Lovesick (Coffee Shop #2) - Katie Cross Page 0,2

head?” I asked.

Her fingers brushed her forehead. She shook her head. “No.”

I reached into a bag behind her seat. An assortment of clothes were stashed in a small duffel there. I grabbed a hoodie and handed it to her.

“Put this on. Then you can put on my parka. They’ll help.”

She wasn’t wearing a coat, although there had likely been one in the car. Her thinness probably meant a whiff of wind could chill her. There weren’t many lights in the Zombie Mobile, but her dazed expression and dusky lips were unmistakable. She slipped her arms into the hoodie and pulled it as far down her body as she could. I slid out of my parka and handed it to her.

“My parka too.”

She hesitated. “W-what a-a-bout you?”

“I’ll be fine. We’re only a few miles away from the turnoff to Adventura. Once we get over the bridge, it’ll be much safer.”

She nodded. The parka nearly swallowed her, but her shivers had already slowed. I set a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you all right? That was . . . that was nasty business back there.”

She nodded again, the muscles in her neck tight. How had she survived such a fast-moving event? How easy it would have been for me to miss her. If I hadn’t glanced to the left at the exact right moment, I never would have seen her brake lights. The flashing brights. If the Zombie Mobile didn’t amble so slowly, I couldn’t have stopped in time to help.

To arrive seconds before she plunged into the river.

Unable to contemplate that thought further, I set it aside. Right now, I had to make sure we both remained intact.

“I’ll get us to Adventura safely.” I put the old truck into drive again. “I promise.”

My muddled brain turned back to the road, which looked like a white cloud. By now, the canyon would be closed. I doubt we’d see any other cars, which made it all the more miraculous that I’d found her.

“Okay,” I muttered. “Here we go.”

Striking off into the white set my hair on edge. Definitely the worst storm I’d seen since moving back to Pineville late last winter. Lizbeth’s recent scrape with death didn’t help my nerves. Still, I forced my mind to focus on the path ahead.

The road rumbled if I drifted toward the edge, which helped me stay in the middle. We crawled along at twenty miles an hour. Lizbeth clutched her seat belt, nostrils flared. She held her breath when we crossed the river over the bridge that would take us to my home, a camp named Adventura on the other side of the canyon from Pineville.

Seconds later, the Zombie Mobile roared through eight inches of fresh powder without a problem. That’s when my mind opened again. Under the canopy of trees and the comforting rock faces on either side of the valley, I let out my first metaphorical breath.

The universe had been kind to Lizbeth, but Lizbeth could also be a gift for me. With Lizbeth at my side when I returned, I wouldn’t have to explain to Mark why I’d been in Jackson City on a random Friday night.

Everything happened for a reason.

I wasn’t a full-on hippie, but I was zen enough to believe that.

3

Lizbeth

JJ’s intent concentration on the road helped me stop my mental sobbing and get a hold of myself again. If I had to speak, I’d lose it.

Absolutely lose it.

Despite the horrifying conditions, he appeared as laid back as ever. JJ had always been easygoing. Quick to smile. He was calm water compared to his boundlessly energetic twin, Mark. I couldn’t have picked anyone better to be my saving grace.

Or so I hoped.

The fact that I was plunging into the snowy mountains with a man I didn’t really know—despite my raging crush on him—didn’t escape my notice.

Snow fell in buckets as JJ smoothly navigated a pristine lane. The mountains loomed overhead, dark specters behind the snow. The wind slowed slightly. Frigid air crept in from the windows and the bottom of the truck, which I strongly suspected had a hole beneath a wooden board at my feet. The old thing smelled like rust and hot dogs.

“Adventura is just around the corner,” he murmured a few minutes later. “We’ll get you all warmed up, Lizbeth.”

JJ and Mark Bailey were enigmas. People spoken of constantly in our small mountain town, but rarely seen. Mark and JJ had returned to Pineville around the same time I did. They came late last winter to open Adventura, a