by Anthology
He hoped for it all the same.
Making up his mind, he left the room, scooping his discarded shirt up off the floor as he went.
Once out in the living room, he changed clothes before quickly going about and gathering up his things, stuffing them haphazardly back into his duffel bag.
When he’d finished that, he tidied up the cabin a little bit, folding the blankets that he’d used while sleeping on the couch and rinsing out the mugs from their Truth or Dare session at the breakfast bar.
He smiled sadly as he looked at them, thinking about the incredible turn of events that last night had presented, and wondering if that was all that there ever would be between them. He shook his head, annoyed by his own sappiness, as he tucked them away inside the dishwasher.
Turning back to the living room, he went over to his duffel bag and fished out his cellphone. The battery was nearly dead, seeing as how he’d been too caught up in playing house here with Shelby to even remember he owned the damn thing, let alone actually charge it.
He had a few bars of service, so he quickly looked up a tow truck company and dialed the number, holding his breath on the off chance that they were actually open on Christmas Eve day.
Somebody answered on the third ring.
“Terry’s Towing,” answered a gruff male voice.
Wolfe felt his chest deflate in disappointment. Okay, so maybe he’d actually been kind of hoping that no one would answer, if only because it meant spending a couple more days alone here with Shelby.
“Hello?” the man—presumably “Terry”—said impatiently when Wolfe didn’t speak right away.
Wolfe quickly recollected his thoughts, shaking off his melancholy musing.
“Uh, hi. I’d like to request a battery jump; or even a replacement, if you guys do that sort of thing.”
“What’s the make and model of the vehicle?”
“It’s a Ford F-150,” Wolfe answered, running a hand back through his hair.
There was a short pause on the other side of the line as Terry went to check something.
“Yeah, we can replace the battery for you,” Terry said, coming back to the phone. “But there’s going to be an additional holiday fee on top of the normal replacement price.”
“That’s fine,” Wolfe agreed, nodding to himself. He’d suspected as much.
“Okay, then. What’s the truck’s location?”
Wolfe gave the man the approximate coordinates of where his truck was.
“Alright, sir. I’ll have somebody out there within an hour or so.”
Wolfe thanked him and ended the call, sighing as he looked around the small cabin, his time here officially up.
He spotted a notepad and a pen sitting on the counter in the kitchen, giving him a sudden idea.
He walked over to it, scribbling down a note for Shelby, explaining where he had gone. He added his phone number at the end, figuring that if she wanted to see him again after this, then all she would have to do is call and he would be there, even if he had to haul his ass all the way down to Louisiana.
Even if it was just as friends.
Wolfe placed the note where it would be easily visible to her, before going back into the living room to grab his bag.
He hauled the strap over his shoulder, his eyes lingering on the bedroom door down the hall as he crossed to the front door.
Wolfe shook his head and looked away. He didn’t want to wake Shelby.
What was more, he wasn’t so sure he could handle an awkward let’s be friends conversation so soon after what they had shared last night.
Forcing his eyes forward, Wolfe left the cabin, willing himself to not look back with every step he took away from the woman who’d saved his life…
Only to steal his heart.
Chapter 12
Shelby was alone again, and not even the normally uplifting twang of Dolly Parton’s voice crooning out over the speakers of the iHome could cheer her up this time.
She had woken this morning, basking in the glow of memories from last night, only to find herself in bed alone.
She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, assuming that Wolfe must be elsewhere in the cabin, as she rolled out of bed, eager to see what he was up to.
Shelby stretched, feeling pleasantly sore in all the right places as she crossed the room to the dresser. Wolfe certainly knew how to work a woman over in bed; of that, there was no denying. Her cheeks heated when she caught sight of her torn panties on the floor, driving home the praise for his sexual prowess, as she recalled how he’d literally ripped them off of her the night before.
Shaking her head wryly at the carnal memory, Shelby quickly got dressed and strolled down the hall to the living room.
“Wolfe?” she’d called, her brow furrowing when she didn’t see him lounging on the couch or messing around in the kitchen like usual.
That was when she’d spied the notepad that was propped up against the whiskey bottle on the breakfast bar.
Her legs feeling suddenly leaden, Shelby crossed the room to investigate the pad of paper, her heart sinking when she realized it was a goodbye note.
Shelby,
I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. I was finally able to get a tow truck up here now that the snow is melting, so I guess my days of mooching off of you are over.
You can call me anytime—Wolfe.
P.S. Last night was amazing…
Shelby swallowed thickly, surprised by the sudden, crushing sense of loss that threatened to overwhelm her as she finished reading it. Her finger traced over the postscript at the end of his note.
I thought last night was amazing, too, she thought, her sadness verging on frustration. So why did you leave, you bastard?
Maybe Shelby wasn’t being fair. It wasn’t like she owned the man. He’d had a life outside this cabin prior to these past four days of being snowed in with her, so who was she to judge him for wanting to get back to it? He didn’t owe her anything.
But after last night, she was beginning to realize that she felt more for Wolfe than just some empty physical attraction…
And she had hoped he might feel the same.
