Up to Snow Good: A Small Town Holiday Romance Page 4

Despite what had to be an endless list of faults, there was bound to be some sentimental attachment that would keep her there even if she would be better off letting it go.

  He tried to convince himself that it might be worse to lock herself up with all those memories. A fresh start might be exactly what she needed. Further thought only assured him she needed a change.

  That big, musty old place was no life for a vibrant young woman. She should run a thriving little café and live in a nice condo, something befitting a modern woman, a person with a future and not just a sad past.

  He nodded to himself, reassured that she needed him, and she needed change, even if she failed to see that at first.

  What was important now was to convince his pop to offer her a lucrative deal. How to sell that to his cheap-ass dad was the next hurdle. Treating Lauren fairly was a must.

  The sun cut through the clouds, and a sharp glare stabbed his eyes. The barren landscape lacked the green of spring and the white of winter. Moss Creek was a place without a season.

  He drove to the house with a feeling of trepidation. His stomach turned with a nervousness he always had when he was about to give his father unpleasant news.

  Ten minutes later, in his father’s study, Max’s expectations were received as expected—with anger.

  “You didn’t even make the offer?” His father grumbled.

  “It wasn’t the right time. How is it going to look if I show up with a lowball offer right when she’s at her worst?” He hated being in this position at all. He always found himself as the middleman, and it wasn’t a job he loved. Somehow, he was always stuck between a rock and a hard place, which was usually his father’s bad and worse decisions.

  “How’s it going to look if somebody else makes an offer first?”

  His father had a point, and it was always better to challenge him indirectly, so he nodded in agreement. “I get why you’re concerned, but I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  Pop looked him over, grimacing before he jammed a Cuban into his mouth, and pulled his cheeks in to stoke the burning ember. Through a puff of smoke, he said, “Then what’s the problem?”

  “There isn’t one, it’s all under control.”

  He nodded, but his snarl held fast. “That had better be true, Max.” After a prolonged pause, he went on, “You’re not kids anymore. Don’t let your childhood crush ruin our business deals.”

  “Childhood? Pop, c’mon.” The first time he and Lauren made love, he didn’t feel like a child. He felt like a man who could give her anything from pleasure to a nice life. He was wrong.

  “Don’t give me that. She’s not at all unattractive, and I’m not so old that I can’t see it, but that will not happen, not then and not now. Those bridges were lit on fire long ago.”

  Max didn’t need a reminder, and he wouldn’t tell his father he was trying to build them again, plank by plank. “I know how you feel about it, but—”

  “But nothing. Those Matthews can’t be trusted!” The smoke whooshed from his mouth like a misfire from an angry dragon.

  “Pop—”

  His father held up his hand. “I didn’t raise you to be a fool.”

  Max held back his anger because nothing good would come of it. His father was like an open can of kerosene just waiting for a match. Max refused to light him up. “I went to see her like you asked, nothing is happening.”

  “Better keep it that way,” he said. “I’m still running things around here, and you’ve got a lot to learn.”

  He offered his father a complacent stare when he wanted to offer him a fist. “I’m eager to learn.”

  His father glared at him, seemingly unconvinced. “Next time you see her, make the offer.”

  “That’s the plan.” He cleared his throat and took in a breath, prepping for the rest. This next part would make his father apoplectic. “About the price.”

  “Lowball the comps.” Pulling several pages from his desk, his father returned to the day’s business.

  Max took a step back. “That’s the thing. She’ll turn down a lowball offer.”

  “We’ll meet her halfway in a counteroffer.”

  Max shook his head. He might press Lauren to sell, but he wouldn’t rip her off. “I don’t think so.”

  “And why’s that?”

  Max wasn’t happy about the strategy that popped into his head, but it seemed the best way to achieve the most humane outcome. “She’s not crazy about our family either. You’re not the only one who carries a grudge.”

  “Too bad.”

  “It will make it easier to turn us down, just on principle. A lowball offer may set her off, and she could take a lesser offer just to spite us.”

  His father seemed to give it some thought, puffing on that cigar. “She’s a real hothead, huh?”

  Max recalled her sweet smile and her gentle strength. “She’s a redhead,” he said as if that implied she had a hot temper, which wasn’t true. Lauren had the most easygoing disposition of any woman he’d ever known.

  “Yeah.” He pondered a moment more. “Fine, offer ten percent over the market value, and make sure she knows that’s a damn good deal. Let her try to find a buyer that would pay more. And don’t negotiate.” He snapped. “I’m not paying one penny over the ten. If she balks, she balks. I won’t play games here.”

  “You never do.” That wasn’t the truth. Eaton Hunter was all about the games. That wasn’t true either. He was all about winning the game, no matter the cost.

  Chapter Ten

  Lauren

  Lauren wasn’t excited to see Sam’s sedan pull up to the lodge. She wasn’t expecting a friendly visit and didn’t have it in her to feign happiness.

