Baby It's Cold Outside

by Fox, Addison

  “Oh, Walker.” She tugged her hand from his grip and stood to cross the room. “Do you want to know about change? When I came up here I was a different person. I saw the world in a different way and I had expectations about people that I no longer have.”

  Sloan paused for a moment and knew if she was ever going to go for broke, this was the moment.

  “I had expectations about myself I no longer have.”

  When he didn’t say anything, she pressed on. “I’ve been here less than two weeks and I can feel the changes. The change in me and the changes I’ve chosen to make. Or would make if you weren’t such a—” she broke off, looking for his word.

  “—a fuckwit,” he supplied helpfully.

  “Yes. A fuckwit.”

  “I’m not worth it.”

  The sad part was that Walker Montgomery was the most worth it man she’d ever met. He was beyond worth it to her. Flaws and all.

  “I can’t fix that for you. You have to find it yourself. But suffice it to say, I don’t agree with you.”

  She reached for her discarded purse and coat where she’d dropped them on the way in.

  “Where are you going?”

  “You can sleep off your drunken stupor here. I’ll go sleep in Avery’s room.”

  “Sloan—” He broke off and didn’t say anything more.

  She moved across the room and the longing in his voice caught her at the knees when he spoke next. “What do you want?”

  Unbidden, she remembered her first impression of Amanda earlier that day. The bright, vibrant woman with the ready smile and an ocean of hope in her heart.

  She used to be that way and somewhere along the journey she’d lost it. Now she could admit she had lost the hope and the belief that went with it that somewhere there was someone special out there for her.

  It was time to get it back.

  “I want love, Walker. I want someone who puts me first and who I can do the same for. I want someone who wants to be with me for a lifetime, sharing all its ups and downs. I want someone who will take the risk to be with me.”

  “It’s not that simple, Sloan.”

  “Actually it is. I want to stop blowing my horn on New Year’s Eve.”

  At his thoroughly puzzled expression, she stepped forward, reached up and laid her lips against his. He lifted his hands to pull her close, but she backed away before he could wrap his arms around her.

  “I want to start each year with a kiss and I want to spend each and every day of each and every one of those years kissing the man I love. I’m sorry that man won’t be you.”

  It was long moments later, after Avery had opened her door and gestured her toward the spare room.

  After Sloan had dressed in an old pair of thermal pajamas and snuggled down in Avery’s spare room bed.

  After the lights were off and each passing minute took her farther and farther away from Walker that Sloan finally allowed the tears to fall.

  Walker abstractly heard one of the studs from his tuxedo hit the hardwood floor, but couldn’t muster up enough interest to look for it.

  How could he have been so stupid?

  Struggling to sit up on his couch, he took stock of the previous evening. A quick catalog of his raging headache and increasingly uncomfortable feet where they were still poured into dress shoes offered a few clues.

  But it was the knowledge that he’d let Sloan walk out that confirmed what an ass he’d been.

  Toeing off the shoes, he padded in his socks to the kitchen to start coffee and figure out a game plan. He might have spent half of his thirty-six years acting like a noncommittal jerk when it came to women, but it didn’t take a two-by-four to the head—or a wicked hangover—to convince him of the truth.

  In all his adult life, he’d never met a woman like Sloan.

  As the smell of coffee reached him, offering the promise of relief, he started to hatch a plan.

  He might not deserve Sloan McKinley, but he’d be damned if he’d let that fact stand in his way.

  Sloan focused on making all the arrangements to leave Indigo ahead of schedule. She had phone numbers for everyone she’d met and could finish up whatever interviews weren’t yet complete. But it was time to go home.

  In exactly one hour, Jack Rafferty would be waiting for her in the lobby of the Indigo Blue to fly her to Anchorage.

  Grier and Avery had understood her decision fully as they spent all day Sunday commiserating and lying around Avery’s room watching bad TV. Beyond the two of them, no one else needed to know of her change in plans.

  She’d send fruit baskets to Mary, Julia and Sophie with a nice apology as to how she needed to get home. And if they read between the lines and recognized her actions for what they were—escape—well, so be it.

  The town was quiet as she trudged down Main Street, the day gloomy and dreary and full of the winter doldrums.

  An exact match for her mood.

  The lights of the diner beckoned, a warm beacon in that unique twilight that was late morning in Alaska. She briefly contemplated pancakes, but ultimately passed on the idea when she realized there were enough people in the diner that she’d be forced to make conversation. So she trudged on, walking determinedly toward her destination.

  As she got closer to it, Sloan tried to consider the love monument at the edge of town with some degree of objectivity.

  It was a large statue—nothing more, nothing less.

  And yet it was more.

  It was a symbol. A symbol for a belief and for a way of life. A symbol that said there were some things in life that simply meant more.

  Were worth more.

  That there were some things that were worth fighting for.

  Kneeling down at the base of the monument, she pulled the ugly hat out of her pocket that she wore the day of the snowball fight. The first day she and Walker had made love.

