Snow Day

by Shannon Stacey, Jennifer Greene

  Her pulse jumped to attention as his footsteps echoed on the uneven stone floor. He moved toward her and she looked behind him as he advanced, watching for Emilee or Barry. But they didn’t appear.

  “Did you lose the tour?” she asked.

  Colton came closer, and her heartbeat quickened. “The tour lost me.”

  “They’re probably back upstairs,” she offered as airily as she could manage, pointing the way as she took a bracing swig of the wine.

  “Probably,” he agreed. But instead of leaving, he came to a halt, too close, gazing down at her.

  Her physical reaction to him was frustratingly familiar. He’d always been incredibly attractive, fit, sexy. Her attraction to him had never been in question.

  And she didn’t dislike him. She mostly admired him. Trouble was, her own flaws seemed magnified when he was around. Right now, his regard made her self-conscious about her appearance. He was pristine, and she was dusty, even frumpy.

  She made a shooing motion with one hand, hoping to end the encounter. “You don’t want to miss seeing the kitchen.”

  His gray eyes seemed unusually dark in the dim light. “I’m not interested in the kitchen.”

  “The view is to die for.” She attempted to pique his interest. “It’s my favorite part of the house.”

  “Why’s that?”

  She decided being contrary was her next best defense, reminding him of one of her flaws. “It’s where we bake the cookies. Big, sweet, gooey cookies. Probably about a million calories each. I eat them by the handful.”

  Colton was meticulous about exercise and nutrition. He’d never be so weak as to chow down on chocolate chip cookies. She couldn’t count the times that she’d smiled and agreed with him that they should skip dessert at The Grille, when in reality she was desperate for a taste of crème brulee or a slice of decadent chocolate cake.

  “The kind that will make you fat and weak,” she added for good measure.

  She took another sip of her wine, noting the way his eyes followed the motion. She imagined he was thinking it was early in the day for drinking. Too bad for him. She liked a little buzz in the afternoon—especially this afternoon.

  “Want some?” she taunted, canting a hip out to one side.

  He was silent for a long moment, but she could see the hesitation in his eyes.

  “Sure,” he answered.

  “Yeah, right,” she scoffed.

  He reached for a glass, then lifted the bottle, pouring a good measure.

  “That glass is probably dusty,” she pointed out.

  He glanced suspiciously at the crystal. But then he shrugged and took a drink.

  “Well, well, well,” she singsonged.

  “What?”

  “It’s not even five o’clock yet.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not a hard-and-fast rule.”

  The words took her by surprise. “You have rules that aren’t hard and fast?”

  “Sometimes.” He took another drink, and she realized he was being deliberately contrary.

  She’d taunted him, and he was responding by being disagreeable.

  It was her turn to shrug. What did she care if he drank wine in the afternoon? Until she’d started dating Colton, she’d certainly had nothing against a pre-predinner drink. She finished her glass and poured some more.

  His brows drew together. “Trying to get drunk, Tessa?”

  “Trying to get numb, actually.”

  He didn’t seem to have an answer for that. Though he did finish his own glass and helped himself to some more.

  She felt as if she were in a ridiculous game of chicken. Normally, she acquiesced to his desires. Not because he was a bully or had a temper, but because his perspective was usually best. Often his perspective wasn’t fun, but it was always commendable.

  He set the bottle back down with a thud. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Why not,” she breathed.

  “That emerald necklace.”

  “What emerald necklace?”

  “The one I bought for you last April. Don’t pretend you don’t remember it.”

  “I remember it,” she allowed.

  In retrospect, it had been one of the first warning signs. Maybe if she’d listened to her instincts back then, things would never have gotten so far out of hand.

  “What was wrong with it?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” It was a beautiful necklace. Any woman would have been thrilled to get it.

  His lips compressed. She could tell she’d disappointed him. Luckily, she didn’t have to care anymore.

  She temporarily set her glass down. Then she braced her hands on the maple table, boosting herself up to sit on it. Telling herself nothing he said or thought mattered, she crossed her ankles and lifted her wineglass to her lips, taking an unconcerned sip.

  “So, why wouldn’t you wear it?” he pressed.

  “I don’t want to have this conversation,” she said boldly. The alcohol was making its way into her circulatory system, taking the edge off her anxiety.

  “Well, I do.”

  “Then have it by yourself.”

  He tipped back his glass, draining the wine. “What is the matter with you?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  “You never used to be this contrary.”

  “I was. I just never let you see it.”

  He paused, peering at her as if her hair was gradually turning orange. “What was wrong with the necklace, Tessa?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  She shook her head in refusal.

  “Don’t tell me what I want or don’t want,” he insisted, leaning closer.

  “Okay,” she capitulated, deciding the quickest way out of this conversation was to give him what he’d asked for.

  She started to take a drink but realized her glass was empty. She reached for the bottle, but Colton beat her to it, pouring another measure into her glass.

