Snow Way Out: A Mystic Snow Globe Romantic Mystery (The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series Book 2)

by M. Z. Andrews

Evanee sighed. She wasn’t being honest with him, and she wasn’t being honest with herself. She knew it. He knew it. Why couldn’t she just open up about it?

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “For what?”

  She shrugged. “You know, growing up, I had this ideal image in my head of what my adult life was supposed to look like. I was going to live a fairy-tale life. I was going to be a princess, and I was going to marry a prince and we were going to live happily ever after.”

  “Don’t all little girls think like that?” asked Lane.

  “Do they?” Evanee shrugged.

  “Disney sure seems to think so.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I suppose that’s what we’re trained to think.”

  “But fairy-tale lives look different to different people.”

  Nodding, she smiled softly. “I suppose.”

  Lane thought about it for a moment, and then spoke again. “So lemme get this straight. You’re telling me that when you imagined your life, you never imagined falling for a farmer. Is that what you’re saying?”

  Evanee felt her face heating up. It was almost embarrassing to hear out loud. She sounded like a snob. “When you say it like that, it sounds terrible.”

  Lane shook his head. “That’s because it is terrible.”

  “Really?”

  “I don’t know. Is it terrible that I grew up my whole life thinking someday I’d be married to a woman who loved the outdoors as much as I do? They’d want to sit outside and have nightcaps snuggling by a fire. They’d enjoy four-wheeling and like chickens and growing pumpkins, just like I do. I never imagined for a second it would be some hoity-toity city gal that did all that.”

  Evanee’s throat went dry. “You… you thought all that about your future wife?” she finally managed to choke out.

  Lane shrugged and took a sip of his wine. “I don’t know. It’s what I want. Of course, I’m a guy, and I haven’t ever given it much thought until now. There haven’t been many women around Stoney Brook that’ve made me even think about a future with them, much less what I might want in a wife.”

  “So what changed?”

  “I don’t know, I suppose lots of things have changed.” He shrugged. “You know, to be honest, I haven’t ever thought much about marriage because it makes me think about my folks. Their marriage was cut short, and I never knew much about women because I lost my mom at such a young age. I grew up with a father that was basically ostracized from his community. He never dated. He never fell in love again. And I’ll be honest, all of that made things hard.”

  “I bet,” she whispered, her heart lodged in her throat.

  He nodded. “I always felt like the odd man out, you know. I never had a normal childhood. I always felt like people didn’t approve of my father, and of course I didn’t have a mom. I didn’t like the idea of people taking pity on me. So I kind of put up this hard shell and shut everyone out. When you do that, it’s hard to think about marriage. Hell, it’s hard to think about any kind of relationship.”

  “I’m so sorry, Lane. I hate what all this has done to you.”

  Lane finished off the rest of his wine. He set his mug down on the end table and then stood up and walked over to the love seat Evanee sat on. He moved her legs over and sat down next to her.

  Evanee’s heart raced, just feeling him that much closer to her.

  “Here’s what I think,” he said quietly. “I think that if it’s true that everything in life happens for a reason, then all of this happened because I was destined to meet you.”

  She looked up at him thoughtfully. “You think so?”

  He scooted a little bit closer to her on the sofa.

  She could smell his cologne. It filled her nose with its rustic, manly scent.

  “I do. And I think that’s also why I’m single. And why you’re single. And why you pulled out a map one day and pointed at Windham County, Vermont. Everything happened for a reason, Evanee.”

  She swallowed hard as his face moved closer to hers. “There sure are a lot of coincidences,” she whispered. Her chest heaved up and down rapidly as her breathing quickened.

  When his face was just a breath away from hers, he whispered to her. “I may not be some Disney prince in a fairy tale, Evanee, but I’ll gladly slay dragons for you.” His eyes moved to her lips then, telegraphing his intent.

  Knowing full well what was coming, she didn’t try to stop it. Instead, her eyelids fluttered closed.

  Lane tilted her face towards his, and then the soft touch of his mouth was on hers. He tasted sweet like the wine they’d just shared. He sucked her bottom lip before invading her mouth, devouring her like a delectable dessert. His hands snaked their way into her hair then, pulling her in closer to him. Evanee had never been kissed like that before. Like she was badly needed—wanted.

