She didn’t quite roll her eyes, but it was close. “We went snowshoeing.”
Brant nodded, chewing on his lip.
Layla slowly shook her head. “He’s not answering.”
He stood in front of her now, looking down into her wide dark eyes. She wasn’t exactly smiling, but there was a hint of merriment in her expression, like him meeting Ernie was the biggest joke of all.
“Rover Man took you snowshoeing? What kind of date is that?”
“A fun one,” she said dismissively. Layla set her phone on the counter and stuffed her hands into her coat pockets. She seemed to be weighing something heavy. Finally, she said, “I can take you around the perimeter if you’d like. I don’t have a key, but you can at least peek in the windows.”
If the topic of snowshoeing was off limits, he’d get her talking about Copper Creek real estate. At least his trip wouldn’t be a complete waste if Ernie didn’t show. “If it won’t be too much trouble for you.”
Layla waved her hand, leading the way back to the front door. “Not a big deal.”
The building and its parking lot took up the whole block. There were probably more weeds growing through the concrete than there were in the nature preserve he noticed south of town. It wasn’t pretty. The green awnings over the main entrance were stained and flapped in the breeze. But he couldn’t care less about cosmetics. All he needed was a roof over his equipment.
They stepped over a rusty chain-link fence that did nothing to keep anyone off the premises or contained within. The solid two-story building had wide double wooden doors on this side. He’d bet the doors were old enough to have seen horse-drawn wagons loaded with ice at some point. Now the doors were hardly weatherproof. Their only appeal was purely aesthetic.
They approached one of the windows, but the sill was too high to see anything. Layla scanned the area around them and found a concrete block in the grass. She set it underneath the window. Brant gingerly balanced himself on it while he peered into the darkness of the first floor before his eyes adjusted.
It was a mess, all right. Garbage littered the floor. Broken windows on the other side let in shafts of light, revealing puddles dotting the concrete floor. The big equipment he expected to see was gone, a plus.
“Ernie had all the metal scrapped years ago. He’s made halfhearted attempts to sell the building but honestly, I think he likes owning the biggest building in town.” Layla leaned against the wall while he studied the overhead door, wondering if his truck would fit. “He’s our only local realtor, but the title doesn’t quite fit.”
“Sounds a little eccentric.”
“A wealthy eccentric. He certainly doesn’t need the money.”
“No?” He stepped off the block and brushed his hands together. The sill was littered with debris from the old crumbling bricks and whatever the wildlife left.
“His family made a fortune in the mines up here when they were a thing.”
He blew the air out of his cheeks. It looked like the reclusive Ernie wasn’t going to show. In hindsight, it shocked him that Joan was able to get a hold of him at all, let alone make an appointment.
They walked around the back of the building together, fighting fallen limbs and vines, victims of storms who knew how long ago. At one point, Layla faltered as she stepped over the trunk of a small cedar. Her arms flailed before Brant lunged forward to steady her.
“Are you good?” His one hand was on her hip, the other holding on to her opposite arm as she found her balance again. The scent of her shampoo floated in the air when her hair brushed his cheek. It was almost painful to let her go.
“Yes, thank you.” She slipped her arm away, but smiled at him over her shoulder. Two ruddy circles marked her cheeks.
“I’m sorry that this was a wasted trip for you,” she said when they stood next to his truck five minutes later. She looked over to the building across the street again, where the mysterious Ernie supposedly lived. “Maybe he’s not even home.”
“You’re right. It’s probably a little too far gone.”
“On the other hand, Copper Creek doesn’t have a health inspector who’d kick you out.”
“True.” Brant felt the sense of urgency to find a place grow now that this building was off the table. “Well, if you hear of a place that’s big enough to fit a delivery truck and scaffolding inside, let me know. And I don’t mind pigeons.”
She laughed. Her eyes looked much brighter, enhanced by the cold and her white parka. When he caught her eye, Layla’s smile slowly faded. A silent moment held them suspended while a little thread of regret wove its way into his subconscious.
He needed to choose his words carefully. “You know, we never finished the conversation in the living room that night. When we were at the inn.”
Her lips parted. They were the color of ripe cherries. “Which conversation was that?” she asked.
“You said the kiss wasn’t the problem. But you never told me what the problem was. The lights came on and you didn’t finish what you were saying.”
Layla nodded slowly but stayed silent. There was that look again. The slight tilt to her chin, hinting at strong opinions swirling around in that pretty head, thoughts he might never be privy to.
