awkward—tripping over rugs and words like she was afraid of him. Besides, if Grady and Ronnie were any indication, engaged couples were supposed to do things like kiss—a lot.

  He tried to picture himself kissing Chloe and was shocked to find that it wasn’t that difficult. Shaking off the image, because it would do him absolutely no good to go there, he hurried to wrap things up so he could leave. He needed to swing by the tux rental before they closed, and he needed to pick up some supplies for the bachelor party. With any luck, the family would be so focused on Ronnie and Grady that they wouldn’t pay much attention to him and Chloe.

  Chapter 4

  Chloe

  Chloe slammed her car door and hit the talk button on her phone before even thinking about leaving the parking lot. “Call Bree.” She ran her palm over the steering wheel, her heart thundering.

  “Calling Bree,” said the robotic female voice. The phone rang twice before Bree picked up.

  “Hi.”

  “Bree, are you still at work?”

  “I’m just closing up.”

  Chloe stamped her work boot on the floor mat. “Can you stay
open later for me?”

  “What’s going on?” Bree’s voice was full of mistrust. “You didn’t get your hair caught in an engine and have to hack your way out, did you? I told you to keep it up.”

  “No.” Chloe took a deep breath. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to do this, and saying it out loud made it sound all that much more ridiculous. Who pretended to be engaged when there wasn’t an inheritance, a land deal, or a dying grandparent on the line? “You know how you’ve always wanted to do a makeover on me and I won’t let you because what’s the point?”

  “Yeah …?”

  “Well, tonight is your lucky night.”

  Bree’s squeal pierced Chloe’s eardrum and she dropped the phone. Muttering, she scrambled to pick it up off the floor. “Are you there?”

  Bree was hyperventilating. “I’m gathering supplies. How long until you get here?”

  Chloe checked the clock on the dash. “Five minutes or less.”

  “Okay, I’m going to flip the sign to closed so you have my undivided attention. Wait—what are we making you over for?”

  Chloe cringed. “Would you believe I got fake-engaged tonight?”

  “No. To whom?”

  “Troy.”

  “Troy? Okay, don’t tell me a thing. I want every little detail and we’ll have plenty of time while the color sets.”

  Color? Chloe checked her reflection in the rearview. Her hair was that embarrassing color of red—the kind people made fun of. And the curl was out of control. She’d pulled it all up on top of her head with a black scrunchie before walking into work today. To be honest, after the St. Patrick’s Day debacle, when she’d given up on her and Troy, getting ready in the morning became so much easier because she didn’t have to put a lot of effort into her appearance to send out invoices or charge a truck battery.

  The fact that Troy had picked her name to give his mom couldn’t be a coincidence. She didn’t believe in those. She was in Troy’s head and she was going to show him what he’d been missing out on. If nothing else, she wanted to see him drool—just once.

 

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