by Olivia Miles
“Never mind, Jane,” she said quickly. “Someone just pulled up.”
“Oh, good,” Jane gushed. “So you’ll be here soon?”
“I’ll hitch a ride into town, but I might need you to meet me there.” She could wait in her father’s bookstore if need be—the thought of it brightened her. There was one silver lining to coming back to Briar Creek, at least. Main Street Books always had a way of making her forget her troubles.
“Okay. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you’re on your way.”
Grace disconnected the call, musing over their casual comfort at the mere notion of hitching a ride with a stranger. She would never consider such a thing elsewhere, if the opportunity was even granted. Things were different in these parts, though. If someone saw a car pulled over in Briar Creek, they’d stop and lend a hand. If the same situation happened in New York, they’d just keep on going.
A tapping at her window startled her and she quickly crammed empty coffee cups and evidence from an indulgent stop at a fast-food joint somewhere near the Vermont border into their bags. Smiling apologetically, she shifted to face the window, her breath locking in her chest when she saw Luke Hastings’s equally shocked face peering back at her.
She stared at him, not blinking, clutching a grease-stained paper bag to her heaving chest. This day keeps getting better and better. She had barely skidded past the town line, and she was already running into the one man she had hoped to avoid. Forever.
The lights from his black Range Rover beamed strong, and Grace noticed with a heaviness in her heart that he hadn’t lost his looks since she’d last seen him. If anything, his features had hardened into something more manly and strong. The fine lines around his dark blue eyes gave him character, and their deep-set intensity gave her the same rush it always had. Damn him.
Grace held his gaze, knowing she was trapped. She was at his mercy now. He could walk away, refuse to help, drive off and leave her stranded on this unlit mountain road. In a snowstorm. No man would do that, not even Luke. But oh, she bitterly wished he would.
For not the first time she found miserable irony in the fact that Luke was, and always had been, a gentleman.
Grace rolled down the window with the press of her finger. “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.
An inquisitive smirk passed over Luke’s rugged features. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”
“I’m here for Christmas,” she said tightly.
“Christmas isn’t for another week,” he said gruffly.
“So, it’s still my town.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Is it?”
Grace looked away. “You can be on your way, Luke. I just got off the phone with Jane; she can come and get me.” Her face burned as she fumbled in her handbag for her cell phone, blindly reaching for wherever it had landed.
Luke assessed the situation with a frown. “Looks like you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a jam.” He studied her. “Are you hurt?”
Grace pinched her lips and shifted her gaze from his scrutiny, but her eyes kept flitting back. Despite the winter chill that nipped at her nose and fingers, she felt overheated and stifled. “I’m fine, thank you. Everything is just . . . fine.” And it was, or it would be, when he left. When he turned his back and walked away, like he had all those years ago.
A hint of a smile passed over his lips. “Really.”
“Yes, really!” With that, Grace raised the window, feeling a moment of relief for the thin glass that separated her from . . . from the man whose name was never to be mentioned. She knit her brow and turned to glare at the steering wheel. Clenching her teeth, she pulled the car into reverse and hit the accelerator at full throttle. The tires spun loudly, but the car didn’t move.
Heart pounding, she stared despondently at the dashboard for a few seconds before shifting her eyes to Luke’s penetrating gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched, those blue eyes sparked, and Grace dragged a deep sigh, digging her nails into her palms.
He pointed his finger toward the car handle, gesturing for her to unlock it. His intense stare fused with hers, hooded by the point of his brow. His full lips spread thin, giving insight into his displeasure.
Well, the feeling was mutual, Grace thought with a huff. Tearing her attention from him, she unlocked the door. An icy cold wind whipped her in the face as she pushed open the door.
“What were you doing driving on this road in these conditions?” Luke demanded as she climbed out of the car. His dark hair spilled over his forehead, slick with snow. “You should have taken Oak or South Main.”
Grace yanked away his half-hearted gesture to help her, and he let his hand fall at his side. She narrowed her eyes at the smirk that curled at those irresistible lips. The lips she had known as well as her own. Every line, every curve, every taste. She squared her shoulders and met his eye stonily. “Well, I took Mountain Road, okay? Besides, I could say the same thing to you!”
Luke tipped his head. “Not really. I live off Mountain Road. And I have four-wheel drive.”
Grace bristled. She hadn’t even thought to take South Main, even though it would have been a straight shot into town. Somehow, subconsciously, she had driven herself in the direction of the one person she hoped to avoid. The little part of her that longed for something that could never be had overruled all rational thought. And now, well, she supposed she’d gotten what she’d wanted. She was standing here, staring into the face of the man she hadn’t seen, with the exception of that one, fleeting time she’d rather forget, in five years.
“I meant driving in the snow. At . . . this hour.” She motioned to the darkness all around them.
She watched as Luke fought off a smile. A sheen of amusement lit his eyes. He made a show of checking his watch. “It’s five o’clock,” he said. “And my place is just down that way, as you’ll remember.” The grin finally got the better of him.
“Well.” Grace inhaled sharply, the cold air slicing her lungs, and looked away. The snow was coming down in heavy, thick flakes. The hood of her car had already collected at least an inch, and her hair felt wet and heavy against her gray wool coat. Perfect snowman weather, she couldn’t help thinking. If she were feeling the Christmas spirit, that is—and she wasn’t. She most certainly wasn’t.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked.
“I told you. I’m on my way home.”
His jaw hardened. “Thought you said you were never coming back to Briar Creek.”
