Love Fast

The cab of the truck is thick with worry. Phone lines are down, so I haven’t been able to speak to anyone at the Club. I don’t know what I’m going to find when I get there. In the end, the tornadoes burned themselves out before they got to Star Falls, but the storm still brought high winds and driving rain. I’m hoping for the best, but given everything that’s on the line, and how tight our deadlines are, I might be facing serious changes to our opening strategy. It would cost me millions.

Rosey’s nibbling her bottom lip. Athena’s missing. As soon as we opened the doors of the shelter, the cat bolted like she’d been freed from jail. I slide my hand onto Rosey’s thigh, wanting to reassure her. “I bet she finds her way back by the time we’re home. There’s not as much damage as there would have been if a tornado struck. She’ll be okay.”

I glance over at Rosey and wonder what happens now. Last night felt so seismic between us, like things have shifted completed. But maybe that’s not how Rosey sees it. All the reasons why neither one of us wanted to get involved in the first place still exist. The storm didn’t take them with it as it passed through Star Falls. Does that mean there’s no way forward, or did last night make all the concerns lighter somehow—like they’re no longer bold and underlined?

I still need to focus on the Colorado Club. I still don’t want the town gossiping about me and the runaway bride.

At the same time, I don’t want to give up Rosey.

Does she feel the same?

I don’t have an answer to any of it, and I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, given the enormity of the issues I might be facing when we arrive up the mountain.

“Cats don’t like the rain,” Rosey says. “Where could she have gone?”noveldrama

“She’s probably found herself a tree to climb up,” I reassure her. I feel like an idiot for obsessing over what happens next for me and Rosey when that’s the last thing on her mind. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Maybe,” she says.

I’d offer to buy her a new cat if I thought that would help. It’s probably insensitive. I’m just not a cat person.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “You’ve got more important things to worry about.”

“I’ll figure out the extent of the problems at the Club soon enough. And we’ll find Athena. I promise. Anything else… we can work out,” I say obtusely, giving her room to say something about what happened between us last night and what might happen in the future.

She meets my gaze, nods, and gives me a small smile.

We can figure this out, I think, hoping she hears me somehow.

The road is passable so far, but the wind has taken its toll. Trees are down either side of the road.

“What’s that?” Rosey asks, gripping my arm.

Ahead there’s something blocking the road. I slow the truck to a stop. “Looks like an old oil drum.” I could drive around it, but I don’t want another vehicle to come along this road and run into it if they’re not paying attention. I put the car in park and grab my gloves from the door pocket.

I don’t know where the hell the oil drum has come from. I give it a push. It’s heavy—definitely not empty. I slide on my gloves and give it another push. It refuses to roll. I circle the drum, trying to see what’s stopping it. There are a couple of dents in it, but nothing that should stop it rolling. I push it again and it moves a few inches, then stops. It must just be the way whatever’s inside is moving inside the barrel. It’s resistant. Eventually, I get a rhythm going, one hand pushing after another. It creates momentum and I manage to push it off the side of the road.

I jog back to the truck, take off my gloves and slide into the driver’s seat. I catch Rosey’s eye as I slam my door shut.

I narrow my eyes, and she blushes. “What?” I ask her.

She shrugs. “You’re hot. That’s all.”

I chuckle. “You like watching me doing manual labor, do you?”

“Sue me,” she says, lifting her chin defiantly.

“There are plenty of other things I’d prefer to do to you,” I say, because I can’t not. I put the truck into drive.

“Maybe later,” she says and keeps her eyes on the road.

My heart inches in my chest at her words. I’m half tempted to pull over again and bend her over the hood of this truck. I shake my head and try to get my head back where it needs to be. I can’t think about any of that right now. I just want to get to the Club and work out the damage.

We pull into the drive of the Club and everything looks fine. It’s a good start, but no more than I would have expected. This area around the main building was fully finished.

As we get out of the cab, Hart comes out, followed by Kathleen.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” Hart says, his gaze flitting between me and Rosey.

“Phone lines are still down,” I say. “How are things here? Everyone safe?” I watch Rosey as she disappears into the main building. I don’t get to say “see you later” or “thanks for the best night of my life.” I need to focus on the Club.

“Yeah, everyone was fine in the main building,” Hart says. “We barely heard the rain and wind. Head of construction is doing a full walk-through now, but we think the peripheral buildings have fared a lot better than expected. The chalets are all fine, except one where the shutters weren’t installed.”

I raise my eyebrows. I don’t need to ask why a shutter wasn’t finished. Kathleen can see my question in my expression.

“I know, I know,” Kathleen says. “But there are always going to be mistakes made in these circumstances. That’s the nature of human beings. One chalet isn’t bad. The only other real damage is a leak from the roof of the second block of staff accommodations. The temporary fix for the roof couldn’t withstand the amount of rain.”

At that moment, Ralph, our construction foreman, rounds the corner followed by a couple of other men I recognize from his team.

“Ralph. How are things?”

“Not bad. The main thing is we’ve had no significant mudslide and that’s because we kept as much of the existing trees and vegetation as possible. Then we’ve got some damage to one chalet and the roof of the second staff housing block.”

“Kathleen said as much. How long will it set us back?” I ask.

“The roof is a problem. That’ll cost us at least a week.”

“I want you to prioritize that over the chalet.” Repairing staff housing first means one of the marketing visits will have to be pushed back. “We can’t run this place if we don’t have the staff.”

“We’re on it,” he says.

My cell starts to ring. “Looks like we have service back.” It’s Worth, one of my closest friends. “I’ll catch you later, Hart.”

“How are you?” Worth asks as I accept the call.

“Fine. Spent most of the night in a tornado shelter, but it didn’t hit in the end.”

“I still don’t believe you can get tornados in the mountains,” Jack says. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re on speaker, in case you hadn’t guessed,” Worth says. “We just finished a run and thought we’d check in.”

A pang of loneliness catches me off guard. After last night, it would be good to go to Worth’s for a beer tonight. It feels like there’s been so much pressure leading up to last night, that all my adrenaline is seeping away and I’m not sure what’s going to take its place. “I miss you guys,” I say. It’s not something I’d normally admit—to myself, let alone them.

“We miss you too,” he replies.

“I don’t miss him,” Jack says. “If he prefers Colorado to New York, he’s not the sort of friend I want. He can go live out his cowboy fantasy without me involved in any of it.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not in anyone’s cowboy fantasy,” I say with a grin.

Jack chuckles. “You never know, we might come out and visit sometime. What’s there to do out there? Lasso some cows? Catch some fish?” Jack was born and raised in New York City. He’s more likely to go to St. Tropez than Colorado. There’s no way I’ll be able to get him to come out and visit. He doesn’t even go to Aspen—he prefers Chamonix. But I love him anyway.

“When this place is finished, I’ll figure out a way to get you all here. Fair warning, if you try and lasso cows, you’re going to get arrested, Jack. And just so you manage your expectations, there’s not a spare room in the entire town at the moment.”

“It will be worth the wait,” Worth says. “We’re proud of you.”

“I’m not proud of you,” Jack says. “I think you need to get your ass back to the city and stop fucking around.”

“Well, this has been fun,” I say. “But I have my ass to save right here in Colorado. Speak to you soon, guys. Send my love to Sophia, Worth.”

I hang up the call, but I can’t wipe the grin from my face. No, I can’t go to Worth’s tonight and ask my friends about the right move after a night like the one Rosey and I shared. Still, it’s good to know they’re on the end of the phone if I need them. It’s good to know they’re there.

I’ll have to figure the Rosey stuff out on my own. Or maybe—and this is a big maybe—I’ll get to do it with Rosey.