Sweet Snowfall [Frostbite Falls Christmas 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour)

by Willa Edwards

  But Riley wouldn’t be the only knockout at the party. Not with Lydia in that red dress. The shape and color accentuated her willow figure and dark good looks. What Grace wouldn’t give for long chocolate hair or deep green eyes like Lydia’s, instead of mousy brown hair and dull hazel eyes.

  Why Lydia’s fiancé had left her, Grace would never understand. Not only was Lydia beautiful, but she was the sweetest person Grace had ever met. Maybe too much so. But whatever the reason—and if town rumor was correct it had two fake boobs and a mouth bigger than a trout—his loss would be someone else’s gain.

  That just left her. Poor plain Grace. The short, curvy, bookish one. There would be no male attention coming her way, not when they could have any of the other women at the ball, tempting in their absolute best. At least this year Victoria hadn’t forced a date on her. After last year’s fiasco where Riley had kneed her date in the groin and left him moaning on the dance floor, Victoria had taken the year off matchmaking. Grace had that to be thankful for.

  The ding of a text echoed from her purse. She pulled her phone from her bag, while the girls continued to laugh—or grumbled in Riley’s case—around her.

  A text message flashed across the screen. Can’t wait to see you there.

  Those words had her heart beating a little faster. Not that she had a reason to get excited. The message was just a cordial greeting, no different than the ones she’d received on the street as she walked home. Just because it came from Cassidy, and it almost sounded like he looked forward to seeing her, didn’t mean he thought of their meeting as anything special. He was probably really looking forward to having his package back. It had nothing to do with her. Or wanting to join her at the ball.

  When he spoke like that, she almost believed he meant it. If only she was that kind of girl.

  “Who are you texting with?” Victoria’s voice broke through her reverie, calling her back to the present.

  “No one.” Grace switched off her phone, placing it face down on the bed, in case any other text came through.

  “That’s a not a no one face. That’s a someone face. Are you holding out on us?” Victoria stared over at her through the full-length mirror.

  Fluttery butterflies leapt to life in Grace’s stomach. She wasn’t holding anything back. Not really. Cassidy was just a friend. He wasn’t even that. He was an acquaintance. Just someone she knew from the library. Whether she wanted him to be something more didn’t mean there was anything more between them.

  “Grace, you look almost as starstruck as this one talking about Logan and Jasper.” Victoria motioned with her thumb toward Riley.

  “Hey, that’s not true. I don’t like Jasper and Logan like that.” All the girls laughed.

  “Whatever you say.” Victoria rolled her eyes.

  “If you want to keep your secrets, Grace, that’s fine…for now.” Victoria hardened her eyes on the last two words, offering her the famous Willis stare that said don’t mess with me or you’ll be sorry. The whole family had their own version of the stare. Even Riley. Though hers didn’t compare to Victoria’s. Few people could compete with Victoria Willis when she was determined.

  “You deserve to be happy. Whatever that means.” Lydia grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Just like Lydia, always kind beyond words.

  “Thank you, that’s very sweet.” She smiled back at all of them, even Riley, who looked almost in pain as Victoria brandished a tube of liquid eyeliner. “But I’m serious. No one special is texting me.”

  Her phone beeped, notifying her another text had come through. Her hand twitched to pick up her phone and read what Cassidy had written back. She had no doubt it was Cassidy texting her. No one else had texted her all day. Most of the people who did currently sat this room.

  “Okay, whatever you say.” Victoria smiled before returning her attention to her cousin, in the middle of trying to wiggle away from an eyelash curler.

  * * * *

  Grace leaned up against the bar, watching the crowd before her, trying to convince herself she wasn’t waiting for Cassidy and Nash to appear. And if she was, it was only because she needed to find them to give Cassidy his package before she could continue on with her night unencumbered. It wasn’t because she was looking forward to seeing them. Or because she was excited to have someone coming to the party just for her. Not at all.

  “Who are you watching for? Your mystery texting man?” Lydia stood at the bar beside her, sipping a red bubbly drink.