Shelby shook her head roughly, angry with herself when she felt tears prick her eyes.
Maybe last night had just been about the sex for him after all. That would certainly explain the haste of his escape this morning.
But Wolfe was a good man; she knew that much, at least, after all the time that they’d spent together. He didn’t seem like the “hit it and quit it” type to her.
And he’d left his phone number on the note; so perhaps, just like he had after their first kiss, he was waiting for her to make the next move.
Empowered by her resolve, Shelby went back to the bedroom to find her cellphone so that she could call him right then and there, if only to find out what was going on inside that thick head of his.
But when she dialed his number, the damn thing went straight to voicemail.
At the time, she hadn’t been quite desperate enough to leave him a message, begging him to come back.
So she’d hung up with a huff, sending him a text that said, Hey, this is Shelby. Call me when you get this. so that he had her number now, too.
Satisfied, she’d ventured back into the living room, deciding to put Dolly on shuffle while she cooked herself some breakfast and waited for him to call.
That had been nearly two hours ago.
Now, music still playing, she sat moping on the couch as she stared unseeingly into the fire, the lyrics of “Just When I Needed You Most” hitting just a little too close to home for comfort, at the moment.
Wolfe still hadn’t called or texted her back, and she was about one more song verse away from chucking her phone into the fire, when she heard the distant rumble of a truck engine from outside.
Shelby instantly perked up, but she kept her emotions in check as she went to the door to look outside.
It can’t be him, can
it?
But she didn’t know who else it could possibly be other than Wolfe, when she caught sight of the dark blue pickup making its way up the drive.
Shelby walked out onto the porch, leaving the cabin door open as she watched the truck pull up and park beside her car. Sure enough, Wolfe stepped out of the truck and slammed the door.
And when he turned to face her, and she saw his adorably sheepish expression and the bouquet of random-looking flowers that he was holding, Shelby just couldn’t help herself.
She ran the short distance that separated them, throwing her arms around his neck as she embraced him.
Wolfe caught her, making a little umf sound of surprise as her momentum hit him, but he didn’t seem to mind as he wrapped his arms tightly around her in return.
“You came back,” she said, her voice slightly muffled from the way she had her face pressed into his chest. She pulled back a little so that she could tilt her head back to look at him, a coy smile on her lips. “And you brought me flowers?”
Wolfe quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Who said they were for you?” he quipped, but the amusement in his eyes let her know that he was only teasing her.
Wolfe chuckled when she stuck her tongue out at him, taking a step back so that he could offer her the bouquet.
“Sorry,” he said, suddenly self-conscious as she took the unusual assortment of flowers. “The gas station was the only place that was open in town today, so, you know—I know they’re not much to look at, but…”
“I think they’re lovely,” she said, putting an end to his stammered explanation as she pressed the flowers to her nose and she inhaled deeply. She looked back up at him, smiling. “Thank you.”
Wolfe smiled back, until she punched him in the arm.
“Ow,” he said, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?”
“That was for not answering your damn phone, or calling me back,” she said, cocking a hand on her hip as she narrowed her eyes at him.
Wolfe had the good graces to look apologetic.
“I’m sorry. My phone died shortly after calling the tow truck this morning, and I haven’t had a chance to charge it yet,” he explained, his eyes earnest.
Shelby sighed and rolled her eyes, unable to keep up her angry façade any longer.
She took a step toward him, bridging the space between them as she leaned up on her toes to kiss him.
Wolfe returned her kiss, his hand cupping the side of her face as he made a low humming sound of appreciation.
“What was that for?” he asked once she’d pulled away again, his voice soft as he looked into her eyes.
“That,” Shelby replied, her voice just as soft, “was for coming back.”
Wolfe smiled, his dark eyes practically smoldering.
“I tried to leave, but I just couldn’t,” he said, his lips twisting into a dry smile as he winked at her. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now, Shelby River.”
“Fine by me,” Shelby said, reaching up to wrap her arms back around his neck—flowers and all—as she kissed him again.
Wolfe made her squeal in surprise as he suddenly scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he began to walk back toward the cabin. He chuckled at her flustered expression, but she quickly silenced him with another kiss.
Wolfe carried her into the cabin, the melody of “Hard Candy Christmas” filling the air as he kicked the door shut behind them.
By the Fire
Vivan Lux
Chapter 1
Cole
When I was a kid, the mountains that closed in around our small town seemed to touch the sky.
But now, as I looked at them from the back of my hired car, they seemed as small as anthills.
I blinked, convinced I was seeing them wrong. The memory I held of my hometown was as clear as crystal, but now that I was back, there was a tug of war in my head, a battle between my memories and the realities that were facing me down. “Were they always that tiny?” I wondered out loud.
The divider slid down. “What was that, sir?” the driver asked.
“Nothing,” I sighed, sitting back on the sumptuous leather. Then I leaned forward again. “Do those mountains look big to you?” I needed to know if I was going crazy or not.
“Mountains, sir?”
