I sit up and hang my feet over the edge of the bed as I look out the bedroom door and see the rest of the cabin is perfectly empty.

“What the hell?”

Did last night happen?

Did Saint come here and was that toe-curling sex real?

I go to stand and feel a soreness between my thighs that says, yes, it was real.

Then why did he . . .

But I get it.

I do.

Saint made things easier on me by making sure to be gone when I woke up. To help avoid that awkwardness that comes with regretting a decision you made the night before. To, in a sense, avoid the walk of shame.

One-night stands aren’t my typical MO, but in this situation, what did I expect? It’s not like I’m going to move to this merry wonderland of a town.

It’s not like I have any intention of ever coming back.

I sit back down on the edge of the bed and laugh. It’s long and loud and slightly hysterical, but who knew a little detour could give me this? A clear plotline and the good sex I so desperately needed.

“Who knew?” I mutter and then laugh again.

11

Saint

I watch her from the window and every part of me wants to go out there and carry that suitcase for her.

Last night comes back to me and I groan. Fucking perfection in every sense of the word. Except for now when I’d prefer to ask her to stay and . . .

“And what, Saint? Live here? Get to know her better? It was one fucking night. Get over yourself.”

I take a sip of my coffee and shake my head as she turns the corner so I can’t see her anymore.

My sigh is heavy.

Why do I live in this town?

Why am I burdened with being a Nick, born and tasked to keep Saint Nick’s Hollow running?

But I know why.

I love my life. I love this town.

And maybe one day . . . she’ll come back again.

12

Harley

I still did the walk of shame.

I crept past Saint’s door even though every part of me wanted to knock and say goodbye. But that would have been awkward. That would have made things messy.

So instead, I snuck off after leaving some cash for the room in the kitchenette and a business card with my contact info should I owe any more.

But that’s a lie.

I know I don’t owe any more money as I left more than enough for the food and place to stay.

I simply wanted him to have my number in case . . . I don’t know why.

And here I sit in my car as the engine warms and the defroster clears the windshield, telling myself to put the car in reverse and leave this unexpected little venture.