Tic-Tac-Mistletoe - N.R. Walker Page 0,9
for far too long and I’ve taken up enough of your time. If I could call a tow truck for the car, that’d be great.”
“Well, actually you can’t.”
What? I can’t use his phone? Is he . . . ? “Oh. But you said you’re not a serial killer, and—”
He laughed again. “No, the phone lines are down. And honestly, Hamish, this storm is set in and it’s getting dark out. I don’t think you should be driving at night, even if we could get your car out.”
But . . . but . . . “Where am I supposed to stay? Is there a hotel in Hartbridge?”
He made a face. “There’s a motel, but they were closed when I left town. Had the no-vacancy sign up, and I can’t even call them to ask for you.”
“Can I email them? Do emails even work?” Oh God. “How can I call a taxi? Or Uber? My sister is going to start calling the police, thinking I’m missing or dead. I called her when I landed in LA. She was so excited. I haven’t seen her in four years.” I let my head fall back onto the couch, every hour of missed sleep now settling inside my bones. “Everything is such a disaster.”
“I have a spare bedroom,” Ren said quietly. Then he cleared his throat. “I have two spare rooms, actually. It’s not what you’re probably used to, coming from a city and all. But it’s warm and dry, and you can barely keep your eyes open.” He stood up and took my empty mug and walked into the kitchen. “I have a CB radio. I can put a call in for your car, and they’ll tow it as soon as they’re able. And I can notify the local sheriff. See if he can get word to your sister.”
I stood up, keeping the blanket around my shoulders, and found Ren leaning against the kitchen cupboard, arms crossed and trying to be casual. “You’d do that?” I asked.
He ran his hand over his face and nodded to the kitchen window. All I could see was white. “No one’s going anywhere right now, and you’re just about dead on your feet. We’ll see what it looks like outside come morning.”
I was so grateful and so damn tired, I could have cried. “Thank you.”
He smiled, real brief and real beautiful. “You’re welcome. There’s a shower too, if you’ve been travelling all day. Might make you feel better.”
“I do feel kinda gross,” I admitted. “Being on planes and in airports leaves you grimy, you know?”
Ren shrugged. “Well, no. I’ve never been on a plane before. Or even in an airport.”
Now it was my turn to stare at him. “Never?”
He shook his head sadly. “Nope.”
“Wow. Does my expression match your ‘you’ve never seen snow?’ face?”
That earned me a bit of a smile. “I’ve travelled a bit here. Spent some time in LA and I’ve been to Canada. It’s just up the road, really.” He shrugged. “But this is my home. Not just this house. Hartbridge, I mean. This town is my home.”
“You’re lucky,” I murmured. “Having a place where you know you belong.”
He met my gaze, eyes flashing with something I couldn’t quite read. “You don’t have that back in Sydney?”
I shook my head. “I’m here in the States for two years. My sister is here and I was kinda lost back home, so she suggested I come visit and see how I liked it.”
“Lost?”
“Just . . . floundering. I dunno how to explain it. Like you said, you know this town is your home. Well, I’m the opposite of that. I never felt at home there. I wasn’t happy, so I quit my job, sold my apartment, and here I am.” I shrugged. “Only, now I managed to get myself lost here too.”
He smiled at that but there was almost a sadness to it. “Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Me too.” I hadn’t meant for our conversation to get so deep, so I took a deep breath and changed the subject with a smile. “So, Ren Brooks, what is it that you do?”
His smile was more genuine now. “I have the hardware store in town.”
“You do? That’s awesome. I feel like I landed in a Hallmark movie or something. Scenic mountains, small town, snowstorm, rescued by the handsome stranger who also happens to have the local hardware store. I should totally sell them my story.”
Ren laughed, his cheeks flushed a little. “Well, this town is