Snow is Falling, Cocoa is Calling! (The Coffee Loft Series: Fall Collection)

13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

MARCUS

M arcus had gone to sleep listening to the patter of light raindrops against the windowpane in his bedroom.

The soft, soothing sound reminded him of the times when he was a newly enlisted Navy grunt before he began his SEAL training and had to teach himself to sleep on a ship in any weather, or any noise.

Now, the sound of a banging fist nearly took down his bedroom door. Or was that part of the dream he was having about Caitey Belgrave?

Now, where did that come from? He had to admit that he found her extremely attractive, kind, and sweet, although sometimes distant. Marcus determined he needed to find out why.

His eyes always lingered on her perfect figure, those fantastic legs, and the elegant way she walked. Those lips — her lips. That mouth of hers needed kissing. Badly. But only by him, of course, he mused selfishly.

The banging on his door startled his sleep again—just like his commander used to do, barging in and yanking him out from under the warm blanket?

“Marcus! Wake up!”

Somebody pulled at his feet, and instantly he jerked awake. The fantastic dreams about Caitey fled. The bedroom he was lying in was still in shadow; the curtains pulled across the windows. Where was he? What time was it? Unfortunately, he couldn’t see the clock through his blurry eyes.

Man, he hated that disoriented feeling whenever he woke up in a new place. Especially when rudely awoken.

He didn’t have to wait long before Logan growled in his face and threw off the blankets. “Get your derriere in gear, sailor; we got work to do.”

Marcus got up on one elbow, shaking sleep from his eyes, then dropped back to his pillow again, running both hands through his hair. He used to dream about Shelley, but those were never dreams, merely nightmares. after she robbed him and disappeared into the ether with her conman.

Good riddance, even if it had hurt more than he’d imagined. Love had turned to hate. The deceit was hard to get over and even more complicated trying to understand why.

Logan gave him a year to mope, then started his weekly ritual of bugging him to ask someone new on a date. He had not been enthusiastic for a long time. Having the rug pulled out from underneath you, having your life, your heart, and your savings ripped into shreds was an intense thing to come back from.

He was a zombie for months in the land of the living.

Then, one day, he finally grew sick of his lazy, unmotivated, unshaven self—with the help of Logan, who’d given him more than a few yanks around the neck—and slowly returned to the real world.

“Marcus, you in there?” Logan said now, a little gruff. “Can you hear me?”

He finally jerked to a sitting position, staring at the clock on the bedside table, which read a few minutes after nine. Wow, he never slept this late, not even on vacation.

The dream hovered, and Marcus was desperate to drop back into sleep. Caitey was beautiful, sexy, and had a great smile when she wasn’t so worried about the wedding.

He imagined her drifting through the ceiling like an angel, her hair billowing around her shoulders, hovering over him until she sank into his arms, where he held her close, and their bodies fit perfectly together.

“Hey, is that the actual time?” he finally asked when Logan entered the room.

“Yeah,” Logan said, picking up a pillow from the floor and throwing it at his face. “And it’s kind of a big day, you doofus. My wedding day !”

WEDDING!? That jerked Marcus into action. He sat up and pushed off the blankets. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner? ”

Marcus’s consciousness finally came fully into focus.

“You have a goofy smile on your face, sailor!” Logan said with a laugh. “It’s my wedding day, not yours.” When Marcus growled at him, his friend quickly apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I know that’s still a sore point.”

“You’d think it wouldn’t be such a tender spot after four years. And it isn’t. My hurt turned to hate, followed by ambivalence, and then anger for being so taken in by her.”

“Quit blaming yourself,” Logan chided. “But someone put that smile on your face. Might it be Jenna’s cousin? Our cute and flustered wedding planner?”

“Mind your own business,” Marcus said, trying not to laugh.

“If you want to make a move, now is the time before she leaves tomorrow. Well, after the ceremony, when Jenna and I are safely on our honeymoon. But we’ve got a big problem right now.”

Marcus sat up, pushing the blankets away. He was on duty now. The old training kicked in, but Logan’s following words almost knocked him off his feet.

“Hey, I’ll check all the cameras right away. I saw the wedding announcement on the local news, and we might get gawkers.”

“No gawkers this morning.”

“Huh? How can you be so sure?”

“Because there’s three feet of snow out there!”

“Snow! But I heard rain right after midnight.”

“Temps dropped from sixty to thirty—and that rain turned to snow. It’s been coming down like a blizzard for about six hours. We’re all on shovel duty. Guests will start arriving soon after five for the six o’clock ceremony.”

Marcus rubbed at his jawline, still trying to shake himself fully awake. He didn’t admit it to Logan, but of course, he had been dreaming of Caitey. And it was a very nice dream . . . She was serving him hot cocoa loaded with whipped cream, and they were sharing sips from the super-sized mug at the Coffee Loft.

But for now, he needed to focus. He cleared his throat. “So, um, we need to clear the entrance road and the driveway.”

Logan shook his head. “No way to clear the road—not a quarter of a mile piled with three feet. We’d need a snowplow. But yeah, the driveway, the patios and porches, and at least parking spots.”

“I’m right there with you,” Marcus told Logan. “Bummer about the snow on your wedding day. Have you talked to Jenna yet?”

“Just briefly. She sounded a little upset but was putting on a brave face for me. Her mother is with her, and they’re figuring out a new battle plan.”

“Wedding still on?”

“No question about that! I’ve already been waiting too long to marry Jenna. It’s today. Or else, this man will be carrying her off into the wilds and finding us a cabin.”

“Hey, that might be better in the long run,” Marcus joked .

“But I promised Jenna she would have her dream wedding . . . so there’s that.” He gave a shrug and a wan smile.

Marcus nodded. “Yeah, I got you on that point. A woman must have her dream nuptials. Don’t jinx it by denying her that on Day One of your marriage.”

“See you in five,” Logan said, then shut the bedroom door behind him with a firm bang.

Marcus jumped up, chuckling to himself. Thankfully, he’d come prepared, knowing this event was in the mountains. Within minutes, he wore long johns, a flannel button-down, jeans, a scarf, and a heavy coat. And thick gloves.

After he was dressed and outside, he and Logan retrieved shovels from the outdoor garden shed and began moving snow. Reginald had unlocked one of the garages and rode out on a snow blower.

Marcus whooped. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he called out to Reginald, stiff in a thick coat and knitted cap, and collar up since it was still lightly snowing.

Giving a salute as he passed, the older man drove the snow blower to the front driveway while Marcus and Logan fist-pumped into the air. That machine would save them a ton of work hours—and they didn’t have hours. But the property was huge, and this would take a few hours.

He and Logan stayed in the large courtyard area behind the house, removing every speck of snow from the stones, the outdoor furniture, the Roman statues, and the flower gardens, which were looking very stressed—brown and sagging. Poor roses and lilies. It had been a mild autumn, but overnight, it turned to deep January cold and snow.

“At least a storm up here doesn’t affect LAX.”

“That’s true,” Logan agreed. “We do have a few more people flying in. Caitey’s parents, for instance. I think they landed this morning.”

Knowing that Caitey’s father was an ambassador made her backstory to Marcus even more intriguing. Had she ever lived in Portugal with them?

He couldn’t help thinking about the woman while he mindlessly shoveled and threw piles of snow away from the courtyard and main walkways that would be used from the parking area to the house.

What was she doing right now . . . had she and Jenna gone into full panic mode over the unexpected three feet of snow?