UNTIL WINTER BREAKS
Book Two of the
Redwood Bay Romance Series
by Elana Johnson
Copyright © 2017 by Elana Johnson.
All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio, television or online reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Publisher.
Published in the United States by Cleis Press, an imprint of Start Midnight, LLC, 101 Hudson Street, Thirty-Seventh Floor, Jersey City, New Jersey 07302.
Printed in the United States.
Cover design: Scott Idleman/Blink
Cover photograph: iStock Photo
First Edition.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62778-187-9
Chapter One
Jared Newton crossed the Redwood Bay city limits and his chest tightened. He couldn’t believe he’d come back to this town willingly—and to stay, no less. Coming for his sister’s wedding had been mandatory, and he’d flown in and out within forty-eight hours. His girlfriend, Carla, had opted to stay in Denver, citing that she wasn’t quite ready to meet his family.
A month later, she’d broken up with him. Jared kicked himself mentally for the hundredth time. He should’ve seen the warning signs that their relationship was in danger, but he hadn’t.
He pushed his ex from his mind, choosing to focus on leaning into the turns on his bike. Riding from Denver to Redwood Bay had taken three days, each with at least eight hours in the driver’s seat. He could’ve gone from Reno up to Medford to visit his mother, but he’d opted for the longer route directly to Redwood Bay.
He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen not to go see his mom. Jared’s visit with his mom during Sophie’s wedding had been fine, pleasant almost. He’d been on his own for so long though, that he couldn’t possibly update his family with what had happened over the last fourteen years.
As Sophie’s house came into view, weariness wormed its way down to his bone marrow. He hoped Sophie kept her fridge stocked with beer, but since she and her husband Mont had been in Spain for the past six weeks, he doubted there was anything edible in the house.
It didn’t matter. Jared knew how to call for pizza. He was just grateful he had somewhere to go that wasn’t in the near vicinity of Colorado. Though he tried to force his thoughts elsewhere, they still circled back to the botched case in his law firm that the senior partner had pinned on him.
He hadn’t known someone could lose a job so fast. Now he knew, and wished he could go back to being so naïve. The loss of his job––and his innocence––had come on the heels of Carla’s breakup, leaving Jared reeling and without any ties to Denver, a city he’d lived in for almost fifteen years–– since age sixteen.
As he parked his bike in Sophie’s driveway, the ocean roaring behind him, he found himself missing the mountains. Mid-February weather in the Rockies could be brutal, but on the coast, the only thing he wanted to escape from was the wind.
He removed his helmet and shook out his hair, glad to be free of the protective headgear. He’d stored a few belongings in the backpack he wore, and a few more in his saddlebags. He’d sold everything else to make this fourteen-hundred-mile journey on a motorcycle possible.
He left the saddlebags on the bike, intending to find the nearest couch or bed and collapse. He made it through the garage with the code his cousin Polly had texted him, and then through the backdoor using the key hanging on a hook near a set of cabinets. He had taken three steps down the hall when a noise stalled Jared’s footsteps.
He wasn’t alone in the house.
Confusion stole through his mind. Sophie had said that her renters had fallen through. Polly had assured him the house would be ready for him, garage code and key and everything.
“Hello?” he called, straining to see down the dimly lit hall. He positioned his bike keys between his fingers, like Wolverine claws. Ridiculous, maybe, but he wanted to be cautious.
The toilet flushed, and Jared relaxed his grip on his keys just a little bit as he moved into the master bedroom—where the sound had come from.
A petite brunette exited the bathroom, her jeans still unzipped.
“Uh, hey,” Jared said, flipping his keys out of his fingers. No need to go ninja-superhero on a woman he towered over by at least a foot.
She screamed when she saw him, leaping backward as her hands flew to her chest and her jeans fell to the floor, revealing a perfect pair of legs topped by a scrap of pretty pink lace. Jared yanked his eyes back to her face.
“Uh—”
“Get out!” she yelled.
Forgetting that technically this was his house, he turned and fled into the kitchen. The woman followed a few seconds later, now completely covered—though the image of her unmentionables had branded itself into Jared’s mind.
“Who are you?” The woman crossed her arms tightly across her chest. Jared scanned her from head to toe, disliking the way she wore her mouth in a thin line of disapproval and appraised him like he was unworthy.
“I’m staying here,” he said, gesturing toward his sister’s house. “Who are you, and why are you in my house?”
“This isn’t your house.” She pointed an accusing finger at him, and all he noticed was how red her fingernails were. Almost like they’d been dipped in blood. She certainly looked like she could commit homicide right now, and Jared wished he still had his key-claws activated.
“My sister, Sophie, said I could stay here,” he explained further. “She didn’t mention I’d have a roommate.” He smiled. “Certainly not a pretty female roommate. I think I would’ve remembered that.”
The woman rolled her eyes. Yikes. Ice queen, Jared thought.
“You must be Jared,” she said.
“Guilty. And you are?”
