Page 2

Why a grown adult was wearing those things, I didn’t know.
After two trips up and down the steps in her mittens, she had her cocoa and “snackie” in the truck.
Satisfied the car was hooked up correctly, I went to the driver’s side and got in, shutting the heavy door behind me.
Della greeted me with a major side-eye. “You’re a real piece of work, Hayes Madigan. Not liking cocoa...” She shook her head with an air of disappointment.
Why did her annoyance amuse me so? I shouldn’t be feeling anything for her other than that of an acquaintance. Of two people who lived in the same small town. Of the mechanic about to take care of her car. “What’s the deal with your ride anyway?” I asked as I fired up the truck. The diesel engine rumbled to life, making our seats vibrate.
With a heavy sigh, Della said, “The heater’s on, but it’s not blowing any air.”
I stared at her, my hand still on the gear shift. She called a tow truck... because it’s not blowing hot air?
“What?” she asked over a bite of cinnamon roll. She had a fleck of frosting on her pink upper lip that I ignored.
“You can drive a car without a heater!” I protested. “You could have brought it by the shop without taking me away from other projects.”
She shrugged, completely unbothered. “Technically, I could have driven it to your shop... but my insurance pays for a tow to get it fixed and I get a ride in a warm truck with fabulous company.” She winked at me.
I let out another groan and put the truck in gear. “Okay, Moonshine. Let me get you home... and out of my truck,” I added under my breath.
“Heard that,” she sang back, completely unaffected. “But you know, most people don’t utilize all the benefits their car insurance companies offer. In fact, I’m doing the world a service with this tow ride.”
I turned down the street toward her house and sighed. “I’ll take the bait. How are you doing the world a service?” I was actually interested to hear her take. It was sure to be wild.
“Because, you towed me on Main Street. Everyone in the diner’s going to be talking about it. When they ask me what happened, it’ll be easy to start a conversation about the services our company offers to its clients. Boom, more clients, more business for you, too. It’s a win-win.”
I studied her in my periphery. There was a fine line between genius and crazy, and it was sitting right next to me sipping hot chocolate in mittens. “You should get paid to make Super Bowl ads,” I teased. “Marketing genius like that.”
She proudly brushed invisible lint off her shoulder. “Just another day’s work.”
“I was being sarcastic!” I groaned. “Call an Uber next time, Moonshine.” I parked in front of her house, eyeing the pink siding and white trim. It looked like a damn dollhouse.
She took a bite of her cinnamon roll and said, “And deprive myself of a few minutes with you? Not a chance.” She gave me a peeving grin as she opened the door. “Have a great day! Although I don’t know how you will without hot cocoa.”
She got out and walked toward her driveway, and I shook my head as I towed her car away, fighting the small smile tugging at my lips.
2
DELLA
The tow truck’s engine idled until I was safely inside my home. Once the door closed, I heard it rumble as Hayes drove away.
Interesting. For all his rough edges, it was pretty chivalrous to make sure I was inside safely before leaving. Or maybe that was a coincidence. I imagined him getting out his phone and giving Woody’s a one-star review online for serving hot cocoa and giggled to myself.
It was totally something he would do. And probably with that salacious smirk on his face. It was too bad he wasn’t into relationships because damn, did he look good in that dangerous I could rip your heart into a million pieces and have you screaming my name while I did it kind of way.
Shaking my head, I set my drink and snack down on the side table, shucked my gloves and coat, and went to the kitchen to get ready for dinner with my parents tonight.
We ate together and watched The Great British Bake Off every Wednesday. But today, I had news for them, and I knew they wouldn’t like it.
But it was time to tell them what was going on with me—the truth and not the happy façade I’d been putting on for longer than I cared to admit.
With the sense of dread growing in the pit of my stomach, I got out the lasagna ingredients and got to cooking. Experimenting in the kitchen was one of my favorite things to do, and I couldn’t wait to hear what my parents thought of this new recipe, made by rolling the noodles up with ricotta cheese and spinach then covering it with a creamy alfredo sauce mixed with shredded chicken. A little sprinkle of mozzarella on top would make it look pretty coming out of the oven later.
I just wished I could figure out how to make a sourdough loaf to go with it, but so far, all my attempts turned out like frisbees.
A knock sounded on my front door, and before I could respond, it swung open, letting a gust of cold air and my parents inside.