  It took Victoria three seconds to be swallowed by the festival activities once they’d arrived at the town hall, abandoning them to some greater task. While others might be disappointed, Victoria’s lack of attention suited Grace just fine. The less Victoria noticed her, the less likely she was to comment on Nash and Cassidy being at the event.

  Riley found her best friends and had wandered off with them in almost the same amount of time, leaving only Grace and Lydia behind.

  Grace sipped at her drink. The sweet peppermint breezed across her taste buds. It was almost enough to battle through the burn of the alcohol beneath the sweetness. Why they couldn’t have served hot chocolate she still didn’t know, but Victoria had vetoed it right away.

  “Why do you think the person texting me was a man?” Grace was sure she hadn’t said anything about the texter’s gender. She’d tried hard not to mention him at all. Not willing to admit, even to herself, how excited she was about a few text messages from Cassidy. Just thinking it sounded pathetic.

  “I don’t know.” Lydia shrugged her shoulders. “You have that look about you.”

  Grace’s face heated. Had she been that obvious? God, how embarrassing. “He’s just a friend.”

  The corner of Lydia’s mouth quirked up, responding to her lack of denial about her texting buddy’s gender. “I certainly hope that isn’t true.” Lydia’s big knowing stare said it all. “For you.”

  Grace opened her mouth to deny the claim again. Cassidy was just a friend. If anything, describing him as a friend stretched the truth, but it was the closest definition she had. Regardless of her crazy overactive imagination, which loved to paint him and her together in all kind of sexy situations, that was all he’d ever be. Just a friend.

  She wasn’t anything special to him. And she didn’t know what he was to her. He wasn’t the only one her silly mind ran away with. She’d done the same with his best friend, Nash, on more than one occasion. Whenever he came to the library to check out a book on Victorian furniture, she always pictured the two of them together. Spread on an old Victorian bed with a lace canopy. Or lying before a cozy fire on a soft blanket.

  If Cassidy was so special, wouldn’t she just think about him? The mere fact that she wanted his best friend, as well as Cassidy, probably said it was more hormones than love that drew her attention to him.

  But any reply Grace might have had died on her lips as loud laughter and clinking glasses wafted across the room. Lydia’s eyes swiveled to the table, and the color drained from her face.

  Grace didn’t have to ask who created the racket. The wounded look on Lydia’s face said it all. The only person that could make Lydia look like that was her ex-fiancé. Every part of Grace wanted to walk over to that table and throw the son of a bitch out on his head with his cheap date. But she couldn’t do that. Not only would Victoria have a fit, Lydia wouldn’t be happy either, having her personal drama played out before the whole town.

  As part of the town, the asshole had as much right to be at the ball as anyone. But that didn’t mean Grace had to like it.

  Grace’s heart broke for her friend, to have to endure seeing her ex like this. Not just to be in the same place as him, after he’d been so cruel, but to watch him laughing and carrying on with the woman he had left her for. It must hurt so much. But before Grace could try to comfort her, Lydia’s focus shifted to a tree standing on the opposite side of the room as her former fiancé, putting up an invisible wall between them.

  “That tree looks a li
ttle bare. I’m going to get some more ornaments.” Lydia hurried off toward the storage room and the few remaining decorations, regardless that every tree in the room looked impeccable. Victoria wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Grace fought back the urge to run after her and hug her until she forgot the damn trees. Ever since her engagement was called off, Lydia had been struggling to find her place without that two hundred pounds of dead weight.

  She clearly didn’t feel comfortable in their town yet. She was always trying to prove she belonged here. And the asshole showing off all over town with his new girlfriend wasn’t helping. Not that he cared. Men rarely noticed, let alone cared about that kind of thing. But telling Lydia again that they loved her, that they enjoyed having in in Frostbite Falls wouldn’t change her mind. Not tonight at least.

