A Late Thaw

  A Late Thaw

  By Ana Blaze

  A Late Thaw

  Copyright © 2013, Ana Blaze

  All rights reserved. Ebooks are not transferable. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage system without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Andrea Adams

  Cover Art by Fiona Jayde

  Book design by Eden Plantz

  Publisher’s Note:

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First Entranced Publishing, LLC electronic publication: 2013

  Entranced Publishing, LLC

  Minneapolis, Minnesota, United States of America

  www.entrancedpublishing.com

  Table of Contents

  Back Cover Copy

  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

  About the Author

  Back Cover Copy

  Sometimes cool words hide warm hearts.

  Barrett, Vermont is home to nearly as many goats as people. It’s the perfect picturesque spot to stop for cocoa after a ski trip or to buy a Christmas tree from a hunky farmer wearing snug jeans and a pair of well-worn boots. Kiley St. Claire isn’t there for either. She’s come home for one reason and one reason only: make enough money waiting tables at the local tourist trap to survive her final semester of graduate school. Of course she is going to have to see that Christmas tree farmer eventually. That’s fine; Kiley isn’t the same nerdy little girl he palled around with. Nope, she’s done crushing on Cole Thomas. Totally done.

  Cole thought he was ready, but seeing Kiley again is a punch to the gut. She rejected him and ran away without explanation. He still couldn’t imagine a future with another woman. Now at least he’ll have a chance to say what he’s needed to say for years and then, just maybe, he’ll be ready to move on. He only wishes she didn’t look so damn good in her uniform.

  Dedication

  This one is for my Jennifer. I may not remember the day you first sat beside me, but I’m always glad you did.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you first and always to my husband, without your love I wouldn’t be hopeful enough to write happy endings. Thank you to my family and friends for your enthusiastic support. Not all fathers-in-law will purchase a romance novel. I’m grateful that mine did and also grateful he decided not to give it a read.

  I have two charming and talented beta-readers, Terri and Elizabeth. Their input is priceless. Thank you, ladies.

  Big thanks goes to Andrea, my cheerful editor. I’m going to remove the frame and go in deep from now on.

  Finally, I need to give a shout out to the entire Entranced Publishing family. I couldn’t have wished for a better group of authors and editors to stand beside.

  Chapter One

  COLE THOMAS HAD BEEN a late bloomer. One of the smallest boys in their middle school, he’d disappeared to his uncle’s ranch in Wyoming the summer before high school and had come back six inches taller, wearing a cowboy hat. Kiley St. Claire doubted the woman he was currently flirting with remembered that. It was practically ancient history.

  She squinted as she tried to remember the woman’s name. Cole’s fangirl looked vaguely familiar under her over-processed blond hair and cheap but abundant makeup. She was probably one of Cole and Kiley’s former classmates. Amber maybe, or one of the Ashleys. She was pretty—whatever her name was—and she had a fantastic rack. More importantly, she wasn’t wearing a cheap Bavarian Miss costume and pigtails like Kiley was. If they were competing, the babe with the penchant for bleach and blue eye shadow would win. They weren’t, of course. Kiley was done crushing on Cole. It was obvious—had been for years—that he’d never see her as more than a friend.

  She straightened the red bodice that made even her own modest chest look full, pulled the notepad from her already sticky apron, and marched over to their table. Her heels clicked along the scuffed and murky wood floor. No doubt it had originally been a beautiful walnut. Now it was covered with a layer of scum as old as she was and fit right in with the rest of the decor.

  The entire bar was filled with heavy, dark wood tables and stools covered in faded maroon vinyl. Kept clean and under the right lighting it had probably once been genuinely attractive. Probably. If that had ever been the case it had stopped the day Kiley’s boss, the infamous Buddy, bought the building and started filling it with kitschy, vaguely German-themed knick-knacks and neon beer signs. Cole and the blonde were sitting near a display of Hummel knock-offs, one of which appeared to be mooning the patrons.

  A table full of afternoon-drunk Frat guys signaled to Kiley. She held up a single finger in acknowledgement. They could use a couple minutes before their next round, and she had to do this, face Cole, before she lost her nerve. “Are you guys ready to order, or do you need another minute with the menus?”

  “Kiley?” Cole’s dark eyes widened for a second before he started laughing. His shoulders shook, and he slapped the worn wooden tabletop. “This is…” He gestured toward her. “This…oh, you gotta give a turn.” He circled a finger in the air.

  “Do you want a beer or not?” She refused to be embarrassed. Yes, she was dressed like the St. Pauli girl, but it obviously hadn’t been her idea. She didn’t even like wearing costumes on Halloween.

  “I heard you were coming back for the summer, but this…damn.”

  “School’s expensive, Cole, and there aren’t a lot of summer jobs in this town.” Barrett, Vermont was a pretty little town, not a thriving metropolis. If there had been other options, any other options, she wouldn’t be dressed like slutty Gretel serving beer and waffles in a Bavarian-themed restaurant owned by a man who’d never traveled farther than Montreal.

