Next week’s comic strip has to be about falling in love. Your characters need to grow up, Grace. Instead of writing about funny things that happen on dates, I want you to write about endearing things that happen in love. Next week’s Valentine’s issue is the perfect time for Kate Can’t Date to take the next step into adulthood.
Valentine Schmalentine!
If there was one thing Grace couldn’t write—or draw—about, it was couples falling in love, which was why her comic strip was a satirical take on dating and mating. After all, one had to write about what one knew, right? And here in Deerfield, Alberta, where the pickings were slim to none, she was more likely to run into a moose at her favorite nightclub than the love of her life—which made it rather difficult to write about the adorable little things that supposedly happened between two people in love.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
She grabbed another sheet of paper and tried again. When she looked at her lame attempt to draw love, what she saw was some idiot standing on Kate’s doorstep, holding a wilted bouquet of flowers and a half-eaten box of chocolates. She gave an exaggerated sigh and gazed out her small sliver of an office window, thankful she actually had one in her pod.
Cold February wind whistled outside, blowing up a light dusting of snow in front of her frosty pane. Hugging herself to ward off a chill, Grace stared off into the distance and caught sight of Stone Cliff Resort, a vacation destination that beckoned travelers from all over the world. Fresh stock came in daily at Stone Cliff, all dressed in tight ski pants and ready to hit the slopes. Her fingers drummed on the sleeve of her blouse. Perhaps she should venture up to the lodge to see if she could find true love. Then again, most who vacationed at the resort during Valentine’s weekend were either committed couples or newlyweds, and truthfully, if she really wanted to find the right guy, she should probably stop thinking of them as fresh stock.
She glanced up to see her smokin’ hot co-worker, who also happened to be her neighbor and very best friend, coming toward her. Grace tapped her pencil on her desk as she watched Mr. Hot Pants himself walk with that easy confidence that drove women wild. Black dress pants hung low on his hips, tightening over hewn thighs with each sexy swagger. His button-down shirt rasped across broad shoulders, showcasing a firm body that had the opposite sex shedding their panties in record time.
Nathan Wright. Nate. Chick bait. Chick bait who knows how to date. Yeah, this was the kind of thing she did when she had writer’s block.
Regardless, unlike her, Nate most definitely did know how to date. He also knew how to fall in love, which—if the gossip around the water cooler could be believed, not to mention the noises she heard between their paper thin apartment walls—he was known to do every other weekend. Of course, none of those relationships ever lasted very long, but at least he knew how to fall in love and was clearly having great sex. The perma-smile on his handsome face was a true testament to that. Damned if she didn’t want to be having hot, break-the-headboard sex, too. The last guy she climbed into bed with went down on her like he was munching on one of Albert’s famous prime rib roasts. Cripes, she was about to ask if he needed a knife and fork.
“Hey Gracie,” Nate said, as he approached.
She warmed at the lazy yet sexy way her name rolled off his tongue. Gracie… She’d always gone by Grace, but for some reason, he was the only guy she ever let get away with cutsey-fying it. Yeah, okay, so she wasn’t immune to his charm, either. But they were friends and had been working across the hall from one another at the Gazette since they both graduated university and moved to Deerfield a little over a year ago. For Nate, the oldest of four boys, the small town was home, and his folks still lived in a quaint bungalow the brothers had all grown up in. For Grace, the mountain town was hundreds of miles away from the east coast suburb where she’d grown up, a place she called home, even though it lacked the warmth, comfort, and loving parents most associated with a home.
Nate, on the other hand, had grown up with everything she’d ever wanted, and she often joined him and his family when they all gathered for their big Sunday dinner. They welcomed her with open arms and treated her like she was one of their own. Grace was an only child, and while she loved the camaraderie, teasing jibes, and friendly rivalry among siblings, it also made her long for what he had all that much more. If she ever found herself walking down the aisle—and with the way things were going, she didn’t see that happening anytime soon—she’d want it to be with a guy who had what Nate had, so she could have one big crazy-ass family of her own.
Grace and Nate hung out often, but he had never looked at her as anything more than a friend. Then again, there were times he joked about taking her out, but she knew he was teasing. They were good friends, completely at ease with each other, and when they both ended up dateless on a Friday night, as they often
