Second Chances: A Small Town Love Story

by A. J. Wynter

  “No kidding. I mean, nobody here has even seen you before. There were rumors about the owner of Seventeen Sugar Peaks Way and I mean, I think that the whole town is a little disappointed that you aren’t actually George Clooney, or a mob boss, or a—”

  “She gets the point, Freddie,” Josh interrupted. “There have been plenty of rumors flying around about you, but now that you’re here and actively involved in the town you can set them all straight.

  Megan cleared her throat. She didn’t know what to say that wasn’t going to be an all out lie. “Sure can,” her voice wavered. She was falling for Josh, what was he going to say when he found out that she wasn’t a rich real estate developer? Her heart jumped into her throat as the question came up. Is that why he’s spending so much time with me? The thought hadn’t crossed her mind, but of course. The small-town boys thought that she was a rich mover and shaker from the city.

  “Speaking of celebrities, is your brother coming to town for Christmas?” Josh said to Freddie.

  “He’ll be here, with his new supermodel girlfriend.”

  “Fun,” Josh said. “Will this one go outside when it’s snowing?”

  “Who knows?” Freddie replied and collapsed the extension ladder. He tossed the set of snips he’d been holding in his hand into the toolbox on the ground. “I don’t even bother learning their names anymore, he gets bored with them so fast now.”

  “Well, I’m sure your mom will be happy to have both of her boys home.”

  “Oh, she’s already planned a dinner party to show him off. You two should come.”

  Megan looked at Josh and he looked back at her, “Well, I guess that depends on Megan. Are you interested in meeting Logan Brush?”

  “Logan who?” Megan had never heard of him.

  “That’s a no then, Freddie. Thanks for the invite though.”

  “Don’t worry. You can still go to the public skate with Logan, although it will be packed. I’m sure my mom will send you some leftovers.” Freddie picked up his toolbox. “See you guys tomorrow.”

  “Bye, Freddie,” both Megan and Josh chimed in unison and watched him trudge off down the sidewalk.

  “Who is Logan Brush?” Megan asked as she admired a poinsettia wreath in the frosted window of the florist shop.

  “He played hockey in the NHL. A little of a hometown hero here. His team won the Stanley Cup and he brought it here one summer. All the hockey kids in town lost their minds, Logan Brush is bigger than any movie star here.

  Josh stopped and looked at the wreath in the window. “Is that a poinsettia?”

  “It is. It sure is pretty,” Megan said.

  “Sure is,” Josh replied, but Megan noticed that he wasn’t looking at the florist shop at all.

  “I could use a drink,” Megan said quickly.

  “Me too. I think it’s time for you to visit the Last Chance.”

  “Is it the only place to get a drink in town?”

  “It’s the only place for locals,” Josh smiled and pulled open the medieval style door.

  “What about Timber? Are we just going to leave him tied up outside here? Won’t he get cold?”

  “First of all, Timber is a husky. He loves the winter and snow, but secondly, he can come in with us.”

  “What, into the bar?”

  “Yeah,” Josh said. “You’re going in, and we’re not heating the outdoors here...” He was holding the door to the bar wide open.

  Megan peered into the darkness, took a deep breath, and stepped into the bar. All of the tables were full of men either wearing work clothes or snowmobile suits, their hair messy from wearing hats or helmets all day long. The bar smelled like stale beer and body odor.

  “Is it always this packed at four p.m?” she asked.

  “Yep,” Josh said and sidled up to the bar. He pulled out a bar stool for Meg and took a seat beside her. “The guys are just getting off work, or in from a day on the sleds. The busiest time of the day, actually.”

  “Hi, Josh.” The bartender leaned against the bar. “What can I get you?”

  “What’s the small batch of the day?” he asked.

  “It’s an IPA – Bonecrusher they’re calling it.”

  “I’ll take one of those.”

  “And for the lady?” the young bartender smiled at Megan. Was every young man in this town impossibly good looking? He was cute in a disheveled mountain man kind of way. She squinted past the jar of pickled eggs, trying to make out the writing on the blackboard. She had been avoiding getting her eyes examined, and either the writing was impossibly blurry, or she needed reading glasses. When she couldn’t make out the menu she just muttered, “I’ll take what he’s having.”

