I’ll bet it’s seventy and sunny in LA right now.
I sigh and resign myself to struggling down the narrow road to the bottom of the mountain.
I adore my hometown of Cunningham Falls, Montana. I grew up here, along with my parents and their parents before them. It’s a town that welcomes the tourists that flock in by the thousands during both the ski and summer seasons to explore the wilds of Montana. But despite the many newcomers each season, the locals pretty much all know each other, whether we like it or not.
And there have been many times over the years that I’d rather they not.
I bite my lip and turn left out of the driveway, taking it slow. The snow is coming down so hard, it’s like a thick blanket draped all around my car, making it hard to see the road before me or the steep drop-off to my right.
If not for the dark trees, I’d be screwed.
I inch my way carefully down the hill, around two switchbacks, and breathe a huge sigh of relief when I safely come out at the bottom and, through the large snowflakes, see the stoplight marking the main road.
Just as I come to a stop at the light, I hear screeching tires and the unmistakable sound of rubber sliding on ice just before a Mercedes SUV comes to a stop against my rear fender.
Perfect.
I open my door and step out just as the driver of the Mercedes does too, and we survey the damage.
“Well, it could be a lot worse,” I mutter.
“I’m sorry,” the tall stranger says, kneeling by the wreckage. “I guess I took that corner too fast.”
“I guess so,” I agree with a nod. “You barely touched me, though.”
“Looks like you have a bit of a dent there,” he replies and stands, then grins down at me. “Jillian Sullivan! You haven’t changed a bit in all these years.”
I feel my eyes widen and I cover my mouth with mitten-encased hands, then laugh and throw my arms around the tall, broad man who slammed into my car.
“Max Hull!”
He hugs me tight and then pulls away, offering me a wide grin. His blond hair is short and styled conservatively. His green eyes are happy, if somewhat guarded, and he seems to be distracted.
God, the Hull brothers are hot.
“Are you here visiting Brad and Jenna?” Brad Hull is a cop here in Cunningham Falls, and Jenna runs a beautiful bed and breakfast called The Hideaway on Whitetail Mountain. I grew up with all three of the Hull siblings.
“I am.” He nods, frowns, and then adds, “Thinking about moving home.”
“Really? Is this good news?” I ask and then laugh, looking up into the snow that continues to fall around us. “Now that I think about it, maybe we should catch up when we aren’t standing in a blizzard.”
“Good plan.” He grins and kisses my cold cheek chastely, and I pray with all my heart that I feel a tingle of awareness, but there is nothing.
Damn.
“Let’s exchange numbers so I can at least have your car fixed.” Max pulls his phone out of his denim pocket and begins typing away on the screen. I rattle off my number, then grin when I see a text come through from him and save his number to my contacts.
“My brother can probably just knock the dent out with a hammer, Max, but thanks. I’m more worried about your expensive Mercedes.”
“Doesn’t look like I got a scratch. We got lucky.” He winks and backs toward his car. “How is Ty?”
“Good. He’s engaged to Lauren Cunningham, you know.”
“I had no idea. Speaking of brothers and dating, I heard you and Brad went out a couple months ago.”
“Yeah, once. We decided we’re better at being friends.” Because I’m a dating failure and I have too much damn baggage.
“Sounds like there’s lots of news to catch up on.”
“Be careful, they haven’t sanded that road yet. I’ll see you later!” We wave and I climb back into my car, soaked through from the quarter-sized flakes. I shake my head and send snow spraying through the interior, put the car in drive, and make my way home.
I slide several times while turning corners, and curse myself for not replacing my tires before the snowy season arrived.
Truth be told, I should just get a new car. A bigger one, with all-wheel drive. Especially since I show homes all over this valley, which means I drive through snow, mud, and the elements every day. It hasn’t been a matter of not being able to afford a new vehicle, it’s been a lack of time. Between the move home, starting the new job, and my soon-to-be sister-in-law’s horrible attack at the hands of her ex-husband, there just hasn’t been time to car shop.
As I approach the little house that I rent from my best friend, Cara, I see the snowplow has thankfully been down my street already, but they blocked in my driveway.