Olivia Harmon looked even more wary now. Her brown eyes narrowed, and she bit the bottom of her lip. Which only brought Mason’s attention to the freckle above her mouth—the freckle he’d noticed in the picture on the library website.
“I looked up the library hours,” Mason told her, hoping his explanation sounded completely innocent. “And your picture and bio were on the website.” It was mostly true, just not really in that order.
She seemed both surprised and possibly irked. Then she shivered. She was going to catch hypothermia. What was her boyfriend thinking? He should have made sure she got to the lodge okay.
Mason stepped over the wall. “Come on, Olivia. I’ll walk you to the lodge, then I’ll show you how to get rid of that cramp.”
“You really don’t have to,” she said. “And I go by Livvy.”
“I’m at least walking you to the lodge, Livvy.”
She shrugged and grabbed the ski poles next to her. Then she started walking. He walked alongside her, and when she didn’t protest further, he took it as a good sign. She wore a beanie and gloves, but her coat wasn’t down, and her boots looked more like they were a fashion statement rather than built for snow. No wonder she was cold and her leg had cramped.
After a few moments of walking in silence, she cut him a glance. “I guess you aren’t exactly homeless if you live in that cabin.”
“I’m renting it,” he said. “So technically, I could be considered homeless.”
Her gaze moved to his again, interest in those brown eyes of hers. “Where are you from?”
“Colorado originally, but I live in San Diego now.”
She nodded. “So the snow isn’t too shocking to you.”
“No, not shocking,” he said. “Although I liked it a lot more as a kid than I do now. I’m not much of a skier, and it doesn’t look like you are either. You’re not dressed for the weather.”
“I haven’t quite built up my winter wardrobe.”
“You’re not one of the Pine Valley ski bums?”
“Hardly.” She laughed.
He liked her laugh. It meant she felt more comfortable around him, more relaxed.
“Last winter I spent indoors,” she continued. “I prefer warm fires, hot drinks, and a good book. I mean, don’t get me wrong. This snow is really pretty, as a view through a window.”
Mason smirked. “The right boots and a pair of wool socks can make all the difference.”
“Wool, huh?” Livvy mused. “Maybe I’ll try that for the next mountain hike.”
“You’re a glutton for punishment.”
She laughed again. And... they’d reached the lodge. So Mason walked her in and said, “Sit by the fireplace. I’ll be back in a minute.”
For a second, he thought she was going to argue with him, but instead she crossed to the huge hearth and sat in a leather chair in front of the blazing fire. Mason approached the concierge desk and asked the man to microwave the rice bag for four minutes. Mason expected the strange look he was given, but like any good concierge, the man didn’t ask questions.
Mason waited by the concierge counter, looking about the lodge. The giant hewn timbers, flagstone floor, and thick rugs made this place look like it could be in one of the decorator magazines. And it probably had been. His rented cabin was quite posh, and his was one of the smaller ones in the area. It seemed the wealthy had found refuge in Pine Valley.
Mason could technically consider himself among the wealthy—his royalty advances were six figures—but he wasn’t a pretentious person himself. Besides, he’d rather hang around the ordinary folk. Made it easier to develop characters for his books.
Speaking of observing people... Livvy seemed to be relaxed in her chair and had pulled out her phone. She’d taken off her beanie, and her dark curls were kind of a wild mess about her face. Then she winced and bent down and rubbed her calf.
“Here you are, sir.” The concierge had returned.
Mason thanked the man, then took the heated rice bag. It was too hot to hold in one hand for long, so he kept switching hands while he crossed to the hearth. Livvy looked up as he approached, and her brows lifted slightly as she watched him.
“How’s your leg?” he asked.
She hesitated. “Sore, but at least I’m warming up.”
Mason moved one of the chairs closer and sat down. “Put the heel of your foot on your chair, then wedge the rice bag against your calf. It will be hot at first, but then it will work its magic.”
“Sounds very scientific,” Livvy said, bending forward to take off her boot.
Mason blinked when he saw the type of socks she was wearing. “Uh, are those unicorn socks? Please tell me they are at least wool.”
Livvy’s cheeks pinked. “Not wool. I have a double layer of socks on.”
“Take off your other boot,” Mason said, shrugging out of his down coat. “And tuck both of your heels on the chair.”
