“Oh my God. That’s terrible.” Megan wanted to rip her hand away, to make the disgusting story stop, but she liked the way Josh’s fingers felt as they traced over the top of her hand.

  “Then, once it’s nice and flat they bring it inside and rinse it off. Not too thoroughly though, the dirt texture is part of the delicacy. It’s lightly breaded and then tossed in the fryer.” Josh picked up her hand and rubbed it between both of his so that it got warm with friction.

  Muriel arrived at their table and Megan held her breath as Muriel set down the plate. When she saw what was on it, she ripped her hands from Josh’s and playfully slapped the back of his hand. “It’s a donut, you jerk.”

  Josh’s laugh was deep and hearty, “Did you really think you were getting a dirty old run over beaver tail?”

  “Yes, I did,” Megan laughed, trying to keep a straight face, “And I wasn’t looking forward to it. At all.”

  “Well, you’ve gotta try this.”

  Megan leaned in to smell the pastry. “Ah, cinnamon, that’s what I smelled when we walked in here.”

  “The G Spot is known for their beaver tails.”

  Megan took her knife and fork and cut off a side of the warm pastry. She took a bite and then groaned in pleasure as the warmth of the sugar and dough melted on her tongue. “The gas station is called the G Spot?”

  “Well, that’s what we locals call it. The Sugar Peaks crowd don’t have any creativity and just called it the General Store.”

  “And the specialty at the G Spot is the Beaver Tail.”

  “You got it,” Josh grinned, and ripped at the pastry with his fingers and took a bite. “It’s easier just to dive right in.” Josh looked at her wryly and ripped off another piece, this time offering it up to Megan. She didn’t know whether he expected her to lean forward and let him feed her, so she played it safe and plucked the dough from his fingers with hers. She took another bite. “I’m going to have to get the recipe for this.”

  Josh sat back on the bench seat. “So, there are two reasons I brought you here. We are all in this together, and by ‘we’, I mean, everyone in Chance Rapids, so we don’t try to compete with each other.”

  “What are you saying, Josh?” Megan peeled the last bite off the plate and ripped it in two, offering half to Josh.

  “I’m saying, the coffee here is shit. People don’t come here for the coffee. They come here for the fish and chips and the beaver tails. So, don’t sell fish and chips and beaver tails at your café.”

  “I don’t think that anyone can tell me what I can and can’t sell at the café.”

  “You’re right about that. But, if you want to make it in the shoulder seasons, when the tourists aren’t here, you’re going to have to appease the locals. Not one person in this town is going to go into your bake shop if you start selling Muriel’s beaver tails.”

  Megan leaned back in her chair and choked back another sip of the turpentine coffee. “So basically, the whole town is under a non-disclosure, non-compete clause, all sealed with a handshake.”

  “You’re starting to get the picture.”

  “Alright, Mr. Chance Rapids – where to next?” Megan knocked back the last of her coffee and shuddered.

  Josh slid out of the booth and held his hand out for her. “I thought we would do something fun.”

  Megan reluctantly took his hand and let him help her out of the tight booth. “I have the feeling that you and I have different definitions of the word ‘fun,’ Josh.”

  “Well, let’s continue our tour of downtown first then. Coffee to go?” he whispered into her ear, and placed his hand on her back.

  Megan giggled, “Hell no,” she whispered under her breath.

  The sun was dipping down over the jagged horizon as they strolled the downtown strip. Quarter sized snowflakes were falling softly from the sky and when the streetlamps clicked on, they seemed to dance in their light. Megan felt like she was walking in a living, breathing snow globe.

  Every person they passed smiled and said hi to Josh.

  “Do you know everyone here?” she asked.

  “Pretty much, until the seasonal crowd rolls in. They look at you like you’ve got two heads if you say hello to them on the street.”

  Megan felt the same way the first time it had happened to her in Chance Rapids. An old man had tipped his hat at her and said good morning as she was walking into the job site. Now, all the hellos and Merry Christmas greetings were giving her the warm and fuzzies.

