Snowed Under (Roadside Attractions Book 7)

  Copyright © 2021 by Abby Knox

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations

  SNOWED UNDER

  ABBY KNOX

  Summary

  Lucy

  I should focus on investigating this strange small-town sheriff, but what I’m excited about is the chance to see real snow for the first time in my life. When the universe conspires with Mother Nature to bring me face to face with the man I hooked up with years ago, I find myself trapped under a lot more than snow. Both of us are a little older and a little wiser this time. There’s something about the magic of snow that reminds us of the essential things in life.

  Wyatt

  These days, love is everywhere in the tiny town of Fate. While I’m happy for my friends, that’s not the hand the universe has dealt me. I pour all my imagination into taking care of my town. So, maybe my unorthodox practices have put a target on my back. And wouldn’t you know it, the feds have sent in the most unexpected person to question my methods. I’ve got one night to make sure I don’t lose her again, and I aim to make the most of it.

  About the series:

  All is not lost when you break down by the side of the road, especially if you break down anywhere near the town of Fate. Who might you meet first? Will it be a grumpy tow truck driver? A bored sheriff with too much time on his hands? A bar man whose clumsy meet-cute ends with spilled beer all over your knitting project? Never fear, because high-heat, insta-love, small-town romances and happily ever afters await you! Come for the cherry pie, and stay to shake hands with the mayor (the only truly good boy in town.) Enjoy!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  More by Abby Knox

  Chapter One

  Lucy

  The anonymous text pops up just as I’m wrapping up the last interview of the day.

  You haven’t been home in two days. Did you take a vacation, Agent Brody?

  Excusing myself, I step outside of the Gold Hill Sheriff’s Office, so the traumatized pre-teen I’ve just interviewed won’t see me sweat. This attempted kidnapping investigation is an ongoing thorn in my side. It started as a social media prank challenge among teens, which was bad enough. Now copycats are everywhere. It’s awful. So, I don’t feel like dealing with my stalker today, on top of everything else.

  It would be nice if the cyber nerds in D.C. could take a minute to track down the IP address of this creep, but I understand they have bigger fish to fry on the dark web.

  Outside, I take a deep breath and remind myself that this anonymous guy is small potatoes. I’ve dealt with lots of weirdos online before.

  For this moment, I put the creepiness out of my head so I can enjoy this wide-open view and steel-gray sky. The Florida sunshine is plentiful, but sometimes it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I’m feeling hopeful I might get to see snow for the first time before I have to head back to Miami.

  I wish I could stay a little longer and maybe take a drive out into those hills and see what it’s like.

  And then the inevitable thought floats in and takes center stage before I can bat it away: I wonder if Mooney is still out there somewhere, protecting his beloved little town.

  That thought occurred to me as soon as I had instructions to report to this little corner of Appalachia. Mooney is somewhere around here. Maybe I should look him up. No, I shouldn’t That would be weird, wouldn’t it?

  These thoughts are just my brain telling me I need a vacation. Ironic that my obnoxious stalker would mention that word.

  Although I’d never say it out loud, I am tired. On top of that, Florida swamps, palm trees, and beaches never did anything for me. I’d love to rent a cabin and kick back in the rolling hills for a while. Do nothing but…what do they do here? I have no idea. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.

  My fellow agent and partner, Robert, steps outside to tell me we’ve hit another dead end.

  “I think this well is dried up. More copycats, from the looks of it.”

  I sip my tea and nod. I know he’s right.

  The sky is darkening with the promise of snow in the distance, right over the Ohio River. Past that, out there somewhere is Fate. A place I’ve never been to but a place I’m familiar with virtually. Yeah, I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’ve been watching Mooney on social media for some time now. Ever since I’ve been thinking of taking a vacation. But how weird would it be for me to show up in his life again? Pretty freaking weird.

  Robert sees my faraway gaze, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. “Look, I gotta head back to Florida, but Sheriff Oakley’s been bugging us for a while now about a suspect, if you’re interested in sticking around for another day or two. He seems to think there’s this suspicious-acting sheriff down in Fate, Kentucky.”

  Robert might as well have said, “You just won the lottery, and you have only three days to spend it.” It would be equally as ridiculous.

  “Excuse me?” I snap my eyes to my partner, suddenly very interested.

  He shrugs, sips his coffee, and says, “Yeah, I think it’s just some kind of rivalry between the towns. But, worth checking into.”

  My jaw is almost on the ground as he continues. “I’m just saying if you wanna get stuck in a small town in the middle of a snowstorm and take a breather for a few days, you could call it work.”

  I know Robert thinks my sudden reaction is about the chance to see snow—real, fluffy, snowman-worthy snow. What he doesn’t know about is Wyatt Mooney and the one-night stand.