  He stepped out with a smile she’d seen from a lot of faces recently. He meant it to be reassuring; however, it was the pitying look a doctor gave a patient before delivering a bad prognosis. The lodge was terminal, but it wasn’t ready to take the final blow. But it was coming and hoped that her ideas, while untraditional for the area, were exactly what she needed for a cure.

  She welcomed him inside and asked, “Would you join me for tea?”

  He nodded and followed her to the table, where they sat across from one another.

  Ruthie brought out hot tea, including little china pitchers of milk, sugar, along with a variety of sugar cookies and wafers.

  “I might have a plan,” she started.

  He lifted a brow. “I’m all ears.”

  She told him about Ruthie’s idea.

  “A Santa’s Village?” He appeared to give it some thought as he blew on his hot tea.

  “Maybe not Santa so much. I mean, I’d want to go quaint with the theme—old-fashioned—more like a Father Christmas kind of thing. You know, bring a little old-world charm to the holiday.”

  He rocked his head from side to side and nibbled the star off the top of the Christmas tree cookie.

  Lauren wondered if that was a subliminal sign to represent the death of her dream. He’d gobbled up the light.

  “It’s not a bad idea.”

  She perked up with the buoyancy of hope running through her veins. “I thought we might get the locals involved, get them to contribute in the spirit of the season.” She figured anything that would bring them an opportunity to earn extra income was a good thing.

  He nodded. “Could be nice. Not sure what it will do long term to save the lodge, though. You’re trying to patch a gaping hole in the dam with a piece of gum.”

  Lauren shook her head, already knowing where the conversation was going.

  “I understand it won’t save me long term, but it’s all I’ve got for now. I just need a moment of remission so I can find a real remedy.”

  Sam seemed to read her expression, but it wouldn’t have taken much insight for him to know what she was thinking. Everyone expected her to sell.

  “Have you given any more thought to selling?”

  There it is. She sighed and set down her tea. “I have.”

  He
brightened up, growing two inches in front of her. “And?”

  “And I don’t want to.”

  He deflated like a popped balloon, sinking into his chair as the air rushed from his lungs. “Lauren, I know you don’t want to, but life isn’t always about what we want, you know that as well as anybody.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. A cold hollow feeling twisting inside her belly was an ever-present reminder of what she was living through.

  “There is something else,” his cheeks turned hot pink.

  She turned, refocusing her attention on his suddenly awkward demeanor. “What is it?”

  “This is um.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve known each other for quite some time now. And while you’ve been gone, I’ve had a lot of time to think about you—about us. I’ve been your family’s accountant for years, and in that time, I’ve grown fond of you; personally, I mean.”

  Her heart stilled. Not in an, I’m flattered way, but in the oh, hell no way. “Sam—”

  He held up his hand to stop her mid-sentence. “I realize this is sudden, but that’s the way life is, things happen unexpectedly.”

  “Sam, that’s so sweet, but …” What the hell is happening to my life? The last man she would consider having feelings for her was Sam. Sure they knew each other, but it was in passing—weekends during college when she’d come home for a visit and later during the times she’d taken longer vacations.

  “If you’re not interested, I understand, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t put it out there. Whatever you want, that’s what I want for you.”

  “Like I said, it’s sweet that you care.”

  “I’m not just being sweet. I wouldn’t have mentioned it at all, but sometimes life is strange, and surprising things happen.”

  “I’m very flattered.”

  Sam nodded, the awkwardness between them unmistakable and almost intolerable. “Just think about it.”

  One glance at Ruthie told her she’d heard the entire conversation and had ideas of her own when it came to Sam.

  Once Sam left, Lauren walked into the kitchen, shaking her head.

  “I don’t know what to make of it, Ruthie.”

  Ruthie clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “You make him a husband, Lauren.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Letting Sam into their books was one thing, but into her heart and body was another.

  Ruthie shrugged. “He’s a good man, and you know him.”

  “I hardly know him, and I don’t love him. All these years, and he’s been harboring feelings? It’s just too weird and unbelievable.”

  “Dat how love is sometimes, child! You must choose wisely, and not that Hunter man with his song and dance.”

  “It was just a song, there was no dancing,” Lauren said, knowing what her old friend meant. If she closed her eyes, she could remember when they were teens and the way he held her and moved her around the room to music. Their bodies fit together like yin and yang—perfectly.

  Ruthie wagged her finger in front of Lauren. “You are like my own, and I speak to you like I do my child. You need a man—every woman needs a man, and a child to call your own.”

  “I don’t need a man. I’ll have a man when it’s right for me, and only I get to choose when it’s right for me.”

  “What right man will find you up on this hill? No man will seek you out here.”

  “Not true. Sam did.”

  Lauren took her thoughts to the lobby, drifting among the guests to offer refreshments. She couldn’t get her mind off Sam’s confession or Ruthie’s endorsement.

  Not that Sam wasn’t perfectly good-looking and successful, because he was, and to marry him meant she wouldn’t be living on the street, but even he couldn’t save the lodge, not that she would marry a person for that purpose. She refused to be a prize rewarded for a shrewd business deal.