  They passed a streetlamp with a ladder leaning against it and as they walked by, Freddie hopped off and landed beside them with a thud. “You found him.”

  “I did. He’s just giving me a tour of the town,” Megan smiled.

  “Hard to believe that you’ve had that massive house here for years and you’re just getting around to the town tour now.”

  “I guess I just haven’t spent much time here, that’s all.” Megan breathed out, her breath a cloud. She technically wasn’t lying; she hadn’t spent any time at Charlotte’s house at all. ‘How am I going to get out of this lie before it gets away on me?’ she wondered.

  “No kidding. I mean, nobody here has even seen you before. There were rumors about the owner of 17 Sugar Peaks Way and I mean, I think that the whole town is a little disappointed that you aren’t actually George Clooney, or a mob boss, or a—”

  “She gets the point, Freddie,” Josh interrupted. “There have been plenty of rumors flying around about you, but now that you’re here and actively involved in the town you can set them all straight.”

  Megan cleared her throat. She didn’t know what to say that wasn’t going to be an all out lie. “Sure can,” her voice wavered. She was falling for Josh, but what was he going to say when he found out that she wasn’t a rich real estate developer? Her heart jumped into her throat as the question came up. Is that why he’s spending so much time with me? The thought hadn’t crossed her mind, but of course. The small-town boys thought that she was a rich mover and shaker from the city.

  “Speaking of celebrities, is your brother coming to town for Christmas?” Josh said to Freddie.

  “He’ll be here, with his new supermodel girlfriend.”

  “Fun,” Josh said. “Will this one go outside when it’s snowing?”

  “Who knows?” Freddie replied and collapsed the extension ladder. He tossed the set of snips he’d been holding in his hand into the toolbox on the ground. “I don’t even bother learning their names anymore, he gets bored with them so fast now.”

  “Well, I’m sure your mom will be happy to have both of her boys home.”

  “Oh, she’s already planned a dinner party to show him off. You two should come.”

  Megan looked at Josh and he looked back at her, “Well, I guess that depends on Megan. Are you interested in meeting Logan Brush?”

  “Logan who?” Megan had never heard of him.

  “That’s a no then, Freddie. Thanks for the invite though.”

  “Don’t worry. You can still go to the public skate with Logan, although it will be packed. I’m sure my mom will send you some leftovers.” Freddie picked up his toolbox. “See you guys tomorrow.”

  “Bye, Freddie,” both Megan and Josh chimed in unison and watched him trudge off down the sidewalk.

  “Who is Logan Brush?” Megan asked as she admired a poinsettia wreath in the frosted window of the florist shop.

  “He’s a pro hockey player; a little of a hometown hero here. His team won the Cup a few years ago and he brought it here in the summer. All the hockey kids in town lost their minds. Logan Brush is bigger than any movie star here.

  Josh stopped and looked at the wreath in the window. “Is that a poinsettia?”

  “It is. It sure is pretty,” Megan said.

  “Sure is,” Josh replied, but Megan noticed that he wasn’t looking at the florist shop at all.

  “I could use a drink,” Megan said quickly.

  “Me too. I think it’s time for you to visit the Last Chance.”

  “Is it the only place to get a drink in town?”

  “It’s the only place for locals,” Josh smiled and pulled open the medieval style door.

  “What about Timber? Are we just going to leave him tied up outside here? Won’t he get cold?”

  “First of all, Timber is a husky. He loves the winter and snow, but secondly, he can come in with us.”

  “What, into the bar?”

  “Yeah,” Josh said. “You’re going in, and we’re not heating the outdoors here…” He was holding the door to the bar wide open.

  Megan peered into the darkness, took a deep breath, and stepped into the bar. All of the tables were full of men either wearing work clothes or snowmobile suits, their hair messy from wearing hats or helmets all day long. The bar smelled like stale beer and body odor.