  “That’ll put some hair on your chest,” the bartender laughed. “You’ve got a keeper there Josh.”

  “She’s my boss,” he said a little too quickly.

  “I wish my boss looked like that,” the young man muttered under his breath. He tossed a couple of coasters onto the worn bar and plunked down two of the most orange-looking beers Megan had ever seen.

  “Cheers,” Josh raised his glass. “To Megan—Megan, what’s your last name?” he asked, holding his beer stein in mid-air.

  “Snodg—” Megan started but then corrected herself, “it’s Brittle. Megan Brittle.”

  “To Megan Brittle’s inaugural tour of Chance Rapids.”

  “To my tour guide,” Megan replied, clinking her glass against Josh’s. She took a sip and the hoppiness of the beer caught her off guard. “Wow,” she said through a sputter.

  “It’s pretty strong. Do you want something different?” Josh asked.

  “No, it’s just something I’ve never tried before. I’d like to give it a chance,” Megan said, taking another sip. This time noticing subtle floral hints. “It’s actually pretty good.”

  “They have all the domestic beers you could want here, but Charlie,” Josh nodded to the bartender, “has started his own craft beer brewery. There’s a new batch every week.”

  “Want to know the secret?” Charlie asked as he polished beer glasses.

  “I do. But then would you have to kill me?” Megan replied.

  Charlie chuckled. “It’s the water. Chance Rapids has the best water in the state. You couldn’t make a beer this good anywhere else.”

  The startling contrast of the trendy craft beer being served in the diviest bar Megan had ever seen was shocking. She looked around the room and noticed a brass pole in the back. “Is this a strip club?”

  “Only on Tuesday’s,” Josh laughed.

  Megan made a mental note to talk to Charlotte about getting Charlie’s small batch beer into the café, or, her mind began to whirr a mile a minute, or talk to her about opening a craft beer bar. This beer was too good to be served alongside pickled eggs, dog fur, and stripper poles.

  “So, Megan Brittle...”

  “Josh...What’s your last name?” She interrupted.

  “Johnson. I was J.J. growing up.”

  “It suits you, J.J.” Megan took another sip of her beer and could feel the alcohol going straight to her head.

  “Why did you decide to finally invest some money into Chance Rapids?”

  Had she gone too far with the façade? Could she tell him now and get away with the tale Charlotte had woven? She decided to tell the truth, as best as she could.

  “My marriage fell apart. I needed something to get my mind off the fact that my life had just crumbled around me.” Truth.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Josh said. “It sounds like it was hard on you.”

  “It was hard. I mean, it’s all that I had known for fifteen years.”

  “Zeesh, you got married young,” Josh replied.

  “Not really, I was twenty-eight.”

  Megan could see Josh running the numbers. “So, you’re what, forty-three then?”

  “Your math skills are stellar Mr. Johnson.” Megan’s heart sank.

  Josh took a sip of his beer, his eyes gazing at Megan o
ver the top of the glass. Megan also took a sip, unsure of what to say next, her snarky comment hanging heavily between them.

  “I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, but I didn’t think that you were in your forties,” Josh said and reached his hand to cup her cheek. Megan felt her face flush red with his touch, “I was guessing thirty-five – and you’ve got a little foam on your lip there.” He brushed the foam off her lips with his thumb before bringing it to his own to suck it off.

  It was such a practical and fleeting touch that somehow turned extremely sensual. Megan felt a whoosh as adrenaline surged through her body and landed like a fiery ball in her lower abdomen. She wanted to feel Josh’s hand on her body again.

  “That didn’t come out the wrong way, thank you, I think.” Megan took another sip of her beer, willing the conversation to take a turn away from their nine-year age gap.

  “People in town are excited about your café. It looks like you’re doing everything right so far, hiring local tradespeople was a smart move. Do you still think you’re going to have the doors open by the fifteenth?”

