Slade sat in the chair that Mason had abandoned, asking Livvy about her leg, but her mind was reeling. Mason Rowe? Had she heard right? Mason Rowe. Impossible, she decided. Completely impossible.
“I’ll be right back,” Livvy said, cutting off whatever Slade was saying. “I need to go to the ladies’ room.”
She grasped the down coat and rice bag and stretched out her legs. When she stood, remarkably, she felt only a dull ache in her calf. Without bothering with her wet boots, she made her way to the knotty alder door with the stick figure of a woman above it. Once inside the bathroom, she set the coat and rice bag on the granite counter, then pulled out her phone.
She didn’t know why her fingers were trembling when she typed Mason Rowe thriller author into her Safari app. Thankfully she had a few bars on her phone, and within fifteen seconds she had a list of links to click. She selected what looked like a main website.
Livvy gripped the edge of the bathroom counter when Mason Rowe’s picture came up. He was beardless, and the photo was black and white, but it was definitely him.
Homeless? Hardly.
Lumberjack? Definitely not.
Livvy started to laugh at her own naiveté. Her laugh quickly went from self-deprecating to uncontrollable. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she started to hiccup. She turned on the faucet and drank some water straight out of the sink, then splashed it on her face. Looking in the mirror, she saw the image of a completely hysterical woman.
Mason Rowe had come to her library.
He lived in Pine Valley in a rented cabin.
He’d heated up a rice bag for her and given her his coat.
She’d been mostly snappy and rude to him. Livvy ran a hand over her face and down her neck, wishing she could redo the last couple of days. She’d read every one of Mr. Rowe’s medical thrillers. Livvy had even put his book Cut on the library must-read-for-Halloween list last month. His writing was dark, complex, edgy, and beautiful.
Livvy placed a hand on her chest and wondered if she was about to hyperventilate. She picked up her cell phone again and called Felicity. So what if it was 7:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning? Livvy had to figure out how to deal with her shock.
Unfortunately, or fortunately for Felicity, she didn’t answer.
And Livvy couldn’t stay in the bathroom much longer. She inhaled. Exhaled. Closed her eyes. Tried not to think of all the things she’d said to Mason Rowe during their two encounters. What he’d said about Slade... Ironic because Mason Rowe always thanked various doctors and medical professionals in his acknowledgments with each book.
Yes, Livvy read the acknowledgments too.
“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “I can deal with this. I can be normal when I go back into the lobby and see Slade again.”
Less than a minute later, Livvy left the bathroom and found Slade talking on his cell phone in the lobby. The look on his face was one that Livvy was well familiar with. Concern mixed with business. It must be the hospital.
She slowed as she approached him.
He nodded at her without really seeing her. Livvy sighed. It wasn’t like she’d been planning on them hanging out at the lodge or maybe going to breakfast somewhere, but it would have been nice. Much better than trying to keep up with him on a snowy hillside. She crossed to the chair she’d sat in and picked up her beanie and gloves. She shoved them into the pockets of her coat—the one Mason Rowe had told her wasn’t warm enough.
He’d been right, of course.
Then she sat and pulled on her boots. They were still wet. When she got back to her house, she’d soak in a hot bath for at least an hour, then wear her warmest slippers the rest of the day. She stood and grabbed the ski poles. There was no doubt Slade would be taking her home soon.
Slade ended his call, and by the look in his green eyes, Livvy already knew what he was going to say.
“Sorry, Liv,” he said anyway. “I’ve got to get to the hospital. One of my regular patients was admitted. The surgeon wants to consult with me.”
“It’s all right,” Livvy said, and surprisingly it was. She didn’t feel pouty. In fact, she felt sort of relived. She could soak in that bath, complain to Felicity, then look up everything she could find on Mason Rowe. She had his winter coat, and when he came to pick it up, she wanted to somehow redeem her idiocy. And... see if she could get him to do a library event.
It would be huge. He was published in dozens of languages and sold millions and... she had his rice bag.
Breathe, Livvy.
He’d been really nice to her, so there was a good chance that he’d agree to a library event. Or was he one of those authors who didn’t make smaller public appearances? Did he have an established honorarium? Probably. But she wouldn’t let her hopes fall until she could speak to him about it.
“What are you smiling about?” Slade asked as they walked out of the lobby into the cold air.
“Oh.” Was she smiling? “I’m glad my charley horse is gone, I guess.”
Slade nodded and grasped her free hand.
Livvy couldn’t have been more surprised. Slade had never been this affectionate toward her in public. Granted, it was still early in the morning, and only the hotel personnel seemed to be around.
“I’m glad,” Slade said. “I guess the rice bag helped?”
“Yep.” Livvy didn’t want to get onto the subject of Mason Rowe. “How was the hike?”