  The ugly hat and its corresponding label—TASTY’S BAIT AND TACKLE—brought a soft smile to her face as she ran her hands over the embroidery.

  And with it the memory that in this god-awful ugly hat, Walker had thought she was beautiful.

  Folding it so that the embroidery was visible, she laid the hat in front of the monument, below the inscription that had spoken to her from the first moment she’d read it.

  For those we aren’t allowed to keep.

  Standing, she turned around and walked back down Main Street toward the waiting lights of the Indigo Blue.

  Myrtle greeted Walker as he let himself into the office. “’Bout time you got in.”

  “It’s eight o’clock, Myrtle. You’re never here this early.”

  “I’m here today. And I expect my boss to beat me to work.”

  Unwilling to be baited by her incessant logic and endless harping, he walked into his office and slammed the door. It was rude and uncalled for, but if she didn’t already know why he was in a foul mood, it was only a matter of time.

  The town grapevine was no doubt already ablaze about a bachelor and bachelorette who were not present at Saturday-night’s auction.

  At a light knock on the door he hollered out a surly, “What!”

  “Here’s some coffee for you.” Myrtle held out a steaming mug of dark, black coffee. “I made it just the way you like it. With about four teaspoons of sugar.”

  “Thanks.”

  She walked over with her hand extended and he had the insane urge to check and see if the contents on his desk had rearranged themselves at the spawn of Satan’s sudden act of kindness.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She marched back to the doorway, her expression thoughtful. As she pulled the door closed behind her, she turned to offer one last comment. “Rumor has it Sloan McKinley’s chartered a flight with Jack that leaves in about an hour. You can sit there and wallow or you can do something about it.”

  Sloan was leaving?

  For as horrible as Saturday evening was, he had been sure he could figure a way out of this.

  Could
find a way to make things right between them.

  He just needed some time with her. And a plan to make her listen to reason.

  “That can’t be possible. Jack would have told me.”

  Myrtle shrugged. “Facts are facts.”

  “Is that supposed to be some sort of advice?” Walker bit out the words.

  “If I’m giving advice, you’ll know it. Like now. I suggest you either get your head out of your ass and do something about stopping that plane from leaving or shut the fuck up and let the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to you walk out of your life.”

  He choked on his mouthful of coffee as her last words registered.

  “Nod once if you understand me.”

  He nodded once.

  Sloan clicked off her cell phone with shaking hands. Her editor had loved the notes she’d e-mailed and was anxiously awaiting the final piece. They even had a name all picked out for it—The Bachelor Game—and they were already brainstorming titles for her next article due in a few weeks.

  And then Serena had hit her with the really big news.

  If she wanted it, there was an editorial job waiting for her, managing one of the travel magazine’s sections both in print and in all their various digital formats. In addition to her overall ownership of the section, they were willing to send her around the world for articles and they’d offered a very generous salary to boot.

  The brass ring.

  She’d been reaching for it for so long—working with determination and diligence—it was so strange to think that it had finally arrived.

  So why did it feel far emptier than she’d ever imagined?

  Sloan collapsed back on the bed and eyed her suitcases sitting near the door. Her heavy down coat lay on top and the sight brought a well of tears she couldn’t hold back.

  Had it really been no more than a week ago when she bought that coat in Sandy’s store?

  How had everything she’d known—the very foundation of her life—changed so quickly?

  A knock on the door pulled her from her misery and she swiped at the tears. What had happened to that resolution she’d made to herself? The one that convinced her to leave Walker.

  To be hopeful and happy and ready to embrace what the world had to offer?

  “In the new year,” she promised herself on a whisper as she moved to open the door. “In the new year.”

  “I need your help.” Walker burst into his grandmother’s office and barely caught the door from slamming on its hinges.

  “What’s wrong?” Sophie stared up from behind her desk, worry lining her eyes and weighing on her like a heavy blanket.

  “It’s Sloan. She’s leaving.”

  “I know.”

  Walker ran a hand through his hair and tugged hard on the ends. “If you know, why didn’t you tell me instead of Myrtle?”

  “I’m done interfering.”

  “Well, it’s terrible timing. I need you to do it one more time.”

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Love, Grandmother. It’s smacked me upside the head and it won’t let me go.”

  The worry seemed to lift from her shoulders as she stood to her full height behind the desk. “What can I do?”

  “Sloan, I’m sorry but we need to make a little detour.”

  “Oh, okay.” Sloan looked up from where she was organizing the airline tickets she’d printed off in the Indigo’s business center. Her eyes were still wet from crying with Avery and Grier as she hugged them good-bye and a few extra minutes to pull herself together was likely a good thing.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get you to Anchorage in plenty of time.”

  She offered Jack a small smile. “I’m not worried.”

  He started up the truck and pulled onto Main Street, driving through the center of town. Sloan kept her attention diverted, fumbling in her tote bag for her phone to keep busy. She didn’t want to look out the windows for fear of seeing Walker.

