Frozen By Lies

The door of the Jagged Tavern in the small town of Frore kicks inward with force from the gust of a sharp wind outside. In the entryway appears a handsome, young man. The attention of the folks inside the building is directed to him. Sneers from the men slip across their faces as a twinkle gleams in the stranger’s eye. The few women who are present look away abruptly—except one who’s intrigued by his presence.

The stranger walks toward the bar and lowers himself onto a stool. “Do—”

“Your kind ain’t welcome here,” an older man replies gruffly. He has long, salt and pepper hair that’s pulled back in a ponytail with a matching beard. Tattoos are visible on his forearms from his rolled sleeves. He’s tall and lean yet has broad shoulders and a muscular form. His dark blue eyes shine with a hint of gray.

“Grandpa Jack,” Noelle scolds, approaching him behind the bar. “What has gotten into you?” She places the two plates of food she was carrying in front of the customers who are just beyond the stranger.

“Ain’t nothing gotten into me,” he remarks. “I—”

“Then, take a break,” she encourages, placing herself between him and the new customer. “I’ll handle it from here.”

He doesn’t budge as he stares the man down from over Noelle’s shoulder.

“Go!” she says more sternly.

Grandpa Jack mutters to himself as he exits the bar.

“Apologies for that,” she says, keeping her attention on her grandfather. “I’ve never seen him be—”

“No apology necessary,” the man replies.

“What can I….” Noelle’s voice trails when her gaze falls upon his face and the twinkle in his eye returns.

“I know it’s an odd question for a bar,” he states.

“Odd is the norm here in town,” she replies. “What’ll it be?”

“Do you have any hot chocolate?” he inquires.

Noelle’s lips twitch. “A hot chocolate?” she repeats with a raised brow.

“I know it’s not common for—”

“We have plenty of hot chocolate.” She giggles. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for now?” His eyes scan the snowflakes tattooed up her right arm that extend from her wrist to her shoulder. His gaze gets stuck on her luscious, natural lips before rising to reconnect with her sparkling blue eyes.

“I don’t mean to laugh,” she states. “I…I wasn’t making fun. It’s just—”

“Not many ask for hot chocolate?” he inquires, rolling up his sleeves.

Noelle’s head sways as a giddy feeling continues to bubble inside her. Her eyes drop and catch a glimpse of the ink covering his forearms. “No. Not that.”

He lifts a questioning brow.

“Sorry,” she says, looking away bashfully. Noelle grabs a cloth and wipes down the counter in front of him. “Would you like marshmallows?”

His lips tick up to the side.

When he doesn’t reply, Noelle looks at him. A warmth surges through her body. A sensation she’s never experienced before. Sure, any girl gets flurries in her stomach when a handsome man pays even a little bit of attention to her, but this is different and Noelle hasn’t figured out why. She’s met plenty of men who look nothing like those in Frore, especially those with dirty blonde hair like the stranger, but there’s something about him that mesmerizes her.

“You have marshmallows in a tavern?” he quips.

“It wouldn’t be hot chocolate without them,” she states with her mouth feeling dry.