was jet-lagged beyond reason.
That hot shower sounded too good to delay another minute, so opening up my suitcase, I found some comfy track pants and a long-sleeved shirt and my bag of toiletries and went across the hall.
The bathroom had been updated recently by my guess. New white subway tiles on the walls, dark grey on the floor, a matching vanity, and a simple mirror. All the taps and faucets were a matte black industrial style and the towel rack was matching black industrial pipe, which was very cool and not what I expected at all. But then I remembered that Ren ran the local hardware store, so it kind of made sense.
He was intriguing, that was for sure. Not to mention gorgeous. I wasn’t kidding when I said my meeting him was straight out of a Hallmark movie. He was country-rugged and charming, polite and generous, had the cutest accent I’d ever heard, and the bluest eyes . . .
I definitely got a gay vibe from Ren. Not that I could ever be certain. Not like me . . . People knew I was gay the second I opened my mouth or waved my hand around. I’d always leaned to the feminine side, despite my beard. But Ren was definitely a man’s man, and if he were in a gay bar, he’d be labelled a cub or even a bear, given he looked to be in his early thirties. But his gaze lingered a touch longer than a straight guy’s normally would, and not forgetting he named his dog after Legally Blonde, and he loved Schitt’s Creek. Not that one needed to be gay to like either of these things, but a single guy living by himself in the middle of nowhere? Wouldn’t a straight guy name his dog after . . . well, I had no idea what a straight guy would call his dog. I didn’t know many straight guys to pass stereotypical judgement.
Wait. Was he single? Why was I presuming that? Why was I interested?
There was a very good chance I’d be leaving tomorrow and would never see him again.
And that would be a shame. I wanted to know more about him. I didn’t know why, or what it was about him that intrigued me, but as I scrubbed the grime of the day away and changed into my comfy clothes, I was determined to find out.
I dumped my dirty clothes in my room and took his fluffy socks back out to the living room. Chutney was asleep by the fire. Ren wasn’t there but I could hear him talking and what sounded like a whole bunch of static. “No, no injuries. He’s fine. Over . . . A sedan, four-door. About halfway between my place and Tucker’s driveway. Over . . . Thank you. Over . . .”
I pulled the socks on and followed the sound of his voice. Through the kitchen there was a doorway into what looked like a mudroom. There was a chest freezer in the corner, a built-in stand thing with a rack for coats and hats and a bench seat with a spot for boots underneath. There was also an old cabinet that Ren was leaning on with a CB radio like the truck drivers use. He smiled when I walked in and hung up the receiver. “McGee’s are on their way to pull your car out.”
“Now? What time is it?” I turned to the windows on the back wall. If I looked past the snow sticking to the windows, it was pretty dark out.
Ren nodded. “It’s four o’clock.”
“God. It feels like midnight.”
He smiled. “Feel better after a shower?”
“So much better, thank you. I almost feel human.”
“You must be tired.”
“Yeah, but I probably should go change again if the tow truck guys are coming.”
“They’ll be towing it back to the shop. I told them it wouldn’t start.” Then he frowned. “I can ask him to drop it off here if you’d prefer. Sorry, I should have asked.”
“Uh, no, the shop is fine. I’ll need them to fix it or the rental company can get me another one, or something. I don’t know how that works, to be honest. I need to read over the fine print again.”
“Okay, so did you want me to see if Ronny can get a message to your sister?”
“Oh yes, please. She’s probably beside herself.”
Ren put his big warm hand on my shoulder. “So where does she live?”
“Mossley, Idaho. 164 Fairbrook Road.”
“Her name?”
“Oh, sorry. Olivia Hampton.