Chapters (35)
- The Wedding Setup
- Praise for Charlotte Greene
- By the Author
- Acknowledgments
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Epilogue
- About the Author
- Books Available From Bold Strokes Books
- BOLDSTROKESBOOKS.COM
“Love Lodge? Lover’s Hideaway? Something like that? I’m sorry. I can’t quite remember the name. I know it’s downtown, anyway.”
“You probably mean the Love Inn.”
She snapped her fingers. “That’s it—yes, the Love Inn. You guys really go all in for this Valentine’s stuff, huh?”
He laughed. “Heck yes, we do. It’s our busiest time of year.” He winked and turned forward, slowly easing the cab onto the icy, snowy road that led out of the depot.
All of the light and telephone poles were festooned in twinkle lights and red garland, and every pole they passed had at least one enormously large wooden heart attached to it with names and messages from people, conversation-heart style. They were soon driving a little too fast to read most of them, but she saw messages of love and friendship, clearly personalized. “Ken Loves Jo.” “Alice Loves Her Kitty.” “Carl + Rhonda 4EVR.”
“Looking at the hearts?” the driver said, pointing. “Anyone can have one of those commissioned in December or January, and they’re different every year. It used to just be a local thing, but now we get people from all over the world asking for them. Then they can show pictures of their heart to their sweetie, or they can bring their loved one here and show it to them on Valentine’s Day. Lots of engagements begin in front of those hearts, I can tell ya.”
“It’s a really cute idea,” she said, smiling with something like genuine warmth for the first time in days. “Someone must make a fortune.”
“It’s a charity that does it, actually, but yeah, they really sweep up this time of year.”
The drive wasn’t long—some ten minutes, give or take. Once they passed the usual stretch of strip malls and car dealerships near the highway, the town was revealed, cute and unassuming, a charming mix of small, local businesses and early twentieth-century Craftsman homes with an occasional Victorian here and there for flavor. The entire town was done up for the upcoming holiday in varying levels of success—tacky here, cute there. Still, with the snow, the red-and-white decorations stood out in pretty contrast.