Holiday with You - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,15

positive her shoulders stiffen. But they relax before I can be certain.

“I’m not familiar with them. And I’ve been here all my life.”

Is she dodging me? I find it unbelievable that no one around here seems to know anything about the owner of the B&B. I don't know anything about her because other members of the Capell-Stanley Hotels team handled the research. And it was shoddy at best. I’d barely had time for my own search on the internet, much less to look at the few files Aurora had given me. That’s why I’d decided to go the old-fashioned route by looking at the library.

“Specifically Anna Beth Grant.”

This time I watch carefully for any signs she recognizes the name. Nothing.

“Don’t know her either.” She peruses the shelves for a moment before she stops and hefts one of the massive volumes onto the table. “If who you’re looking for is in one of these books, it would be this one.” She taps the top.

“Thank you.” I make myself at home in one of the chairs and slide the book toward me.

“Are you sure you aren’t more interested in the Bradfords?” She winks. “I know men aren’t as concerned with fashion as we are, but when he left the B&B this morning, he was definitely wearing the same clothes as he was wearing yesterday.”

My eyes round and the coffee in my stomach goes sour. I’m used to coming and going as I please with no one even looking up. Guess it’s a different story here.

“Why do you think my desk is by the front window? I know everything in here.” She waves her hand around the space. “Being nosy about what’s out there is more interesting.”

I drop my jaw and quickly close it. “I-I…” Words fail me.

She grins, and I wish I had the covers to pull over my head again.

“See.” She points behind me. “Out the window is a much better view.”

I’m a little scared to turn around but do it anyway.

And she’s totally right.

Colin is definitely wearing different clothes than this morning. He’s smiling so big I’m pretty sure his face might split in two.

And then I see why.

He’s holding hands with a little girl who could be his mini-me. She skips ahead as far as their linked hands will allow and looks like she’s taunting him.

He scoops her up and twirls her around. I wish the window was open so I could hear their laughter.

Now his big hurry to exit makes more sense.

He had someone to get home to.

Chapter Eight

Audrey

The library was a bust.

No one with the last name of Grant had been a part of Winter Valley’s history since they’d started recording it. In 1842.

Or at least it wasn’t in the books I’d been searching.

So I decide to check on my rental at Morgan’s Auto Repair & Body Shop. Might as well get something accomplished today.

I’ve failed at finding Anna Beth Grant so far. She’s a ghost in the town history books and on the internet. My way out of here is the next most important thing.

“Hello, Unicorn.” Morgan leans against the counter of his shop, holding a white Styrofoam cup.

“Why aren’t you working on my car?”

From the looks of it, he’s been on break all morning.

“You brought the nickname on yourself, you know.” He takes a casual sip of the steaming liquid, ignoring my question. “Want some cocoa?”

Heck yeah, I want some. But that cup terrifies me. That’s the dirty dishwater coffee type of cup. And if he’s as good at making hot chocolate as his brother is at instant coffee . . . no thank you.

“I’ll pass. Thanks.” I take off my mittens and shove them in my coat pockets. “Any word on when my rental will be ready? Like today maybe?” I use my marshmallow sweet voice in an attempt to get what I want.

“What’s your hurry? I thought you were looking for—what’s her name again?” He breaks off a bit of sugar cookie frosted with green icing.

How is he not bouncing off the walls?

“I thought the cookies weren’t until three,” I say, now craving hot chocolate and cookies.

“They are at the B&B. But here, it’s cookies all day.”

I want to wipe the smirk off his face, but instead, I swipe an angel cookie out of the box. He should put those words on a neon sign and hang it in his window. Cookies all day.

“Hey. I offered you hot chocolate, not my cookies.” He half-heartedly attempts to grab it before he sulks. “Becky made