Slade obliged the change in topic. “Beautiful. I love the first snowfall of the year. I’m hoping to get in some skiing this year.”
Since Livvy hadn’t been dating Mr. Dreamy Doc last year, she said, “Do you ski a lot?”
“I always seem to be making plans to ski.” He shrugged. “But you know me, patients first.”
Livvy nodded. She did know that about Slade, very well in fact.
They reached the Land Rover, and Slade opened her door, then took the ski poles to the back of the SUV. Once he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, Livvy was shivering again. Her wet boots weren’t any help, but she didn’t want to put on her beanie and gloves again, so she spread the down coat over her lap.
Slade must have noticed because he cranked up the heater, then pulled out of the parking lot. “What was that Mason guy saying about me when I came into the lodge?”
Oh. “Um, he was being dramatic, I guess,” she hedged. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Slade glanced over at her. “Was he hitting on you?”
“What? No.” Livvy scoffed. “He was just being nice. I stopped to sit on the wall that was apparently the backyard of his cabin.”
“Oh, so he’s one of those types,” Slade said, an edge in his voice.
Livvy bristled. “What do you mean?” she asked, although she could probably guess.
“You know, the silver-spoon type,” he said. “I’ll bet he didn’t put himself through college and medical school, living on less than a shoestring.”
“Well, he’s not a doctor either.” Livvy had never really argued with Slade, and she hadn’t meant to sound so bratty, but Slade didn’t know anything about Mason Rowe. Of course, Mason had been equally judgmental about Slade.
She was spared an answer from Slade by his ringing phone.
He used his Bluetooth to answer, and he was still on the phone with one of the nurses when he pulled up to Livvy’s house. She mimed that she was okay to get out on her own.
Relief crossed his face, and Livvy grabbed her stuff and hopped out of the Land Rover.
She hurried to the front door through the fallen snow that had covered her earlier tracks. She was shivering again as she unlocked the door. Everything was dark and quiet inside; Mallory was still asleep. Lucky.
Livvy’s phone rang, startling her in the quiet. Felicity. She and Felicity were both transplants to Pine Valley, and Felicity worked in the local bookshop. When Livvy had visited the bookshop one afternoon, they’d struck up an immediate friendship over a conversation about their favorite books. Even better, Felicity lived down the block, renting her grandparents’ former home.
“Hi,” Livvy said. “You won’t believe what a mess I’ve made of things.”
“Good or bad?” Felicity asked.
“I don’t know yet.” Livvy went into her bedroom and told Felicity everything, from meeting a strange lumberjack guy in the library to how she’d gotten a cramp while hiking with Slade. By the time she got to the part about finding out Mason’s true identity, Felicity was laughing.
“It’s not funny,” Livvy insisted, but a smile had crept onto her face. “I was completely mortified... I mean, I called him homeless.”
“Well, at least you didn’t ask him if he was a lumberjack.”
“True.” Livvy lay back on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I hate to admit this, but Slade was peevish. I should be happy about that, right? Like maybe he was jealous?”
“Oh, he was jealous,” Felicity said with confidence. “I’ll bet you twenty bucks that he calls you later today.”
“Ha. That would be a record for him.” Livvy turned on her side and ran her hand over the smoothness of the yellow-and-white bedspread. “Although he did say something about Tuesday night.”
“You mean you’ll see him twice in the span of a week?” Felicity asked with fake mocking.
“I know, right? Maybe I needed a knight in shining armor, who happens to be a bestselling author, to wake Slade up to how fabulous I am.”
“Exactly,” Felicity agreed in a teasing tone. “Your doctor will propose by Thanksgiving, and you’ll elope during Christmas break.”
Livvy sighed. “I’d be lucky enough to get kiss number two by Thanksgiving.” She’d told Felicity about their first kiss, and both women had swooned over it, but now with the passage of time, it was all a little less swoony.
“Oh, wow,” Felicity suddenly said.
“What?” Livvy sat up on her bed.
“I just looked up Mason Rowe’s website, and all I can say is mm-hmm.”
Livvy rubbed her forehead. “He’s good-looking if you like the lumberjack type.”
“And since you’re set on pale-faced, hiking-loving, white-toothed doctors, I’ll leave you to your pursuits,” Felicity said.
Livvy groaned. “Slade’s and my relationship might be moving slower than a snail race, but he’s not pale-faced—at least not vampire-pale.”
Felicity laughed. “Well, let me know if lumberjack man shows up at the library tomorrow. If nothing else, you know where he lives.”
“Yeah, I do.” Livvy rose from her bed; it was time to start the bath water. “I just hope that if I apologize sufficiently, he’ll agree to do a library event.”
“I’m betting another twenty bucks that he’ll say yes.”