Page 51 of Snowed Inn

Out pops a tall figure with long blond hair under a Eat the Rich beanie, wearing a puffer jacket covered in enamel pins.

“Millie,” Jesse says, visibly relieved to shift focus. “Hey.”

“Oh my God,” Millie says, eyes lighting up as she takes us both in. “You guys look like you’re straight out of a Netflix Christmas movie. I love this for you.”

“We’re not a thing,” I say automatically.

“Yet,” Millie replies, grinning.

“I’m going to go find the kitty litter,” Jesse mutters, disappearing down an aisle in a seriously fast maneuver.

I grab a tube of rose hip lip balm and a travel-size bottle of hyaluronic acid serum from the impulse-buy display. Because skin care is self-care, even in the country. Millie sidles up next to me and nudges my arm with hers. “Hi. I’m Millie. I think we might have met at the Harvest Festival.”

“I’m Maria,” I say, shaking her hand. “Ellie Lawson’s friend. I think you’re right. You’re the mayor, right?”

Her eyes sparkle. “That’s me. Well, welcome back!” she says sincerely. “This weather sucks, but we’re glad you’re here.”

“Thanks,” I say, surprised by how nice that feels to hear.

“How’s Ellie doing?” Millie continues. “And Aiden? I hear they’re both sick. My girlfriend and I are planning to drop off soup later.”

“They’re pretty bad,” I tell her while thinking about how ridiculously quaint it would be to live in a town where the actual mayor drops off soup for you when you’re sick.

Millie’s face pinches with sympathy. “Oh, sorry to hear that. I hope they like chicken noodle.”

“Excellent choice,” I reply with a smile.

Mrs. Goldman clucks her tongue. “They’re lucky they’ve got all you kids fussin’ over them. That’s the way it should be. Used to be, I’d send medicine right to the house with a bow on it. None of this big-box delivery nonsense. And I still do it, you know! Donny’s my unofficial delivery elf.”

“She’s not kidding,” Millie whispers. “He has a hat and everything.”

Jesse returns with a few items and drops them on the counter. There are no condoms. Not that I am looking for them. I am absolutely, definitely not. “Can we pay before anyone else accuses me of being in a holiday rom-com?” he asks.

Mrs. Goldman rings us up. “Oh, admit it. You two look good together.”

“Nope. No way,” Jesse replies far too quickly. “Maria here is way too good for me.”

My surprised gaze snaps to his and something flickers in Jesse’s expression—just for a second. A crack in the easy grin. His shoulders stiffen, barely, like the words were difficult for him to say. Like maybe he’s not joking.

But then he swallows it down and pastes on a smile that’s just convincing enough to fool someone who doesn’t know better. “You ready?” he says lightly, turning to me.

As we head back out into the snow, I tug my coat tighter and glance at him. “So. Just another quiet trip into town, huh?”

He groans. “I told you. This place is small.”

I nudge him with my elbow. “It’s kinda growing on me.”

He glances at me sidelong, pushing up his cap. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I pause. “You’re still on probation though.”

His grin returns, slow and lazy. “Truce still holding?”

I consider it for a moment. “For now.” I return his grin.

The bell above the door jingles behind us again as we step along the cobblestones, the townspeople’s voices fading behind us, but the warmth of them—of this place—lingering like peppermint on my tongue.

Chapter 18