Page 39 of All Snowed Gin

“What?”

“Silver Lining Sour. It’s the newest one from Southern Brothers Brewing. It’s really popular.”

Southern Brothers Brewing. That is the brewing company Rose works for. It is like someone has rung a gong, the reverberations rippling through me like a pebble tossed in a still pond. She might not have left her number, but she shared plenty with me about her life back in Hickory Hills. Including where she works. And where her brother works. And…

“Lou, that’s it.”

“What’s it? Beer? Beer solves a lot, dude, but I don’t think it’s the cure for this.”

“It just might be. Well, maybe not beer, but gin.”

“Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Yes, yes it is. As long as I don’t fuck this up too.

16

ROSE

“Wanna tell me why you look like someone burned your cocoa beans?” Tizzy asks, nudging my shoulder with hers.

The gesture knocks me out of my headspace, her question taking a moment to register. I blink, hard, trying to right myself. There’s no use in pretending I was paying attention. I was miles away, both my brain and heart still in a mountain cabin just outside Mistletoe Creek, Tennessee.

Continuing to stall, I look around the bar, letting out a happy sigh at the turnout. When Milo and Brandt called me the day after Christmas, just as I was hitting the highway, to tell me they wanted to throw a last-minute New Year’s Eve party at Pour Decisions—the Southern Brothers taproom here in Hickory Hills—I was a little skeptical that we could pull it off on such short notice. But I should know better than to underestimate those two. And Milo’s younger sister, Willa, a former Miss Georgia, who pulled together a meet and greet with local boy and mega country star Dustin Wild overnight last year. A New Year’s Eve party in five days must have been a cakewalk.

I’d jumped on the party idea though, welcoming it as a distraction from the clumsy exit I’d just made moments before. I have no idea what I was thinking. Clearly, I wasn’t thinking at all. Panicking was more like it.

My insides twist, Pierce’s voice still echoing inside my mind as he tells me that the bridge is clear and that my tire is being changed. I wanted to run out that door and tell the mechanic to stop, that it was no longer as important as I’d thought. That I was right where I wanted to be. Instead, my good Southern manners came out and I offered Pierce an out by saying I should pack. An out that he took.

It’s been quite nice having you here…

Now there’s a Southern brush-off if I ever heard one.

So much for thinking we had more time. And so much for thinking that there was something building between us. That all those things we shared, along with the epic sex, were anything more than two people passing the time.

“I’m fine,” I lie, looking at the bubbly strawberry blonde to my left. Her unruly waves flow over her bare shoulders, hiding the spaghetti straps of her dress, as she arches her brow to tell me that she doesn’t believe me. “Really.”

“Liar.”

“I’m just tired. Been a weird, wild week, you know?”

“You mean because you accidentally spent Christmas holed up in a mountain cabin with a sex god? Only to return home and plan a party?” Tizzy giggles.

“Yes, that.”

“Why don’t you call him?”

“I didn’t get his number. I was too busy…” I trail off, unsure about what word I’m looking for. “Tiz, I know this sounds crazy, but…I kinda fell for him. Yes, I know it was just a few days and we were all stuck in this bubble being snowed in, but…there was a connection. He made me feel things I never have. And I don’t just mean because we had epic sex. I mean, like, I could see myself spending my days, nights, weekends, holidays, everything with him.”

“I don’t think it sounds crazy. I do think that if you really feel that way, you should drive your ass back to that small town of his, knock on his door, and tell him that.”

I scoff. “And say what? Hi, thanks for taking my ass in off the street, putting up with me, and fucking me senseless to help distract both of us from the fact it’s Christmas. As a form of repayment I’m here to profess my love and just overall look like the nerd asking the jock to prom.”

“Not what I would go with. But, Rose…I’ve been where you are. So, trust me when I say I get it. Because I really, really do. And it’s weird when you suddenly find the person you want to argue with about what’s for dinner every night and you don’t have his phone number. But there’s nothing wrong with taking matters into your own hands either.”

I sigh. I want her to be right. I know it all worked out with her and Cary, but I am not Tizzy Mitchell. Rose Adler is not impulsive or free-spirited like that. Despite how much I wish I was.

“When that knock on the door woke us up, I was in the middle of this fairy tale-like dream. I was wearing a yellow dress, similar to Belle’s. It didn’t have as many ruffles in the skirt, and there was more shimmer to it, but it had cap sleeves like the Emma Watson version. I walked down this massive staircase and Pierce was waiting at the bottom and he escorted me into this ballroom and I suddenly knew how to waltz because we danced and he held me close and…” I sigh. “When I woke up I was smiling like an idiot. And then I found out Blanche was being fixed, and the realization hit me that I’m not Belle, and he’s not the Beast, and despite how it all started out, this one wasn’t getting a fairy-tale ending.”