by Lisa Jackson
She waited for him to move and turned her truck around, trying to get it as close as she could to the service entrance. It was difficult to see with the snow obscuring her back windshield. Boden jogged up the hill from where he’d parked his pickup and guided her.
He had on a down jacket and a ski cap and still looked like he was freezing his tail off. In her rearview mirror she saw him blowing on his gloveless hands a few times. She did the best she could to straighten the van and pressed the parking brake. Boden immediately started pulling out boxes from the back and lugging them to the kitchen.
She’d been looking forward to having the place to herself for a couple of hours to work before the rest of the workers descended, but she was thankful to have Boden’s help. It was nice of him to pitch in the way he was.
“Is anyone else here?” She began arranging her perishables in the huge refrigerator.
“Foster just left and the bride’s mother and wedding planner are here, checking off their lists.” He eyed the row of boxes he’d helped to bring in. “You wouldn’t by chance be hiding a cup of coffee in one of those, would you?”
“No, but I have this.” She rummaged through the packages and held up a bag of beans. “I’ll start a pot.”
“You’re a goddess.”
She glanced over at him. There’d been a flirtatious hitch in his voice, which she suspected was the way he communicated with women. All women.
She found the coffeemaker, a built-in stainless-steel number that looked almost as fancy as Boden’s Illy. The kitchen didn’t lack for high-end appliances, that’s for sure.
“The bride’s folks must be loaded,” Boden whispered.
She nodded. “It’s a gorgeous place. How come you’re here so early?”
“I wanted to get the bar set up in case the weather gets worse. Now all I have to do is get myself here.”
Smart. “Don’t you think it’ll clear up?”
“Not according to AccuWeather. It’s predicting ten inches of snow.”
“That’s this morning’s forecast?” Last night, the weather said two inches. This wasn’t good.
“Yup. The bride’s wedding planner checked with the county. They’ll keep the road plowed and they’ve got a shuttle at the Four Seasons to get folks here. They even have a backup generator in case the power goes out. It should be fine, but I didn’t want the hassle of dragging the bar and liquor through piles of snow.”
She let out a breath. “I just hope my servers will be able to get in.”
“They’re all local, right?” he asked, and she nodded. “They know the drill.”
She poured the coffee beans into the grinder and flicked the switch. Boden gave her a quick once-over. She was still bundled up in her jacket and snow boots, but a silly part of her wished she’d worn something better than yoga pants and an old sweater.
“Aren’t you warm in that?” he asked, motioning at her heavy scarf and woolen hat. “It has to be seventy degrees in here.”
She noted he’d taken off his jacket and hung it over one of the chairs in the breakfast room. He had on a pair of faded jeans and one of his signature flannel shirts with a black thermal peeking out from under his collar. The pages of an L.L.Bean catalog flashed through her head.
The whir of the grinder stopped and the smell of coffee began to fill the room. She took off the scarf and hat and tucked them inside a tote bag. He stood idly against the counter waiting for the coffee to finish brewing and watched as she unzipped her jacket, then helped tug it off and hung it neatly over the chair next to his.
Impatient, she poured them each a cup before the pot was full and brushed against him as she handed him the warm mug. His fingers touched hers and she could’ve sworn she felt a current of electricity. That’s when the lights flickered and everything went dark.
CHAPTER 4
“Shit,” Boden said, and felt for Rachel as his eyes adjusted to the dark. “You okay?”
She’d let out a little yelp when the power went off and he worried she might’ve spilled coffee on herself.
“The lights . . . it just startled me is all. You said they have a generator?”
“Yeah. I’m gonna go look for Mrs. Canadell and see if I can help her get it going.”
He started to find his way in the dark, but the lights switched on as fast as they’d gone off. “I guess we’re back in business. It was probably just the wind.”
Rachel peered out the window and grimaced. “It’s really blowing.”
“Yoo-hoo.” Mrs. Canadell swept into the kitchen with the wedding planner. Kristi, Boden thought she’d said earlier. He was usually pretty good with names, but he’d been carrying in boxes of liquor and trying not to slip on the ice at the time of the introductions.
“That about gave me a heart attack.” Mrs. Canadell put her hand to her chest.
Boden glanced at the clock flashing on the double wall ovens and leaned over to reset it. “You want to show me where the generator is in case it happens again?”
“Oh, you’re a doll.” She patted his arm and Boden watched as Rachel bit back a smile. What could he say? Middle-aged women dug him? Hell, all women dug him with the exception of one brown-eyed pastry chef.
“We have to leave soon,” Kristi said. “Mrs. Canadell has a hair appointment and I have to help Tara get ready. But I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“I’m fine,” Rachel said, and looked at Boden.
“As soon as you show Rach and me how to work the generator I’m gonna take off, too.” He still had to open Old Glory, oversee the lunch service, change into something more presentable for a wedding, and get back to the Canadell house in time to tend bar.
“Charles stores it in the shed outside.” She led Boden and Rachel across the yard to a small outbuilding where a portable gas generator sat. The unit appeared high-powered enough to at least keep the lights, heat, and refrigerator going in the event of an outage.
