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“Seems fair. And if you don’t make me laugh?”

I shrugged. “You get to live with the knowledge you were right, and you never have to speak to me again.”

Holley stared at me for a moment, her eyelashes fluttering with every movement. “What?”

“I’ll tell you what really happened at prom at ten to midnight,” I replied, holding her gaze. “And if you haven’t laughed by then, I’ll leave you to it.”

Something flashed in her eyes, and she swallowed hard. “All right.”

I held my hand out for her to shake. Unless I was completely deluded, I could swear that she hesitated before she put her hand in mine.

Her soft hand.

I gripped her a little tighter than necessary and leaned closer to her, keeping my gaze locked on hers. “But if you laugh by lunchtime, you owe me dinner.”

Her jaw dropped as I released her and walked up the counter. Johanna hadn’t served up my cheesecake yet, and I told her I was good with the coffee and the bear claw if it was ready.

She handed them over with an observant eye that flicked between me and Holley.

“Here.” I handed her enough money to cover both mine and Holley’s order, then pressed a finger to my lips. “Don’t tell her.”

“I’m sure she’ll never guess,” Johanna drawled, handing me my freshly baked bread.

I’d forgotten about that.

With a grin, I took the bag she’d put that and my bear claw in, grabbed my coffee, and left, not stopping to look at Holley for a second.

But I sure as fuck felt her watching me.

This was going to be a long weekend.CHAPTER EIGHT – HOLLEYrule eight: never leave a man alone. he’ll just mess the story up.“You have got to be kidding me!” I stared at the flat tire on my Jeep. This wasn’t happening, was it? I was halfway up a damn mountain on a Friday afternoon, and my tire was flatter than a pancake.

Did I have a spare? No.

Could I change it even if I had a spare? Also no.

What? I didn’t have a jack.

It was absolutely freezing up here, and my only saving grace was that it wasn’t dark yet. I was also closer to the resort than I was White Peak, so I only had one option.

I was going to have to call Sebastian.

Ugh.

He was going to barrel on down here like a knight in shining armor, wasn’t he?

This was going to be hard to stomach.

I got back into the front of my car and checked my phone. Thankfully I wasn’t so far up the mountain that I was out of signal, although that one little bar that was taunting me didn’t fill me with much hope for a successful call.

Still, I tried.

It rang three times before the call disconnected.

Shit.

I tried again.

And again.

And—

“Hello?” Sebastian said into my ear.

“Oh, my God, thank God!” I breathed. “I have a flat tire halfway up the mountain.”

“And here I was thinking you were happy to hear my voice,” he drawled.

“I’m not joking, and I don’t have a lot of sig—” The call cut out mid-sentence, and I dropped a curse.

Fuck it.

My phone showed no signal bars at all, and I slumped back in the seat. At least I’d managed to get through, and now all I could do was hope that he would come and help me.

I turned the engine on so the heat would work. It was so much colder up here than it was in town, and if I didn’t do it now, there was every chance I’d be an ice block by the time Sebastian found me.

Who got married on a mountain in November?

When I get married, it’s going to be someplace warm. Like anywhere but Montana.

I shivered, pulling my hat down so it covered my ears. It was one of Saylor’s ideas for the bookstore merchandise we’d recently started stocking—a black bobble hat with ‘book nerd’ embroidered on the front. It’d been one of our best sellers, surprisingly, and I was annoyed that I liked it so much.

It was so warm.

I rubbed my hands together, hoping the friction from my gloves would warm my fingers. It really was annoyingly cold up here, the kind of cold I wasn’t expecting in town for another couple of weeks.

I was not prepared for this.

And by this, I meant the entire weekend. Not the wedding, not Sebastian, not our talk, not the weather—none of it.

My radio had no signal either so I was sitting in silence. Only the running of the engine and low hum of the heater as it spat warm air kept me company as I eyed the weather system that I was pretty sure was moving this way.

If I got fucking snowed in here, I was going to murder Sebastian. I was going to take one of those baseballs he loved so much, ram it down his throat, then beat him with a baseball bat.


Tags: Emma Hart The Bookworm's Guide Romance