  She waved it between them. “I want to go on record as answering this under protest.”

  “So noted,” he intoned.

  She squared her shoulders. “Fine. You made me feel like a dress-up doll.”

  He drew back. “What? I thought you felt pretty.”

  “I felt like a plaything that you’d decided to dress up and show off.”

  He went silent, looking confused. “Because I bought you a necklace?”

  “You also bought me the dress and the shoes.”

  The outfit had been gorgeous. It had reminded her that his tastes were so much more refined than hers. His unlimited budget was one excuse, but Tessa knew it went deeper than that. Colton’s instincts would always take him in exactly the right direction. Hers couldn’t be trusted.

  He relieved her of her wineglass and set them both down, propping a hand on the table beside her. His voice went cold and deep. “Let me get this straight. The problem that night was that I bought you too many presents.”

  “That wasn’t the problem,” she snapped.

  He moved in close. “Then what was the problem, Tessa?”

  Her hands balled into fists. For some reason, the weeks and months of frustration that had built up inside her head burst from her lips. “If I could explain it to you,” she all but shouted, “we never would have broken up!”

  They both went stock still, as if neither could quite believe she’d used that tone. Tessa sure couldn’t.

  A slight creak of the table beneath her seemed to boom in the silence. The air went thick, first warm, then cold, before Colton finally spoke.

  His voice was calm, controlled. “Is that so?”

  “Yes,” she ground out. “That is so.”

  He was silent
for another long moment. “Okay. Then explain it to me now.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “Figure it out,” he said softly. “And I’ll give you back your ring.”

  She scoffed at the absurdity of his statement, sliding down from the table to plant her feet on the floor, all but elbowing him out of her way.

  He stood his ground, crowding her, their bodies almost touching. His index finger went gently to her chin, and he repeated the words. “Explain it to me now, and I’ll give you back your ring.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  COLTON WATCHED TESSA’S back as she marched out of the wine cellar, and realized his words had been foolish on so many levels. He’d asked her to come back. He’d sworn to himself in a thousand different ways that he wouldn’t stoop to that. She’d made her choice. He shouldn’t even contemplate taking her back, never mind asking her back. He certainly had no interest in a woman who didn’t want him.

  As her footsteps faded away, he started for the door himself. He’d go upstairs and make a show of checking out the kitchen. Then he was getting out of here.

  He was absolutely going to buy this place. He’d offer whatever it took. But then he’d level the wine cellar. He’d level the castle. He’d erase any trace of Tessa and this ridiculously embarrassing episode in his life.

  The value of Land’s End was in the property—its view, its location, the spectacular beach and the funky little town that would appeal to upscale tourists. There was no value at all in the aging castle.

  He wound his way through the cluttered basement to a narrow staircase that led to a first-floor hallway. He could hear voices in the great room and followed them to find Rand, Barry and Emilee. Tessa was there, too, but she was completely focused on buffing the suit of armor in the windowed alcove, ignoring everything else around her.

  “There you are,” Rand opened. “I just talked to Lily.”

  “Great,” said Colton, moving toward the entry hall where he’d hung his overcoat. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “She can’t get us a flight,” Rand called behind him.

  Colton stopped and turned. “That’s ridiculous.”

  It was hardly the height of tourist season. And Herrington Resorts was an exceedingly good customer of most national airlines. That generally bought them some consideration when they had to travel on short notice.

  “The storm’s worse than expected,” said Rand.

  “But commercial traffic is still going.”

  “They’ve delayed or cancelled most of the flights.”

  “Get us on one that hasn’t been cancelled.”

  Emilee was working on her laptop. “There’s a weather warning from Canada to New York. But I have a flight in the morning that still shows as on time.”

  “Lily is looking into hotels for tonight,” said Rand.

  “So, we’re staying in Tucker’s Point? That’s the plan?”

  “That’s the plan,” said Rand.

  Colton didn’t want to stay in Tucker’s Point. He was itching to get all the way out of town. He’d made up his mind to buy, and anything else could be done long distance.

  “Why don’t you come and take a look at these,” suggested Barry. He had unrolled some diagrams on a large dining room table.

  “They’re the original survey drawings, and some geological information,” he explained. “You can see the current building footprint and the potential for other development.”

  Tessa glanced sharply at her brother, but she didn’t make a comment. She didn’t look Colton’s way at all, turning her attention back to the armor.

  “Let’s take a look,” Rand suggested. “Lily’s going to call as soon as she has something set up.”

  “Why not?” Colton figured he might as well have something other than Tessa’s animosity to distract him. He made his way toward the table.

  Barry had produced three sets of surveys, each one updated as additions to the building had been built. Colton could see that the original castle was about half of the current building. Extra bedrooms had been added in the early 1900s. A second turret had been tacked on in the fifties. And the kitchen had been updated and expanded in the seventies.

  “What are the current height restrictions?” he asked Barry.