  Cole looked her up and down with a big grin on his too-handsome face. Kiley pretended not to notice that his thick, brown hair was a touch longer than the last time she’d seen him, or that it curled appealingly against the collar of his blue-green plaid shirt. She tried not to check the scar on his left arm—a thin jagged line that was only really noticeable when the skin around it tanned a shade or two darker. Her heart melted a little when she saw it.

  Cole had only recently turned eight the night they went searching for Kiley’s runaway dog. He got tangled in a bit of barbed wire fence hidden amongst the leaves in the woods behind her neighbor’s house. The dog came home on his own later that night, but Cole ended up needing stitches in four places. And a tetanus shot. He made her promise not to tell anyone he’d cried, and she drew a cross over her heart and wished for untold tortures if she broke her word.

  She still hadn’t.

  “So why’d you come then?”

  Kiley shrugged. Way to make a girl feel welcome, Cole. “It’s home.”

  “Wasn’t enough to bring you home last Christmas, or the one before.”

  Yup. She was a horrible daughter, and her mom let the whole town know it. Mother dearest undoubtedly left out that Kiley couldn’t afford to pay for a rental car sturdy enough to make the several-hour trip in wintry weather.

  Before she had a chance to respond, the blonde
sitting with Cole tilted her head to the side and frowned at her. “I remember you.” She smiled then, broadly, as though remembering anything was an accomplishment worthy of her pride.

  Kiley tried to smile at the woman, but her lips were too tight. “Go Bobcats,” she said weakly.

  “Yeah, you were in my gym class. Didn’t you get hit in the face with a tennis ball one time?”

  Kiley had long ago accepted that, despite the lack of any reasonable scientific explanation, her face clearly attracted sporting equipment. She’d absolutely gotten hit with a tennis ball, as well as a volleyball, a softball, and a Frisbee. Once she’d even managed to get wacked in the nose with a broom while they’d attempted to play a grounded version of Quidditch. “Yup, that was me.”

  The other woman nodded. “I knew it. I’ve always been good with faces.”

  “Wow. Catching up is super fun, but I have a bunch of tables. So…”

  “Were you even going to give me a call?” Cole looked hurt, and Kiley wished she didn’t care.

  “Sure. Once I got settled and all, I—”

  “Right.” He scowled. “Why don’t you bring us a couple of drafts. Whatever’s on special is fine.”

  His cool tone sliced through her resolve and made her stomach churn. Why couldn’t she just move on? Being Cole’s friend, watching him date every other girl in town, hurt too much. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t fall back into his well-meaning but clueless clutches this summer. Kiley had come home to work and to save up enough money to live on for the final semester of classes she needed to earn her Master’s in Meteorology. That’s it. She already had job prospects for after graduation in January. This would be her last summer at home.

  She nodded. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

  He’d already turned back to the blonde.

  Chapter Two

  COLE WASN’T REALLY SURPRISED to see Kiley; seeing her was the only reason he’d brought his date to the cheesiest bar in the tri-county area. Still, it shook him more than he’d ever admit. She looked great, prettier even than she’d been the last time he’d seen her. She looked good enough to make him reconsider his thoughts on the ridiculous, shiny German maid costumes the waitresses wore. A glance around the large, heavily drinking, and mostly male clientele gave him second thoughts about his second thoughts.

  She ought to be wearing a sweater, he decided, an ugly, baggy one that covered her from her little pointed chin all the way down past her knees.

  Even seeing it with his own eyes, Cole had a hard time believing Kiley was the newest waitress at Buddy’s Bierhaus. She undoubtedly considered it tacky, demeaning, and beneath her considerable talents. He agreed.

  He ought to feel bad that he’d taken Andi out with such duplicitous motives. But she seemed unconcerned as she chattered away about people he didn’t know and, frankly, didn’t care to if her repeated use of the word parole officer was any indication. He forced himself to look especially interested in the story she was telling when Kiley returned with two large frosty mugs of beer and a chipped bowl filled with stale pretzels. Locals knew better than to eat anything served at Buddy’s.

  Andi turned and thanked her. “You know, you’re prettier than I remember.”

  He bit back a chuckle at Kiley’s pained expression.

  “Umm…thanks?” Kiley tapped her pencil against her order pad.

  “I mean it. Your skin is real nice. A little makeup and some highlights and you could look good.” Andi grinned. “You should come by the shop.”

  “The shop?”

  “The beauty shop. I got my license a few months back, so I’m a professional now.”

  Kiley nodded. Her mouth opened and shut soundlessly like a fish. Cole was starting to imagine little bubbles popping out when she finally responded. “That’s nice.”

  “So you’ll come by?”

  “Maybe. I’m going to be working a lot, so…busy.”

  “That’s exactly why you should do it,” Andi insisted. “Everyone knows blondes get better tips.”

  Cole didn’t know if that was true, and he didn’t really care. He liked Kiley’s hair the way it was, dark and straight. He’d been imagining getting his hands in her silky, smooth hair for the better part of a decade. The thought of Andi screwing it up before he ever got a chance made him wince.