  She drifted toward the big windows overlooking the expansive backyard. Frazier pines and scrub oak filled the landscape, and thoughts of her bizarre meeting continued to fill her head.

  Sam wasn’t a bad person. He was a hardworking and decent man and had always done right by them. He treated her father well, which was an important factor, but she never thought about him that way.

  She sighed and searched herself for any sign of attraction, for the thrill she found instantly seeing Max walk into the lobby, the nervousness she felt watching him sing and play that piano, but there was none. Looking at Sam aroused as much passion as watching paint dry.

  Ruthie’s scolding sounded loud in her head, but her own thoughts drowned that out. She wouldn’t enter into a relationship based on anything but love. As she pondered love, she thought about Max.

  All that nonsense that happened so long ago with their parents had nothing to do with them. The destruction of their affection for one another shouldn’t have happened in the first place, but it did, and it kept them apart all these years.

  Maybe this was their second chance to revisit first love and right the wrongs. They’d always gotten along, and they had fun today. The attraction was still there. It ignited every cell in her body.

  He wasn’t with anyone because gossip traveled quickly in small towns, and since her return, she’d heard nothing about him tied to any woman.

  There wasn’t a ring on his finger or hers.

  She reminded herself that thoughts of a lost love wouldn’t take away the problems she faced. Any notion of getting together with Max died years ago. She didn’t understand why they surfaced now. Was it her age? At twenty-eight, she wasn’t getting any younger. No, it was because, after years of relative stability, she was suddenly without family, and her family home was in jeopardy. Crazily enough, she had two men pulling her in different directions for different reasons.

  Things were happening too fast. Her world felt like quicksand sinking out from beneath her. All she could do was hold on, wait, and see what else would come crashing down around her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Max

  Max waited for as long as he could before going back to Sunshine Lodge. He tried to imagine himself as a rescuer, a hero to a woman in need. The property burdened her, and it would liberate her to free herself from it. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

  Strolling around the backyard, he found her mumbling about a Santa’s Village. Pointing to different places in the landscape and saying words like carolers and reindeer.

  “Santa’s Village?” he asked.

  She spun around at the sound of his voice and smiled.

  “Yes, hear me out.”

  She spent the next few minutes telling him the details. He could envision the old world feel she spoke about; a reindeer petting zoo, hayrides, and cookies. It struck him as charming, and something the locals would enjoy.

  “That’s something the local paper would cover,” Max said. “It would also be good for the vendors. There’s no better advertisement than word of mouth.”

  “Exactly,” Lauren said, her excitement building. “I mean, I know it’s just a quick fix, but it’s something.”

  They walked on while Lauren looked around the property, the cool winter air brisk and invigorating.

  “My accountant wants me to sell the lodge.”

  “Does he?” Max could already imagine his father smirking.

  “He says I can’t afford to keep it, and he’s probably right.” She looked around, and he could see the sadness in her eyes. “My father and mother loved this place so much. After New York, it was like a different world, you know? Natural. Beautiful. Pure.” She took another deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I hate to think I let them down somehow.”

  “I don’t think it’s fair to put it that way,” he said. “The lodge had been struggling for a while now, am I right?”

  She nodded with a sad smile. “No snow.”

  “That’s not your fault.”

  “No, but I still feel somehow that this is my legacy—my parents’ gift to me. To walk away from it is like walk
ing away from them.”

  He understood her need to make them proud. It was one reason he still worked for his father. The greatest joy for a parent was their child, and even more so if they made them proud. Then there was the deep loss of leaving everything behind.

  “I know how you feel. We buried my mother on our property, and letting some stranger build on it is unthinkable and yet …”

  She nodded, but Max knew he hadn’t made his point.

  “Honestly, no matter who owns the land, it wouldn’t bring her back, and it wouldn’t bring her pain. All that angst would come from me, and my perception of things, not hers. My father wouldn’t be so sentimental, but then again, he worships his own mother, so who knows. He’s not a bad man, my father’s just—”

  “No,” Lauren said, “I don’t think he’s bad. I don’t believe anyone is inherently bad.”

  He’d said too much and allowed himself to get too close to the truth, but something about her, and his past relationship with her, challenged his need to charm her for his family’s benefit because it wasn’t right.

  “Anyway,” Max said, “you don’t have to decide today.”

  “I know. I don’t have much time, but I’ve got a little.”

  “I’ll ask around about the Santa’s Village, and work on pulling the details together?” This decision wouldn’t make his father happy, but he had to live with himself and the decisions he made. Destroying Lauren would never sit right with him.

  “Would you?” She seemed to perk up, and a twinkle of light danced in her dull eyes. “Well, that’s very nice of you. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  He waved her off. “It’s not that big of a deal. Half the town are our tenants, the rest will be glad to get in on it for their own benefit. I think it’s a good idea.” He took her hand in his and gently led her away. “C’mon.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To make things happen.” He walked her to his SUV and helped her inside before jetting around and taking the wheel. He gunned the engine and could feel her excitement. The tires kicked up loose gravel as he drove forward.