A Muse Her

Chapter 1

There she was.

Like clockwork.

Gracing Crested Cups with her bubbly disposition to pick up her daily raspberry mocha latte and blueberry muffin.

Maia Jefferies.

The painfully beautiful best selling novelist.

She greeted the few patrons with her infectious smile and cheerful banter as if she were a celebrity in this sleepy snow swept town.

And she was, in a sense.

For many of the Crested Butte locals, she was the only remotely famous person they'd ever had the pleasure of knowing and he had the awful sense to have a crush on.

Maia took off her yellow wooly hat and brushed her thick black curls from her russet cheeks and his heart thumped when her gorgeous brown eyes swept over him. A blush burned over his cheeks as he looked down at the book in his hands hoping he masked the fact that he'd been watching her.

"Mateo," Maia said, shrugging off her coat and slipping into the unoccupied seat across from him. "You're just the man I want to see."

"Am I?" he said, looking over the top of his book and wishing his pounding heart would calm down. "Does it have anything to do with that generator you want me to fix?"

"No, but you're still coming over to fix it, right?" she said, peeling off the paper around her muffin. "I don't mind being snowed in, but I need power to write."

"And eat," he said, eyeing the muffin in her hand. "You can't live off coffee and muffins."

Maia rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to waste away," she said, patting her stomach that was barely noticeable beneath her chunky green sweater. "And what do you know about how much I eat?"

Mateo raised an eyebrow. "Did you forget I fixed your sink the other day? I saw all your muffin wrappers and pile of coffee cups. There wasn't a single dirty plate or pan in that cottage or any food in your fridge," he scoffed. "I checked."

She pursed her plump lips. "Coffee, muffins and a big 'ol blunt keeps me focused on writing," she said, sighing. "Well, they used to," she muttered, eyeing the book he was reading. "And that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I have another favor to ask of you."

"You want me to fix some other appliance of yours? Because I'm sure your fireplace could do with a clean out."

"No." She giggled, slapping her hand on his arm. " It's something else."

Maia was like that. She was a touchy-feely kind of woman. Always happy to give out a hug or a gentle touch and the warmth of her gestures never failed to send a tingle down his spine.

"But if you're offering to clean it out, I won't say no."

Mateo looked at her hand and her berry pink manicured nails resting on his arm before he looked up at her. "I'll do it."

He probably shouldn't.

There was a reason he didn't get close to too many people in this town, but for Maia, he'd do just about anything to stay in her orbit.

"Seriously? I feel like I'm taking up all your time with all my maintenance requests," she said, pulling her hand away from him to rub a cluster of curls between her fingers. That was a little quirk he noticed about her whenever she was deep in thought about something. "I really should've hired someone to take care of all of that before I came out here."

"It's not a problem. I keep telling you I'm happy to look after your cottage when you're gone." He shrugged, closing the book in his hand. "We're neighbors, you know."