  Thankfully Grace had never felt out of place in Frostbite Falls. Not even when she’d been the new kid to the town. They’d automatically accepted her. Living three doors down from the mayor’s residence and becoming immediate best friends with Victoria probably had something to do with it. She’d only ever felt out of place when she’d been outside of Frostbite Falls.

  She stared around the room, watching the people talk and mingle, dressed in their best evening wear. Victoria stood off to a side, laughing with Mr. and Mrs. Herbert. Riley sat at a table with Logan and Jasper, sucking down cocktails. Even Lydia was talking to the Manning brothers as she adjusted a red glass orb on the tree.

  Almost everyone in the town was in the room. After everyone else in her life had left or died, the people in this town were the closest she had to family.

  She’d thought for sure she knew everyone here, but across the room, two unfamiliar men stood off to the side. Their large broad shoulders didn’t look at home at the party, almost like their jackets were a size too small. Yet she found their nervousness endearing. Not that different than her own unease at the large gathering.

  Too-tight suits or not, there was no denying the muscles evident beneath the stretched fabric. They were talking to Dean Crawford, the local florist, who threw his hands around as he told some elaborate story. It was impossible to decipher what tale Dean told. He had so many. Everything that happened to Dean was a story. Running a stop sign would be a half-hour chronical about how he got there and why he’d run the sign.

  Her personal favorite was his supposed affair with Elton John during his dancer days in the seventies. She didn’t believe a word of it. But she could enjoy the intrigue and romance of the tale, regardless of its fabrication.

  Taking a sip of her drink, she watched, wondering who these men could be as Dean became even more animated with his story. There weren’t many strangers that made it to the ball. A few visitors were invited each year—usually for one of Victoria matchmaking schemes. But in general, strangers were few and far between.

  Not that it mattered, strangers or not, she could enjoy the view. In the three minutes she watched them, she created six possible careers and backstories for them. They could be private investigators sent to watch a mark. Or their car could have broken down on the road outside Dean’s shop and he forced them to come along to the party. Maybe they were new to the town, enjoying their first night in Frostbite Falls at the Christmas Ball. Or they could be friends of Dean’s who’d just gotten married in Denver and were enjoying a honeymoon in Frostbite Falls.

  She fought back choking as the two men turned, offering her the first glance of their profiles, and she quickly realized her mistake. She had been right. She knew everyone in the room. Included these men. She’d definitely been wrong about the gay thing. Nash and Cassidy weren’t gay. Not if the stories about them being caught in the woods with girls were true.

  Seeing her watching them, Nash offered her a quick smile and wave, below Dean’s line of vision, who was more focused on talking to Cassidy to notice the gesture. Hopefully he didn’t notice the way she gripped her glass so hard her knuckles ached. Or the way the blood drained from her face, making her dizzy.

  She’d known they were going to be at the ball. Yet seeing them there threw her world off-kilter. And it felt like it would never turn right side up again.

  * * * *

  Nash’s heart almost stopped when he spied Grace stand by the bar, a pink cocktail in her hand. The smooth green satin of her dress hugged her body, the cut reminding him of some long-ago TV show he might have watched and dreamed he could walk into.

  The dress looked perfect on Grace. And why shouldn’t it? She was the same as the families in those TV shows. Beautiful and wonderful, but he knew somewhere down deep, he’d never be a part of.

  From the slack-jawed way he looked at the girl, Cassidy was having a similar thought. At least Nash had the decency to keep his tongue in his mouth.

  She returned his smile and wave, the slight motion of her hand calling him in. And why shouldn’t she? That’s why they’d come here. To see Grace.

  It only took them minutes to make their way through the crowd, after convincing Dean to tell his story to Mrs. Dunn instead. It was easy to maneuver around people when their goal was to get to her.

  “I’m glad you could make it.” She looked up at them so endearingly, his heart beat a little faster.

  “The place looks beautiful.” Cassidy smiled at her, and Nash held back the urge to say the same about her. Though in all honesty, she looked much better than the room.

