Mae leaves her nutcrackers scattered on the table where we’ve been unboxing them and directs me to a two-seater table close to the kitchen. She disappears and returns a few minutes later with a tray of steaming mugs of tea and mince tarts. She tells me about some of the town’s many Christmas festivities—“there are a lot, and since you’re not a big fan of Christmas, I feel like I should warn you”—as we drink our tea and nibble on pastries.

  “So the ones with the orange zest in the crust and filling are your favorite?” she confirms once we’ve tried all the different tarts. “I think those are the ones I’ll go with.” Someone behind me catches her attention and her eyes brighten, face breaking into a smile as she waves. Before I can turn to see who it is, Liam is standing beside me.

  “Ladies.” His eyes linger on me for a moment before he turns to Mae, who rises to hug him. I watch as he closes his eyes for a moment as he embraces her in return. Mae places a noisy kiss on his cheek as she releases him and gives him an affectionate pat on the other. The entire exchange is over in seconds, but for some reason it feels like it played out in slow motion. I have a strange, fleeting thought that I wish one or both of them would hug me like that. I’ve enjoyed my time with Mae, but our earlier conversation and the memories it brought up have left me feeling a bit tender.

  “I should get going,” I say, pulling my scarf from the sleeve of my jacket and winding it around my neck.

  “Don’t leave on my account,” Liam says, dark brows pulling together slightly. If possible, he looks even better than he did yesterday. His cheeks are ruddy from the cold, and either the wind has tousled his hair or he’s been running his hands through it.

  “I’m not, I promise. I only intended to pop in for a visit, but I’ve been here for…” I glance at my watch and my eyes go wide. “Wow. Almost two hours.”

  “Sweet Escapes operates in its own time dimension,” Liam says earnestly. “Ask anyone. A cup of coffee turns into lunch turns into dinner. Before you know it, you’ve been here all day.”

  I glance around the café, surprised to see at least half the people who were here when I arrived still occupy the same tables. A few new faces have arrived, and a group of what looks like high school students take up the couches and chairs by the fire.

  “Stay for just one more minute and keep this one company while I get him a coffee, will you?” Mae says to me, patting Liam’s cheek once more. He scrunches his nose, chuckling good-naturedly when Mae grips his chin between her fingers and squeezes. “Be right back.”

  “Have you been Mae’s taste tester today?” Liam asks, sliding into the seat she vacated.

  “I have. Fiona sent her a recipe for mince tarts, and she made a few variations. She had me try each of them and narrow it down to my favorite. I feel like I should go for a long jog when I leave. I don’t suppose there’s a gym in Honeywell?”

  Liam presses his lips together and shakes his head. “No, sorry. Closest one is about thirty minutes away.”

  Now it’s my turn to scrunch up my face. “Damn. I really will be jogging then. Good thing Cherry Lane is quiet.”

  “Quiet, yes, but also hazardous once the snow hits. Side streets like that are always the last to get plowed, and the sidewalks are usually a mess.”

  I groan. I need to stay fit for my job, especially if I keep eating the way I have been since I arrived in Honeywell. And honestly, now that I’ve sampled Mae’s cooking, I don’t want to stop any time soon. “Guess I’ll have to find some other form of physical activity.” I say it in an offhand manner, mostly to myself. When one of Liam’s brows arches, I realize how it must sound.

  “I might be able to help with that.” His quiet words evoke an image of the box of condoms Natalie sent. My mouth works silently, unable to form words. He laughs under his breath and says, “My friend Nathan has a treadmill and an elliptical machine. He never uses them since he works all the time, so I’m sure he’d be happy to let you borrow one during your stay in Honeywell. I could set it up in one of the spare rooms for you.”

  “Right, yes, a treadmill. A treadmill would be good.”

  He leans forward across the small table, putting him close enough that I could easily reach out and touch him if I wanted to. “You sound disappointed, Joss.” His words are slow and soft, and there’s an almost wicked twinkle in his eye. Is he flirting with me? God, I hope so.