Livvy didn’t argue and unlaced her other boot. Yep, both unicorn socks.
“Here.” He handed over the rice bag.
Livvy took the rice bag and wedged it between the calf and thigh of her folded leg. “I feel like a kid sitting on a too-big chair.”
Mason draped his coat over her legs. “The heat from the rice bag will warm up your legs and feet a lot faster with the coat acting as an insulator.” She did look like a little kid curled up on the chair.
“What are you, one of those survivalists?”
“Eagle Scout.” Mason sat on the chair next to her. “But mostly it’s common sense.”
“Slade just told me to flex my foot,” she said.
“Slade?”
“My boyfriend,” she said, exasperation in her tone.
“Oh, you mean the guy who left you out in thirty-degree weather at six o’clock in the morning?”
Livvy’s eyes flashed. “He’s a doctor, you know. He wouldn’t endanger me.”
Mason stared at her. “Well, if I get sick, I’ll be sure not to go to Dr. Slade.”
“Dr. McKinney,” she corrected.
Mason shook his head. “Whatever. I don’t care who he is; he’s a complete idiot. Not only does he not know how to treat a woman, but he put you in serious danger. He should get his medical license revoked.”
Instead of defending her boyfriend, Livvy’s face went pale.
Had he said too much? Then he realized she was looking past him. Mason turned. Standing behind his chair was a brown-haired man with about the whitest teeth Mason had ever seen. But the man’s smile wasn’t friendly, it was more... incredulous.
“I should get my license revoked? Why?” the man, who could only be Dr. Slade McKinney, said.
Mason had been in awkward situations before, but this beat them all. He stood instantly, and sure enough, he had a few inches on the doctor. But Mason had no advantage. He’d been caught calling the guy out. And seeing the doctor face to face made Mason regret his quick judgement—well, almost.
“Hey, Liv,” the doc said, looking at her now. “How are you doing? I turned around early because I was worried about you.”
Mason couldn’t help the scoff that came from his throat. He couldn’t have held it in if he tried. He guessed it had been at least forty minutes since Mason first saw “Liv” sitting on his stone wall.
“Much better,” she said in a cheerful tone. “I was waiting outside when I met, uh, Mason, and he gave me one of those heated rice bags . . .” Her voice trailed off when she looked down at the coat spread over her.
Her tone was way too cheerful, and Mason couldn’t figure out why. She should be railing on her boyfriend-slash-doctor.
The doc extended his hand toward Mason. “Okay, well, I guess I need to thank you for helping my girlfriend, Mason . . .?”
Unbelievable. The doctor guy was staking his territory. Why did a kind and humane deed have to have some sort of ulterior motive? “Mason Rowe.” He stepped back, not able to bring himself to shake the doctor’s hand. “I’ll let you take it from here, doc.” He spoke in a cheery tone that rivaled Livvy’s.
With barely a glance at Livvy, Mason said, “Keep the coat for now. I can get it from you at the library tomorrow. Nice to meet you all.” He strode away, crossing the luxurious rugs and moving around the custom leather furniture. He didn’t know if Livvy worked tomorrow, or when he’d get his coat back, but he didn’t need to stick around for more pleasantries.
Outside, the cold air was like the slap he needed. The wake-up call. His agent was right. He needed to focus on his writing. When he saw a woman sitting on his stone wall, he should have just let her be and not gotten involved.
Because now he had more questions than ever about Livvy Harmon, and he didn’t like that doctor-boyfriend one bit. Mason shouldn’t even care, because it was none of his business. He hardly knew Livvy, and so what if being around her made his pulse quicken?
It had been a couple of years since he’d dated anyone more than casually. Women quickly tired of the ups and downs of his writing days. When the days were bad, he didn’t want to do anything. When the days were good, he kept writing late into the night.
But... he’d never leave a woman stranded, like the doctor had left Livvy. Even if the lodge had been close by, she’d still been in a lot of pain.
Maybe this experience would be the turning point in their relationship. Mr. Fancy Doctor would realize how much he’d neglected his poor freezing-cold girlfriend and would put her needs before his for once.
Not that Mason could really preach because, well, he was the king of failed relationships. And as uncomfortable as it was for Mason to realize something about himself, it was true. He and the doctor had more in common than Mason would have liked. They were both selfish men when it came to relationships.