Page 3

Royal

Disoriented, he placed his phone back on the nightstand and stared at it, half expecting it to ping with the start of a zoom call. It’d been so silent he thought maybe it was broken.

Royal threw back the heavy quilt, groaning and stretching muscles that hadn’t been stretched in years.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and touched one hand to the back of his head where the dull ache had begun in a mind unfamiliar with rest.

He walked barefoot to the window and pulled back the lace curtain enough to take a peek. Everything was calm and peaceful. No bumper-to-bumper gridlock, nor cursing cab drivers, nothing but houses with smoke rising from their chimneys scattered over the hills in the distance.

“What do I do now?”

Do I…do I just go downstairs?

Without a staff member telling him what to do next, Royal was forced to face a morning with no agenda.

He dressed in a crème button-down shirt, black slacks, and his leather boots. He wrapped his ivory, cashmere scarf around his neck and pulled his Dolce & Gabbana knee-length trench from his garment bag.

Royal’s room didn’t have an electronic scan pad, so he simply closed the door behind him. It felt strange leaving his possessions unsecure, but he had a feeling the bed and breakfast didn’t have a big theft problem.

He walked down the narrow hallway, decorated with framed black and white photographs of the town’s history. Images of smiling faces, children playing, men and women building and working the land seemed like scenes from a movie.

Royal was halfway down the stairs when the sound of a voice made him stop mid-stride.

Deep, gravelly and melancholy—the kind of deep voice that reached into the marrow of his bones. But it wasn’t just the tone, there was a presence behind it, hardened and solid.

The words spoken were simple, sounding like a basic transaction, a discussion about an order.

It was as if the owner of that voice wasn’t even trying to be heard and the sheer tone of it made Royal want to get closer and listen.

So he did just that.

Unable to resist another second, he took a few more steps and peered around the railing into the lobby.

The person standing at the check-in desk was a mountain of a man. Every inch of him seemed carved and sculpted. His thick black hair was streaked with silver framing a weathered face, with a heavy salt and pepper colored beard. His rugged handsomeness indicated he wasn’t a stranger to outdoor work.

Royal’s heart flipped, all nervous and jittery.

He’d never been one to gape at men, but this, him…he was different. And it wasn’t only the man’s size, though he was huge. It wasn’t so much his look—but fuck!

It was his stillness.

Royal flexed his fingers around the railing, struggling to get his feet moving.

He didn’t recognize the woman at the desk because most of her body was hidden behind it. She was very short, young, with a jet-black sharp bob haircut, which was a startling contrast to her scarlet-red lipstick.

She spoke to the man with a kind of familiarity, smiling at whatever he was describing.

The man ducked his head and scribbled something on a slip of paper and slid it over to her.

“I can have it by the end of the month.”

“Thanks Stone. You know I don’t mind waiting on your work.”

Stone. That can’t be—

Royal had been staring so hard he didn’t realize the girl’s attention had shifted to him.

“Oh hi!” she greeted cheerfully. “There you are. I was wondering if you were gonna come down. You’re Royal, right?”

Royal almost stumbled over the last five steps at being caught. He hurried and straightened his spine and descended the stairs.

Their gazes held as the girl behind the counter continued talking.

“I’m Jojo. Mrs. Pearl’s niece, she told me to take particularly good care of you, and that you are our special guest.”

Royal swallowed hard. “Oh, I uh…that’s not necessary.”

“Well we all trust my auntie’s judgment of character in this town, and she was more than adamant with her instructions.”

Royal had to avert his gaze from Stone’s penetrating glare. It was too strong, too deep, as if he was seeing clear through him.

“Stone, this is Royal.” She gestured at him, palm up as though she was displaying a prize on a game show. “Royal is from…”

“New York, uh Manhattan,” he finished for her.

“Yes! Manhattan. Wow, I plan to go there as soon as I finish college.” She bounced up and down. “Oh my gosh, all the lights, the skyscrapers, the Statue of Liberty, ahhh,” she squealed, “the Empire State building! I’m an architect major. I’m in my junior year at St. Josephs. I help my auntie here at the Pines when I’m on holiday break. I just love winter!”

She had so much energy it made him nauseous.

“Royal, this is Stone, our local craftsman. If you’re here a while, you’ll see his signature Stone Wood Carvings on just about every standing structure in town.”

“Royal,” Stone dragged his name out as if he was trying out the flavor of it on his tongue.

Fuck that voice . Royal hoped his name tasted good.

He flinched when Stone jutted his big hand out in front of him. It took him a moment but Royal slid his hand inside that massive palm and allowed it to be engulfed. The feel of hardened callouses against his soft skin made his belly warm.

“Hello,” he responded in a daze. He felt so damn out of place, like a new student being introduced to the class. “A business name that’s a strategic oxymoron is far more marketable than one without. And it has a seventy-two percent clickability advantage over its listed competition.”

Stone’s raised brow made him clamp his mouth shut.

What the fuck am I saying?

They stared at him with perplexed expressions. It wasn’t one of judgment, but one of curiosity like when down-to-earth folks encountered stuffy know-it-alls.

“If you say so,” Stone ground out.

Jojo cackled so loud it made the sting of his embarrassment that much worse.

“You’re funny, Mr. Manhattan. What do you do by the way? Let me guess. You’re a marketing executive. Or an agent…no a lawyer. Or a—”

Royal put his hand up. It annoyed him when a person asked a question and answered it all in one sentence. But Jojo was cute and her cheerfulness was mildly endearing.

“I work… worked in finance.”

Stone stood rigid as a statue, except for those keen eyes roaming over Royal’s face then down his body.

Shit, he remembered he was dressed as if he were on his way to a meeting at a country club.

“Jojo, can you maybe direct me to a place where I can buy some clothes a little more suitable for the weather?”

Stone glanced down at his shiny boots.

“Something warmer and more durable for the snow.”

Her face lit up. “Of course. There’s several shops on Main, but I’d start at Jessie’s first. It’s called Downeast Duds. He has the best stuff for men. Coats, boots, hats, you name it.”

“Perfect.” Royal gave a curt nod. “Thank you.”

He was almost to the door when Jojo hollered out.

“Oh Royal! Our Mayor’s been talking about hiring a city manager with a background in finance to oversee the tourist budgets. Evergreen Cove winter festival is our biggest event and she needs so much help, poor thing. You should stop by her office if you’re gonna be here a while and needing employment.”

Royal ducked his head as the familiar knocking started at the base of his neck. “I’m retired…but thanks.”

He met Stone’s gaze one last time, the connection jolting him in a way that sent ripples down his spine. “It was nice meeting you, Stone.”