  I’m about to respond when someone calls his name. We both look toward the counter where the young woman who works there—Regina, I think Mae said her name was—is holding up a cup of coffee. She tilts her head toward the front of the café and gives a playful eye roll. I follow the motion to find Mae talking to an older man near the front door.

  “Guess she got sidetracked getting me that coffee,” Liam says, standing. “Sorry to cut this short. I’ll be right back, ’kay?”

  I nod and watch as he winds his way between tables and chairs, pausing here and there to speak to people. He seems popular, although that shouldn’t surprise me after what Mae told me about him being known as a fixer. I bet his laid-back personality and charming smile don’t hurt, either.

  He talks to Regina for a minute after taking his coffee from her. I’m so busy admiring the view from behind, I don’t notice the little boy approaching until he all but flings himself at Liam, wrapping his arms around his waist. Liam jolts in surprise and then laughs, circling one arm around the boy and bending to kiss the top of his head. A beautiful young woman with dark shoulder length hair joins them a second later, and Liam leans over to kiss her cheek.

  The mince tarts turn to lead in my stomach. Either Liam wasn’t actually flirting with me or he was and he’s no better than my disgusting, cheating ex. Alan’s betrayal was a hard knock to my confidence and it made me doubt myself in countless ways. I was so sure I saw something different in Liam. Something that put me at ease and piqued my curiosity—and my hormones.

  Not wanting to stick around for introductions, I gather my purse and coat and make a beeline for the door. I’ve almost reached Mae when Liam calls my name. I turn to find him watching with me with raised brows, his arm still around the young boy, who I now see looks just like him. My heart drops, joining the lead ball in my gut.

  In a stroke of genius—or madness—I lift the phone in my hand and pretend I’m getting a call. “Sorry,” I say as I inch toward the door, raising the phone to my ear. “I have to go. I’ll see you around.”

  I spin on my heel, almost knocking into Mae, who’s watching me with an unreadable expression. “Thank you so much for today,” I tell her in a rush. “I’ll pop in for another visit soon, okay?” On impulse, I hug her. I intend for it to be quick, but she holds on, engulfing me in the scents of cinnamon, brown sugar, and vanilla. My throat thickens. I pinch my eyes closed and hold my breath, feeling a sudden case of sensory overload.

  “Why don’t you let me introduce you to—”

  I pull away from her abruptly. “Not right now. Please.”

  She knows who I am. She knows I’ve just been through a messy public divorce. She knows my husband left me for another woman, and she likely knows I’ve come to Honeywell Hollow to hide out and attempt to heal. At least I’m counting on that as she stares into my eyes, making me feel yet again like she’s reading my thoughts.

  “Of course,” she says finally. “Another time. You stop by whenever you want, all right? Here or the house, any time of day or night. I mean it.”

  A stinging in my eyes joins the thickness in my throat. All I can manage is a murmured “thank you” and a squeeze to her hand as I slip past her. Outside, I suck in several lungfuls of cool, damp air. The sky holds a lingering glow from the recently-set sun, faintly illuminating the low-hanging dark clouds that threaten snow.

  I’ve never been one to run away from things, but Natalie was right about me running away to Honeywell. Turns out all the running in the world won’t let me escape thoughts of my past. Or, apparently, my habit of being attracted to the wrong guy.

  Still, as I wrap my coat tightly around myself and hurry to my car, a shaky smile flits over my lips. If Natalie could have seen me dashing out of the café to avoid Liam and his family, she’d have laughed herself silly. And luckily, the thought of that chases away the tears I refuse to let fall.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Those dark, weighty clouds filling the sky when I left the café carried through on their promise of snow. It started shortly after I returned to the rental house and continued into the next day and the next. Every time I look out the window, I feel as if I’m inside a snow globe.

  The nice thing about all this snow is that I’m getting my wish for isolation. Mae has called a few times to check in, but I haven’t had any more unexpected visitors. The only person I’ve seen in the last three days was Nathan, Liam’s friend and business partner, who was sent by Mae to shovel my driveway. When he finished, I opened the door and called to him to see if he’d like to come in for coffee, but he said he had other work to do and he’d take a rain check.

