Page 67 of Love Under Snowfall

No, it absolutely would not. But Frankie’s two best—and most meddling—friends didn’t need to know the whole story. She sniffed and flipped through the nail color swatches on her lap. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know.”

Todd and the bride-to-be exchanged an irritatingly knowing look and sighed in unison.

“Fine, have it your way.” Lucy shrugged.

Frankie settled back in her chair, noting her back muscles were sore all over again. She didn’t want to think about Benjamin, let alone discuss what they’d shared in the cabin a few days ago. Eventually, she’d fill those two nosy Nellies in on the details, but not while everything felt so raw and tender. For now, her focus was needed elsewhere—namely, the rehearsal dinner later that night then the wedding the following evening. As maid of honor, her job was to attend to anything the blushing bride needed, and she wasn’t going to let a little drama get in the way of her brother’s happiness.

Chapter thirty-seven

Benjamin

Benjamin followed Johnny up the rickety steps to The Rooftop Tavern on the edge of town. The old establishment was just as his friend had described while recounting numerous stories from youth to adulthood: walls loaded with photos of surrounding landmarks and adventurers who’d summited, rafted, or climbed them. Various antique snowshoes, backpacks, trekking poles, and lanterns adorned the shelves above and around the bar, which housed an impressive array of liquors. Twinkly, festive lights and bits of greenery framed each window and doorway. An updated version of “Jingle Bell Rock” played gently over the speakers.

The smell of warm, dry wood sent flashes of a cozy little cabin tumbling through his mind.

Last night was a mistake, Francesca.

A quick ‘you’d better enjoy this fuck, sweetheart, cuz it’s the only one you’re gonna get’ would have been nice.

He couldn’t keep going there, bringing himself to the brink of madness by replaying the hurt he caused over and over. She’d encircled herself in armor so quickly that the shift had given Benjamin whiplash. So easily she’d pretended that what happened between them had been meaningless.

But it wasn’t.

And it was killing him to play along with the façade.

He hadn’t seen Francesca since she wrapped herself around SheriffBeefcake two days ago. What he couldn’t determine was if she’d meant for the display to induce jealousy—which it had—or if it was for her own comfort. Neither was preferred, and it took everything in him not to bang on her neighboring hotel room door and ensure the living action figure wasn’t warming her bed. Touching her. Kissing what Benjamin had so recently kissed.

The rehearsal dinner would be starting in a few minutes. An affair considerably smaller and more casual than the fancy welcome dinner Jonathan’s mother, Patty, had insisted upon in order to “set the tone” for the week. While a more intimate gathering was typically preferred, Benjamin had reservations about there being fewer people to run interference between him and Francesca.

“Beer or scotch?”

His friend’s glittering amber eyes—so similar tohers—skimmed over Benjamin’s face, likely noticing the distressed clench of his jaw. Willing his expression to soften, he said, “I’ll have what you’re having.”

Jonathan held up two fingers to the bartender, who nodded, returning with a couple bottles of Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA. They clinked and drank. The strong, hoppy flavor was comforting in a familiar way. While it had been a regular in the rotation of libations he and Johnny enjoyed back in their college years, he hadn’t had one since his friend had moved back to Leavenworth. It felt so long ago.

It had been so long ago.

“It’s great to have you here, Benji.” His friend settled a heavy hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Not to sound too sappy, but I’ve really missed you.”

Shame nipped at Benjamin’s chest.

“I’m sorry I haven’t made it out here sooner.”

“Hey, you don’t owe me an explanation,” Johnny soothed,brows pulling together.

“I feel like I do, though. I haven’t been there for you in so long. Why,” Benjamin’s voice caught a little in his throat. He threw back a swig of beer to steady his emotions. “Why did you even ask me to be your best man? I’m glad you did, but surely there's someone who deserves it more.”

Benjamin had played it over and over again in his mind. But no matter how he reconfigured it, it just didn’t make sense that Johnny would have chosen an absentfriendto stand beside him at the altar.

Johnny’s face morphed into a knowing smile—a very fatherly gesture. Golden eyes scanned the darkness that shrouded Benjamin’s face. He’d always been able to do that, see into others, deduce what they were worried about or dwelling on without having to be told. Johnny had some serious people-reading talents. An impressive party trick in the past. Currently, Benjamin found it unsettling. What if his friend figured out how he’d behaved with Francesca? Would he be as reassuring if he knew how his sister had been used and discarded with little concern?

“I’ll be honest,” Johnny said as he shrugged, “I almost didn’t ask you.”

The admission burned but wasn’t surprising. “What changed your mind?”

“Not what. Who. Lucy convinced me to reach out.”

“Really? Your bride doesn’t even know me.”

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