  And then, just as quickly as the kiss had begun and before she knew what was happening, Lane untangled himself and pulled his mouth off hers.

  Her eyes popped open and she stared at him. What had just happened?

  “You have a decision to make, Ev. But I can’t make it for you.” He stood up and looked down at her. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Wait, you’re leaving?” she asked, sitting up straighter, wishing he’d sit back down and finish what he’d started.

  “We’ll go see Calvin together tomorrow. I’ll pick you up.”

  “But I have festival practice tomorrow,” she said weakly. “At six.”

  “I’ll be here at a quarter till, then. I’ll take you to practice and pick you up. When it’s over, we’ll go see Calvin.”

  “Lane, wait,” she called out to him.

  He turned to look at her. “Yeah?”

  She told herself she didn’t know why she’d called after him, but she did know. She wanted him to tell him to come back. Both her heart and body now longed for him, but did that mean her mind was willing to forgo her childhood image of the perfect fairy-tale ending just to follow her heart?

  She smiled at him. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Ev.”

  32

  The next morning, Woods Rustic Wares was busier than ever. Leaf peepers and festivalgoers from all around had begun to invade the small community in preparation for the Renaissance Festival parade the next day.

  Evanee and Gemma buzzed around the shop all morning, helping customers select the perfect souvenirs to take home, selling pumpkins, and filling the locals and tourists alike with pumpkin spice lattes, salted caramel mochas, and maple pecan muffins. It wasn’t until two thirty that there was finally a lull in the action, and as Evanee and Gemma wiped the counters and the little café tables, they finally had a chance to actually catch up.

  “Are you getting excited about the festival this weekend?” asked Gemma as she rinsed her rag out in the sink behind the counter.

  Evanee sighed. “Really, I’m just an extra body to help fill out the town. The real actors and actresses are part of the community theater. They’ve been practicing for months. All I have to do is to stand in the town square and carry a basket of flowers around. Men can buy the flowers for their wives and girlfriends. Easy peasy. But honestly, Gem, I’ve been so busy this week that I haven’t even had time to think about the festival.”

  Gemma looked at Evanee curiously. “Busy? What’ve you been up to?”

  Evanee leaned back against the counter. “I’ve been helping Lane.”

  “Still?” bellowed Gemma, her blue eyes wide.

  “Yes, still. We’re getting closer to the truth.”

  Gemma shook her head. “Matthew said he was going to have a talk with Lane. He doesn’t like you getting involved.”

  “I’m sorry, Gem, but Matthew has nothing to do with this. He’s not my husband, he’s not my brother, and he’s not my father. And even if he was any of those things, I wouldn’t listen to him. This is something I’ve committed to doing, and I’m going to do it.”

  Gemma lowered her brows and looked at Evane
e curiously. “Why is it so important to you to help Lane Dawson? Are you sure you two don’t have something going on that you aren’t telling me about?”

  Evanee held her breath. She didn’t know what to say to that. On Monday, Evanee would have said no way, there was nothing. But after the kiss the night before? Evanee wasn’t so sure.

  “Ev!” breathed Gemma, moving in closer to the tall brunette. “You like him.”

  Evanee winced. “Well, of course I like him. I like him like I like you.”

  Gemma’s head shook slowly. “No, you like him like I like Matthew.”

  Evanee looked offended. “No, I don’t!”

  “You do! I can see it in your eyes!”

  Evanee turned around so Gemma couldn’t see her eyes anymore. “You can’t see anything, Gem.”

  Gemma turned her best friend around. “I can see it, Evanee. When did this happen?”

  Evanee slumped forward. Gemma was already on to her, and she didn’t want to hide it anymore. She needed someone besides Whitley and Esmerelda to talk to about it. “He kissed me last night,” she whispered, careful not to let the little old ladies browsing in the back of the shop hear her.

  “Lane kissed you!”

  “Shhhh,” hissed Evanee. “Tell the whole town, why don’t you?”

  “Sorry,” Gemma whispered back. “Lane kissed you?”

  Evanee let out a sigh and nodded. “Yeah. Last night.”

  “Where?”

