Sweet Winter

by Reina M. Williams

  Sweet Winter

  A Montana Matchmakers Short Story

  Reina M. Williams

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to places, establishments, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental and the work of the author’s imagination.

  Copyright © 2021 Reina M. Williams

  rickrackbooks.com

  Cover design via Canva/photo: freestocks.org/Pexels

  All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  First Digital Edition/January 2021

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Irene Molloy placed the last item in her Valentine’s Day window display and stepped back to take in the effect. From Maura’s hand-knit heart mittens to Autumn’s beeswax heart candles, it was a local handicrafts love-fest. Which was what Irene’s shop, Molloy’s Miscellany, was all about: featuring local crafts, along with some other products made in Montana. This time of year, her bottom line was, fittingly, in the red.

  However, that wasn’t the first time, and wouldn’t be the last. Locals simply couldn’t sustain the business, and early February wasn’t a high tourist season. Though her niece, Minnie, was getting the online business in good shape, Irene needed to keep figuring out new ways to diversify her income and profits. Her catering and party-planning business was one way, and that would be seeing some inflow with this year’s weddings, including Minnie’s. First up was Nathan Shepherd’s and Maura Griffin’s Valentine’s Day wedding this weekend. What with having to hire more staff and pay them a living wage, Irene’s own salary was minimal.

  Since she wasn’t open yet, she decided to step outside and view the window. First, she bundled up, since snow still whitened the tops of buildings and frosted the sidewalks and streets of the little town. Once outside, the wind nipped at her exposed skin, probably turning her nose pink. She chafed it with her mittened hand. Edging backward, she nearly toppled over on being bumped by a solid form. Throwing out her arm for balance, she connected with a broad chest.

  “Sorry, you all right,” a deep male voice asked, his hand grasping her arm as if to steady her.

  She turned. And knocked his drink into his chest, brown liquid dribbling down his white shirt and just missing his expensive-looking cashmere coat.

  Gasping, she reached out to try to mitigate the mess, but stopped at the hard chest that greeted her. Tingling legs and weak knees reminded her she was still capable of being attracted to someone. “My turn for apologies,” she got out before being struck silent for a moment at his combo of ice blue eyes and dark hair. “Can I help? I have a washer-dryer in the shop.” She waved her hand to the storefront, careful not to come in contact with him again. Being off-balance wasn’t in her plans today.

  Glancing down, he grimaced. “Thanks, that’d be great.” He tossed his cup in a nearby trash can and followed her into the store. “You must be Irene Molloy? Tim Raines mentioned you.”

  “You know Tim?”

  “We were in high school together, on the same wrestling team. A mentor of mine, you could say; he was two years ahead. He speaks highly of you.”

  She relocked the door and faced her unexpected, and handsome, guest. “The feeling is mutual.”

  So, this man must be back in Loving after some time, this stranger, as she’d lived here fifteen years and hadn’t ever met him. She’d remember him. “Want to give me your shirt? Please, grab another from the rack if you like.”

  A lopsided grin that gave a glimpse of the boy he must’ve been made her insides go soft. She supposed that was slightly better than the sparks that blazed as he disrobed. Just when she was comfortable without a man’s company, in walked this man.

  This half-naked man. Her mouth dropped at the sight of his broad, muscular chest, dotted with dark hairs. Clamping her lips shut, she took his button-down and undershirt and hurried to the back. She rinsed the shirt and started a laundry load.

  He’d put his coat back on and wandered the aisles of the shop. Pulling out a fine-weave local wool fabric polo shirt, he strode to her. “I’ll take this.” He set it on the old wood counter. “Great shop. Supporting local and Montana-made is a growing niche.”

  He sounded like a businessman. But that commonality didn’t distract her from his physicality. From the way he met her gaze to how he filled out his coat, she’d need a fireman in here. But no, hot flashes were as steamy as she needed these days. No sparks of attraction for her. “I don’t do it to be niche. It’s to support my community.”

  “And yourself, I imagine?” He took out his wallet, an obviously expensive buttery-looking caramel leather.

  “Put your wallet away, please. It’s the least I can do. I can also make you another coffee, if you like.” She slipped the shirt off the hanger and began to fold it, hoping her cheeks weren’t showing the heat that rose in her.

  “I’ll put it right on.” He set money on the counter. “You’re already making up for the accident, and yes, coffee, please.”

  She paused. Should she argue about the payment? She supposed a simple accident didn’t mean she needed to give away expensive items. So, she rang up the sale and blew out a relieved breath as the shirt covered the drool-worthy show of his skin. She smirked at her silliness.

  “Thanks.” Now a hot flash too? She poofed a breath toward her forehead.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I buy this brand regularly.”

  She was about to walk away to get coffees when he touched her arm. The sizzle that went through her, despite her skin being covered by her long cardigan, jolted her.

  “I’ve been rude.”

  She blinked and faced him. His eyes were mesmerizing, and there was that grin again. She smiled unwittingly.

  “I haven’t even introduced myself,” he continued. “I’m Wade Davis.”

