“If you don’t like it, maybe tell yourself how you feel. And try the truth this time.”
I headed for the door, but Rudy wasn’t so easily discouraged.
“He was a loser anyway,” he went on.
“Bye,” I called back, wrenching open the front door and hurrying out.
“He didn’t deserve you. My spirit guide says this was an important life lesson about picking unavailable guys who—”
I slammed the door, effectively ending my morning session of unsolicited relationship therapy.
’Til tomorrow.
3
Easton
I woke grumpy as hell, thanks to a full night of tossing and turning. My leg ached more than it had in days. Almost as if it, along with everything else, was working against me. Or maybe it was punishing me for actually stepping foot back in this town. Whatever the reason, the fact that it hadn’t healed yet was a mystery. One I intended to solve as soon as possible. Then, I was getting the hell out of Midnight Falls. Again.
Downstairs, the crowded dining room of Nicole’s Bed and Breakfast only made me more antsy. The place itself was a local legend. Stories of ghosts and other supernatural activity brought in tourists year-round, provided the mountain roads were passable. The building’s design was half-gothic with its spires and gables and half-gingerbread house. The perfect blend of young and old, mysterious and modern. Fitting since that was an accurate description for Nicole, the owner.
She could always be found with New Agey crystals hanging around her neck and romance book in her hands. Rumors had always swirled that she was an actual witch—likely considering how many there were in the Falls. But if she did practice, she kept it to herself.
I’d only ever been inside the guest rooms as a teenager when I’d done some handyman stuff for her. Being a guest felt a little strange, but the accommodations were comfortable, and the food was fantastic.
The thing that irritated me was the other guests.
Tourists, each of them in brand-new hiking gear, sat around a long, polished wood table. Morning sunlight streamed through windows set against lacy curtains. Discussions ranged from the best hiking locations to the most “paranormal” restaurants. The recent boom of various fantasy franchises in books and movies had lit up this town like a damn hotspot. Year-round, our hotels and bars were crammed with people hoping to catch a glimpse of a sparkly vamp. Then there were the hikers. Decked out in hot-off-the sale-rack boots and brand new packs stuffed with freeze-dried hummus packages.
Idiots, all of them.
Out of curiosity, I checked the shoes of the diners chatting away at the table. Sure enough, every one of their soles was clean as a whistle. Just off the rack. The worst way to hike was wearing new shoes. But everyone who came through the Falls learned that the hard way. And I wasn’t about to spoil tradition now.
Swiping a coffee to go, I slipped out the door and headed to my appointment. Nicole’s was in the heart of downtown and only a couple blocks from my destination. I’d picked it so I could skip the drive, conserve gas money. It was the tradeoff for being able to afford the room while still paying rent on my empty apartment back in Colorado.
Without snowboarding, I wasn’t sure what I’d do, but so far, I’d been ignoring the possibility that this was permanent.
Yes, money was tight until I figured it out. But there was no way I was staying at my parents’ house. My meager bank account would have to accommodate.
By the time I reached Turning Point, I was limping. Tossing my half-empty coffee into the garbage, I gripped the railing until my knuckles turned white, pulled the front door open, and stepped inside.
Gone were the earth tones and camping photos Gene had tacked to the walls when I was a kid. Instead, cool greens and blues greeted me—walls the color of a calm sea, photos of grassy fields, plump pillows set against love seats and rocking chairs. It felt relaxing.
I exhaled.
“Good morning.” Instead of Meg herself, a receptionist with wire-framed glasses and about forty-seven bracelets handed me a pen. “You’re Easton Raines.”
“That’s me.”
I was used to being recognized in Breckenridge, thanks to all the press Steve had gotten me over the last couple of years, but in this town, I was more wary than flattered. This chick could know me for my boarding or for my father.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” she added, smiling.
Shit. Had we met before? She looked to be around my age, but I couldn’t place her.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“Leslie.” Her smile became more of a wince. “We had English together junior year.”
I frowned.
“We ran cross country together.”
Recognition finally hit me. Leslie had been five-foot-nothing and flat-chested, not a curve in sight last time I’d seen her. She hadn’t even triggered her wolf yet if memory served. Now, she’d definitely filled out and grown up. Curvy and cute. And married if the ring on her finger was any indication.
“Oh, of course. Wow, you look…”
She turned away with a sheepish smile. “Different, I know. I have three kids now.”
“I was going to say amazing.” I flashed a smile at her that covered up the pain I was in.
“Aw, you’re sweet. Thank you.” She reached for some papers, and I could tell by her wolf’s scent that I’d flustered her. “Anyway, you can fill these out, and we’ll get you all set up.” She thrust a clipboard at me, all business now.
“Is Meg around? I’d love to say hi,” I said.
Her expression fell. “Meg and Gene passed away about a year ago.”
Her words nearly knocked the wind from me. “I didn’t know. What happened?”
“Car accident up on the pass, end of last season.”
Her eyes filled with tears and I stared back at her, completely lost. My mom had never said anything. But then, we barely spoke these days.
“They were good people,” I said finally.
“Yes, they were.”
Offering a nod, I took the paperwork and limped to the nearest chair.
For the next few minutes,
