Let It Snow (The Hope Falls Series) Read online

  Let It Snow

  by

  Melanie Shawn

  Copyright © 2014 Melanie Shawn

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing from Melanie Shawn. Exceptions are limited to reviewers who may use brief quotations in connection with reviews. No part of this book can be transmitted, scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any written or electronic form without written permission from Melanie Shawn.

  This book is a work of fiction. Places, names, characters and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Design by Hot Damn Designs

  Copyedits by Mickey Reed Editing

  Proofreading Services by Raiza McDuffie

  eBook Design by BB eBooks

  Published by Red Hot Reads Publishing

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Excerpt: My First

  Excerpt: Sweet Reunion

  Other titles by Melanie Shawn

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  ‡

  “Can I tell you a secret?” the busty redhead whispered loudly over the sounds of music playing from the jukebox and people laughing, talking, and playing pool in JT’s Roadhouse. The bar was exceptionally crowded, especially for a Wednesday night. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

  Jake wasn’t sure if he should clue her in that half the bar knew that little “secret.” Several times when she’d bent over the pool table to aim and shoot, she’d flashed a beaver shot. It would probably be the right thing to do to point it out.

  Nah.

  If she were drunk, he would definitely clue her in and even make sure that she didn’t embarrass herself—any more than she had!—or get into any trouble. But she was as sober as could be. She had to know that she was putting on a show. Besides, his brother Eric was the cop, not him. Firemen didn’t have to arrest people for indecent exposure.

  Not to mention, several guys from the station house were seated on the barstools that lined the wood-paneled walls surrounding the pool tables and they were enjoying the view. So instead of commenting, Jake just casually chalked his cue as a devilish smile spread across his face.

  He knew that Carrie…or…Cassie…or…Candy or whatever her name was thought that she would be going home with Jake tonight. She’d been dropping hints about seeing his new house since she’d challenged him to a game of pool. Jake wasn’t sure how he was going to break it to her that she would not be getting the grand tour of his abode anytime soon. Jake wasn’t going to be bringing her home to his condo, which he still lived in—or to his new home, which he had not spent a single night in.

  It’s not that she wasn’t attractive. Standing five foot six, she had gorgeous red hair that flowed all the way down to her lower back, big brown eyes—that she’d been batting at him all night!—and curves that reminded him of a pinup model. And it’s not that he had an issue with her exhibitionist tendencies. If she wanted to give him a preview of the goods, hey, more power to her. She actually fit Jake’s criteria for a hook-up hottie to a tee.

  But Jake still wasn’t interested. Since the day he’d gotten the keys to his new home three months ago—the home he’d wanted since he was ten years old, the one he’d seen his first day as a paper boy—he hadn’t been “entertaining” as much as he normally did.

  Or at all.

  The truth was he hadn’t brought a woman to his new home since Lauren, his realtor-slash-friend—who also happened to co-host Home Sweet Vacation Home, which showcased vacation homes of the rich and famous—had placed those two little keys into his hands.

  “Your turn, Jakey,” the redhead purred suggestively as she ran her fingers up and down her pool cue.

  “Yeah, Jakey, it’s your turn.” Levi, who not only owned JT’s Roadhouse but was also one of Jake’s good friends, smiled broadly as he set down another long neck on the tall round table in front of Jake.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jake noticed Little Miss Flash-A-Lot’s eyes scan Levi from head to toe appreciatively. It didn’t bother Jake at all that she seemed interested. In fact, it gave Jake an idea.

  “Come here, sweetheart.” Jake lifted his hand, motioning for the redhead to step closer. When she did, he asked, “Have you met Levi? He owns this place.”

  A flirtatious twinkle appeared in her big brown eyes as she said, “No, I haven’t. Hi, I’m Courtney. I moved here about a month ago.”

  Courtney. Right! Jake knew it was something like that.

  Levi grinned down at her. “Nice to meet you, Courtney,” he said, his six-foot-four-inch frame towering over her. “Welcome to Hope Falls.”

  Courtney smiled seductively before coyly dipping her head. When she did, Levi glanced over at Jake with a questioning look in his eye. One that silently asked why Jake would be introducing this girl, who was obviously “a sure thing,” to Levi after he’d already put in time with her.

  Jake shrugged in response. He didn’t have an answer for that. He just wasn’t interested.

  Levi shook his head a little, smiling as he walked back to the full bar—not one empty seat. Jake noticed several people already trying to get Levi’s attention. When JT, Levi’s uncle, had owned the bar, he’d always had at least two people, if not three, working—even on weeknights. Levi bought the bar almost two years ago and, except for a busboy, had run it on the solo tip. Jake didn’t know how he did it.

  “Jakey, it’s your turn,” Randy, the fire equipment mechanic, sing-songed in a high-pitched voice.