  “I don’t know.” Cole shrugged. “It seems like there are plenty of blonde waitresses here. When the waitresses have different colored hair it makes it easier to remember which one is yours.” And now he sounded like a douche-bag who only recognized women by their hair color. It was official: he actually lost IQ points when Kiley was around. Her scientist side would probably find that interesting. The rest of Kiley was less likely to be impressed.

  Kiley looked across the room. He followed her gaze. A table of rowdy tourists signaled her on the other side of the bar. Her lips curved up, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “I’ll certainly keep that in mind. Enjoy your drinks and let me know if you need anything else.” She was off in an instant, leaving him to fake interest in Andi’s gossip and pretend he wasn’t following Kiley’s movements as she walked from table to table.

  He’d lost track of the number of customers who’d had to switch their drinks around after Kiley served them while he was still nursing his first beer. Kiley was not a very good waitress. He grinned.

  Andi sighed and leaned across the table. “You could have told me this wasn’t a real date.”

  Cole frowned. “What?”

  “It’s pretty obvious we’re here so you can spy on your ex.”

  “Who? Kiley? No! We’re… She’s just an old friend.” It wasn’t exactly a lie; they’d never dated. But saying Kiley was just anything was not entirely sincere.

  Andi laughed. “But she is the reason we’re here.”

  “That’s not… I’m sorry if I’ve been distracted, I’ll—”

  “I’m not mad, Cole. I didn’t think you were going to propose or anything.” She shrugged, and her thin shoulder snuck up through the loose neckline of her blouse. “But if you’d told me all you needed was a cover I could have saved myself the trip home to shave my legs before we met up.”

  Cole chuckled and nodded. He’d not given Andi enough credit. It took a cool woman to slam a man with the sex he’d no longer be welcome to.

  “You do look great,” he offered genuinely.

  “But not your type. Story of my life.” She twisted a lock of hair around her finger and winked.

  He doubted that. Andi was friendly and quite attractive in a bold in-your-face fashion. He was a man on a mission to figure out why the girl who’d run away was back in town, but he’d still noticed that Andi’s high-heeled sandals and extremely short skirt showed off a nice pair of legs. He should have at least told her that, but she was right; his mind was somewhere else.

  “You want me to take you home now.”

  She laughed. It was a nice laugh, sort of throaty and sexy, but it wasn’t Kiley’s laugh. “Nope. You owe me at least another drink. Besides, this got me out of babysitting for my sister’s demon spawn, so I can’t get too mad.”

  “Another beer it is then.”

  “Make it a Long Island Iced Tea, Romeo.”

  Cole grimaced and lifted his hand to wave at Kiley.

  Chapter Three

  HE’D LEFT WITHOUT SAYING goodbye. Cole and his entrepreneurial date had been leaning toward each other laughing when she’d walked by with table seventeen’s order and were simply gone when she’d headed back toward the kitchen.

  Kiley ducked into the hall leading to the restrooms to pull herself together. Knowing, intellectually, that Cole was probably sleeping with a pretty girl and actually seeing him leave with one were very different things. Her stomach knotted. At this rate, she’d have an ulcer before the summer solstice.

  “Not paying you to hold up the wall, Missy.” Buddy frowned as he walked by.

  Buddy was more generous with his definition
of pay than with the actual sum. After fighting hard for the position, Kiley’d been stunned to discover that unless patrons tipped generously she’d regularly fall short of making even minimum wage. The prospect of several months of abject poverty sent her back to her rounds.

  The waitresses at Buddy’s fell into two categories. The first half liked working there; they wore push-up bras and flirted with purpose as they delivered beers and shots of Jägermeister. The other half didn’t like anything. They were the lifers, recognizable by their perma-scowls and the cigarette smoke that clung dedicatedly to their uniforms.

  Kiley didn’t fit in on either side. She was young enough that a couple of the flirts had tried to welcome her to their circle. They’d shared a few tricks, like how to pin up the uniform skirt to make it shorter and how to increase tips by resting a hand on a guy’s shoulder when taking their order. Kiley had burned that bridge by wrinkling her nose and saying that touching seemed a little too “hookery” for her.

  Now, while trying to figure out how to deliver food to two tables at once, she realized making a friend would’ve been a good idea. Kiley tried smiling at one of the lifers. She may as well have been invisible. There was no other option; she simply had to be fast enough at the first table to get the second table’s food out before the cook yelled about it getting cold. Except she already had a tray full of drinks. Shit. So she had to deliver the round of beers first. Then she could get the food for the first table. Yeah. Screwed.

  Kiley hurried across the room and instantly felt a hand on her ass. Squeaking in surprise, she jumped and lost her precarious hold on the tray. All five beers toppled, showering the family at the nearest booth in cheap pale ale. The mother shrieked and clutched at her smallest child as though he’d been covered in acid.

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry. There was a hand…” Kiley grabbed a clump of paper napkins off a nearby table and started sopping up the mess. She could barely hear the cook yelling at her from the kitchen over the mother’s ranting. What were her kids doing in a tacky bar in the first place? There was nothing on the menu worth eating.