  Even he could appreciate how much work had gone into preparing for this night, but nothing looked better than her tonight. The halter top of her dress highlighted her glorious cleavage. The cut detailed her gorgeous hourglass form. But she wasn’t a big fan of compliments, and he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

  “You don’t think Victoria will mind us being here?” Nash looked around the room for the town’s unofficial queen. Victoria wasn’t their harshest critic, but she wasn’t as understanding as Grace either. If she thought they would damage her event, he doubted they’d make it another few minutes in the town hall.

  Grace shook her head. “Of course not. Victoria wants everyone in town to enjoy the ball.”

  Her easy answer ignored the fact they’d never been invited. Troublemakers—even ones that hadn’t made trouble in a long time—didn’t make Victoria Willis’s invite list. Small towns had very long memories.

  “Lydia let me leave the envelope on her desk. We can grab it any time we want.” It didn’t sound like a dismissal, but instead like she was trying to be considerate, giving them the opportunity to leave the party as fast as possible if they wanted to.

  But they didn’t want to. Not if it meant leaving her behind. They had a plan for tonight, and separating from Grace at any point wasn’t part of it.

  “There’s no reason to rush.” Cassidy smiled at her. “We already got dressed up, we might as well enjoy the party.”

  Any other time Nash would have encouraged him to grab the envelope and run. This party wasn’t their scene. Nothing could be further from it. But the reading this afternoon had changed their perspective. New possibilities existed that never had before.

  “What are you drinking?” Nash motioned toward the martini glass in her hand.

  Grace looked at the drink, inspecting it herself. “It’s called a sex on the naughty list.” Nash fought the urge to swallow his tongue at the name. Did she have any idea what kind of image that name brought to his mind? “I’m not much of a drinker, and the bartender said it would taste the least alcoholy.”

  She sipped the light pink drink, her cute little nose scrunched up at the taste. Clearly it wasn’t not alcoholy enough for her. He wasn’t sure why, but it only made him like her more. She was adorable, so different than the other women they’d dated. What he always wanted, but never thought he deserved.

  “We’ll have two more of those,” Cassidy ordered from the bartender, pointing to the glass in Grace’s hand. The bartender nodded, fulfilling their order before Nash could complain.

  Neither of them were frilly-drink men. He wasn�
�t sure you could drink an appletini and still consider yourself a man. But if there was anyone in the world he would drink a pink cocktail for, it would be Grace.

  Her cheeks colored a bit at their order. The look in her eyes immediately erased all his complaints. If drinking a Pepto-Bismol pink drink brought that cute look to Grace’s face, he was all for it. Bring on the cocktails.

  “You don’t have to drink those.” The color in Grace’s cheeks darkened, making her even more adorable.

  Nash only smiled back. “When in Rome.”

  Grace looked down, nibbling on her bottom lip in that cute way that he loved. “I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience for you to come.”

  Cassidy shook his head, grabbing one of the pink drinks the bartender deposited on the bar before them. “Not at all.”

  Sure, they’d had to run over to Culver to get their suits pressed. And they’d each had to buy a new shirt, since neither had one that wasn’t stained or missing buttons. They didn’t have many occasions to wear fancy suits as errand boys and landscapers. But shearing the sheep themselves to weave the suits wouldn’t have been inconvenience enough to keep them away, let alone an hour-long drive a few towns over.

  “We were happy to meet you.” That much was one hundred percent true.

  Nash sipped his drink and fought back the urge to laugh. Damn, this was sweet. Like drinking peppermint syrup straight from the bottle. If there was any alcohol in the concoction, he couldn’t taste it.

  Beside him, Cassidy took a sip, too, his lips pursing at the sweetness. Served him right for ordering the damn drinks.

  “I appreciate you guys meeting me here for the exchange. I know it’s silly, but I really wanted my package back tonight.”

  It didn’t sound silly at all. Especially not after they’d discovered what was inside her envelope. No doubt she was worried what might happen if the document fell into the wrong hands. Only time would tell if she believed it had or not.