Authors: Addison Fox

Baby It's Cold Outside (5 page)

BOOK: Baby It's Cold Outside

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“Aha.” Their new friend nodded sagely over her wine and Sloan knew there had been some chasing in Avery Marks’s past. What she also knew was that now wasn’t the time to go poking at wounds that clearly hadn’t healed.

Sloan glanced toward the lobby door. “So I guess we should probably bundle up for the walk to the town hall.”

“You really want to go?”

She’d known Grier far too long not to notice the reluctant tone in her voice. “Let me guess. Your newly discovered half sister will be there.”

“Yeah.” Grier stared miserably down into her wine.

“Well, then I definitely want to go.”

“Are you sure? We can sit here and drink more wine and gossip.”

“Oh no. I’m going.” Sloan stood, pleased to see her boast had been correct. Three glasses of wine and she could still stand tall on her stilettos.

“You sure about this?” Avery asked, standing up to collect their spoils. “I can store all this until you get back, or we can just stay right here and enjoy our cozy little wine klatch.”

“Nope.” Sloan grabbed Grier’s discarded coat from a nearby couch arm and shoved it at her. “Come on, Grier. Let’s go light Kate’s fuse.”

Chapter Three

W
alker adjusted the microphone and watched as the Montgomery Meeting and Recreation Center filled up with the citizens of Indigo, Alaska, population seven hundred and twelve.

No matter how old he got or how many years he lived here, there was something odd about seeing your name associated with large gathering places. And while it might have been in tribute to his grandfather, he was the one who carried the name now.

“Is everything ready, dear?” His grandmother stepped near the podium. She’d just finished up a conversation with the two women he considered her partners in crime—Julia Forsyth and Mary O’Shaughnessy—and a broad smile creased her face into warm, welcoming lines.

“Yep. Just as you like it, Mayor Montgomery. Your adoring fans await.”

His grandmother swatted him on the arm. “You try saying that without the cheek next time.”

Walker leaned over and flipped the switch to ON, unable to hold back the smile. He did love to tease his grandmother. Partly because she was so easy to trip up and partly because she enjoyed it so much. “You’re on.”

As the reading of the last meeting’s minutes washed over him—a recap of the town budget, whether to do an expansion of the high school’s locker room at the hockey rink and how to deal with an errant moose who had been making a nuisance of himself in the wee hours of the morning at Patty’s General Store—Walker found his usual seat at the back of the room.

He had a quick handshake with Mary’s grandson, Mick O’Shaughnessy, and then dropped onto the cold, unforgiving metal of a shiny folding chair. Before he could answer his friend’s whispered “Yo,” Walker’s gaze caught on about a mile of blond hair a few rows in front of them.

Long, artful waves tripped down her back, and even without a view of her face, Walker knew he’d never seen the woman before.

His grandmother’s voice filled the meeting hall as she moved from a reading of the minutes into new business, but Walker heard none of it. All he saw was the long luscious fall of hair as he waited for the woman to turn her head.

Who was she?

From the corner of his eye his gaze snagged on Mick’s fists, where they were balled on his knees. “You okay, buddy?”

“Hmmm?”
His old friend was looking in the same direction Walker had been.

Was Mick as enamored with the blonde as he was?

And how in the hell had he managed to channel his high school self and get angry at that fact?

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Mick nodded his head ever so slightly at the women.

“So why do you look like you’re ready to do battle with Patty’s moose?” At his friend’s wry stare, Walker added, “And who’s the woman who’s got you all torqued up?”

“I don’t know who the blonde is, but the little ball of fire next to her is Grier. Jonas Winston’s daughter.”

Walker heard the barely suppressed note of longing in his friend’s voice and felt his stomach muscles unclench. “I know who Grier is. I’ve been representing her.”

Mick rubbed a hand over the three days’ growth of beard on his face, then turned to face him. “Right. Right.”

“They seem awfully tight.”

Mick’s gaze returned to the women. “The blonde just arrived today. It was all anybody over at the landing strip could talk about. They were rather offended seeing as how she took the train up from Anchorage.”

Ah, yet again, the small-town grapevine was in full swing. How could he have thought it would be anything but ripe with information?

“Maggie needs to get that stick out of her ass and spend a bit more time focused on air traffic control and a little less time on gossip. The train ride up is beautiful and a hell of a lot easier on the stomach for a newbie.”

Mick held up his hands, but a small smile played at the corner of his lips. “I’ve had far too many pukers to argue with that.”

“So do you know who she is?”

“Grier’s friend from New York. That’s about all I know. Since the entire town’s taken Kate’s side, no one’s bothered to talk to Grier. Therefore, no one’s got the gossip on exactly who the friend is or why she’s here.”

“Maggie must be dying to know the details.”

Mick nodded, the smile moving into a full-on grin. “Pretty much. I’m hard-pressed to complain since it’s taken her attention firmly off the grandmothers’ competition.”

As if on cue, Sophie’s comments to the assembly shifted into a series of instructions for the coming days.

Walker let out a light groan. “Every time I think they’re going to give this damn game up, they ratchet up the stakes. Do you know my grandmother actually tried pitching this to the morning shows?”

“Tried?”

“Editorial killed it at the last minute.”

“You know why?”

Walker thought about the discreet phone calls he made to a few old friends from college. “Let’s just say I still know a few people and know how to pull a few strings.”

“Fuck me,” Mick whispered. “That fancy Ivy League education of yours is clearly good for something.”

