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  Ida Foster was no less than an icon in the town. She’d been a school-teacher turned principal turned mayor, an office she’d held until two years ago. Fallon’s mother was born and raised in Whiskey Springs as was her father, and four generations before him. Ida had always been known as a compassionate, loving, God-fearing, and honest woman. When Fallon had first moved back home, a few people took issue with her efforts to resurrect the pub that stood on the edge of town. At first, Ida had laughed it off as a handful of ladies hoping to revive prohibition. When word traveled back to her that the plot to derail Fallon stemmed from offense over Fallon’s sexuality, the town got to view a different side to Ida Foster. Nothing was more dangerous that a mama bear protecting her cub. Fallon would have thought people here would’ve learned that lesson long ago. Occasionally, people needed a reminder. No one had taken issue with Fallon since, at least, not outside of tight-knit circles around a kitchen table.

  “Well, now that Charlie’s off the market unless Daryl and Daryl undergo some metamorphosis and become Venus and Serena, I’ll pass.”

  Carol laughed. “Okay, I get it—back off.”

  “No, I just…”

  “Don’t say anything else. Are you sure you don’t want me to close up shop? It would give you the time to pop over to Andi’s before you have to plow?”

  “I’m sure,” Fallon said. She was tempted to accept. Their morning together had been amazing, and Fallon imagined it would be days if not a week before she would meet Andi again privately. If she went to meet Andi, she’d be gone until the wee hours. There would be no chance for rest, and Fallon needed some.

  Carol wrapped Fallon in a hug. “Just don’t hurt yourself.”

  “Never gonna’ live that down.” Last December, Fallon had nearly cut off a finger trying to hitch the plow to her truck. It was a freak accident, a slip that caused her finger to get caught. The boys had never let it go.

  Carol winked. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Fallon stepped back inside and behind the bar. She was tempted to pour herself a drink. Knowing that the next day was likely to start in a few hours or less, she thought better of the idea and put on a pot of coffee instead. She looked down at her phone and chuckled.

  Andi: You’re really going to make me take care of this myself?

  Fallon typed in her response.

  Fallon: You know, the roads are slick already.

  Andi: It’s not just the roads that are wet, Fallon.

  Fallon laughed. “You are going to kill me one of these days.”

  Fallon: Let me know when it starts sticking and I’ll come dig you out.

  Andi: Cute.

  Fallon startled when her phone rang. “Yes?”

  “What are you doing?” Andi asked.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Thinking about what I wish you were doing.”

  “Is that right?”

  Andi sighed. “Might not see you for a week or so.”

  “I know.”

  “That’s a long time,” Andi breathed.

  Fallon sat down on a bar stool. It wasn’t the first time she’d listened or watched as Andi touched herself. She’d like to say that watching was more of a turn-on, but there was something intensely arousing about hearing Andi and not being able to see her. It reminded Fallon of her youth, all the nights she would close her bedroom door and imagine Andi naked—imagine touching Andi while she explored herself. Andi might not realize it, but she’d taught Fallon a great deal about pleasure before they’d ever slept together. Fantasies of Andi Sherman drove Fallon to learn how she liked to be touched, and she had no doubt that those nights had made her a more adept lover. Now, she could picture Andi clearly. She didn’t need to conjure a fantasy. She’d memorized the expression on Andi’s face as Andi hovered close to climax. She’d felt Andi’s heart race and heard her whimpers gradually change to strangled cries of ecstasy. She could hear Andi’s uneven breathing on the phone. It made her heart beat slightly out of time. Maybe, I should’ve taken Carol up on her offer. She bit her lip gently as she listened to her lover.

  “Too long,” Andi said.

  “Oh?” Fallon played along. “What would I be doing if I were there?”

  “You’d be inside me.”

  A jolt traveled from Fallon’s ears straight to her center. Jesus. On second thought, maybe this was better than being there. No way.

  “You’d be licking me,” Andi said.

  “Yeah? Is that what you are imagining right now? Me between your thighs?”

  Andi gasped.

  “You are,” Fallon surmised. If only you knew how many times I imagined that over the years. “Tell me. What do I feel like?”

  “Warm,” Andi breathed. “Wet… Soft…”

  Warm and wet were excellent ways to describe Fallon’s current physical state as well. Had she not been in front of two large windows, Fallon would have become more than a verbal participant in their play. These were the parts of Andi that Jake had never and would never share—Andi’s unbridled desire. Fallon loved it.

  “You want me to make you come?” Fallon asked.

  Andi groaned. “Yes,” she hissed.

  “Umm. You want to imagine it’s my tongue playing with you right now instead of your fingers.”

  “Yes.”

  “Soft and slow, Andi. Take it soft and slow. Not yet. You like it when I tease you.” Jesus, who is getting more out of this? Fallon steadied her breathing. She heard Andi’s breath catch and sputter. “Not yet.”

  “Please.”

  “You want to beg me?”

  Andi moaned. “Yes.”

  “Slow down,” Fallon instructed. “Easy. Soft, just like I touched you before I left this morning.”