  The snow has finally stopped today, and I’ve spent the last hour telling myself I should go out. The armchair near the fire is quickly forming an ass-shaped groove from my prolonged sitting while alternately reading and watching the fire, the TV, or the snow outside. Laziness has never been something I’ve indulged in—I’ve always been too busy with a regimented schedule—but after three whole days of lounging in pajamas, I now see the appeal.

  Unfortunately, my supplies are dwindling. I’ve eaten almost all of what Mae brought, plus what she left in her welcome offerings. I need to eat a salad. And some fruit. And I should get some apple cider vinegar and green tea to detox my system after all the sugar and carbs I’ve consumed since my arrival in Honeywell.

  With that in mind, I get dressed for the first time in days and head out to my car. I contemplate walking, but Liam wasn’t kidding about the sidewalks out here being the last to get cleared. My boots are more stylish than practical, so even if I could convince myself that trudging through the snow would be a good workout, my feet would be soaked and frozen within minutes.

  When I reach the downtown area, I park in a public lot and make my way up Main Street. The snow must have amped up the business owners’ festive spirit because there are even more Christmas decorations than there were a few days ago. Small pine trees sit outside the door of each business, some decorated, some bare. Garlands and twinkle lights have been wound around the lampposts, and each one is topped with a giant snowflake-shaped light.

  I stop outside Sweet Escapes to admire the tree beside one of the giant nutcrackers. It’s been decorated with a mix of miniature nutcrackers, candy canes, and ornaments shaped like baked goods and coffee cups. Laminated business cards with the Sweet Escapes logo are tucked into several of the branches.

  “Pretty great, huh?”

  I whip around, my foot catching on a bit of slippery pavement that almost sends me flying. Liam reaches out to steady me, both hands gripping my upper arms.

  “You good?” he asks, his brown eyes sweeping over me, lingering on my boots before lifting to settle on my face.

  I let out an embarrassed laugh. “Note to self: get more practical winter boots. Thanks for the save.”

  “Considering I’m the reason your butt almost met the pavement in the first place, the least I could do was stop you from falling.” He releases me and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Haven’t seen you in a few days. Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, I’ve just been—” I stop myself before saying ‘hiding out’. “Hibernating, I guess. Had to come out to forage for food.”

  “Well, you’ve come to the right place,” he says, indicating the café with a tilt of his head. He sees me eyeing the decorated tree and adds, “The city buys trees from Admans’ Farms and provides them to all the businesses downtown every winter.”

  He reaches past me to secure one of the nutcrackers that’s slipped toward the tip of a branch and looks as if it’s about to take a dive. He’s in my personal space for the briefest of moments, but it’s long enough for me to inhale his winter-fresh scent mixed with a hint of citrus shampoo.

  “So each business decorates their own?” I ask, and he nods. “Wow. I can’t imagine something like that in Toronto. The decorations would be stolen within minutes. The trees too, probably.”

  “Sounds about right. Honeywell isn’t perfect and we have our share of bad seeds like any other place, but we’re big on community. People look out for each other.”

  Just like I can’t imagine Christmas trees adorning the streets of downtown Toronto, I also have trouble picturing what it would be like to feel the sense of community Liam is talking about. To know there’s always someone looking out for you. I’m sure it has its drawbacks; if real-life small towns are anything like the fictional ones my characters have resided in, there’s a lot of gossip and people being too involved in others’ business. But it would be nice knowing people genuinely care about you and your well-being.

  “Can I buy you a coffee?” Liam asks.

  I peer inside the café, which looks crowded. Maybe a lot of other townspeople have been ‘hibernating’ the last few days too and are now congregating here to catch up. My mind conjures up an image of the dark-haired woman and little boy who met Liam the other afternoon in the café. He’s likely just trying to be welcoming to the new—albeit temporary—resident of Honeywell Hollow, but I don’t want to be fodder for the town’s gossip mill. I’ve had enough of that in the last few months.

