Page 9 of Scotch & Shortbread

Quinn was ready to head back too; her muscles were trembling from the exertion of the climb. Technically, the descent was supposed to be the easier part but, her leg muscles quivered in protest as the women began their trek down.

“I heard the weather is supposed to change in a couple of days. Calen is supposed to get a record-breaking snowstorm, and the temps are set to plummet,” Meg said as they began their descent.

“Really?” Quinn hadn’t paid much attention to the weather forecast here, but it didn’t matter to her because she intended to work on her novel over Christmas anyway.

“You sure you don’t wanna come back to my place for the holidays?” Megs nudged her.

With a father she never knew and a mother who passed away when Quinn was a teen, she had spent most holidays alone—aside from some time with her grandmother. She had grown rather accustomed to it. Sometimes, her heart longed for a big family Christmas, and she wondered if she’d ever know one. But for the most part, Quinn was content with her own company, even over the holidays.

Quinn looped her arm through Megan's. “I’d love to, but honestly,” she paused taking in a deep breath of fresh mountain air, “I think I need this. I need to have some time with myself. And with my book. This is a new chapter for me. A new adventure. And I’m kind of excited about being in this snowy mountain town for Christmas.”

Despite having the gift of gab, Quinn preferred quiet solitude and her own company. There was something so cathartic about being alone with her thoughts. Not that she didn’t also love being with her friends, but she was excited to have some time to really dig into her book. This little mountain town was already filling her with inspiration.

“But what fun will it be if you have to be stuck inside the whole time because it’s too frickin' cold and snowy?” Belle asked.

Ironically, the thought appealed to Quinn. She could be a total introvert, keep her jammies on, order room service—or maybe stock up at the grocery store, she amended, keeping her budget in mind—and write. “It will give me the time I need to dig into my writing. Besides, the inn has a restaurant, and I spied a yoga studio nearby. I’ll have everything I need.”

“Well, you won’t be getting to that yoga studio if the weather gets as bad as they say,” Meg said skeptically.

“I’ll do yoga in my room then. It’ll be fine.” Quinn wasn't worried in the least.

Belle and Megan didn’t look convinced. “But it’s Christmas! You shouldn’t be alone for Christmas.” Belle frowned as if she were a child, who just discovered a lump of coal in their stocking. “Christmas is a time to be with friends and family,” she argued.

Quinn stopped on the trail and smiled adoringly at the two women. “And I’m grateful to be with you both now. Honestly, girls, I’m happy to have some time with just me and my book. I’ll order Christmas room service and spend the day with my characters. You know how I am.” She laughed. Being stuck in this mountain town while it snowed and having nowhere to be but in her room writing her first novel, sounded dreamy to Quinn.

Belle and Meg looked at her as if she was nuts. Quinn chuckled. “Aww, girls, it’s where I want to be. Truly. But I promise we’ll meet up again soon in the new year.”

Neither of them looked convinced, but thankfully, they let it go. Quinn was grateful the cop hadn’t come up in conversation again. Although she found her thoughts turning to him anyway. He’d crossed her mind more than a few times throughout the day. She wondered why he’d given her such a hard time with the ticket and when they saw him again last night. It galled her how he’d been so jovial and pleasant until his attention turned to her. Maybe she had started it last night, but still, he didn’t have to be so cold towards her.

It was the contradiction that gnawed at her. Cold hardened cop when it came to her but warm and sweet as fresh-out-of-the-oven gingerbread cookies with her friends. It annoyed her mostly cause that soft side she glimpsed was even more lethal than his dangerous cop side. That smile of his… Her belly fluttered at the memory. She knew it would be good, but it was far better than she imagined. Her friends were right—he was dreamy, at least when he smiled. Not that he’d directed that smile at her. The man was a puzzle, and she wished her curious mind didn’t thrive on solving them.

7

The Purple Deer

“Shit,”Megmoanedasshe bent to slide on her black pleather pants. “My ass. God, and my quads,” She struggled to wrangle her pants up her legs.

“Right?” Belle quipped as she straightened her chin length glossy black hair. “I hope we don’t die tonight trying to dance at a bar.”

Quinn stared down at the high heel shoes she’d just pulled from her case and contemplated whether or not she could handle the torture on her already fried leg muscles. Finally having succeeded in getting her pants on, Meg sidled up to Quinn and looked down at the strappy sexy shoes. “Do it. Once we get a couple of shots in us, we’ll be golden.”

“Right, good point.” Quinn laughed.

“I can’t believe it’s our last night together already,” Belle said forlornly as she put on her signature Charlotte Tilbury glossy red lipstick.

“Yeah, but we’re gonna have a blast tonight, find some cute guys, have some shots, and dance… Maybe not all in that order.” Meg laughed. “But it’s gonna be epic. I can feel it.”

Belle and Quinn gave each other a knowing look. Megs always thought a night out at the bar was “epic.” In fairness, the girls did always have a great time when they went out and partied.

“There are only three bars in this town, so let’s hope there is life in at least one of them,” Meg said as she turned on her heel and strode back out of the first bar as fast as she’d gone in.

The next bar they went to looked like an old saloon aside from the neon sign above the door that read, The Purple Deer. Judging by the packed parking lot it appeared as if the entire town might be in it.

“This is more like it,” Meg announced as they walked in. There was a live band playing and they had the dance floor filled. The place was buzzing with atmosphere.

The three women manoeuvred their way through the crowds of partygoers to the bar. Drinks were the first order of priority.

“Ladies, ladies, you’re just in time!” A ruggedly cute guy in a plaid button-up shirt—who’d clearly already had a few—was standing at the bar with a pile of shots lined up in front of him. Megs, not missing a beat, sidled up beside him.

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