  Andi gasped. “Fallon…”

  Fallon was losing her resolve. The temptation to plunge her hand into her jeans was growing by the second. She closed her eyes. She could almost feel Andi’s hands in her hair. God help me. “Now,” Fallon said. “Come on baby, right now. Feel me right now.”

  Andi screamed, announcing her pleasure. “Make me come, Fallon! Oh… Baby…”

  Fallon throbbed with desire. Every inch of her begged to be touched. Her body screamed at her to relieve the ache—right now. She closed her eyes and groaned.

  “I wish you were here,” Andi whispered.

  “You have no idea how much I want to be.”

  “I’ll miss you.”

  “Mm.”

  Andi giggled. “Frustrated?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Take care of it,” Andi suggested.

  Jesus. “I wish I could.” Trust me, when I get home later, I will. She sighed. “You are sexy as hell; you know that?”

  “You might be a tad biased.”

  “No,” Fallon said honestly. “You are.”

  Andi rolled over and hugged the pillow Fallon had rested on earlier that day. “I’ll miss you, Fallon.” It was the truth. She would.

  “You’ll see me,” Fallon reminded her. She heard Andi sigh. “I’ll miss you too.”

  “Be careful out there, Fallon.”

  “I won’t cut off any appendages you find useful,” Fallon teased.

  “I’m serious.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Text me when you finish,” Andi requested.

  “Finish with plowing or finish relieving this pain you’ve inflicted?”

  Andi grinned. “You can call me for that too.”

  Fallon chuckled. “Get some rest.”

  “Text me, Fallon.”

  “I promise.” Fallon took a deep breath and placed her phone on the counter. She smiled. Andi was one of a kind. She blew out her breath and started for the coffee maker when something caught her eye outside the window. “What the hell…”

  ***

  Riley’s legs were growing tired. She couldn’t imagine how Owen had managed to stay asleep. She’d nearly dropped him twice. She jostled him on her shoulder and looked at her phone. A black
screen met her gaze. “Fuck me.” She tried to power the phone on—no luck. “This is ridiculous. It can’t be much further.” She’d been repeating that mantra for what felt like hours. She was cold, tired, and nervous. There were no street lights. As the snow began to fall steadily, she feared she might lose her bearings. What could she do? She couldn’t sleep on the side of the road with Owen. It wasn’t safe. She strained to make out something in the distance. Up ahead, she could faintly make out what looked to be some neon signs in a window. “Civilization, buddy,” she whispered to her son. “Thank God.”

  Riley pressed ahead, willing her legs to keep carrying her weight and Owen’s. Finding light was promising, but she suspected she had farther to travel than it appeared. Frankly, another two steps seemed too far to traverse. She tightened her hold on Owen and offered a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening. Please, just let me get there.

  ***

  Fallon moved to look out the window. “What…” She squinted to bring an approaching figure into focus. “What on earth?”

  Fallon grabbed her jacket and flew out the front door of Murphy’s Law. As the figure came into clearer focus, Fallon’s pace increased. “Hey!” She called out.

  “Oh, thank God.” Riley stumbled slightly.

  Fallon caught the young woman. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know. We’ve been walking a while.”

  Fallon’s gaze narrowed with concern.

  “My car,” Riley’s thoughts seemed to spin in time with her head. “My phone…”

  Fallon caught her again. “Whoa… Let’s get you inside.”

  “Inside?” Riley asked.

  Fallon pointed to the building behind her. The young woman seemed confused. Her legs wavered. Fallon put an arm around her and guided her toward the pub. “Let’s get you inside and warmed up, and we’ll figure out how you ended up here.” Good thing I didn’t head to Andi’s. She opened the door to the pub and helped her charge inside.

  “Where are we?” Riley asked.

  Fallon almost laughed at the irony. If nothing else, the pub was aptly named. “Welcome to Murphy’s Law,” she said as she offered the woman a chair. Fallon knelt in front of her. “Let’s try this again now that we’re someplace a little warmer.” She smiled. “I’m Fallon,” she said. “This is my pub, Murphy’s Law.”

  Riley nodded. “Riley,” she introduced herself.

  “And, who is this?” Fallon inquired.

  Owen’s eyes had begun to open. He reached for the hat on his head and discarded it. Fallon chuckled. Typical.

  “This is Owen,” Riley explained. She took the first deep breath she had since leaving the car on the side of the road. “My car,” she began again. “I don’t know what happened. It started bucking. I pulled over and it just…”

  “Died?” Fallon guessed

  Riley nodded. “I didn’t have any cell service.”

  “So, you thought you’d walk until you got some.”

  Riley nodded again.

  “Umm. That can be tricky out here sometimes,” Fallon said. She studied Riley thoughtfully for a minute. “How about a cup of coffee to warm up?”

  “I’m sorry. Do you have a phone I could use? I can have someone tow…”

  “You’re not going to get anybody out here now,” Fallon said. “Not for a few hours. By then the snow will be coming down full-speed. Cream or sugar?”

  “Both.”

  Fallon handed Riley a mug of coffee. “Any idea where the car is?” Fallon asked.

  “I’d just passed a sign for Whiskey Springs. It said two miles.”