Walker settled back in his chair, his gaze unwillingly drawn again to Grier’s friend. “Damn straight. I may choose to live in the wilderness, but I’ve made sure my contacts extend far beyond here.”

“I really don’t know what’s gotten into you.” Grier’s heavy whisper floated over Sloan as she resettled herself on a hard metal folding chair. She’d already introduced herself to five older couples and three teenage boys dressed in full hockey gear who’d seemed impressed with the attention.

“You text me four days ago with a desperate SOS message to come help you. That’s what I’m doing. Helping you.”

“You call this help?” Grier managed to maintain a whisper, but her darting eyes had the slightly glazed look of a pixie on a wine bender.

Good.

It was about damn time Grier had someone to share the burden with.

“Seriously, Sloan. Attending the town meeting of an entire city full of people who’d like nothing more than to see the back of me as I walk out of here? Oh yeah. This is a great idea.”

“You’re showing your interest in the community and its well-being and you’re meeting some people in the process. How could that be a bad thing? Besides, it’s all Kate’s fault you’re in this mess.”

“Actually”—Grier waved her hand—“it’s technically my absentee father’s fault.”

“True. But putting that aside, everyone seems quite lovely. Chooch and Hooch are absolutely darling, and I love the fact they’re celebrating their fiftieth anniversary. Could you imagine?”

Grier nodded, a small smile breaking through the mask of anxiety that tightened her bow-shaped mouth. “It is pretty amazing.”

“Besides.” Sloan took a surreptitious glance around the rapidly settling room. “We need to make the town realize that
you’re
the sister they need to side with. I think this is a damn good place to start.”

The more Sloan thought about it, the more she had warmed up to the idea. Grier wasn’t the problem. Her rotten sister was. Speaking of which . . .

Where was this sainted martyr who the whole town had sided with?

Reaching back to fiddle with her coat, discreetly rearranging it on her chair, Sloan allowed her gaze to roam the room with a bit more focus. She started with the back, having already realized the majority of the chairs in front of her were taken by the town’s old-timers.

Although she saw several younger townsfolk, no one face stood out as a likely sibling. There wasn’t one single woman who resembled Grier. And now that she was taking a closer look, Sloan realized no one was even looking their direction. Surely, if Kate were here, she’d be staring daggers at Grier by now.

Sloan continued her quick perusal, knowing she was close to blowing her cover. There was only so long a person could reasonably take to hang their coat behind them, even if you did fiddle with your purse straps around the thick material. She was about to turn back toward the front when her gaze hit a freaking brick wall of masculinity.

The two men sat side by side, their shoulders so broad they’d pushed their chairs apart to accommodate their size. Her gaze roamed over the first, a long, rangy sort with a few days’ worth of scruff.

Hot. Definitely.

Her type? Not so much.

Even if he had been her type, Sloan acknowledged a moment later, it wouldn’t have mattered once her eyes met those of the large man sitting next to him.

A heavy navy blue sweater framed his broad shoulders and zipped up into a collar that set off his thick throat and hard-planed jaw. A firm nose filled his face—just the wrong side of too large—but oddly, it kept his face from veering into pretty-boy territory.

Oh no, this one screamed one hundred percent male, and there was nothing pretty about him.

There was something magnetic.

Compelling.

Sexual.

But
pretty
? Not a chance.

Sloan swallowed around the lump in her throat and determined to turn herself back around. She’d nearly dragged her gaze away when those molten chocolate eyes of his darkened in interest, his eyebrows winging up.

She felt the answering tug at the corner of her lips, had nearly offered up a large smile when Grier tugged so hard on her arm Sloan was practically thrown sideways.

“What is it?”

Grier’s hand tightened on hers, her wide-eyed gaze focused firmly on the doorway. A small, petite brunette a few inches taller than Grier walked in the door.

Even if she hadn’t known her best friend for over fifteen years, Sloan would have had no problem pegging the woman who stood in the doorway as her sister. They even walked the same way—head held high as they took a quick look at their surroundings.

They were
perky
, even though Grier hated the word with a passion.

The entire room erupted in a chorus of whispered murmurs. Grier’s arch nemesis—and little sister—had just arrived for the town hall.

For all his grandmother’s talk about his “advanced age of thirty-six,” Walker Royce Montgomery had never actually witnessed a catfight. Based on the tension that had suddenly gripped the room, he suspected the possibility had just gone up considerably that he’d see one before the evening was out.

“I’ll lay you odds this isn’t going to go very well,” Mick intoned in Walker’s ear as Sophie’s voice continued to drone on from the podium at the front of the room.

“You know I don’t take sucker bets.”

Walker watched as Kate Winston navigated the room, cherry-picking a seat two rows in front of where her sister sat. The resemblance between the two women was uncanny and, although he was as interested in the drama unfolding as the rest of the room, he couldn’t quite tear his gaze away from Grier’s friend.

The long blond hair had made him instantly think of a fun-loving beach girl. But it was the hard set of her jaw as Kate took a seat two rows in front of Grier that suggested something else.

A warrior.

An avenging goddess.

Shit, when had he gotten so fucking fanciful? He gave himself a mental slap. She was ready to defend her friend, pure and simple.

His grandmother’s voice rose in pitch as she realized her audience’s attention was waning. “We’ll begin welcoming all the new bachelorettes next Thursday evening.”

“Sophie, one of them’s already arrived,” Chooch McGilvray interrupted from the front. “Hooch and I just met Sloan over there.”

Sloan
.

Walker rolled it around in his mind, marrying her name to the image of the avenging goddess, and found he liked it.

BOOK: Baby It's Cold Outside

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