“There are the extension cords.” Mrs. Canadell pointed. “Charles says the gasoline is on the top shelf in a red can.”
“Okay.” He turned to Rachel. “Do you know how to work it?”
“I think so. I have one for the bakery but have only had to use it twice.”
“You have some flashlights?” he asked Mrs. Canadell, and she opened a drawer in a work bench where there was at least a dozen. He’d give the Canadells credit; they came equipped for an emergency. “Let’s take a few of these into the house; that way one of us can make it back to the garage in the dark.”
He and Rachel scooped up a few and they returned to the kitchen. Kristi and Mrs. Canadell said their good-byes and took off.
“You gonna be okay without me?” he asked Rachel, who pulled a chef coat from her giant tote bag and began setting out ingredients.
“Of course.”
“You want me to give you a refresher on how to use the generator?”
“Boden, I run an entire business on my own. Before that I was second in command of legal for a multinational corporation.”
He cocked a brow. “Only second?”
The comment had been meant as a joke, but she didn’t take it too well, shooting daggers at him. “Take off. Do what you need to do.”
“All right.” He tested the coffeepot with his hand to see if it was still hot. “One more cup and I’m outta here.”
He watched her move around the kitchen as he mainlined caffeine. No makeup, her hair twisted up in a barrette, a pair of reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose, and he felt blood rush straight to his groin. She was something else. And, as far as he knew, single. There was a rumor that before Colt Garner got married she’d had a thing for him. But in a small town rumors weren’t too reliable. In any event, he’d never seen her with a guy at Old Glory or anywhere else for that matter.
Whatever her status was, she wasn’t interested in him. She’d made that perfectly clear when she’d rebuffed his innocent drink invitation. He could’ve sworn she recoiled when he’d asked. It
wasn’t like it was a date or anything. It was just a way to keep things friendly between them when the city made a decision on the mill house. By Boden’s estimation she was his only competition. No one else bidding was a real contender. A knitting store, an antiques mall, an artist collective were all nice ideas, but at the end of the day, did they make money? Boden sincerely doubted it. Judging by the lines around the block, Tart Me Up was a successful business with room to grow. And Old Glory . . . yeah, he was killing it. He just didn’t want any hard feelings when the city deemed him the winner.
“Thanks for the coffee.” He washed out his cup and grabbed his jacket. “See ya this afternoon.”
She glanced up from chopping vegetables. “Drive safely.”
“Keep this with you.” He stuck a flashlight in the pocket of her smock and walked out the back door.
The snow made it difficult to see as he inched down the driveway. He was three-quarters of the way down when he slammed on his brakes.
“Ah, crap!” he said out loud.
CHAPTER 5
Just as Rachel fell into a groove, the sound of an engine pulled her from her preparations. She shoved a lock of hair out of her eyes with her forearm and looked outside to see Boden’s pickup coming up the hill. What was he doing back?
The wind ripped through the trees so violently they looked ready to snap and flurries of white swirled in the air. She rushed across the kitchen and opened the door.
“What happened?”
He came inside, his face chapped from the cold. “A big oak came down and is covering the driveway. It’s too big to move and needs to be cut. Do you have a number for Kristi or Mrs. Canadell? They need to get someone out here, because no shuttle bus is getting around it.”
“Let me get my phone.” Rachel crossed the kitchen and searched through her tote bag. “I’m not getting a signal; how about you?”
“I’ve got one. What’s the number?”
She read it off and he told Kristi about the tree. “She’s on it.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “But I’m stuck here until it’s moved.”
Oddly enough, she was happy he was staying and told herself it was because it was spooky in an empty house in the middle of nowhere, alone. “Want something to eat? I can make you a few eggs.”
He appeared surprised by the offer. “Sure. Thanks, that’s really nice of you.”
“Occasionally, I can be nice. But don’t get too used to it,” she teased. “Are you freaking out about not getting to the bar?”
“Nah, I shot Ingrid a text. She’s got the keys and knows what to do.”
“Thank goodness I have Samantha. She’ll be running Tart Me Up, today. Luckily, we close early . . . we’re mostly staying open so people can pick up their Christmas orders.” Jeez, she was babbling. She never babbled.
Boden nodded and she busied herself making eggs, heating one of the yeast rolls, and pouring him a third cup of coffee. He sat at the center island watching her cook.
“Are we not talking about the elephant in the room?”
Oh boy, did he think she was attracted to him? Because she wasn’t. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The Old Watermill House. Don’t you want to know how my presentation went?”
Oh, that. “How did it go?” Honestly, she could live without knowing. It would only work her up. Her parents’ blatant disapproval would give her enough indigestion over the weekend. Lying awake at night wondering if Boden had beat her out on the mill house was only going to add another layer of stress.
But before he could answer, the lights flickered off and on.
She held her breath, waiting for it to happen again. “The wind doesn’t seem to be letting up.”
He stared out the window. “Nope.”
She reached for a plate in the cupboard and served him the eggs and the roll, which had browned to perfection. Good ovens.