  That’s a good mile down the road. “You were walking a while. Where are you heading?”

  Riley sipped her coffee carefully as Owen fidgeted on her lap. “Home.” Whatever that means.

  Fallon was curious. “Where’s home?”

  “It’s supposed to be 22 River Drive in Whiskey Springs.”

  “The Main’s place?”

  Riley nodded. “You know it?”

  “I ought to. I spent plenty of time there when I was a kid.”

  Riley shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “My mother and Sylvia Main are friends.”

  “Sylvia is my husband’s grandmother. Well, she was his… He’s no longer…”

  Fallon nodded. “I heard. I’m sorry.”

  “You heard?”

  “Small town,” Fallon said. “My mother mentioned someone was taking over the place.” Owen chose that moment to protest his mother’s grasp. Fallon managed to catch him before he hit the floor. “Easy there, buddy.”

  Riley set down her mug and took custody of her son again. “I know you’re tired,” she cooed to him. “Hang in there for a few minutes.” She kissed his head. Like that will work.

  “Look,” Fallon began cautiously. “What kind of car do you have?”

  Riley’s confusion was evident.

  “I can probably tow it with my truck. If I don’t get a move on, it’s likely to get plowed in when they start clearing the roads.”

  “Shit,” Riley muttered.

  Fallon grinned.

  “It’s a Ford Explorer, but there’s a small cargo trailer attached that…”

  “I understand. Shouldn’t be an issue.” Shit. I’ll probably have to make two trips.

  “Listen, I don’t want to put you out. You don’t even know me…”

  “No offense, I don’t think you have many choices,” Fallon said honestly. She glanced out the window. And, you’re probably not going to like what I am about to say. “It’s already after midnight. In another hour or two it’s going to be a complete white-out. I could try to get you to your house. If I do, I’ll lose the window to tow the car.”

  Riley sighed. Great. What am I going to do? Sleep in a bar with a toddler?

  Fallon sensed Riley’s unease. “Look, I know that you don’t know me from Adam. I get that. I’ve lived here most of my life. I know these roads and how they’ll look shortly.” She took a deep breath. “My house is up the hill right behind where we are. I can take you and your son up there while I tow the car and trailer here…”

  “I can’t ask you…”

  “You didn’t. He looks like he needs a bed, and frankly so do you.”

  “Gee thanks.”

  Fallon shrugged. “It’s understandable,” she said. “If it helps, my mom was the mayor for almost twenty-years. She’d kill me if I didn’t help you out. The fact that you’re related to Sylvia? Well, there’s no coming back from that.”

  “You’re Ida Foster’s daughter?”

  “Unfortunately for her at times,” Fallon joked. “Let me guess; Sylvia told you to look her up.”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Listen, Riley, I really don’t think either of us has much choice here. I’ve got the room. You’ve got a toddler, and we’ve got a storm rolling in.”

  Riley wasn’t certain if she wanted to scream, cry, or hug Fallon. Fallon’s words made sense. Still, she didn’t know this woman at all. What was she supposed to do?

  “I know it probably doesn’t mean much—my promise that is. I promise you will be safe—if that helps at all.”

  “I could just wait here and…”

  “You can. If that’s what you are comfortable with, you can. There’s heat and you are welcome to call anyone you like. Like I said, I live up the hill. I’ll have to be down here to plow the lot later anyway. If you want to stay here, that’s fine. It’s a lot more comfortable up there. Trust me on that. I should know. You can get some rest. I’ll make sure your car gets to the garage tomorrow and we’ll get you home. I’m sure Pete has a loaner you can borrow at the shop until he works things out with your car.”

  Riley’s head was spinning again. Pete? Who the hell was Pete? Why would anyone offer to let a stranger stay in her home? What was the catch? Maybe she’d hit her head and landed in Oz or something. Owen began to groan and kick. He was exhausted. She was freezing and exhausted. What el
se could she do?

  “My place is nicer than this,” Fallon tried to lighten the mood. “Come on. I’ll drive you up there.”

  Riley nodded dumbly. If nothing else, she would have a story to tell. “Fallon?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I…”

  “Don’t sweat it.”

  ***

  Fallon was eager to get Riley Main settled so that she could get moving on her tasks. The snow seemed to be falling faster each second. So much for rest. Despite her frustration, her heart went out to Riley. It was obvious that Riley felt both anxious and guilty. Anxious Fallon could easily understand. Guilty? What was that saying? Shit happens. She led Riley to her bedroom. “You two can have this room. There’s a bathroom if you want to take a shower. Plenty of towels in the closet in there.” Fallon reached in a drawer and pulled out some sweatpants and a thermal shirt. “Probably too big for you, but they’re warm and dry,” Fallon said.

  “I can’t accept…”

  “Hey, what do they say?”

  Riley shook her head.

  “Shit happens?” Fallon winked. “Make the best of it.”

  “What about you?”

  “Me? I’m going to go get your car and that trailer off the side of the road. Then I’m going to plow the lot and then I’ll crash on the sofa like I always do. Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

  “I’m going to owe you…”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” Fallon said honestly. “I’m glad I was still at the pub.”