  “Is it always this packed at four PM?” she asked.

  “Yep,” Josh said, and sidled up to the bar. He pulled out a bar stool for Meg and took a seat beside her. “The guys are just getting off work, or in from a day on the sleds. The busiest time of the day, actually.”

  “Hi, Josh.” The bartender leaned against the bar. “What can I get you?”

  “What’s the small batch of the day?” he asked.

  “It’s an IPA – Bonecrusher they’re calling it.”

  “I’ll take one of those.”

  “And for the lady?” the young bartender smiled at Megan. Was every young man in this town impossibly good looking? He was cute in a disheveled mountain man kind of way. She squinted past the jar of pickled eggs, trying to make out the writing on the blackboard. She had been avoiding getting her eyes examined, and either the writing was impossibly blurry, or she needed reading glasses. When she couldn’t make out the menu she just muttered, “I’ll take what he’s having.”

  “That’ll put some hair on your chest,” the bartender laughed. “You’ve got a keeper there Josh.”

  “She’s my boss,” he said a little too quickly.

  “I wish my boss looked like that,” the young man muttered under his breath. He tossed a couple of coasters onto the worn bar and plunked down two of the most orange-looking beers Megan had ever seen.

  “Cheers,” Josh raised his glass. “To Megan—Megan, what’s your last name?” he asked, holding his beer stein in mid-air.

  “Snodg—” Megan started but then corrected herself, “it’s Brittle. Megan Brittle.”

  “To Megan Brittle’s inaugural tour of Chance Rapids.”

  “To my tour guide,” Megan replied, clinking her glass against Josh’s. She took a sip and the hoppiness of the beer caught her off guard. “Wow,” she said through a sputter.

  “It’s pretty strong. Do you want something different?” Josh asked.

  “No, it’s just something I’ve never tried before. I’d like to give it a chance,” Megan said, taking another sip. This time noticing subtle floral hints. “It’s actually pretty good.”

  “They have all the domestic beers you could want here, but Charlie,” Josh nodded to the bartender, “has started his own craft beer brewery. There’s a new batch every week.”

  “Want to know the secret?” Charlie asked as he polished beer glasses.

  “I do. But then would you have to kill me?” Megan replied.

  Charlie chuckled. “It’s the water. Chance Rapids has the best water in the state. You couldn’t make a beer this good anywhere else.”

  The startling contrast of the trendy craft beer being served in the diviest bar Megan had ever seen was shocking. She looked around the room and noticed a brass pole in the back. “Is this a strip club?”

  “Only on Tuesdays,” Josh laughed.

  Megan made a mental note to talk to Charlotte about getting Charlie’s small batch beer into the café, - her mind began to whirr a mile a minute- or talk to her about opening a craft beer bar. This beer was too good to be served alongside pickled eggs, dog fur, and stripper poles.

  “So, Megan Brittle…”

  “Josh…What’s your last name?” She interrupted.

  “Johnson. I was J.J. growing up.”

  “It suits you, J.J.” Megan took another sip of her beer and could feel the alcohol going straight to her head.

  “Why did you decide to finally invest some money into Chance Rapids?”

  Had she gone too far with the façade? Could she tell him now and get away with the tale Charlotte had woven? She decided to tell the truth, as best as she could.

  “My marriage fell apart. I needed something to get my mind off the fact that my life had just crumbled around me.” Truth.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Josh said. “It sounds like it was hard on you.”

  “It was hard. I mean, it’s all that I had known for fifteen years.”

  “Zeesh, you got married young,” Josh replied.

  “Not really, I was twenty-eight.”

  Megan could see Josh running the numbers. “So, you’re what, forty-three then?”

  “Your math skills are stellar Mr. Johnson.” Megan’s heart sank.

  Josh took a sip of his beer, his eyes gazing at Megan over the top of the glass. Megan also took a sip, unsure of what to say next, her snarky comment hanging heavily between them.