  “Davis?” Mrs. Davis was one of her favorite people. Irene came out from behind the counter and waved him on to join her in the back, where the coffee waited in the break room. “As in related to Mrs. Betty Davis?” She didn’t know Mrs. Davis had a handsome, middle-aged relative. Not that it mattered. But she suspected the seventy-something town matriarch of matchmaking, and Irene was concerned she might be next on the list. So it was odd this man hadn’t been mentioned.

  He frowned as they stopped in the back room. “She’s my aunt.”

  Wow. She hoped there wasn’t a negative reason he’d never been mentioned. “Surprised I’ve never met you.” Or heard of him.

  He said nothing, so she got out mugs. “Please, have a seat if you like. Black coffee?”

  “Yes, thanks.” He folded his large frame into one of the small club chairs that Irene didn’t have room for in her upstairs apartment. When she’d moved here, it had been from a single-family house.

  She poured them each a cup of coffee, handed him one, and sat in the other chair. “What brings you to town? It’s not high school reunion time.” She knew, because she’d often catered the event.

  Minnie was such a help in those times. The hollow of her niece’s coming absence carved out a bigger space, larger than what would be M
innie’s empty room upstairs.

  “My aunt. But it was Ken Taft who contacted me.”

  “He loves Mrs. D very much.”

  “Love doesn’t always make the best choices.”

  She raised her brows, then realized perhaps he was correct. Many people mistook caring about someone, which could turn dysfunctional, for love. “Then it’s not love. bell hooks has a lot of interesting things to say about love, or what we think of as love.” She sipped the warm brew, her second cup of the day, and relaxed into this unexpected pleasurable moment. She wouldn’t have thought this morning that she’d be sitting cozy with a handsome man discussing a deep topic.

  The back door creaked open, causing Irene to hop up. Fortunately, she only sloshed her coffee. So much for the relaxing moment. Wade stood and held out a hand for her mug, placing them both on the side table.

  “Irene!” Shoot, it was Mrs. Riggs. She just wouldn’t leave Irene alone about her brother, single and back in town after his divorce. “I’ve got Dennis with me!”

  Oh, lordy. She shot Wade a desperate look as an idea formed. Play along, she mouthed by way of a request. He nodded, his full lips quirking at the corners, as footsteps clicked down the hall.

  Irene threw her arms around Wade’s neck and kissed his cheek in such a way that maybe, from a certain angle, it’d look like a lip lock. He played his part so well, holding her waist with his broad hands, that she almost swooned into his arms in a romcom-worthy first kiss.

  “Well,” Mrs. Riggs huffed. “Excuse us.” Her tone sounded as if it were Irene who needed the excusing.

  “Oh, Mrs. Riggs, we’re not open yet.” Irene kept her smile as pleasant as possible. The smile was easy, thanks to Wade, the pleasant toward Mrs. Riggs not so much. “Can I do something for you?”

  The pale, sour-faced woman and her skinny, slick-haired brother stood by the doorway. Mrs. Riggs clutched her black Queen-Elizabeth-style purse to her as if it were a shield and stared at Wade.

  “Wade Davis?” Mrs. Riggs asked, somehow keeping her lips pursed in disapproval.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He stayed close to Irene, his arm hovering behind her back. To Mrs. Riggs, it probably looked as though he half-hugged her.

  Irene almost laughed. Wade couldn’t be more than forty-five to Mrs. Riggs’s fifty. At least he was polite, which Irene was striving to be in the moment. Having Wade this close, she was ready to kick Mrs. Riggs out and get back to their cozy moment. But she had a bottom line to consider.

  “Haven’t seen you in years. What’re you doing here?” Mrs. Riggs narrowed her eyes. Her brother, ignoring them, loped over to the counter and helped himself to a cup of coffee. What a family.

  “Well now, I’m here to see my Irene.”

  She could kiss him again for the way he was guessing her plan. He gripped her hand and she leaned into him, glancing up. Wasn’t a challenge to gaze appreciatively at him, and he too seemed to be enjoying himself, from the sparkle in his eyes to his slight grin.

  “Your Irene? How did you meet?” Mrs. Riggs went straight to interrogation.

  Irene squeezed his hand. “On one of my trips. He’s here to take me to the wedding.” She gazed up at Wade again, an all-too-easy adoring feeling washing over her.

  He brushed his lips on her forehead. “Yep.”

  Heat poured down her body from that small spot he’d caressed. Where was her fan when she needed it?

  “Well, I see.” Mrs. Riggs grabbed her brother’s arm. He set his mug down and went along with his sister’s movement. “I don’t see why you can bring a date, being the help and all.”

  Irene had to bite her tongue to keep from spitting out a sharp retort.

  Wade stiffened. “You can help yourself to the door. Irene cares about people, and she’s a respected businesswoman. Who is too polite to tell you to not darken her door again.” His height and girth seemed to loom in the space and Mrs. Riggs shrank back.

  “Well,” she sniffed out, turning on her heel and stomping out.

  The door slammed and Wade chuckled. “She hasn’t changed.”

  “You’re quite something.” With a drop in her core, she pulled away from him, ruse complete. She’d almost said you’re quite a man, but that would come out too breathless and adoring. Despite how she responded to him, and their easy communication, this wasn’t one of Minnie’s favorite romcoms. Time to get back to reality. “I really appreciate your assistance.”