“The mountains!” I gestured at the snow-covered landscape. Flakes danced in the air, swirling thick and fast. Though the sun still glimmered through patches in the dark clouds, I could feel the heaviness in the air. This was going to be a bad storm. “Those mountains, you see? All around us?”
Reckless Falls, New York was a reliable provider of white Christmases, and this year proved to be no exception. It was Christmas Eve, and the ground already had a good eight inches on it. Up in the mountains-turned-hills, it was probably a foot deep already, and the snow hung thick on the branches of the pines, making each tree look like it was dressed up for the holidays. The thought made me smile with unexpected nostalgia. There was nothing quite like my hometown to get you in the Christmas spirit.
The driver stopped at the lone stoplight in the center of town and looked out of his window. “Mountains sir? I see some hills, sir. Over there? And there also, right? Is that what you’re wondering?”
Hills. They were as small as they seemed then.
Something inside of me deflated and I felt a flutter of something unfamiliar in my stomach. I didn’t recognize it because I’d never felt it before, but at the same time, I started wondering....
Was I wrong?
Of course not. I’m never wrong.
“Hills. Of course,” I sighed. “Those are definitely hills. No question.”
That the mountains were small was only one disappointment. There was also the matter of there being absolutely no one out and about to see me arrive in this top-of-the-line car with my company-provided driver. Yeah sure, I didn’t really believe that there would be crowds out there on the sidewalk, waving flags to greet the return of their hometown hero. That kind of shit doesn’t happen in real life. Unless you’re coming home from war. And while the corner office sometimes felt like a war zone, the fact was, my life was nothing people rolled out parades to honor.
On the other hand, though, my homecoming was probably the most important event this town had seen in months. Possibly years. Maybe just a banner across Main Street, “Welcome To Reckless Falls, Birthplace of Cole Granger.”
I’m not picky. That would have been just enough. That would have been acceptable. I couldn’t help looking out the window. Just to check.
“Shit, they knocked down the IGA?”
“The what sir?”
I had no idea why I was so exasperated. “The old grocery store,” I barked.
“Sir, I’ve never been here before in my life.”
I leaned back in my seat. “Course not.” I settled in and pulled out my phone, busying myself with emails from the office to distract from the worryingly unfamiliar town that rolled by the windows. The little flutters of misgiving in my stomach became more intense. When the parcel of lakefront opened up, I convinced my board to let me handle the negotiations. After all, I knew this town. Crotchety old Mr. Melton would deal better with a hometown hero than he would with a stuffed suit from the city.
Never mind that I’d also become a stuffed suit from the city. Somehow. Not really sure how that happened.
Was I wrong about this deal? I couldn’t be wrong. I had staked my reputation at the firm as some kind of real estate wunderkind. Cole Granger had an animal’s instinct when it came to sniffing out undervalued properties for development. At the Ledgerwood Properties Group, the New York City firm I had belonged to since I graduated with top marks from the Wharton Business School, I had been pushing to lay claim to properties upstate. The New York City real estate market was so overvalued, it was next to impossible to turn big profits. Big profits meant big bonuses, and I needed those bonuses to fund the lifestyle I had grown accustomed to.
&
nbsp; When the Melton property came up for sale, I jumped on it. It was perfect, undeveloped waterfront in a growing vacation hotspot. Reckless Falls was already undergoing yuppification, moving from a low-key family vacation spot to sporting million dollar properties along the southern end of the lake. Melton’s Marina and Repairs was one of the last big pieces of waterfront left. Split it into parcels for condos and retail and we’d make a fortune. I truly believed that when I was sitting in my Manhattan office, dreaming about the deal.
“Let me handle this,” I told the board, smiling the megawatt smile that sealed all of my deals. “Listen, I went to high school with Mr. Melton’s granddaughter,” I told them, neglected follow up with exactly what my relationship was to Mr. Melton’s granddaughter. “He’ll remember me,” I said instead. And when it turned out that the old man had demurred, asking if he could send a family representative instead, I knew for certain that I was a shoo-in. “I’m a local, I know how these people work,” I encouraged the board. “Just send me upstate and I’ll take care of everything.”
The stuffy, white-haired board members had looked confused - collectively befuddled by the idea of moving their investments outside of Manhattan - but ultimately decided that I was right. So they voted to let the new guy, the kid as they called me, take care of this deal. If it went well, I could be start building a whole portfolio of properties. I started designing my business card in my head right then and there, Cole Granger, Director of Upstate Opportunity. I shook their hands and I promised them there was a whole world out there, off their little neon island. A world that was ripe for exploiting.
Did I say exploiting? I meant improving.
And now here I was. Heading home for the holidays. I’d shake a few hands, slap a few backs and remind everyone of how much they’d missed having me around. Stop by and see my brother, who still stubbornly stayed here, acting as caretaker for our family home even though our parents had fled to their Florida retirement home last year. Maybe hang around, see if I could get myself invited to a few Christmas parties. I knew Mr. Melton well enough to know that he wouldn’t take kindly to me just showing up at his front door out of the blue. But if I came home for the holidays and just happened to have time to talk business? There’s no way he could say no.
