Page 4 of Wrapped in Winter
“What kind of plan? I’m happy just doing whatever right now.”
“I know you are. I like this place too, but we’re going to get bored,” Cole persists.
“You may. I won’t. And before you say it, I don’t care that our parents are disappointed. Let mine be disappointed with my life; I certainly won’t be. And isn’t that the most important thing?” I try to reason with him.
He sits back and sighs. “You have a point. We have to be happy first. But I just can’t stand to hear my mom leave another tear-filled message and then have it followed up with an angry one from my dad. I know they’re playing good cop, bad cop, and it’s driving me crazy.”
“So change your number.”
He huffs a laugh. “So simple for you, isn’t it?”
“I’m not saying it’s simple. I miss my parents, but I don't miss the pressure they put on me. If we stayed in Florida running that Fortune 500 bullshit they wanted us to take over, we’d be dead from stress in five years.”
“Okay, so… what? I bartend and you make deliveries and that's our life?”
I shrug. “Maybe. Or maybe we meet the women of our dreams and get married. Start families of our own.”
“How are we friends?” He rolls his eyes at me.
I laugh at him. “I’m a romantic and you’re the planner. Balance.” I sip from my coffee and muse. “I bet you meet someone so wild you won’t know what to do with yourself. You’re going to see her and be completely all-in, and then you’re going to come to me wondering how you'll ever tame her.”
A look crosses his face that I can’t quite read, but then he says, “Oh? Then how about this? I bet you meet a woman so reserved and closed off, she’ll refuse your charms and you'll be left wondering how to win her over with your romantic idealism that doesn't work.”
“Harsh, bro.” We both snicker at ourselves. “I think the cold is freezing our brains.” I stand. “Come on, let's get out of here.”
Cole slides his chair out and rises, grabbing his coffee. We walk to the front of the bakery and toss the empty containers in the bin. When I turn to walk out the door, I walk right into someone.
“Oh, I apologize. Are you alr—” I freeze.
It’sher.
At my abrupt stop of sentence, she looks up, her eyes washing over me for a moment before recognition hits. She spins from me and is out the door so fast, I can’t get another word out to stop her before she’s gone.
When the shock wears off enough that I can move again, I follow her outside calling, “Wait!” but she’s already halfway down the sidewalk toward the next block.
“Who’s that?”
“It’s her. The girl. From the bar!”
He grabs hold of my arm. “Don’t chase her. She clearly doesn’t want to be remembered.”
“She’s unforgettable,” I whisper to myself.
I grab the arm of someone walking out behind us.
“Hey, did you see that girl? The blonde that’s running down the street now.”
The older gentleman looks around. “Could’ve been January. But I don’t know. Haven’t seen her in quite some time.”
“January?”
“Oldest sister of the Nilsson family.” The old man shakes his head. “They’ve been through it, especially that girl right there.” He mumbles something and begins trudging down the sidewalk, and I’m left staring at the back of the woman I can’t get out of my head, but I still don’t even know her name for sure.
Nilsson. That name is familiar. I see it on my delivery tags at least once a week. There’s got to be only one family in town with that name, and now I can’t wait to get to work and see if I found the woman who hasn't left my mind in six weeks.
Chapter 3
January