Page 73 of In Hiding

13.

Through the big glass windows of his office, Erik watched the snow fall. It was almost mesmerizing the way it swirled in the wind. Like it had a mind of its own, as if it had any choice as to which car to settle on. So far, the only car in the lot still visible through the snow was the big Ram 150. The thing was enormous but popular. Maybe because it was the only one that customers could see, he didn’t know, but he had come to dread digging it out for its next test drive.

Business had been surprisingly active, despite the constant snow fall. In the week that he’d been in town, he’d managed more sales and trade-ins than he could have guessed for such a small population. Damien hadn’t been wrong. The district sorely needed a source of new vehicles, especially given the vintage of the ones traded in.

Most of them were destined for the scrap yard. For half of them, he’d only covered the cost of vehicle registration, and for the other half, he’d offered meagre deals, but clients drove away happy enough. Their country-folk demeanor had meant business had been pleasant, more satisfying than a used car dealer should ever expect.

Across the yard, he spied a figure moving between the dormant cars. Dressed in a thick parka with its hood up, the tall man closed in on the glass door of the showroom. Erik couldn’t make out the visitor’s identity and his heart rate crawled to a snail’s pace in anticipation.

The door swung inward and the hooded man stepped in, shaking off a layer of snow before flipping his hood off. Blond shaggy hair topped a face he’d come to know well over the last few days. Erik smiled and came out from behind the counter.

“Magnus. What brings you by?”

A grin brightened the showroom. “Slow morning?”

“A little, though it’s been a busy week.”

Magnus chuckled. “I’ve heard. There’s a lot of talk about you around town. You’re making quite the impression.”

It’d be a miracle if Sarah hadn’t heard about him yet. “Good, I hope?”

“For sure. How are the accommodations?”

Erik thought to the cramped, musty room he leased at the pub and nodded. “Suitable.” It was better than a prison cell—anything was.

Magnus let out a hearty laugh. “Liar. I’ve rented a room there before and they are shit. You can’t think to stay there long-term.”

Erik shrugged. He didn’t know what to think. Staying in the rural town indefinitely hadn’t crossed his mind. Sarah was his focus, and he couldn’t make that decision until she was safe. “It’ll do.”

“No.” Magnus shook his head. “It won’t. I bet you don’t even fit in the bed?”

Now that was true. He laughed. “I don’t think they had Vikings in mind when they set up those rooms, no.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

Erik blinked. Wait. What was settled? “Pardon?”

“You’ll move in to my spare room.”

He raised a hand and shook his head. “Thank you, but no. I couldn’t impose.”

Magnus sighed and stared at him in exasperation. “I refuse to let you stay at the pub any longer. Look, if not my place, then take a cottage at the Sanctuary. Hollywood won’t mind.”

“The Sanctuary? Who’s Hollywood?”

---