“Millie Larson. I live next door.” She gestured to her right side, though they stood inside and Jared had no idea which way was which.
“And you needed to use my bathroom, because….”
A healthy flush colored her cheeks, making a smattering of freckles appear on her pale skin. With that dark hair and those red lips, Jared felt the inklings of interest stirring deep inside. But he’d given up on women when Carla had walked out on him. The ring he’d bought six months ago—the one he’d never gotten up the nerve to pull out and give to her—had sold for enough to pay the mortgage on Sophie’s beachside house for six months.
“I’ve been taking care of the house for Sophie,” Millie said, pulling Jared from his past.
“And clearly, the toilet gaskets need to be exercised.”
She cleared her throat and wouldn’t meet his eye. “Clearly.”
“Well, I’m here to take care of that now.” Jared’s meaning was clear.
Millie scanned him from head to toe, her frown deepening as she took in every inch of him. He’d gotten used to disappointing women, but her appraisal still stung.
“We’ll see,” she said before stalking to the front door and letting herself out.
He didn’t try to stop himself from watching her hips sway back and forth. He didn’t follow her either. Simply went down the hall and fell onto Sophie’s bed, grateful it still had sheets and a blanket.
* * *
The next morning, Jared found himself in the ocean, wearing an old wet suit he’d dug up in Sophie’s garage. He hadn’t been on a surfboard since he was a teenager, so he couldn’t manage to get up. Didn’t matter. He enjoyed being roughed up by the waves, coughing up the salt water, and remembering that not everything in Redwood Bay had been terrible.
He let the ocea
n hold him up as he floated on his back, the water icy cold against the back of his head and stealing his breath when it washed over his face. He didn’t care that he was the only one stupid enough to brave the weather this morning. He needed the clarity the chill brought. He’d craved the same solitude in Colorado, and winter weekends often found him in snow caves attempting to release the pressure of the law firm from his head. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn’t.
Today, the cold relieved him of the past few weeks of turmoil. Gone were his job, his life in Colorado, and his girlfriend of three years. He wasn’t sure what his future held in Redwood Bay, but right now he didn’t care.
“Hey!”
Jared became aware of someone yelling. He lifted his head out of the water to see that he’d drifted farther out than he realized, and the person on the beach looked like a miniature doll. Unconcerned, he paddled until he broke the waves. Then he allowed them to push him into the beach.
Millie stood there, steam practically leaking from her ears. “Are you insane?”
“I’m sorry?”
“No one goes out into the ocean during a storm!” She stomped her foot to enunciate her point. “You scared me to death. I even called the Sherriff.”
Jared’s eyebrows bunched together. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I thought you were dead!”
Annoyance rang through him. Why was this woman getting involved in his personal business? How did she even know he’d gone out to the ocean? He wouldn’t have been visible from their houses. She must have been awake before dawn and seen him walk down to the beach.
He wondered if her front window had smudges on it from where she pressed her nose against the glass as she watched his every move.
“Well, as you can see, I’m fine.” He moved past her to where he’d left his surfboard. He tucked it under his arm and strode back toward Sophie’s place.
“You can’t leave!” She hurried after him.
“Sure I can.” He had no interest in staying there with her. Outside of the water the wind was murderous, causing ice crystals to form on the ends of his very wet hair.
“The Sherriff is coming.”
Jared paused and looked at Millie. “I guess you’ll have to tell him you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong.” He left her sputtering as he walked away with a small smile on his face.
* * *
Millie clenched her arms tighter across her chest, her gaze fixed on the house next door. “Sorry, Don,” she said, the howling wind almost stealing her apology. “I guess I didn’t see anyone out there.”
The Sherriff—a man Millie had known since her arrival in Redwood Bay—eyed her like he could detect lies just by looking. She turned her attention to him, daring him to speak the accusation.
He tucked his pen back in his breast pocket. “Okay, Miss Larsen.” He tipped his hat. “This looks like a strong storm. You best take cover.”
She gave him a curt nod and followed him and his deputy up the beach. She knew she should be interested in someone like Don: someone steady and honorable, who didn’t take unnecessary risks. Someone the exact opposite of every man that littered her past.
She slammed her front door harder than necessary, as if Jared would be able to hear her fury from his house. She hadn’t heard him pull up on his fancy-pants motorcycle the evening before, but she still felt the rumble from the engine in her chest.
She shoved away the memories of the last time she’d ridden a motorcycle, six years apparently not long enough to erase them completely. She busied herself making tea, the familiar motions allowing the thoughts of Brady’s funeral, his viewing, the four days when she didn’t know where he was––whether he was alive or dead––to float away.
She sipped her orange blossom concoction in the window seat that gave her an oceanfront view, the warmth settling into the cold places left after her husband’s death. With his life insurance money, she’d been able to uproot herself from her busy life of selling insurance in Seattle. She’d moved to the quiet, peaceful, small town of Redwood Bay and opened a dress shop. Now instead of brokering high-powered deals for wealthy clients, she spent her days tailoring bridesmaid’s dresses.