  I shiver inside my coat, which is not nearly warm enough for winter in southern Ohio. “And you want me to go on a wild goose chase so you can go back to Florida and catch the source of the attempted kidnapping sprees yourself?”

  He nods, shooting me a mischievous smile that I know was the same one he used to get a first date with his wife. “Exactly. I could use the promotion.”

  I shake my head. “Go for it. I’ll handle Mooney. I mean, I’ll follow up on the sheriff. Don’t suppose they have an FBI bureau in Fate.”

  “Population five hundred? Not likely. And how’d you know the guy’s name?”

  I sift through the materials that Robert has just transferred to my phone, hoping my reddening cheeks appear to be only weather-related.

  I could admit to Robert that I know this oddball sheriff across the river. That would be the ethical thing to do. I should not be interviewing anyone I had a previous relationship with.

  But I wouldn’t call it a relationship. I would hardly have called it a fling. We were young, athletic, attractive, and spontaneous. Mooney was a flirt, and I was into it. That was it.

  “Oh, it’s right here,” I say, showing Robert the document he just dropped to my phone.

  He eyes
me, but says nothing further.

  Snow and a meeting with Mooney? It seems too much of a coincidence to pass up.

  Robert and I make a plan to compare notes as soon as I’m back in Miami, and then I’m on my way to Fate.

  On my way to Fate.

  That sounds like a promise. “Don’t mess with me, universe. I’ve had quite enough of that for one lifetime,” I say to no one as I wait for my rental car’s heater to warm my frozen fingers.

  The drive south, up and down the rolling foothills and over the river, ties my stomach in knots. What will Mooney look like? Will he remember me? Hell, he probably doesn’t even remember our night together.

  Me? I maintain a very clear memory of every moment. Those thoughts make me smile and blush in public at the most inopportune moments.

  Once, while interviewing a particularly scruffy criminal, my mind had wandered into thoughts of licking Mooney’s stubbled neck.

  Wyatt Mooney wasn’t just lickable; he had a nice way of licking me back. Soft and sensual, that slow tongue made my eyes roll back in my head.

  He wasn’t just soft and slow. He knew the exact moment I was ready to be split open and rutted with fervor. I rode that thick dick all night long.

  The following day, everything had felt mixed up. Mooney had wanted to date me, but I didn’t want a commitment. He had plans to move back to his hometown and work for the local police force, just like his mom had done. I was headed to earn my degree in criminal justice and achieve my dream of being an FBI agent. As soon as I got this job, my doctor gave me a five-year birth control implant at my request. Nothing was going to slow me down, least of all my debilitating monthly cramps.

  And although I never regretted my decision to put my career first, I sometimes wonder, fondly, how things might have worked out if I’d agreed to try dating him.

  The secret I carry around with me is I haven’t had feelings for anyone since that night. Oh, I’ve been on a few dates at the insistence of my peers who say I work too hard. But I never felt the spark.

  My phone rings, and I answer it on the car’s touchscreen. “Hey, Sidney.”

  “Mom, where are you right now?”

  Sidney calls me Mom by choice because she was too young to remember my wonderful, radiant late sister Anissa.

  “I’m in the middle of nowhere, but the good news is, I might see snow,” I reply excitedly.

  Sidney sounds worried. “I know you can’t tell me exactly where you are, but I just wanted to check and make sure you’re not stranded. I heard about a big storm coming through the middle of the country, and I know you’re not here in Florida, so I thought I’d ask.”

  “You’re right; I can’t tell you. What are you up to?”

  “Reading.”

  I’m a little worried that Sidney is becoming too much of a homebody. I know she wants to meet the man of her dreams — although she’s way too young if you ask me — and she’s not going to meet him if she’s sitting at home.

  “You should go out with your friends. It’s Saturday night—don’t you have a Christmas party to go to?”

  “I hate parties. Too much pressure to have a personality.”

  “Your personality is perfect, my dear.”

  “Thanks, Mom. Keep me posted, so I know you’re okay.”

  Sidney is now the age where she wants to mother me more than I mother her.

  Anissa passed away about a year after Sidney was born. Although I was heartbroken at the loss of my sister, who was also my best friend, I was honored to raise the daughter she left behind. My sole focus outside of the FBI has been to make sure Sydney has a good life.

  I admit that I don’t take enough time for myself. Maybe that’s why I’ve been secretly fixated on Wyatt Mooney. Perhaps I’m emotionally stunted because of my choices, but I don’t think so. He was a treat, like a dessert. There’s such a thing as too much of a good thing. Much more of him, and I’d forget all the things I wanted to accomplish. I could fall for him the second I see him again if I’m not careful, a fact that scares me.

  Why should it scare me, though? Because he’s technically under investigation? My instincts are pretty good about people, and I objectively know there’s not an evil bone in Mooney’s body.