She glared at him. That was only half the story, and he knew it. “Jane asked me to come home,” she explained. “With everything that’s happened recently, I couldn’t exactly say no.”
Luke nodded slowly. “I suppose not.” He looked to the ground, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“That’s a surprise. Word usually travels fast around here.” She folded her arms across her chest defensively, eyeing him through the falling snow.
He narrowed his gaze. After a beat, he murmured, “Yes. Yes, it usually does.”
With a sigh he broke her stare and wandered over to inspect the collision site. She waited to see if he would find amusement in her predicament, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood for laughs. The realization disappointed her, all at once reminding her of what they once had and no longer did. Standing here with the one person who knew her best, alone in the dark, on this cold mountain road, she had never felt more alone.
“Well,” Luke said, bending down to inspect the situation more closely. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to get it out of this bank on your own.”
“I’ll call for a tow truck then,” she said, rummaging through her bag and inadvertently setting a candy bar wrapper loose. She watched it whip through the wind, somewhere in the direction of the woods, and she could practically see Luke chuckling from her periphery. Finding her phone, she furiously tapped the number for information and waited. Nothing. Her breath caught in her chest as she p
ulled the phone from her ear and glanced at the screen. Connection lost. Of course.
She eyed Luke furtively, feeling her anger burn as a twinkle of enjoyment flashed through his blue eyes. Was this so easy for him? Did he not feel anything?
“No connection?”
“I had one a minute ago . . .” She exhaled deeply, and then rolled back her shoulders to fix her gaze on him. A rumble of something dangerous passed through her stomach as she studied his face. Would he ever not have this effect on her? “If you don’t mind going into town for a tow, I’ll just wait inside the car.” She paused, gritting her teeth as she hesitated on her next words. “Thank you.”
He looked at her like she was half crazy. “You think I’m going to go for help and leave you out here?”
She shrugged. “Why not? You’ve done worse to me.”
A flash of exasperation crossed his rugged features. He rubbed a hand over his tense jaw, his eyes sharp as steel. Grace knew that look, knew it all too well. She’d made him angry. Well, good.
“Get in my car,” he ordered, jutting his chin in the direction of his big black vehicle. “It’s freezing out here.”
Grace tried to suppress the shiver that was building deep within her. She’d be damned if she let him see how cold she was in her simple wool peacoat. She planted her feet to the ground, but it was no use. She shuddered, then inwardly cursed as Luke’s expression softened.
“Here, take my scarf.” He started walking toward her, but she reflexively took a step back. He stopped, his shoulders slumping. “Grace. Take the scarf.”
Grace lifted her chin, her lips thinning. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and her heart panged. There he was. Her sweet love. Luke Hastings. The love of her life. The man who had chased her through the icy waters of the creek in the heat of summer. The man who had taken her to bed in cool, cotton sheets. The man who had kissed her until she wept, the man who had held her until she couldn’t breathe. The man whose smile could warm her heart, and whose frown could stop it. The man who represented every part of her past, and who was supposed to have held every moment of her future. The man no one since had ever been able to live up to.
“Fine,” she muttered, reaching out to take the navy scarf. As she tied it around her neck, she subtly breathed into the fabric, closing her eyes to familiarity of the musky scent. She fingered the fringe at the bottom, knowing she had never seen Luke wear this scarf in all the years they were together.
She wondered when he had gotten it. She wondered if his wife had bought it for him.
“Your bags in the trunk?” Luke asked, and Grace nodded. Without another word, he popped the trunk and pulled out two large bags. He carried them low at his sides to his car and then returned for the second round. “You never did pack light,” he grumbled as he brushed past her.
Grace hung back as he loaded her belongings, and glanced despairingly at her rental car, which was obviously not going anywhere on its own. “Should have listened to my gut,” she whispered to herself. Shouldn’t have come here at all.
“You coming or not?” Luke called with obvious impatience.
Grace closed her eyes, shaking her head in the negative even as she began walking toward the glow of his taillights. Each crunch of snow under her boots brought her one step closer to the part of her she had tried to deny since the day she left this town for good. Each inch closer to Luke’s world took her further out of the one she had built for herself.
She reached the passenger door and yanked it open. If she stepped inside this car—Luke’s car—there would be no going back. She paused, her breath coming in ragged spurts. She wiped a strand of cold, wet hair from her forehead. Inside the car, Luke was watching her expectantly, the heat from the vents felt almost suffocating against the crisp evening air.
With one last breath for courage, she climbed inside and left the safety of her world behind with a slam of the door. Like it or not, she was back in Briar Creek. And so far, it was going even worse than expected.
Also by Olivia Miles
Grand Central Publishing/Forever
Mistletoe on Main Street
A Match Made on Main Street
Hope Springs on Main Street
Harlequin Special Edition
‘Twas the Week Before Christmas
Recipe for Romance
About the Author
Olivia Miles is a bestselling author of contemporary romance. She was the winner of Harlequin’s 2011 Happy Holidays Contest, and her story earned her “The Call.” Her books have since released in more than six countries and have been translated into multiple languages. Her first single-title series, the Briar Creek series, is now available through Hachette/Grand Central Publishing’s Forever imprint.
A city girl with a fondness for small town charm, Olivia enjoys highlighting both ways of life in her stories. She currently resides just outside Chicago with her husband, young daughter, and two ridiculously pampered pups.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Megan Leavell
Excerpt from MISTLETOE ON MAIN STREET copyright © 2014 by Megan Leavell. Reprinted by arrangement with Forever, an imprint of Grand Central Publishing.
All rights reserved. By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of copyright owner.
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