The last whisper of annoyance left Millie as the gale hit the coast. Though she didn’t open the shop until ten o’clock, Millie didn’t think she’d be going into work today. When storms this strong hit Redwood Bay, everyone hunkered down and rode it out, except maybe Lucy at the diner. But as the wind rattled the glass and drove rain into her siding, Millie thought even Lucy would close up and head home.
She switched on the TV and, sure enough, a wide blue strip ran along the bottom of the morning news show. The National Weather Service had issued a severe storm warning for Redwood Bay, and the mayor was urging everyone to stay inside until further notice.
Millie thought briefly of hurrying into the shop and putting a note on the door. Loud pelting sounds, like bullets, landed on her roof, and Millie darted back to the window. Hail. She hadn’t seen hail in Redwood Bay in all of the time she’d lived here.
The power flickered and went out. Millie decided she wasn’t going anywhere. She pulled out her laptop, glad it was fully charged, and logged onto her website to post a notice that the shop would be closed until the storm blew itself out.
With that done, she retrieved a yogurt from the fridge, suddenly experiencing an overwhelming sense of loneliness in the gray silence. She’d lived alone for years, but she always had the prospect of seeing her friends and customers. And Sophie had always been just a hundred yards away.
Millie missed her neighbor more than she thought she would. They hadn’t talked much, but knowing Sophie was there provided a source of comfort for Millie. She thought of Jared, but his black leather jacket and devilish good looks were hardly comforting.
She shivered at the thought of feeling his day-old beard against her cheek. Startled by the path her traitorous mind took, she yanked out a can of disinfecting wipes and attacked her fridge. After all, she hadn’t cleaned it in a couple of days.
* * *
The storm lasted into the evening, by which time Millie’s boredom was as high as the temperature was low. She had a hard time distinguishing the knocking on the front door from the sound of the rain that still plagued the coast.
When she heard a voice yelling, she scrambled out of bed, where she’d piled four blankets in an attempt to stay warm. She hurried down the hall, wondering who had gotten caught out in the storm. Adrenaline pumped through her, wondering if Brady had been scared before he died, the way the person standing on her porch surely was.
She flung open the door of her house, the gate on her memories just as wide. A man stood there, dripping wet, his fist raised to pound on the door again.
“Get in!” She stepped back to let him enter, only realizing after she’d sealed them in the safety of her house that it was Jared Newton.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, brushing the rain from her arms.
He shook his head, water flying in all directions. He smoothed his straw-colored hair back, and Millie tried not to stare at the curve of his muscles, or the way his T-shirt clung to his chest, or how his jeans accentuated his long legs.
“The power’s out,” he finally said.
Millie gaped at him. “Yeah. Has been for hours.”
“My place is cold.” He shivered. “Sophie doesn’t have a generator.” He glanced around, as if he’d just realized that Millie’s house was just as dark and just as chilly. He sighed. “You don’t either.”
Millie bristled at his condescending tone. “I’ve lived here for six years, and I’ve never seen a storm like this. Of course I don’t have a generator.”
Jared took a couple of steps toward her couch, as if to sit down, then thought better of it. “You live alone.”
“Yes.” Did he have to say like it wasn’t even a question?
“I don’t suppose you have anything I can change into?”
Millie shook her head. Oh, no. He wasn’t staying longer than a few minutes. “I’m sure you have dry clothes at Sophie’s.”
He turned toward her, a half-smirk on his face. “I’m not going back out there. It’s pitch black, and I barely made it over here.”
“Why did you come over?” Surely he could’ve seen that her windows were dark.
“I was freezing.” His smirk bloomed into a grin.
“You’ll be just as cold over here.” She moved into her kitchen, pulling her sweater tighter in an attempt to keep herself warm.
“Sophie didn’t leave anything edible in her house,” Jared said, following her. “I couldn’t go to the grocery store. Well, I did, but they were closed.”
Millie opened the fridge, where most of the food was probably still okay. “You like yogurt? Cheese?”
“Anything.” The barstool behind her scraped against the floor, and when Millie turned, the sight of Jared settled at her counter made her heart pitter in a way that it hadn’t in quite a while. She coaxed it into beating normally. The man was trouble with a capital T, what with his motorcycle and devil-may-care attitude.
She slid a blueberry yogurt toward him and he caught it without looking away from her. “So can I sleep with you?”
“Excuse me?” She glared as he casually tore the lid from his yogurt.
“I can see you’re freezing too,” he said. “And it looks like this storm isn’t letting up any time soon. And who knows how long it’ll take the power company in this Podunk town to restore it.”
“They’re fast,” Millie defended, unsure as to why she cared if Jared liked Redwood Bay or not. “I know the manager, and they’ll have it back on as soon as possible.”
“Okay, don’t get all riled up.” Jared licked his spoon, and Millie tore her eyes away before she started fantasizing about kissing him.