Page 1 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

Chapter 1

Ilove weddings.

I adore them, actually.

I lovethiswedding. I love my best friend like a sister. And I’ve even grown to like Mariana’s fiancé, Terry, though I still preferred to call him Mr. Pinecone. Probably because I’ll never forget the ridiculous costume he was wearing when we met.

I mean, herhusband. Mariana was no longer engaged. She was married. Wedded. Stuck with Terry forever.

But as she took a sip of champagne and flashed a brilliant smile at the love of her life, I knew that “stuck” was the furthest thing from her mind. She’d never looked more beautiful, and it wasn’t only because of her shimmery white strapless dress or the sparkly yet classy jewels she wore. It was because she’d found the one. Between Mari and me, I’d always been the romantic, and she teased me about my obsession with rom-com movies and Valentine’s Day.

But to see her now ... she was happy. Deliriously so.

And I … well, I was happy for her—happymy best friend was finally living her life with joy and love and all the things denied to her for so long. Happy she was married on Christmas Eve, her favorite day in the world.

I was happy for her. Truly.

But you’re not happy.

I flinched at the unbidden thought and quickly downed the rest of my champagne.

I scanned the scene before us. The wedding party was small, so it was just the four of us at the head table in the reception hall. However, the guests numbered in the hundreds. One would expect a highly private person like Mari to insist on a small wedding. But she wanted to invite all her staff at the resort, and Terry knew everyone in town, so basically everyone in our little town of Shipsvold was present. I made eye contact with Nora, who was not only Terry’s grandmother but also one of my favorite people. She winked, and once again, I arranged my features in what I hoped was a genuine smile before my eyes continued sweeping the cavernous room.

Still, it was lonely up here. And I was thirsty.

“Hey, Mari,” I said while patting her bare shoulder gently. “I’ll be right back, OK?”

With her hand still holding Terry’s on the table, she turned her head toward me, offering a wide smile that slid right off her face when she eyed me. “Is everything OK, Haz?”

Since when was Mari so good at reading people? Maybe she had always been good at this. I was usually easy to read. Usually happy. Laid back. Taking life a day at a time. That’s me. Easygoing Hazel.

But I only laughed. “It’s not OK. It’swonderful. I’m just thirsty.”

Her eyebrows rose ever so slightly, and she stared into my eyes for a moment. “All right,” she said slowly, watching as I placed my napkin on the table and stood up.

I gave her a wide smile before turning toward the bar, and my face fell.

Ugh, not that guy.

Standing at the bar was the impeccably groomed—and, I have to admit, hot as hell—man I’d walked down the aisle with earlier today. I’d been introduced to Peter Auclair last night when he flew in for the wedding rehearsal, but he’d not spoken a word to me after that initial “Nice to meet you, Ms. Tanaka-Katz.” My nervous chatter and laughs just before the ceremony were met with a tight jaw and a blank stare. I even felt his biceps tense up when we linked arms down the aisle.

I sauntered up to the bar and pulled out the bar stool nearest to him. After carefully arranging the flowy layers of my pale green bridesmaid dress in front of me, I sat down. He stilled but didn’t turn to look at me.

“What can I get you, ma’am?”

I tried not to glare at the barely-legal kid who just ma’am-ed me. Was he even old enough to tend bar? “Uh, yeah, I’d like some more champ—actually, you know what? I’d like a shot. Maybe a few. Do you have any of those fruit-flavored vodkas?

The kid nodded, pointing behind him to his left. I scanned the shelf. “Oh, is that purple one grape? I want that.”

“Purple vodka, coming right up,” he said, spinning around to make my shot.

I stole a glance at the silent man next to me and opened my mouth to speak, but then the kid was back already with a shot glass of my favorite drink.

I downed it quickly and pointed at the empty glass before looking at the boy. “Keep them coming, please.”

The kid gave me a side-eye glance but poured another.

I decided to just sip this one. Yes, drunken oblivion sounded appealing right about now, but I doubt Mari would be happy if I returned to her table smashed.

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