Page 4 of The Marrying Kind
Wow. He was even better looking up close. And he smelled really good. Like pine needles and soap. I wanted to lean in and sniff him, but thankfully, I resisted.
“You’re new here,” he said.
I nodded and gave him a weird little wave, like I suddenly had no idea what to do with my hands.Fantastic. “I’m Ella.”
“Austen Hart. It’s nice to meet you.”
CJ cleared her throat. “She’s looking for a place to stay. Are any of those cabins ready yet?”
Austen’s dark eyebrows rose, and he adjusted the ball cap on his head. “Not yet. They’re close, but none of them are ready to be inhabited. No running water or anything.”
While he and CJ spoke, it gave me a moment to really take him in. He was more thancute. He towered over me at well over six feet, and his shoulders were broad and muscular. He had a five o’clock shadow dusting his jaw, and bright, intelligent eyes. He looked ...normal. Kind, even. And he’d kept me from falling on my ass.
“How long were you planning to stay?” Austen asked.
It took me a second to realize those words were meant for me.
“Just a few weeks.”
Enough time to explore. Not so much time that I’d get bored.Or attached to anyone. He didn’t need to know any more than that.
“You don’t have anywhere to be over Christmas?”
I guessed he was realizing that Christmas was only nine days away, because those dark brows were pushing together again as he studied me.
“No.” I didn’t elaborate.
“No family?” He sounded genuinely perplexed.
I shook my head, not ready to get into the entire saga right now with a virtual stranger.
CJ was also totally still listening to us, even though she pretended to be wiping down glasses at the drink station.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and relief flooded through me.Samantha.
“Excuse me for just a minute,” I said to him.
He nodded for me to go ahead and gave me some space while I paced in front of the bar, listening while Samantha apologized again and again, confirming what I already suspected. There were no other rooms for rent in town, especially not this close to the holidays.
I placed my phone back in my pocket and drew in a fortifying breath.
CJ gave me a hopeful look. “Well?”
Austen seemed to wait for my answer too.
“I guess I will stay for dinner, after all. The brisket sandwich is good, I think you said?”
She smiled at me. “I didn’t say it wasgood. I said it wasn’t half bad.”
Austen nodded in agreement. “She’s not lying.”
“Okay, well.” I shrugged. “One brisket sandwich. A side of fries with mustard, please, and an iced tea.”
CJ shot me a curious look.
“What?” I asked.
She lifted one shoulder. “Austen is the only person I know who dips their fries in mustard.” She suppressed a full-body shudder.