“Why don’t you take half of this?”
“I ate before I came,” she said, and stood back while he dug in.
“Good,” he said around a bite of food.
People thought scrambled eggs were easy, but she knew better. To make them perfectly golden and soft enough to be custardy was an art form. “I’m glad you like them.”
He looked up and held her gaze. “How come you’re being so nice? You usually act like you don’t like me.”
Well, that had been blunt. “I like you just fine, but I view you as a competitor for something I want. Very badly.”
“The mill house?” He continued to lock eyes and consider her. “Yeah, I can see that. I want it, too. But even before that you didn’t like me.”
That wasn’t exactly true, but she had gone out of her way to avoid him, even when they were working the same parties. On those occasions, they usually butted heads. Neither of them wanted to relinquish control, she supposed. “Since we’re being honest here, you always seem a little full of yourself.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Where do you get that? I’m just a mild-mannered bartender.”
“Right.” She stifled an eye roll. Nothing about him was mild mannered. He walked into a room and people took notice. Not because he was the most handsome man alive but because he had a presence about him. A vibe that was all alpha.
A vibe that reminded her of Jeremy. There, she’d said it.
The lights flickered off again and she held her breath, hoping they would come back on. Staring out the window to gauge the winds, she felt him come up behind her.
“This time, I think it’s out for a while.” He reached inside her apron pocket and plucked out the flashlight. “I’ll give it a few minutes. If they don’t come back on, I’ll start the generator.”
She turned, realizing her mistake when she came up against his chest. He’d inadvertently boxed her in. They stood like that for a few seconds and then he quickly backed away.
“I can’t do much without electricity,” she said for the sake of breaking the awkward silence. It meant she’d get behind schedule.
“I’ll help you when we get the lights back on.”
“Do you think you should check with Kristi to see if they got someone to clear the tree away?”
“I’ll give them another twenty minutes or so. With the snow coming down the way it is, it won’t be easy finding someone.”
He pressed his hand into the small of her back and guided her to the breakfast room, where they sat around the table.
“You ever see a place like this?” In the dim room, she could see him examining the open-beam ceilings and hand-hewn logs.
“My parents’,” she said. “It’s not rustic like this, but it’s roughly the same size.”
He let out a whistle. “So, you’re a rich girl, huh?”
She chuckled. “No, I’m the daughter of well-to-do parents. How about you?”
“Not even close. At least not my mother. She worked for a mechanic, answering his phones and filing his paperwork. Never knew my father. The guy who for the most part raised me had a little money. He left it to me when he died and I used it to buy Old Glory.”
His openness surprised her. Boden had always seemed like the private type. “I’m sorry . . . was he the man in the picture above your desk?”
“Yep. Marine Gunnery Sergeant Jake Hornsby. One of a kind.”
“It sounds like you admired him.”
“I loved him.” The words were said with such poignancy they made her ache. That kind of raw emotion was another thing she hadn’t expected from Boden. Then again, she hardly knew him, but he seemed to be one of those guys who played it cool. Tough.
“I’m sorry you lost him.”
“Yeah, me too.” He glanced at his phone. “Five more minutes.”
“Five more minutes.” She nodded, hoping the power would come on by itself. “Good thing I did a lot of the prep work last night.”
“Not much to do as far as the bar.”
A tree branch scraped the window and she jumped. “Jeez,
it’s blowing out there.”
“Hopefully this is the worst of it.”
“The bride must be freaking out,” she said. “Has it been twenty minutes yet? I’ll go down with you.”
“No need.” He got up and shrugged into his jacket. “If the lights aren’t on by the time I come back I’ll fire up the generator.”
“I could do that while you’re gone.”
“Nah, why should we both freeze our asses off?”
“I just figured if the tree had been moved you could go back to town, to Old Glory.”
“I’d like to make sure everything is up and running first.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a ski cap over his head.
A part of her was relieved because she wasn’t sure she would know how to work the damn generator, but another part of her didn’t want to be reliant, especially not on Boden. “I should come, too, then.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You afraid of the dark?”
“No, but it’s a little eerie here alone.”
“Suit yourself, but you better bundle up.”
One look outside the window and she could see a layer of ice covering an ornate birdbath near the garage. The branches, heavy with snow, looked ready to snap. He helped her on with her jacket and she waited in the cab of his truck while he swept the snow off his windshield.
“I may have to shovel us out.” He got in the driver’s seat and after a few attempts managed to get traction.
They nosed their way down and he huffed out a curse. “No one’s here yet.” He stopped short and they got out to take a look.
“Whoa! It’s a good thing this didn’t fall on anything.” The tree was huge, maybe ten feet long and maybe five feet thick.
“No one is getting around it, that’s for sure.” Boden whipped out his phone. “No bars.”
She checked hers. “Me neither. Do you think anyone is even coming out?”
He shrugged. “Either Kristi couldn’t find anyone or they couldn’t get up the driveway. I suppose I could see if there’s a chainsaw in the garage and cut the tree up myself.”
“That would take hours, don’t you think?”