Mason was starting to hate snow.
If only he’d hit his deadline when he was supposed to, he wouldn’t be in Pine Valley, shoveling another six inches of snow from a rented cabin’s driveway. Apparently there was a snow removal service for the cabins, but it didn’t come until after Mason wanted to leave for the day.
So Mason pulled on his boots, gloves, and hat and trudged outside. He supposed the falling snow was picturesque, but there was definitely truth in how too much of a good thing sort of spoiled itself.
Mason wasn’t asking for much, and over the past couple of weeks, his routine had been simple.
Wake early, go to the Pine Valley Recreation Center. Run the track, lift weights, shower, change, eat breakfast at the Main Street Café, then he’d write at the library until he was hungry for lunch. He was writing slower than he ever had in his career, but at least he was writing, averaging ten to fifteen pages a day. And Jolene was more than pleased with his progress.
Yesterday he’d reached page 120, and the first turn, or climax, was about to occur. Mason decided if he could get his usual fifteen pages written today, he’d do something to celebrate. Maybe go see a movie? He could watch movies as long as they weren’t in the same genre he was writing. He didn’t want to get ideas that would influence his current work in progress.
Driveway and walkway finished, Mason peeled off his gloves and hat in the house, changed his boots, then grabbed his gym bag. He climbed into his Jeep, shivering until the interior warmed up. He took the canyon road slowly. Even though the snowplows had made at least one pass this morning, the snow was coming down pretty good now.
By the time he pulled up to the rec center, he couldn’t even see the lines to park. Whoever had plowed the parking lot would have to make a return visit soon. Making his best estimate, he pulled into a space, then climbed out. The snow seemed to have kept quite a few people away, since the parking lot was about half its usual fullness.
He hurried inside and went straight to the track, which was a floor above the basketball gym. He wasn’t even tempted to join in any of the pickup games. His father had been his high school basketball coach, and he’d spent years of his life trying to make the old man happy. His father had since passed away now, but the tightening of Mason’s gut still happened whenever he was around the game.
Which was ironic, he knew, because he continued to write medical thrillers with athletes as central characters.
He ran for about an hour, then hit the weight room. It seemed things had picked up at the gym, and more than half the machines were being used. While he waited his turn for one of the machines, a tall man with blond hair struck up a conversation.
“I’ve seen you here a few times,” the man said. “Are you new to Pine Valley or on a long vacation?”
“I’m renting a cabin at the resort,” Mason said. “Working on a deadline.”
At the man’s interested expression, Mason added, “I’m a writer.”
“Oh? Who do you work for?” the man continued.
“Myself. I write novels.” Mason knew from experience that he’d get one of two reactions. The person would be impressed and ask a ton of questions. Or the person would politely say, “How interesting. I guess you have the easy job, chasing a muse all day.” Or something like that.
But this man did neither. “You must be Mason Rowe, then. I heard you were in town. I should have put two and two together.”
Who was talking about him? Mason wondered. His only personal interaction had been with the town librarian, but maybe that had been enough. Was she telling other people? Or maybe she was dating this guy too?
“I’m Dawson Harris,” the man said, sticking out his hand.
“Well, apparently you know who I am.” Mason shook his hand, keeping it brief, because they were in a gym. Sweating. Before he could ask Dawson Harris how he’d heard of him, Dawson spoke.
“If you need a lawyer again, then I’m your guy.” Dawson leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Read about that nasty lawsuit. If I’d been on the case, it wouldn’t have gone past the discovery stage.”
Mason couldn’t have been more surprised that this man knew about the lawsuit, and that he’d have the nerve to criticize the case. Mason moved back a few inches, marking his distance. “Who told you I was in Pine Valley?”
Dawson frowned, then his face relaxed. “Oh, it was Slade. I ran into him the other day—he’s Dr. McKinney now—and he asked me if I knew anything about your legal case. I didn’t, but I looked it up on the spot. Slade informed me that you were in town and said you’d helped out his girlfriend at the ski resort or something.”
Mason could only reply, “Yes.”
“I thought it was strange that he was so interested in some visitor to Pine Valley,” Dawson said. “Now that I see you, I can understand his concern.”
Mason blinked. “Concern?”
“Slade said his girlfriend is pretty much obsessed with you.” He shrugged. “Not in the stalker way—of course—but she’s always talking about your books, and how she can’t believe you’re writing your next book in her library. I guess it’s making Slade concerned.”
Mason had to clench his jaw to keep his mouth from falling open in astonishment. He’d talked to Livvy almost every day, but their conversations were brief, and she kept to her end of the library, and he kept to his. But... if Mason were to guess, Slade was the dramatic type. He seemed to enjoy extremes. Extreme hiking, ignoring his girlfriend to the extreme, and now asking other people in Pine Valley if they knew Mason.
Unbelievable. “How is Livvy’s interest in my work a concern to the doctor, or to you, for that matter?”
Dawson didn’t seem fazed by the question at all. In fact, he laughed. “Let’s just say that if you were about thirty years older and missing a couple of teeth, Slade would be sleeping better at night. As it is, Slade would prefer that you hold your writing sessions someplace other than the library. But if you ask me, stay right where you are. Slade needs a little competition. Livvy is way too beautiful and sassy to be strung along month after month.”
Mason really didn’t like Slade McKinney. Not when he’d first met him, and not now. According to this Dawson character, Livvy was being strung along. What exactly did that mean? Mason scrubbed a hand over his beard. “Next time you see the doc, tell him I’m happy to autograph a book for him any time. His girlfriend knows where to find me.” Mason turned and walked to the next open machine on the other side of the room.
Dawson didn’t follow him, and when Mason next looked up, the man had left the room.
Good. Mason didn’t need any small-town lawyer, or doctor, telling him what he could and couldn’t do.