  Looking down at the table, Jake assessed his next move. He could easily end the game in four shots and head home. When the objective of the evening was not to find someone to share a couple hours with between the sheets, hanging out at the same bar five nights a week got a little old. But since the alternative was going back to his condo, turning on Sports Center, and being alone, he’d decided that playing pool with the added bonus of getting a peepshow was definitely the way to go.

  Leaning over, he lined up his shot. Then, gripping the pool stick a little too high, he pulled back and hit the cue ball just to the left, banking the six off the side, not sinking it into the corner—a shot he could have made one handed!

  Courtney giggled and jumped up and down, celebrating the fact that Jake had missed the shot. All four of Jake’s fellow firefighters nodded their heads in thanks. Chris, the station’s engine driver, even mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

  After Courtney b
ounced enthusiastically—causing her lady-lumps to almost spill out of her shirt—she began circling the table, running her fingers along the felted sides, “looking” for her next shot. Really, she was just putting on a show. Obviously, she loved the attention, and who was Jake to judge.

  *

  Tessa’s nails dug into her palms as she gripped the steering wheel tightly. Her teeth were biting down on the inside of her cheek so hard she was scared she was going to draw blood. Breathing in shallow pants as she squeezed her thighs together, she tried desperately to concentrate on the small piece of the highway that was illuminated by her headlights. Her eyes were watering, causing her vision to blur, which made driving in these stormy conditions on mountain roads doubly—if not triply—dangerous.

  Why? Why in the name of God and all that is holy did I decide to grab not one but two twenty-four-ounce Mega Monster energy drinks in Sacramento?

  With a bladder the size of a peanut, she knew better. Sure, she’d almost fallen asleep several times on the long boring drive up the 5, but Tessa was quickly realizing that trying to hold in her bursting bladder while operating a moving vehicle—in the rain, at night!—was not proving that much safer than nodding off behind the wheel. Her wipers waved furiously back and forth in front of her as rain pounded down on her windshield. Tessa had never really given much credence to the idea that the sounds of water caused you to need to pee more. But after driving for the last hour in the rain with a full bladder, she was definitely signing off on that theory.

  “Okay, okay, okay, okay,” Tessa repeated out loud to herself, trying to calm down. She talked to herself a lot. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was left over from moving around so much as a kid. The life of an Army brat was very nomadic. She’d been painfully shy as a kid, so making friends hadn’t been easy. Especially because each time she had known she would just have to do the same thing all over again in a year or so.

  The trip down memory lane was not helping to keep her mind off the impending emergency she was facing. She really didn’t think she could hold it in much longer without potentially seriously damaging an organ or two. Just when she was either going to surrender to the panic that was rising up inside of her and break down crying hysterically or even pee her pants, she passed the wooden sign on the side of the highway that read:

  Welcome to Hope Falls

  Pop. 6,032

  Yes! She was almost there. Thank God!

  All she could think about was making it to Sue Ann’s Café, where she was staying for the night, jumping out of her car, and running to the restroom. She hadn’t been back to Hope Falls in close to thirteen years, but she did remember that the main strip Sue Ann’s Café was located on was only about five miles past the city limits.

  Just five miles. Which, with these nasty road conditions, meant about ten minutes. She just had to hold it for another ten minutes.

  Easy peesy. Right? Right!

  Just as Tessa was giving herself a much needed pep talk, the road curved sharply to the left, and as she turned, admittedly going about five miles too fast, her front right wheel dipped into a pothole, causing the car to jar suddenly.

  Uh oh!

  Tessa squeezed her thighs even tighter. Her bladder was so painfully full it felt like it was about to burst. She needed to face facts. There was a distinct possibility that she wouldn’t actually be able to make it the ten remaining minutes to her destination without peeing in her pants.

  Okay, she rationalized, if peeing in my pants is the worst thing that happens today, it’s not such a bad day.

  Tessa always tried to keep things in perspective. There were children starving, wars being fought, people dying and suffering beyond her wildest imagination; peeing her pants—although humiliating!—didn’t even make a blip on the radar screen of tragedy. Even on her personal bad-day scale from one to ten, it would only rank about a five.

  She was still trying to convince herself that wetting herself wouldn’t be the worst thing to ever happen to her when a large sign appeared through the rain like a giant neon savior. It read: JT’s Roadhouse.

  Yes! There would be no peeing of the pants today.

  Loosening her death grip on the steering wheel, she turned into the gravel parking lot, which looked to be filled to the brim. She drove up and down the back two rows. No luck.

  Come on. Where was the justice in the world?

  She was about to resort to pulling into the handicap spot when she spied a space three cars down. Maneuvering into the blessed spot was sketchy at best. She was bouncing up and down, doing her seated version of the pee-pee dance, clenching her thighs together, and biting her lip as she tried to pull her PT Cruiser in straight. Straight didn’t happen, but she was in between two cars and she hadn’t hit them so she was counting it as a win.

