Page 57 of Ten Hammers

Our phones light up in unison as we’re sharing the last bites of a sumptuous Crème Brûlée.

Gavin checks his phone and frowns. “It’s Jack. The storm’s getting worse. Roads are flooded. He says if we don’t leave soon we might not make it. “

I read the text on my phone, from Max, and it echoes the same news.

“A bridge washed out nearby. We’ll have to leave via the north side, if the roads are still open.”

But Gav shakes his head. “We can’t risk driving back in this weather. It’s too dangerous. We’re stuck in Ashbourne.”

I flash him a worried look but Gavin’s expression doesn’t match. In fact, there’s the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s almost like you planned this.” I say, narrowing my eyes.

He laughs. “I did. I thought a freak flood washing a bridge away would be a nice touch, so I hired the storm.”

Chapter 21

Winnie

“Uh,” I say as Gavin pulls into the parking lot of the nearest available inn and our headlights illuminate the building. “Are we sure this is the right place?”

I squint as though that’ll help me see better, through the darkness and steady rain sluicing over the windshield. The scene in front of me is blurred and distorted, so maybe it’s not as bad as it looks. Still, it does not match the charming pictures I googled. Perhaps it did twenty years ago…?

Gav whistles under his breath. “Pooh Bear, I think our rom-com might be turning into a horror flick.”

I laugh, even though he might not be joking. “This does look like the kind of place people go to get chopped up.”

Paint peels from all sides of the compact Victorian house. The wooden boards of the porch look termite-chewed. Inside, soft warm lights radiate a welcoming glow, but even from the car, I can see the curtains in the windows are faded and ragged.

He reaches over and pushes some hair behind my ear, his fingertips grazing my earlobe. The gesture is innocent but I still shiver. “I solemnly swear I’ll protect you from the ax murderers.”

“Very chivalrous, but what if they chop you up first?” I joke.

“We could just ride the storm out in the car, I guess?”

That would work if I didn’t have to pee. And the steady downpour is not helping.

“Um, I think I drank too much wine with dinner to do that.”

“Gotcha.” He pulls into a space as close to the door as he can get and shuts off the engine. There are plenty of other cars around, at least.

“Okay.” He twists, reaching between his seat and mine, rummaging in the back seat. “Fuck. I know I don’t have an umbrella but I was hoping there was something you could put over your head so you won’t get wet.”

I giggle. “Gav. This won’t be the first time a Hammer brother has gotten me wet, I promise. Hell, this won’t be the first time you’ve gotten me wet.”

He closes his eyes for a second, ruefully shakes his head. “Damn, woman, forget ax murderers. You’re going to kill me, looking at me like that… saying things like that.” Then he looks at me again. “So… you still wanna get a room?”

“Definitely.”

We decide to make a run for the covered porch, and hope we don’t fall through the wood before we reach the door. He comes around to my side of the car, which means he’s drenched by the time I get out, and together we race to the porch.

I’m soaked to the bone and my teeth are already chattering.

Thank God the door is unlocked. He ushers me inside.

A wave of warmth envelopes us, emanating from the crackling fireplace, but it isn’t particularly cozy, not when all the furniture is frayed and the smell of the room reminds me of a carpeted diner that still has a smoking section.

I finally noticed the strange woman staring at us from behind the front desk. She has mismatched eyes and a weird blend of Victorian and modern attire, with a frilly collared button up shirt under a zip-up hoodie.

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