Page 23 of Almost Enough

I hang up and let my head fall back against the headrest with a sigh. “So. Snow.”

Beau nods, eyes on the road. “Could be worse.”

“Says the guy who probably has flannel-lined everything. I packed like I was going to a spring wedding, not scaling Everest.”

“We’ll stop if you need stuff,” he says simply.

“Okay…” I blink, a little surprised by his easy accommodation. “Thanks.”

Another stretch of silence follows, and I find myself studying his profile—the strong line of his jaw, the way his dark hair curls just slightly at the nape of his neck.

“You know,” I say, unable to help myself, “for someone who barely speaks, you’re surprisingly considerate.”

His eyes flick to me briefly. “Just because I don’t talk doesn’t mean I don’t listen.”

Something warm unfurls in my chest at that. I try to squash it immediately, but it’s already spreading like wildfire.

“Well, consider me impressed,” I reply, aiming for lightness. “Most guys I know talk constantly but never actually hear a word.”

“Most guys you know sound like idiots.”

I laugh, startled by his bluntness. “Can’t argue with that assessment.”

The landscape outside begins to change as we push westward, flat plains gradually giving way to gentle rolling hills. The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the highway, an amber glow spilling over the horizon like something out of a postcard. I try to ignore the subtle ache in my back from hours of sitting still, my body begging for a stretch.

A few hours and pit stops later, we’re finally pulling up to the resort. It’s…stunning. Like, actual gasp-worthy stunning. Nestled at the base of a mountain, the whole place looks like it was plucked from a Hallmark movie and dropped here.

I lean forward in my seat, staring out the windshield. “This place is offensively beautiful.”

Beau cuts the engine, and we sit for a moment, taking it all in. After nearly twenty hours of driving, we’ve finally made it. The exhaustion hits me all at once, and I’m suddenly desperate for a hot shower and a real bed.

We grab our bags from the back of the truck and head for the main entrance. The lobby is all warm wood and leather furniture, with antler chandeliers casting a golden glow over everything. A roaring fire crackles in a stone hearth taller than Beau, which is saying something.

“Welcome!” A cheerful woman greets us from behind the reception desk. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, under the Wolfe wedding,” I say.

“Ah, yes!” The woman beams, typing on her computer. “The wedding party! The bride mentioned you’d be arriving ahead of everyone else. You must be exhausted after that drive.”

“Only slightly delirious,” I confirm with a laugh.

The receptionist clicks through a few screens. “Perfect! We have you in Pine Cottage, one of our premium accommodations. It’s a lovely two-bedroom with a fireplace, full kitchen, and a hot tub on the private deck. Very cozy. It’s all ready for you both.”

I nod, relief washing over me. Thank god. After last night’s truck sleepover, I need space to regroup before I do something stupid like notice how good Beau smells again.

Wait.

I blink. “Both? As in…both of us? Together?”

Her smile doesn’t waver. “Yes, of course!”

I open my mouth to protest, but Beau is already grabbing the key.

“Thanks,” he says with a nod and starts walking back toward the doors.

I stare after him for a beat. Cool. Okay. Unbothered. Chill. I, too, am a pillar of composure and maturity.

I trail behind him, muttering. “No big deal. Definitely not going to panic.”