Mason probably lifted a little longer than usual, and more weight than typical, which would make him plenty sore by the end of the day. But it felt good to work off the annoyance that was Dawson Harris—or more accurately, Slade McKinney. Doctor or not, the guy needed a wake-up call. Because no woman should ever be strung along, and Mason was determined to figure out what Dawson had meant.
No, Mason wouldn’t go so far as asking Livvy out on a date, but it wouldn’t hurt to flirt with her a little, would it? Give the doc a run for his money? Of course, Mason had been flirting with Livvy already—in a completely prosaic way. Both he and Livvy knew that she was a fan of his writing, and he didn’t mind some encouragement and a few compliments. Completely innocent.
Although Slade McKinney didn’t know that.
Mason found that he was smiling by the time he’d showered and dressed in the locker room. He happened to know that Livvy was working the morning shift today, so what would it hurt if he brought her breakfast? Friends did that, right? And what was wrong with him and Livvy becoming better friends?
When Mason reached the library, it was open, but only one car was in the parking lot. He assumed the red Honda Accord belonged to Livvy. He wasn’t surprised to see that her car was red. He grabbed the sack of muffins and bagels he’d bought since he didn’t know which she liked, then tucked his notebook under his arm and balanced two cups of hot coffee as he walked to the front doors.
He managed to open the heavy doors with a spare finger, then he walked through the lobby, ignoring the No Food, No Drinks Please sign.
Livvy looked up from the reference desk as he approached. She smiled as their gazes met, then lines appeared between her brows when she noticed that he was carrying food.
“Don’t kick me out before you hear what I’ve come to say,” Mason said.
She folded her arms and tilted her head. “All right.” She wore a long-sleeved, black V-neck shirt that made her hair look even darker and her eyes almost black. Her curly hair was piled on top of her head in a sort of messy bun, and she wore long, dangling silver earrings.
And she smelled... great. Like cinnamon and sugar. Or maybe that was the breakfast. He set the sack on the counter that separated him from her.
“They had a two-for-one deal at the café,” he said, “so I thought I’d bring you breakfast.”
She rested her hands on the counter and leaned forward to peer into the bag he’d opened. Yep. She smelled great.
“Oooh, I love the blueberry muffins.”
“Perfect, because that’s exactly what I got for you.” Mason pulled the muffin out of the sack and set it on a napkin.
“Sure you did.” Livvy smiled and slid the napkin toward her. “You know, this is breaking all kinds of rules.”
“I know.” He winked. “Coffee?”
“Yes, thanks,” she said. “I didn’t sleep too great last night, and I’ll start to feel it soon.”
“Up reading all night?” Mason teased.
“Not exactly,” she said, then shrugged. “I think I’m just excited for tonight?”
Mason lifted his brows and waited.
“I’m going on a date with Slade.”
“Ah.” Mason tried not to reveal the stab of disappointment he felt. “You must really like this guy to lose sleep over a date.”
She looked away and didn’t say anything.
This confused him. Shouldn’t she be gushing over her doctor-boyfriend? “Unless you’re... dreading it?”
Her gaze snapped to his, her eyes wide. “I’m not dreading it. I mean, Slade has asked me out more than usual since... since, ever.”
Mason studied her brown eyes, her pert nose, the dusty pink of her lips, that freckle. “More than usual. What does that mean?”
“Well, we used to go out every couple of weeks,” she said in a slow tone. “Because of his schedule, you know, being a doctor and all.”
He knew.
“But after that day hiking, where I ran into you, he started calling and texting every day,” she said. “He’s been really sweet, I suppose, but I’m not used to all the attention. In fact, I used to complain to my friend Felicity about not spending enough time with him.”
“And now it’s too much?” Mason surmised.
She looked down at her coffee cup. “Not too much. I mean, he’s my boyfriend, and there’s no such thing as too much.”
Mason didn’t say anything for a moment. “Maybe he finally realized what he’s got.”
Her brown eyes studied him. “I’d like to think that, but I don’t feel that.”
Mason leaned against the counter, which brought him a few inches closer to her. “Maybe... he’s making sure you’re staying busy. Did you ever think of that?”
She blinked. “You mean he’s doing more stuff with me so that I don’t do other stuff?”
“Yeah.”
“What would the other stuff be?” she said. “I’m a boring person. I work at a library all day, and I have like three friends.”
“Three?”
“Mallory, Felicity, and . . .” She stared at him innocently.
“Me?”
She laughed. “Sure, why not?”
Mason smiled. “I’m glad I’m your friend, but I’m also a bit worried about what that might entail.”
Her brows darted upward. “Why’s that?”
“I think your boyfriend is territorial, and I can’t say I blame him,” Mason said. “His buddy Dawson Harris talked to me this morning at the gym. And let’s just say it wasn’t a friendly conversation.”
“Wow.” Livvy folded her arms. “Slade’s asked a lot of questions about you, and he thinks it’s strange that you’re at the library so much when you have an entire cabin to yourself. I tried to explain how the muse works, and even though I’m not a writer, I sort of get it.”
So it was Slade who was garnering information from Livvy, and not her telling Slade all about Mason. “I think my first impression of your doctor still stands.”
Livvy sighed. “Slade is an amazing guy, but I don’t know what’s got into him. Felicity thinks he jealous, but that doesn’t make sense. I mean, there’s nothing going on between you and me, so there’s nothing for Slade to worry about.”
Mason looked down at the cup of coffee on the counter, then back up at her. “I don’t want to get in the middle of your relationship, but why does it take the attentions of another man to get your boyfriend to spend more time with you?” By the look on her face, Mason knew he’d gone too far. But it was too late to take it back now.
Livvy dropped her arms and rested her hands on the counter. “That’s what I was wondering too.”