Page 8 of Slow Kind of Love

Chapter Three

Rose managed to contain herself and didn’t ask about Elise until they were back at his place. She’d been quizzical, but not overly so, and because she was distracted, or maybe jetlagged, he easily deflected with a question of his own. He’d asked how long she planned on staying in Crystal Lake.

Rose had shown up at his door Thursday evening and announced she’d broken up with her boyfriend and needed a change of scenery.

“I don’t know how long I’ll stay. I’ll play it by ear, I suppose ,if that’s okay?”

“Fine by me.”

“I know what you’re doing, by the way, and it won’t work.”

“And what’s that exactly?” he’d asked, regretting the question as soon as it fell from his mouth.

“You don’t want to tell me about the woman at the pub.”

“The Blue Elephant isn’t a pub.”

“The Blue what?” Her forehead furrowed, and she cocked her head to the side in such a way, he knew she wouldn’t let it rest.

“Elise is someone from town.” He gave her a look. “And that’s the end of it.”

“Elise.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Pretty name.”

“I believe I said I wasn’t talking about her.”

“You said it was the end of it. Bit of a difference there.”

But it wasn’t. Not for Link, anyway. He’d tossed and turned all night, had a shit sleep because he couldn’t stop thinking of how Elise had blown past him as if they were polite friends. As if they weren’t involved. As if whatever it was they were doing was over.

Burned his ass was what it did. He frowned into the dark and rolled out of bed.

It was early Saturday morning. He flicked on the outside light, and a peek through the window told him only an inch or so of snow had fallen since the day before. The dog was fast asleep on his bed, and he was sure the old guy would be happier left there in dreamland than dragged out into the cold for a run. He pulled on warm clothes, popped in his earbuds, and headed outside. It was dark, but he’d done this run enough times he had no problem following the path through the trees that circled the lake. By the time he reached the other side, beams of light were just breaking open the midnight blue sky.

He paused, breathing heavily, gaze on the path behind him. Link took a few moments and rolled his head and shoulders and slowly exhaled. He stretched out his right leg and, before he could change his mind, started off in the opposite direction he’d come, which led to town. It meant another solid hour of running, but he couldn’t go home just yet.

Home meant Rose and her endless questions. Questions he didn’t want to answer because he didn’t want to think about Elise Avery.

He put her out of his mind and picked up the pace.

Link got to Crystal Lake just after eight a.m. The sleepy town was just waking up as he nodded to the few souls out in the cold weather, running errands or walking their dogs. Folks around these parts liked the snow more than anyone on the planet, and he knew by noon the town center would be hopping.

He dropped to a walk once he hit the path that meandered through the park and eventually found himself standing in front of Bella & Hooch, his pal Poppy’s store. It didn’t open until nine, and he was pretty sure she didn’t work Saturdays anymore, but he stopped all the same and peered through the glass front, trying to see inside. He spied movement and stood back when Poppy appeared with a big smile as she unlocked and let him in.

“Hey,” she said, standing on her tiptoes so she could kiss his cheek. “I should be mad that it’s taken you almost a week to come see me.”

“Sorry,” he replied, moving toward the back of the store. “I did leave a message two days ago…” At her obvious confusion, he shrugged. “I’m here now?”

She made a face, but pushed past him. “I just made some fresh coffee, but I can put on the kettle.”

“Got any Gatorade?”

Link followed her to the back kitchenette and leaned against the counter while she grabbed her coffee mug, the black one that said DAMN, and tossed in four scoops of sugar along with a big drop of cream. She rummaged through the small fridge and pulled out a pink Gatorade, which he downed in one try. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he glanced at his friend. She wore a simple black sweater and jeans tucked into brown leather boots. Her auburn hair was loose past her shoulders, and she’d donned a jaunty black bowler hat to finish the ensemble, along with several gold bangles that jangled when she moved.

“I missed you,” he said. She was his closest friend.

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