  “Can’t resist a lady in distress.” He winked. “Do you really need a wedding date?”

  “Need is a strong word.” She sat back down and held the still-warm mug, trying to cool the heat overwhelming her inside. “I knew Mrs. Riggs would try to strong-arm me into asking her brother. I can’t afford to make enemies in this town.”

  “I wouldn’t think the Riggs’s have much effect on your bottom line.”

  “You grew up here, right?” He nodded. “Then you know it’s more than that. It’s the gossip, the lies she’d spread. That and she does order a lot of home décor from me, especially in March and November.”

  “I bet you could make that up. Heck, I’ll order my shirts from you, and for my team, if that’d help. The Riggses don’t have much influence, do they?”

  “They have their friends. They own a business. I try not to antagonize anyone.”

  “I antagonized for you.” His lopsided grin made her smile, despite the fact that he may have gotten her into hot water. His willingness to help soothed that burn.

  She leaned back. He’d done more for her than get her into Lucinda Riggs’s bad books. He’d made her feel sensations she hadn’t in a long time, the way he’d held her, his lips leaving lingering heat on her skin.

  She needed to focus on business, not the pleasures of Wade Davis. “Like I said, I don’t actually need a date. So you’re off the hook.”

  “You know it’ll be a lot worse if I don’t go with you. And you should know our ‘relationship’ will be all over town in an hour.” He sat and drank a gulp of coffee.

  She did know, now. She really hadn’t thought this through. He was a hundred percent right, and being with him felt the same. What had happened to her nice, quiet morning? There wouldn’t be anything quiet about this weekend now.

  Chapter Two

  Wade glanced at the pretty—no, beautiful—woman next to him. Her long brown hair, her delicate features, brought up some sentiment in him he couldn’t place. It was almost uncomfortable, and in another way, so was the heat having her soft curves pressed against him fired. Her scent, some kind of flower...orange blossom, mixed with coffee, went straight through his thick skull. What had he gotten himself into? But how could he resist when she shot him that pleading look, her hazel eyes wide. And then been harassed by no less than Lucinda Riggs, who’d teased, more like tormented, his older sister, Kim, and her friends all through her high school years.

  Irene readjusted her long dark-red sweater. “You’re right. Our ruse will be all over town, maybe even in the next twenty minutes,” she rephrased his statement.

  His mind ticked through some possibilities. “You know, you could do me a favor by continuing this charade.”

  She crossed her legs, shifting toward him. “Oh?”

  He met her gaze. Tim had said she was a kind, trustworthy, respected person, so he might as well confide in her as not. He possibly could use more help than she, if Aunt Betty hadn’t changed. If anything, he assumed she’d gotten craftier over the years in her matchmaking schemes. Tim wouldn’t ever talk about it, or Aunt Betty, probably still carrying a shade of guilt over his part in Wade’s estrangement from Aunt Betty. Or, rather, the catalyst for the break.

  “Can we keep this between us?” he asked.

  “Consider me the opposite of Lucinda Riggs. So, yes.” She smiled, her plump lips glowing with the gesture, or maybe he was just noticing some lip gloss she wore. He was a sucker for lip gloss.

  He cleared his throat. “I came to town, really, to see my aunt. We’ve been estranged for fifteen
years.”

  “That sounds hard.” Her smile faded, concern creasing her brow.

  “You could say that.” He supposed it had been, considering his parents had died in his twenties, so Aunt Betty and Kim were mostly all he had left. He had a few other aunts and uncles and cousins, but they were scattered, and he hadn’t been close to them. With Kim in Paris these last years, and Aunt Betty getting close to eighty... “My aunt thinks she knows best, and she often did. But she went too far, meddling in my love life, and I was a proud man. I should’ve reached out sooner.”

  Irene nodded. “It’s good that you’re here now. I believe she’ll be glad.”

  He nodded. “Ken Taft seems to think so, and my sister, too.” Kim had been on him for years about making it up with Aunt Betty.

  “Your sister? Right, I think I met her briefly years back.”

  “She came to visit Aunt Betty before she moved to Paris.”

  “Paris? How lovely.”

  “Have you been?”

  “Years ago, in my twenties. I haven’t had a chance to get back, life gets so full.” She had a far-off look that made him want to know about her, what made her happy, and sad. She blinked, her lips quirking, and met his gaze.

  He could really fall for this woman. He swallowed down the rush of feelings. He was too matter-of-fact for some love-at-first sight nonsense. “Busy for me too. That’s part of why I haven’t been here.” He frowned. Was it, though? He could’ve, should’ve, made time. Being around this woman made him get honest with himself.

  “So, what’s this about continuing our fake relationship?” She waved a hand between them. Her fingers, long and elegant, had felt so right held in his.

  He shrugged, as if he could dispel the feeling in the movement. “Right. I’d just prefer to not give Aunt Betty another reason to meddle. If we’re together, she won’t. Problem is, why you’d have kept it from her, us meeting.”

  “We didn’t tell Lucinda how long we’ve known each other. Conveniently, I was out of town a couple of weeks ago.”