  Quickly pulling her keys out of the ignition, she opened the door as far as she could without hitting the truck in the space beside her. Then, making herself as flat as possible, she slithered out of the car head-first like a snake. As soon as she cleared it, she slammed the door and shivered from the cold. For a split second, she contemplated grabbing her jacket from the back seat but just as quickly dismissed the idea. Bathroom. She was laser-focused on the pressing need to find a bathroom.

  Stepping out, heavy raindrops fell over her as Tessa moved her feet as fast as she could across the tiny, wet rocks. This task was made significantly more difficult considering how badly she had to pee and the fact that she was wearing flip-flops, not the best shoes to navigate slippery gravel in the pouring rain while your bladder was about to explode.

  When she’d left sunny, eighty-two-degree San Diego this morning, she hadn’t thought about how bad the weather would be up in the Sierras. Her mind had been totally consumed with other aspects of her return to Hope Falls. A big brown-eyed, brown-haired, charming, sexy, painful aspect to be exact.

  Just as she reached the entrance, the front door swung open as a young blond-haired, blue-eyed guy walked out with a tipsy brunette on his arm. Tessa quickly moved past them, almost bumping into the guy who didn’t move to let her by.

  “Hi,” the guy said as Tessa scooted inside, his eyes giving her a thorough once-over.

  Seriously?

  Tessa’s skin crawled at the unwanted attention. Not only did she not like being the object of perusal, but this guy had the nerve to check her out while another woman hung on his arm. What a pig. Oh well. She quickly shook off the uncomfortable feeling. No time to worry about that. Right now, all that mattered was finding the bathroom.

  As she stepped inside, Tessa realized that, although she’d passed by JT’s more times than she could count the year that she’d lived in Hope Falls, she’d only been a seventeen-year-old senior in high school at the time and had never actually entered the twenty-one-and-over establishment, which meant that she had absolutely no idea where the bathrooms were.

  A woman happened to be passing by and Tessa reached out and grabbed her arm. “Where are the bathrooms?”

  Immediately picking up on the desperation in both Tessa’s eyes and voice, the pretty redhead quickly directed, “Down the hall to the left.”

  “Thank you!” Tessa moved through the tables, navigating as best she could on the wooden floors in wet rubber flip-flops.

  Although she was aware that the bar was packed with people, she had tunnel vision. The patrons and sounds around her were completely muted. The only sound she heard was her brain screaming that she needed relief!

  Tessa frantically pushed open the door marked ‘Ladies’ and saw that there was no line. “Thank God,” she said aloud to herself.

  She began unbuttoning her pants before she’d even closed the stall door. She sat down and all of the muscles in her body relaxed. Sweet relief.

  Now that the emergency situation had been resolved, the reality that she was actually back in Hope Falls sank into her like the Titanic after it hit the iceberg. Dread filled her being and her palms moistened. Pushing her anxiety-ridden feelings down, Tess
a decided this was not the time or place for a nervous breakdown.

  Stepping out of the stall, she moved to the sink and washed her hands. Glancing up at the mirror, she almost screamed bloody murder at the image staring back at her. She looked like a drowned rat.

  Raking her fingers through her shoulder-length hair, she tried to brush it out as best she could with her hand. It didn’t really help. Luckily, she was rocking the no-makeup look. Otherwise it would be melting down her face right now and she would look like a scary-clown-drowned-rat.

  Okay, nothing she could do about her drowned-rat appearance now. She just needed to keep her head down, make it back to her car, and get to the safe haven that was Sue Ann’s Café. That shouldn’t be too hard. The bar was packed. No one would pay any attention to her.

  Chapter Two

  ‡

  “Why can’t we play one more game?” Courtney whined as she stepped up to Jake and pressed her hands flat against his chest. The flirtatious redhead had just gotten back from the bar, where he’d seen her give Levi her number. “You said you’d play one more game. You can’t leave.”

  He would tell her not to get her panties in a bunch, but since she wasn’t wearing any, there was no point.

  “Can’t. I’ve got to be at the station house early,” Jake explained as he grabbed his coat off the barstool.

  “Please, Jakey.” Courtney’s whine had turned into a full pout, boo-boo lip and all. “I just want to play one more game. I almost won last time.”

  If she really believed that she’d almost beaten him in a game of pool, then either her IQ was several points lower than he’d originally given her credit for or she was delusional. Either way, his decision not to take her home tonight and introduce her to Levi instead was looking better and better.

  “Yeah, come on, Jakey. One more game.” Randy put his bottom lip out. Chris and Peter folded their hands together in silent pleas.

  Of course the guys wanted him to play one more game. It would give them more opportunities to look up Courtney’s too-short skirt and down her low-cut shirt.