  “This will only take a minute.”

  She never looked up from her phone. “Take whatever time you need.”

  Walker held the banner in his hands, the heavy vinyl rolled up tight. He’d seen it in his grandmother’s office and had suddenly known exactly what he needed to do.

  Crossing the small space between the sidewalk and the monument, he pulled a length of rope out of his pocket to secure the banner. As he crunched on the snow, his attention caught on something wedged against the monument.

  Setting the banner down, he started to reach out and realized it was someone’s hat. He almost left it where it lay before his gaze caught on the embroidery on the front.

  TASTY’S BAIT AND TACKLE

  And he knew.

  Sloan had left it there.

  Reaching down, he noticed where she’d placed the hat. Just beneath the inscription that had made her cry.

  For those we aren’t allowed to keep.

  Like the flip of a switch, Walker saw his entire life illuminated. He blinked a few times, slightly disoriented, but with each passing second, things came into clearer focus.

  He’d been the worst kind of idiot.

  But if he were lucky, the woman he loved would forgive him anyway.

  With renewed purpose, he unrolled the banner.

  “Here. Let me help you with that.” Bear walked up, his arm extended to grab the side Walker was unrolling.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “I’ll help you tie it down.” Skate walked up behind Bear and offered a hand.

  As Walker looked up, he saw the rest of the townsfolk walking toward them, his grandmother right in front, leading the charge. When she got close enough to stand beside him, he leaned down to give her a hug and whispered in her ear, “What is this?”

  “A grand gesture, my darling. If you’re going to eat crow, you might as well eat a very public portion.”

  Walker crushed his grandmother to him in a bear hug and knew then and there that everything he needed to know about how to love someone had come from the extraordinary woman in his arms.

  Everything.

  “Sloan?”

  “Yes, Jack?”

  “Um, it looks like Main Street’s blocked.”

  “What?” Sloan reluctantly pulled her gaze from her phone and was surprised to see what appeared to be the entire town gathered on the street. “Is that the monument?”

  “Yep.”

  “What’s everyone doing here?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s go check.”

  “Jack. Wait—”

  Before she could stop him, he was out of the car and heading for her side to open her door.

  “Oh, I don’t think we need to—”

  “Come on. Let’s go find out what it is. I hope it’s not one of the grandmothers.”

  At the idea something could be wrong with Sophie, Mary or Julia, Sloan took his hand as he helped her out of his truck.

  Please no, she prayed as they worked their way through the crowd. No, no, no.

  The crowd parted, which was odd, but she didn’t pay a whole lot of attention in her rush to get to the front.

  And that’s when she saw it.

  And him.

  Walker stood under the monument, twisting her ugly hat in his hands as a heavy banner hung behind him. Nearly all the words were scratched out in black marker with new ones written above it to take their place.

  WALKER MONTGOMERY LOVES . SLOAN MCKINLEY, WILL YOU BE MINE FOREVER?

  She froze in place as she seemed to lose control of her limbs.

  “Walker?” She couldn’t stop looking from his face to the words behind him.

  “It’s all I had on short notice.”

  Sloan stared up at him, her red-rimmed eyes dewy and wet.

  Several things ran through his head as he looked at her and Walker wanted to give voice to them all, but no words came out.

  All he could do was drink her in. And then he realized there were only a precious few words that mattered.

  “I lo
ve you, Sloan.”

  Tears filled her eyes, but he kept on.

  “I love you. I know I’ve been the worst kind of asshole and I don’t blame you if you never want to see me again, but . . . even if you don’t want to see me ever again, I’m not giving you a choice. I want to be with you. In New York. In Indigo. Somewhere in between. I really don’t care where. As long as we’re together.”

  “Walker.”

  “We’re not giving you a choice either, Miz Sloan,” Bear chimed in before she could say anything else.

  A resounding chorus of “no way’s” echoed Bear’s words.

  Walker saw his grandmother move forward to stand next to him and watched as she laid her hand on Sloan’s arm. “As mayor of this town, I’d like to formally address my constituents’ plea.”

  “You would?” Sloan couldn’t seem to hold the smile back any longer.

  “Yes, dear, I would. You’re one of us now. And we don’t like to let go of our own. You belong here in Indigo.”

  “Well, then. How can I resist?” Sloan moved into his arms and stepped up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands immediately went to her hips, drawing her even closer, the feeling of finally having her in his grasp the last proof he needed to know he was really home.

  “Walker. You can spend the rest of our lives making everything up to me. But for now”—she pressed her lips to his—“shut up and kiss me.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice.

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  Epilogue

  Walker reveled in how good it felt to have Sloan in his arms as they lay curled on her overstuffed couch. They’d been in New York for the holidays and he’d willingly made the rounds through Westchester with her to visit family and friends.

  But he’d put his foot down for New Year’s Eve.

  This night was all theirs.

  They’d run through hundreds of ideas for how to ring in the new year, and had ultimately settled on eating Chinese food and watching TV in her living room.