  “It will be tight.” Megan leaned back on her bar stool. “If the drywallers get things done on time we should be able to get the painters in and the kitchen installed. Should I be worried about the furniture maker?”

  “He always gets things done. But it never hurts to buy him another beer.”

  “Bartender,” Megan raised her hand, “two more.”

  Charlie poured two more pints and set them in front of Megan and Josh.

  “It’s a work day tomorrow,” Josh smiled and finished off his first beer before taking a sip of his next.

  “Well, let’s call this a business meeting then.”

  Josh tipped an invisible hat at Megan. “Roger that, boss.”

  They sat sipping their hoppy beers and discussing the job. Megan had set up interviews for the staff for the following day and Josh seemed to know all the people who had applied. “I know that you will make the right decision for the café, but if you need the insider’s scoop on any of these people, you come to me. There are quite a few weirdos in this town, and they’re good at hiding it.”

  “Is one of them sitting with me right now?” Megan smiled wryly.

  “Maybe, but a few of them just walked in.”

  Megan heard a rowdy group of men burst into the bar. They were wearing matching search and rescue jackets and hats, all but one – Freddie.

  “What’s his story?” Megan asked.

  “Who, Fred?” Josh waved at the group of men and a few of them came over and clapped him on the back and said hi on their way to the big table in the center of the bar. “He’s a born and raised Rapidian. Went to high school here. Kind of grew up in his older brother’s shadow though. Freddie went into ski racing and Logan focused on hockey. Freddie was the best skier on the mountain and an Olympic hopeful, but he couldn’t stop crashing and tearing his ACL. He either won the race or crashed out.”

  “That’s actually kind of sad.” Megan watched the young man and for the first time noticed his limp as he made his way to sit with the group of men.

  Josh laughed. “Don’t you start feeling sorry for Freddie, that guy is doing just fine. He loves his job and doesn’t have any problems with the ladies. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised that he hasn’t hit on you yet.”

  “Maybe I’m not his type.”

  “Oh, trust me. He doesn’t have a type,” Josh laughed.

  “Hey,” Megan said and playfully punched Josh in the arm.

  “Shit. That’s not what I meant,” Josh replied and then smiled wryly, “I may have told him to stay away from the boss.”

  Megan looked at Josh, her mind racing. “Well, thank you. I appreciate that,” she said. However, what she really wanted to know is whether Josh told Freddie to back off because she was the boss, or because he wanted her for himself?

  Freddie sauntered over to the bar and ordered a pitcher of Budweiser and leaned into Josh, “Business meeting?”

  “You know it,” Josh laughed. “Did you miss Search and Rescue Practice?”

  “Well, you know, town emergency, the Christmas Carols were shorting out. That took priority over practicing ropes skills.”

  “Did they take out the chopper?” Josh asked.

  “Too much weather,” Freddie poured beer into his glass and took a sip. “Didn’t miss much. The guys are still wondering when you’re going to come back.”

  Josh looked over at the group of men and Megan thought that she saw a look of longing in his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve got the time, you know, with this new project. The boss is a real ball-buster.”

  “Hey,” Megan laughed. “Were you part of this Search and Rescue gang?”

  Freddie interrupted. “He was the captain. The best guy the Chance Rapids SAR has ever had.”

  “He’s exaggerating. He just wants me back on the squad.”

  “Everybody does, buddy. Everybody does.”

  Then Freddie did something that seemed out of character, he reached his arm around Josh and squeezed his shoulders in a side hug.

  “Maybe this year, Freddie.”

  Freddie turned to face Josh, a huge grin on his face, “Really J.J? I’ll go tell the guys now.”

  Freddie started to walk away but Josh grabbed his arm. “Don’t say anything to the squad just yet. That was just a thought.”

  “Ok, bud. Well, when you’re ready you know that the crew will be waiting for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How’s the tour going?” Freddie turned to Megan.

  “It’s great. I’ve eaten a beaver’s tail, toured the main street, and am now getting drunk in a part-time strip club.”

  Freddie guffawed, “Josh has captured the essence of the town to a T. But there’s something missing from that tour.”