  “I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, but I didn’t think that you were in your forties,” Josh said and reached his hand to cup her cheek. Megan felt her face flush red with his touch, “I was guessing thirty-five – and you’ve got a little foam on your lip there.” He brushed the foam off her lips with his thumb before bringing it to his own to suck it off.

  It was such a practical and fleeting touch that somehow turned extremely sensual. Megan felt a whoosh as adrenaline surged through her body and landed like a fiery ball in her lower abdomen. She wanted to feel Josh’s hand on her body again.

  “That didn’t come out the wrong way, and thank you, I think.” Megan took another sip of her beer, willing the conversation to take a turn away from their nine-year age gap.

  “People in town are excited about your café. It looks like you’re doing everything right so far, hiring local tradespeople was a smart move. Do you still think you’re going to have the doors open by the fifteenth?”

  “It will be tight.” Megan leaned back on her bar stool. “If the drywallers get things done on time we should be able to get the painters in and the kitchen installed. Should I be worried about the furniture maker?”

  “He always gets things done. But it never hurts to buy him another beer.”

  “Bartender,” Megan raised her hand, “two more.”

  Charlie poured two more pints and set them in front of Megan and Josh.

  “It’s a work day tomorrow,” Josh smiled and finished off his first beer before taking a sip of his next.

  “Well, let’s call this a business meeting then.”

  Josh tipped an invisible hat at Megan. “Roger that, boss.”

  They sat sipping their hoppy beers and discussing the job. Megan had set up interviews for the staff for the following day and Josh seemed to know all the people who had applied. “I know that you will make the right decision for the café, but if you need the insider’s scoop on any of these people, you come to me. There are quite a few weirdos in this town, and they’re good at hiding it.”

  “Is one of them sitting with me right now?” Megan smiled wryly.

  “Maybe, but a few of them just walked in.”

  Megan heard a rowdy group of men burst into the bar. They were wearing matching search and rescue jackets and hats, all but one – Freddie.

  “What’s his story?” Megan asked.

  “Who, Fred?” Josh waved at the group of men and a few of them came over and clapped him on the back and said hi on their way to the big table in the center of the bar. “He’s a born and raised Rapidian. Went to high school here. Kind of grew up in his older brother’s shadow though. Freddie went into ski racing and Logan focused on hockey. Freddie was the best skier on the mountain and an Olympic hopeful, but he couldn’t stop crashing and tearing his ACL. He either won the race or crashed out.”

  “That’s actually kind of sad.” Megan watched the young man and for the first time noticed his limp as he made his way to sit with the group of men.

  Josh laughed. “Don’t you start feeling sorry for Freddie, that guy is doing just fine. He loves his job and doesn’t have any problems with the ladies. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised that he hasn’t hit on you yet.”

  “Maybe I’m not his type.”

  “Oh, trust me. He doesn’t have a type,” Josh laughed.

  “Hey,” Megan said and playfully punched Josh in the arm.

  “Shit. That’s not what I meant,” Josh replied and then smiled wryly. “I may have told him to stay away from the boss.”

  Megan looked at Josh, her mind racing. “Well, thank you. I appreciate that,” she said. However, what she really wanted to know is whether Josh told Freddie to back off because she was the boss, or because he wanted her for himself?

  Freddie sauntered over to the bar and ordered a pitcher of Budweiser and leaned into Josh, “Business meeting?”

  “You know it,” Josh laughed. “Did you miss Search and Rescue Practice?”

  “Well, you know, town emergency, the Christmas Carols were shorting out. That took priority over practicing ropes skills.”

  “Did they take out the chopper?” Josh asked.

  “Too much weather,” Freddie poured beer into his glass and took a sip. “Didn’t miss much. The guys are still wondering when you’re going to come back.”

  Josh looked over at the group of men and Megan thought that she saw a look of longing in his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve got the time, you know, with this new project. The boss is a real ball-buster.”