“It’s about fifteen miles, give or take. Friendship is a pretty small town, but you can refill your car and stop and have some dinner. Like its name suggests, there are a lot of friendly people there. It’s sort of my makeshift home for now,” he said with a chuckle. “House or not.”
Regina assumed that meant he didn’t have a house, and a pang of sympathy went through her. Here she was feeling sorry for herself because she’d wasted money on an extravagant wedding that had fallen through, and this guy didn’t have a place to live. “I’ll gladly take you there.”
He grabbed a worn bag and eyed the backseat, probably thinking she’d rather have him there. She wasn’t sure what proper etiquette in this situation was, possibly because there wasn’t any.
“Feel free to sit up front,” she said. “I don’t bite. I might cry, though, so I hope that doesn’t scare you.”
> “I think I can handle a few tears.” He settled into the passenger seat, and she cranked up the heater as he reached out to warm his hands. He smelled like it’d been a while since his last bath. “Anything I can do to help?”
She shrugged. “I could use a new groom,” she said with a mostly sarcastic laugh. Apparently it wasn’t quite funny yet. “Or maybe what I need is the desire to never have one.” All her life she’d pictured her future self with a loving husband and a couple of children, an idyllic little family who often laughed together.
“You’ll find somebody. Somebody who deserves you and will love you for you.” The confidence in his voice assured her, despite the fact that he had no way of knowing something like that.
“Thank you.” She extended her hand. “I’m Regina, by the way.”
He shook her hand, one firm shake that convinced her he was of good, solid character. Sometimes you could just tell. “Gabe.”
After carefully checking over her shoulder for oncoming traffic, she pulled onto the freeway. Or was it a highway? Come to think of it, there hadn’t been another car in forever, and the road looked too dinky to be an interstate.
Well, that’s mildly disconcerting. Then again, on a scale of one to sucky, it couldn’t compare to the rest of her day. But if she thought about that too much, she’d start crying again, so she made small talk with Gabe.
He wasn’t a man of many words, answering most of her questions with a simple yes or no, but it helped pass the time. Then he pointed out the turnoff into Friendship, its big happy sign greeting them as they officially entered town. Flurries danced through the air, falling to the window in pretty white puffs, and she glanced at the time.
She’d been driving for almost seven hours without so much as one bathroom stop, and now that food had been mentioned, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. On top of the exercising, she’d been on a low-sugar diet, one that basically meant that if a food brought you joy, it was out. She’d kept motivated on the treadmill by thoughts of her gorgeous, tiered wedding cake with the spongy chocolate goodness waiting under the fluffy white frosting. She’d told herself it’d be that much better after a month of no sweets, and since she hadn’t had so much as a taste, she was planning on ordering dinner and dessert. Maybe even two desserts.
Considering the looming storm, she should probably also think about settling somewhere for the night. Not only did she hate driving in the snow, she wasn’t used to it and didn’t have the vehicle or the tires for it.
Regina turned down Main Street, heading toward the lights of the town, which appeared to be even tinier than she’d expected. “Does this place have a hotel?”
“The Snowflake Inn’s on the other side of town and is usually pretty booked,” Gabe said, “but there’s a nice B and B nearby called the Cozy Cottage, and I’m sure they have an open room or two.”
All she needed was a bed. “Sounds perfect.” Tomorrow she’d make a different plan, a new sensation for someone who lived and died by them. “If you need a room, I could—”
“Thank you, Regina, but you’ve done enough for me. In fact, if you’ll just drop me off up here, that’d be great.”
Gabe’s steady presence had been comforting, and it was odd how sad she was they had to part ways already. She could tell a good soul when she met one, and in spite of her misguided choice of groom, she still believed her gut instincts were good.
Once she’d stopped the car, Gabe gathered his stuff and flashed her a warm smile. “You should stop by Grumpy’s Bar and Grill a few blocks down. The food’s amazing, and trust me, you won’t be sorry.”
“Grumpy’s in Friendship?”
“Yeah, the owner has quite the sense of humor. But don’t let that scare you. Best food in town.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t tell Fern I said that.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Regina said with a laugh. Especially since she didn’t know Fern and doubted she’d come across her in her short stay here. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food, though, making its vote known. Striding inside a restaurant in a wedding dress was a special kind of crazy, but it was like her brain couldn’t even entertain the thought of stopping and changing first. Not that she had anything besides clothes meant for the tropics anyway. “Nice meeting you, and good luck with everything. And happy holidays.”
Was that stupid? His holidays might not be happy, and she wanted to make them better, even if she didn’t know how.
“Happy holidays,” he said, and then he closed the door and she was alone again. Just her and her wedding dress and her decked-out car that looked like Cupid threw up on it.
It’d been a long day, and Emmett wanted to kick back and relax with a late dinner at Grumpy’s. As sheriff of Friendship, he was never truly off work, but at least his job in this sleepy town mostly involved giving gentle reminders to abide by the rules and arbitrating minor disputes.
Of course, a few citizens remained sore at him when he didn’t automatically pick their side. More than once he’d been told, “But you’ve known me for decades/most of my life/since high school!” Today was one of those days, and Fern Simpson didn’t seem to care he’d known the other party for equally as long—both citizens had a decade or two on him, so he’d known them pretty much since birth.
As if having the town’s B&B owner mad at him wasn’t enough, Fern’s daughter had jumped in to defend her mom’s side of the debate, so now he had two females irritated with him. Fern had also been nice enough to remark that he was always in a sour mood these days. He couldn’t exactly deny it, though he also couldn’t pinpoint why.
As he entered Grumpy’s, he heard a blend of voices yelling “cheers,” and within seconds, he sensed the vibe was different somehow.
And that was before he noticed the woman in the wedding dress seated among the regulars. All he could make out from here was dark hair and a whole lot of white fabric. The bartender’s gaze met Emmett’s over the top of her head, and he gestured him over.