  “Oh yeah, and what’s that?” Josh’s voice had a hint of warning in it.

  “You mean to tell me that you’ve had this gorgeous woman on your arm all afternoon and she hasn’t done a shot ski yet?”

  “What’s a shot ski?”

  “It’s a Tuesday.” Josh turned away from Freddie. “It’s 4:30 on a Tuesday.”

  “What’s a shot ski?” Megan repeated.

  Freddie stood on the bar rail and leaned across the bar to pull a ski off the wall. There were four shot glasses glued to the top of it. He grinned. “A shot. Ski.”

  Josh grabbed the ski from Freddie’s hands. “You usually do this after skiing, you know après-ski, not après-work.”

  Freddie held his hands up in front of him. “You want to give her the whole Chance Rapids experience, don’t you?”

  “Maybe I should take her skiing first.” Josh put the ski back in its rightful place on the wall.

  Megan felt her head start to spin and wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the thought of strapping skis to her feet.

  “No.” Megan practically leaped off her barstool to grab the shot ski from the wall. “Let’s do it now.”

  “Are you sure?” Josh looked at her and she swore there was concern in his eyes.

  “Yep.” Megan was damn sure that she could handle one shot of alcohol if it was her get out of jail pass from actually going skiing.

  “Alright. A shot ski it is.” Freddie whooped. “Charlie. Maple whiskey.” He shouted to the bartender.

  Charlie poured the amber liquid into the four shot glasses and the three of them lined up in front of the ski. Freddie turned and yelled to his group of friends, “Shot ski.”

  A young shaggy-haired guy jumped up from the table and jogged over. “I knew you’d be the first guy over here,” Freddie said to the fresh-faced blonde kid who looked like he couldn’t be a day over twenty-one. “This is Ethan,” Freddie said, and Ethan shook Megan’s hand. “You’re in the presence of snowboarding royalty right here,” Josh said to Megan and then to Ethan, “Nice to see you. You home for the holidays?”

  “Yeah,” Ethan drawled. “My exams are all done and I’m helpin
g the mountain set up the half-pipe and terrain park. Let’s do this,” Ethan rubbed his hands together.

  “How do we do it?” Megan asked eyeing up the contraption.

  “Get in position and we’ll knock it back on three,” Freddie explained.

  Megan stood in front of the shot ski, feeling mildly ridiculous, but enjoying the camaraderie she was feeling with the town locals. On three Josh and Freddie lifted the ski and the sugary shot of fiery alcohol slid past Megan’s lips and down her throat. She coughed and felt her eyes start to water.

  The dizzy feeling returned, and Megan knew that it wasn’t trepidation about the shot ski. She was properly drunk. On a Tuesday.

  “Come and join us.” Freddie put his arms around both Josh and Megan. Josh shot Megan a look and she nodded.

  They pulled some extra chairs up to the crowded Search and Rescue table and Josh and Megan joined the rowdy group. They were squished in between Ethan and a guy named Ralph, and Megan felt her breath hitch when her leg brushed against Josh’s but chalked the touch up to their proximity, but when she felt Josh’s hand on her thigh, she knew that the leg brush hadn’t been accidental. She pressed her thigh against his and felt his press back in return. Megan placed her hand on her own thigh beside Josh’s hand and let her pinky finger press against his. His wound around hers in response. She swooned inside.

  They sat with their baby fingers intertwined in a secret pinky swear, while the guys at the table regaled Megan with stories about the various rescues that had happened in the last few years. She was shocked and impressed by the skill and dedication that the men had to their volunteer cause. Sitting there laughing with a table of strangers, alongside Josh, felt like one of the most natural things that she had ever done. Even though she was completely out of her element, she felt something she had never felt before. She felt like she belonged there.

  From what Megan could gather, there was a mechanic, a snowcat driver, an accountant, a professional snowboarder, and a lawyer all sitting together at the table. An unlikely group of characters all drawn together for the love of the mountains and helping people. Megan couldn’t help but think about how unlikely it would be for this cast of characters to all sit and laugh together in the city.