  She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “On my patio. We started a bonfire.”

  “Not where on the planet, silly.” Gemma rolled her eyes. “Where on your body? Was it like a forehead kiss or something, or was it like a full-on mouth, tongue, kind of kiss?”

  “No, it was a mouth kiss,” said Evanee. She touched her lips as the memory of the night before made her smile. “It was kind of romantic.”

  Gemma’s mouth gaped open as her head slowly shook. “Was that the first time?”

  “Yeah. He, uh… I think he tried to kiss me the other night after we went four-wheeling, but there was a distraction and then it didn’t happen.”

  Gemma’s mouth hung open. “Ev! You didn’t tell me you went four-wheeling with Lane Dawson!”

  “Do I have to tell you everything?”

  “Yes!”

  Evanee laughed. “Sorry, Gem. I’ve had a lot going on. Between trying to solve the mystery behind his mother’s death, and the shop’s been busy, and yoga, and the Renaissance Festival stuff… we just haven’t had a chance to talk about it.”

  Gemma rolled her eyes. “Bull. We’ve had time. You just haven’t wanted to talk about it. So, gimme the scoop. You like him?”

  Evanee leaned forward onto her elbows on the counter, sticking her butt up behind her. “I do like him. He’s a nice guy. He’s got a bit of a temper, but he always manages to get it under control when he has a minute to cool off. He’s sweet and funny and, oh my gosh, he’s an amazing kisser.”

  Gemma’s eyes brightened. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” said Evanee, smiling. “I must admit he checks a lot of my boxes.”

  “So are you guys a thing now?”

  Evanee sighed. “I don’t know, Gem. I told him about my fairy-tale fantasy.”

  Gemma’s hands palmed either side of her face as her mouth dropped open. “Oh, Ev! Tell me you didn’t!”

  “Am I supposed to lie to him?”

  “Well, what did you say? That he wasn’t a prince? I mean, how rude is that? That makes you sound so stuck-up!”

  Evanee shrugged. “But it’s the truth. I’m not gonna lie. I’ve always pictured my life turning out a certain way. I’ve broken up with some decent guys over the years because I didn’t see them fitting into my fantasy.”

  “Maybe you think that’s why you broke up with them, but maybe the real reason you broke up with them is because you didn’t feel any electricity with them. Can you feel the electricity with Lane?”

  Evanee smiled shyly. She definitely felt the sparks. “Look, am I just supposed to abandon everything I saw for myself because I felt a spark when some guy kissed me?”

  “Everything you envisioned for yourself is a fantasy, Ev. Don’t you get it? You’re thirty years old and single because you’re chasing a fantasy. Lane is a good man. And you said yourself that he’s sweet and funny and that he checks a lot of your boxes. What more do you want?”

  Evanee sighed. “I don’t know. I just want a perfect life. You know? I want the perfect man, and the perfect house, and the perfect kids. Is that so wrong? To be in search of perfection?”

  Gemma’s head bounced up and down. “Yes! That is wrong! Perfection isn’t real, Evanee. It’s an illusion. It’s fake. Other people want you to believe that their lives are perfect, but they aren’t. People make mistakes. People are flawed. Those people with the picture-perfect houses on Instagram? That picture was taken on cleaning day, not on a Wednesday night when the kitchen’s a mess because Mom burned dinner and had to order a pizza, and the toddler spilled Cheerios all over the linoleum, and Dad tromped mud across the new rug. It’s a snapshot of the most perfect moment of the week. Not the norm!”

  “But—”

  But Gemma wasn’t done. “And the ones with smiling, perfect kids all the time? Those kids were probably fighting before the picture and their mother had to bribe them all with a treat to smile nice at the same time. But do people post those kinds of things on Instagram? No! People just want everyone to think their lives are perfect, but that’s just not real. But that doesn’t mean that happiness doesn’t exist. It just means that princes live in fairy-tale books, and good men live in the real world.”

  “I know, Gem…”

  “No, you don’t, Ev. You don’t. You’re never going to be happy if you keep chasing this ridiculous fantasy. You have a good man right in front of you. If your heart connects with him, you’d be silly to walk away from that.”