  “Can I get a rain check?” I ask, remembering Nathan’s words to me yesterday. “I’ve got a Mother Hubbard situation going on at the rental, so I need to pick up a few groceries, then answer the emails and phone calls I’ve been avoiding the last few days.” It’s not a lie; my agent has called repeatedly and I’ve sent her to voicemail each time. I also have a couple of administrative-type emails from the network to deal with.

  “Of course.” Despite Liam’s casual tone, I swear he looks disappointed.

  Bad Joss. It’s wrong to be pleased about that.

  “You’ve got my number if you need anything,” he says. “Oh, and Nathan said he’d be happy to loan you one of his exercise machines, so if you decide you want one, let me know and I’ll bring it over and set it up for you.”

  I can’t believe he remembered our conversation and followed through with asking Nathan. It was such a random, in-passing thing, one of those off-handed comments people make all the time and then forget about five seconds later. I had to hound Alan constantly to do the simplest things for me. “I will. Thanks.”

  We part ways and I carry on down the street toward the small grocery store. I turn back in time to see Liam holding the door of Sweet Escapes open for an elderly woman before ducking inside himself. And I experience a fleeting moment of regret over not taking him up on his offer of coffee.

  *****

  Thirty minutes later, with two Patterson’s Market cloth bags full of groceries dangling from my fingertips, I make my way back up Main Street. Mae was right about the limited selection of the local grocery store, although I was able to buy enough food to last a few days at least.

  A clothing boutique catches my eye on the opposite side of the street, so I cross over to check it out. I do a little window shopping, peering in store windows at displays of dresses, stationery, cookware, and more. My eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they also sweep the vicinity every few minutes for any sign of a certain handsome, dark-haired handyman.

  I’m paused outside what appears to be a newspaper office when my phone chimes in my purse. I pull it out and frown at the text from Nat that simply reads: I’m so sorry, Joss.

  My fingers fly over the keypad. Sorry for what?

  Shit, you haven’t heard. The three bouncing dots that indicate she’s typing appear and disappear enough times to have my stomach plummeting and then tying itself into knots. I force my legs to start walking again, keeping my eyes trained on the dots on the screen. Finally my phone chimes again and my eyes fly over Nat’s message: I’d call you but I’m at a table reading. I snuck to the bathroom so I could text you. Maybe you should avoid the news sites for a while. And the entertainment shows…

  Oh god. Something must have happened with Alan. Has he been badmouthing me to the press? Much to his disappointment, we never made a sex tape, and I’ve never been in the habit of taking or sending nudes to anyone, so there can’t be a leak of any sort of compromising material. I wonder if the paparazzi tracked me to Honeywell…

  “Hi.”

  The small voice makes me jolt to a stop. I look around and then down, where my gaze settles on a little boy sitting on a low bench outside a building I don’t recognize. I glance around once more, realizing I walked past the lot where my car is parked.

  When the boy grins brightly at me, I remember my manners and say hi in return. His smile and eyes are strangely familiar. Upon closer inspection, I realize he’s the child I saw with Liam in the café the other day. “You’re Liam’s son, right?”

  He scrunches up his face, tilting his head to the side. “No, Liam is my uncle.”

  His uncle. “Ohh.” I draw out the word, giving myself a moment to process this new tidbit of information and the strange sense of relief that comes with it. “I’m Joss. I’m renting a house on Cherry Lane, and your uncle came by on my first day in town to check something for me.”

  He bobs his head. “I know. I saw you the other day at Sweet Escapes and Uncle Liam told me and my mom who you were after you left. I wouldn’t have said hi otherwise, ’cause I’m not supposed to talk to strangers. I’m Rex.”

  He says all this in a breezy, matter-of-fact tone that makes me want to laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, Rex. And it’s definitely a good thing not to talk to strangers.”

  He bobs his head again and goes back to what he was doing before, which is…counting money? My eyes narrow on the blue and purple bills in his hand. He fans them out, his brows drawing together in concentration and his mouth working silently as he attempts to count. After a moment, he tilts his head up and catches me staring. “I didn’t steal this, just so you know.”