  “The permitting framework doesn’t specifically address height. Honestly, you’d probably run up against complaints about the impact on the view if you went up more than about four stories at the north end, here.” He pointed to the space beside the castle and the pier.

  “What about the south side?” asked Colton. “Is there a difference?”

  “The hillside park overlooks the water to the north. But on the south, the terrain behind us is swampy, and the grade of the hill is too steep for development. There’s no view to obstruct.”

  “How close are you on the rezoning?”

  “The committee met last month. There’s no specific opposition, except that they don’t want light or heavy industrial. Retail or tourism sailed through without a challenge. As I understand it, the decision is being incorporated into the official community plan.”

  Tessa appeared at the table, glaring at them all. “It’s three simple words,” she enunciated carefully. “I won’t sell. Why is this so hard for you people to understand?”

  “Tess, not now,” said Barry.

  For some reason, Colton had an urge to defend her against her brother. He only just stopped himself from speaking up.

  “This is a waste of time,” she told them.

  “It’s my time to waste,” Colton responded evenly, silently admonishing himself for his ridiculous gut reaction.

  Tessa didn’t want his help. And Barry was the one on his side, anyway.

  “I’ll never say yes,” she told Colton.

  The air thickened between them, and he wondered if she was referring as much to his offer in the wine cellar as to the land sale.

  “You haven’t heard my offer,” he told her.

  “I’ve heard enough.”

  “Tessa,” Barry interrupted. He took his sister’s arm and tugged her to one side.

  Again, Colton reacted with his gut, tamping down an urge to step between her and Barry.

  “Let go of me,” she warned.

  “We have to keep our options open,” he hissed as they moved away, almost out of earshot.

  “No, we don’t.”

  “I can’t make you sell,” Barry whispered. “You’re right about that. So, what’s the harm in them looking? What’s the harm in them thinking about it? We’ll make a deal, or not, sometime in the future. But don’t screw this up now.”

  “I know what you’re doing,” she grumbled in return.

  “What am I doing?”

  “You think you can change my mind by inches.”

  “I think you’re missing the big picture.”

  “I think you’re missing the big picture. You want a quick financial win over—”

  “Can we talk about this later?”

  Tessa’s jaw clenched. Colton had seen that look a few times in his life. Once she got it, he couldn’t budge her. At least this time he could see some kind of logic behind her intransigence.

  “Fine. We’ll talk after they’re gone.” Her glance went to Colton and her expression faltered. She seemed to realize he had overheard.

  Rand’s phone chimed.

  “Lily,” he informed Colton as he pressed the talk button.

  “Can I get a copy of these?” Colton asked Barry, moving the conversation along.

  “Of course you can.”

  Tessa rolled her eyes and marched away, Emilee joining her in the alcove by the armor.

  “How is that possible?” Rand was saying into the phone, drawing Colton’s attention. His expressi
on told Colton something had gone wrong.

  “Well, what are our options?” Rand paused. “You have got to be kidding.” He turned to look out the window.

  Colton followed his gaze, realizing the falling snow was almost impenetrable now, blowing sideways across the lighted front drive.

  “It doesn’t look good out there,” Barry observed.

  Tessa and Emilee had obviously noticed, as well. Both were staring out the alcove window.

  “The car’s getting totally buried,” said Emilee.

  “I don’t think you’re going anywhere tonight,” Barry put in.

  Colton hated to agree with him.

  “I guess it is what it is,” Rand said into the phone. His look to Colton was resigned. “Okay. Thanks for trying.”

  “What is it?” Colton asked as Rand signed off.

  “Not a hotel room for a hundred miles. She said the interstate is still open, but side roads are almost impassable.”

  “You’re welcome to stay here,” said Barry.

  “What?” Tessa’s shocked voice echoed across the big room.

  * * *

  TESSA’S BOOTS SQUEAKED against the snow of the castle’s driveway as she made her way toward Beech Tree Road. She didn’t know what she expected to find there, proof that it was safe for Colton to drive away? Maybe a lighted vacancy sign on the B and B around the corner. Something, she realized, anything to tell her that Colton would be leaving Land’s End tonight.

  She’d woken up this morning, clear in her purpose, feeling as though she’d finally had a real direction in life. Land’s End was that direction. Since Sophie passed away, Tessa had been working her way through the castle, rediscovering its magic, understanding why it was such an important place to her ancestors.

  She might have broken up with Colton, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t see a marriage in her future. She’d love to have kids, to raise them here, to teach them about her wonderful parents, about Sophie, about the great-grandparents and all those before them who’d come here, made a home, turned it into a thing of value and artistic beauty.

  She rounded the curve in the driveway, coming up to the edge of the road. Her nose had grown cold. A dense stream of snowflakes blew sideways along the road, silhouetted against the streetlights. A few cars had left tracks in the snow, but those were quickly filling in. It was incredibly quiet, everything muffled.