  Not one evil bone. Except maybe the thick one that hangs between his legs. Bless him.

  Wyatt Mooney. Holy shit.

  Just as I’m getting lost in the memories, a text comes in. Have a safe trip home, Agent Brody.

  Shit. Who is this creep?

  Whoever this is doesn’t know I’m not headed back to Miami yet, but they do know I’m traveling somewhere. Or maybe they do know where I am. Either scenario makes me feel deeply unsettled.

  I hammer down on the gas pedal, eager to get to a place where someone knows me. Even if it’s been fifteen years since we spoke each other’s names out loud.

  Chapter Two

  Wyatt

  The coffee is always fresh at Ruby’s, and so is the local gossip.

  “I heard that she might be a secret agent.” Town matriarch Ernestine Jenkins always knows everything going on in my hometown, so I sit tight and stare at the back of her blue-gray helmet of hair while I eavesdrop.

  Ms. Ernestine is a virtual font of information for the local population.

  She’s speaking to Maya, the young waitress at Ruby’s Diner, who’s warming up Ernestine’s coffee cup, smirking.

  “I highly doubt that. She works too much,” Maya says in response to the wild claim about her boss, Ruby, the diner owner.

  Ernestine presses. “No, really, did you know she’s a martial arts expert and has a collection of swords at her house?”

  Maya slides a slice of pie across the table, chuckling. “Well, she’s a woman living alone.”

  Ernestine scoffs. “And that’s the other thing! Why hasn’t she settled down?”

  Maya shrugs and rubs her swollen belly. “See, you had the right idea, Maya: snatch up that big love of your life while you’re still young.”

  I let most of what Mrs. Jenkins says roll off my back. I, for one, am 45 and a bachelor. There’s only ever been one woman for me, and she said no. And I am a respecter of people’s boundaries.

  So I do my best to take care of my town in the same way my single mom raised me to do.

  “And don’t think I don’t know you’re listening to me, Wyatt!” Ernestine barks over her shoulder. “I got eyes in the back of my head!”

  Maya quickly pivots the conversation to pie, offering a slice to both me and Ernestine. I do love pie.

  “When do we get to meet that baby?” I ask Maya.

  She smiles and tells me the due date and about how Doyle has been fussing over her. I’m happy for them. Sometimes it would be nice to have someone to fuss over. I know I’d be good at it.

  Our conversation is interrupted when I get a call on my radio from Cash, one of my deputies.

  “Sheriff, there’s someone from the FBI here to see you.”

  I radio back. “FBI, huh?” The truth is, I’ve been expecting it. There’s been a string of attempted kidnappings in Gold Hill, and the sheriff over there has been getting nowhere with finding the perpetrators. It’s been so embarrassing for him that he’s even implied that I might be a suspect. He even went so far as to say on live television that the FBI should look into the “shady antics of my counterpart to the South.” He didn’t say my name, but I knew what he meant.

  There hasn’t been an FBI agent poking around Fate for some time, not since that fugitive wanted for murder tried to kidnap Juniper, wife of our tow-truck driver, Rex.

  The truth is, I can’t even watch TV shows or movies about the FBI ever since Lucy Brody rejected me all those years ago.

  There hasn’t been anyone in my life since her. No one except the entire town of Fate and the surrounding county, which takes up all my time.

  When I pull up to the station, there’s a dusting of snow on the ground that makes the old building look like a picture postcard. It helps that this
structure is one of those old-fashioned jails from the 1930s that doubles as the jail and the sheriff’s residence. Back in those days, the sheriff’s wife used to cook meals for the inmates and such. While I was growing up, my mama used to cook those same meals. It wasn’t much trouble, since we might have one inmate a month—usually just the occasional drunk who needed to dry out.

  The rental car in the parking lot brings me back to reality, and I feel a nervous twinge in my stomach, wondering what this could be about. The FBI doesn’t usually have any business in Fate.

  I remember how cute Lucy was, kicking everybody’s ass on the ropes course at the academy. I remember how round her little butt was, climbing over the wall and scoffing at me when I had offered to give her a boost.

  “You just want an excuse to grab my ass,” she’d said.

  Well, she wasn’t wrong.

  I still recall how that ass looked naked. Round and muscular but also soft. It jiggled when I took her from behind. When she’d looked back at me, her swollen lips parted, her eyes pleading with me to make her cum, I thought I was in love.

  I had mistaken lust for love as many young men do.

  And I haven’t felt any connection to anyone since that night.

  She was on her way to bigger things, and I was on my way back to Fate as a promise to my mama.

  So imagine my surprise when I walk into my office and see her like a figment of my imagination. This can’t be happening. There’s no way that this woman in the professional blue suit, flashing me an FBI badge, with her long blonde hair straightened and hanging down past her shoulders, is Lucy.

  But when she flashes me that smile, I know it’s her.