Page 25 of The Mistletoe Makeover

Based on the state of this decrepit motel, my life has become a Stephen King novel.I don’t even have a clean pair of underwear with me.

“Humph,” I mutter as we trudge through the snow to our motel room. I can’t feel my toes, and Jace won’t have any sympathy for me anyway, so I bite my cheek and pretend my feet are not painful blocks of ice.

“Here we are,” he says, swinging the door open to a dark, musty-smelling room. “Welcome to paradise.”

I step inside and take in the room.

Paradiseis a stretch. The sagging bed is topped with a faded blue bedspread that looks like it’s thirty years old. The wallpaper is peeling at the corners, and the carpet is so worn, it’s duct-taped to the floor like a patchwork quilt. The lone table is leaning precariously to the left, and the single wooden chair looks like they rescued it from a trash pile.

“Wow. Nice,” I say in a monotone voice.This is where I’m going to take my last breath.

“Doesn’t sound like you approve,” Jace remarks dryly.

“I’m pretty certain this room was a crime scene once.Maybe we should check some true crime podcasts and see ifPine Paradisecomes up?”

“Don’t you think the motel would’ve changed their name?”

“I’m pretty sure Edith wouldn’t care a hill of beans about whether we froze in the storm or died in our sleep. Why would she bother telling us we’re sleeping in a room where a murder happened?”

Jace laughs, and the sound of it rings through my body.I made Jace Knight laugh.That knowledge is unexpectedly sublime, even though our circumstances are not.

Ever since we first met, getting him to smile has been nearly impossible. No wonder people call him theDark Knight.This isn’t an act; he’s serious in real life too, although I’m one of the few with an inside glimpse.Because of that, his laugh is like a rare coin I’m tucking away for keeps.

I sink onto the bed and strip off my boots again. We still haven’t figured out how we’re going to survive tonight, but right now, I just want to feel my toes again.

“Do you want me to call more tow trucks?” I offer, hoping someone can rescue us before we have to decide who gets the bed.

“I doubt we’re going anywhere tonight.” Jace flops down in a tired-looking chair, looking just as exhausted as this room. He pulls a snack from his pocket—a bright yellow bag of dried onion rings. “I grabbed the last package from the vending machine. You want some?”

I wrinkle my nose. “I detest onions. But I have two granola bars.”

“Keep them,” he says. “I’m scared to see what Edith might offer us for breakfast.”

“Probably small children that she’s fattened up on bread crumbs like the witch inHansel and Gretel.”

Jace’s mouth quirks at my dark humor. “Um, okay. Not the direction I was going.” He tosses a dried onion ring in his mouth.

“How are they?”

“Underwhelming. But right now, my stomach doesn’t care.” He dumps a handful on the table and keeps eating.

“At least we have coffee.” I motion toward the cheap-looking coffee maker sitting next to the TV.

“You’re going to need a strong stomach to drink Edith’s coffee. No fancy drinks here.”

“How did you know I was a coffee snob?”

“The overpowering scent of hazelnut wafting from your travel cup.”

I shrug, trying to prove I can handle this rotten situation. “This motel won’t break me. But what I wouldn’t give for a Reese’s Cup right now.”

“I don’t have chocolate, but you can take the bed tonight,” he says, propping his feet on the bedspread and leaning back in his chair.

That’s when it hits me:I’m sharing this room with Jace Knight.I can’t take the bed. I forced him into this trip. The least I can do is let him have the only comfortable place to sleep.

“I’ll be fine on the floor.” I rub my feet as my toes throb painfully.

“That’s the same thing you said about those boots.” He gazes at me with an amused look.

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