  Evanee shrugged. “I hear what you’re saying, Gem. I’ll give it some thought.”

  “Don’t take too long. You don’t want Lane Dawson to be the one that got away because you had your head stuck up your butt.”

  “Gemma!”

  Gemma shrugged and walked away. “Just sayin’.”

  “Evanee! You’re back. Oh, good, that means we didn’t scare you away last time,” said Bluebell Adams as Evanee reemerged from Lane Dawson’s truck carrying a homemade apple pie in one hand and a lasagna in the other.

  “I am back, and this time I brought food,” she said, slamming the truck door with her heel.

  “How long are you gonna be, Ev?” Lane hollered out the window.

  “I don’t know. Stop back around seven thirty?” she suggested with a shrug. She was thankful she’d had her dishes to concentrate on and that the drive had been short. She hadn’t had time to talk to Lane about that kiss before he’d dropped her off at city hall.

  He nodded. “Will do.” As he backed out of his parking spot, he gave Bluebell a nod. “Ma’am.”

  Bluebell wiggled her fingers at him as he drove away. “Oh my goodness, that man looks just like his father.”

  “Hello, Evanee,” said Ace, coming out of the city hall building. “Can I take those for you?”

  “You can take the lasagna,” said Evanee, thankful to unload one of the dishes. She handed him the throwaway aluminum dish and then turned to Bluebell as Ace took the lasagna inside. “I spoke to Lane about the wedding.”

  Bluebell’s eyes lit up as a smile of excitement covered her face. “Did you? What did he say?”

  Evanee felt a wave of nausea set in in the pit of her stomach as she reported back to Bluebell. Suddenly she really didn’t want to do it, but she felt obligated to. “He said he’d be happy to be Gracie’s date.”

  Bluebell clapped her hands together beneath her chin. “Oh, that’s amazing news! Gracie is going to be ecstatic! Thank you, Evanee. You’re such a doll.”

  Evanee gave her a tight smile. “No problem.”

  “Oh! Before y
ou leave, I’ve got something for you.” Bluebell rushed around to the side of her vehicle and plucked an envelope out of her purse and handed it to Evanee.

  Evanee looked down at the envelope. “What’s this?”

  “Lane’s invitation to the wedding. So he knows the date and time. I’ll have Gracie get in touch with him when it gets a little closer so they can make arrangements, but he’s going to want to get that on his calendar. Please tell him it is a black-tie affair, so hopefully he owns a suit.”

  “Oh, I don’t know…”

  Bluebell held out a hand to shush her. “Now, if he doesn’t have one, you just let me know. I’ll get something ordered from him. I don’t think it’s too late to get that put in with the groomsmen’s order, but I’d have to know fairly soon.”

  Evanee suddenly wondered if she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life. What if Lane took one look at the young and beautiful Gracie Adams and decided that she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with? The thought made Evanee sick to her stomach. What in the world had she done?

  She forced a fake smile on her face and nodded. “Sure, Bluebell. Don’t worry, I’ll tell Lane.”

  33

  Lane struggled to keep his emotions in check as he drove to pick Evanee up from festival practice. The meeting with Calvin Lancaster weighed heavily on his mind, but equally significant was the memory of the kiss he’d shared with Evanee the night before.

  Her lips were the softest he’d ever touched. Not that there had been a lot of lips touching his over the years. He’d never had a serious girlfriend. He’d had a few dates in his lifetime, but he’d never felt about any of them the way he suddenly found himself feeling about Evanee Woods. He loved her tenaciousness. He loved her willingness to try new things and her carefree spirit. He loved the way she looked in the multitude of boots and sweater sets she wore. He loved how she treated her cats, and how she patted the tip of her nose with her finger when she was deep in thought. And now he could add to the list that he loved the way her lips felt against his.

  And while he loved the woman’s tenaciousness, the fact that she clung to some idiotic childhood fantasy of finding a real-life Prince Charming infuriated him. What man could live up to those kinds of expectations? Lane knew he was flawed. He knew he wasn’t Prince Charming. He had a temper. And he chewed tobacco. And he left his dirty laundry all over the floor. And he didn’t always wash his dishes. He had a tendency to curse when the mood struck, and his best friend was a chicken.