Page 10 of The Christmas Eve Delivery

“Where the fuck is my phone?” I asked the empty room.

And then I remembered exactly where it was. Resting on the center console of the rental and plugged into the charger. I hadn’t trusted the built-in GPS to get me back here without exploring the back roads it had taken me on when I had tried to leave town the first time. So I had used the GPS in my phone.

It was a good thing I had. The amount of snow had essentially run me off the road at a point where I could see the small downtown area. If I had gotten trapped in the backwoods… A shiver of imagined cold danced down my spine. I wasn’t about to go back out in the storm to track down my cell phone. I knew exactly where it was, and it wasn’t going anywhere soon.

I could go downstairs in a bit and see if that curvy innkeeper would let me use her computer. Damn it, no, I couldn’t. Her computer was down. Maybe in the morning.

I sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at my feet. The leather of my shoes was spotted with large water stains. They were basically ruined. And my socks were wet. I wiggled my toes the best I could within the confines of my shoes. At least I could feel my toes. That could have been a disaster.

I kicked off the shoes and placed them and my socks in front of the radiator.

The room was warm enough that stripping down to my boxers wasn’t an issue. I spread my slacks out so the wet cuffs were closer to the radiator and could also dry.

Crawling into the bed, I clicked on the TV. It powered on just fine, but there was no signal anywhere. Right, the computer downstairs was offline. Whatever internet connection she had probably also ran the television programming.

I turned the TV off and tossed the remote onto the side table. No TV, no phone. Maybe there was a pad of paper and a pen in this place and I could get some of my thoughts about Brookdale written down. I rummaged in the various drawers in the room until I found a Sweet Mountain Inn branded notepad and a cheap pen.

Armed with some basic tools, I sat back down in the bed and poised the pen over the pad of paper. What were my thoughts on this town? Suddenly, it was as if I had no thoughts. I was pissed about the snowstorm. I was aggravated over the travel arrangements. But mostly, I was distracted by that woman downstairs.

Her mouth, those lips. She had long, silken hair that I wanted to twist up in my fists. Her body was all curves and softness. She would not be merely warm to wrap around. She would be hot. So hot. My groin tightened as I thought about her. I should at least find out her name if thoughts of her promised sexy dreams tonight.

Maybe tomorrow.

With the amount of snow that dropped in such a short amount of time, it could be days before all of it melted. I might be stuck for days. That wasn’t such a bad idea. It would give me plenty of time to get to know her.

There was no way she was Jackson’s vicious pit viper. No, the woman downstairs was entirely too sweet to have been the same person.

The next morning, after a rather long and boring night, I got dressed and made my way back downstairs to the lobby. Through the front windows I could see that snow was still drifting down. At least it no longer fell in the heavy blanket that buried the region the night before. It was gray and freezing out. The massive piles and drifts on the ground were a testament to a long and nasty night of bad weather.

Cold seeped in around the edges of the window casing. I rubbed my arms and stepped back into the area where there was stillheat. It was a miracle my room had stayed as warm as it had if the larger public areas couldn’t hold the heat in.

A soft muttering broke the silence of the world covered in snow. I turned to see the innkeeper push into a sitting position on one of the couches in front of the fireplace. It was one of those old-fashioned, camel-backed styles, and slightly shabby.

She rubbed her face and let out a big yawn. “Oh, I’m sorry. You must be looking for breakfast. What time is it?”

I shrugged. “No idea. My watch lost power sometime last night, and my phone is an ice cube back in my rental car. Did you sleep down here?”

With more yawns, she crossed the lobby and started a pot of coffee. She then crossed to the computer and tapped at the keyboard, mumbling something about it still being down.

“I’ll be right back. I’ll go get the breakfast pastries. I didn’t have anything already set up.” Her hips swayed as she walked away. I followed like a puppy hoping to find a snack. I already found the snack. At this point, I hoped she’d let me get a bite of her.

“You know, I didn’t get your name last night,” I said.

“I’m Lydia.”

“So, Lydia, the owners wouldn’t have let you sleep on a bed last night?”

She paused and smiled at me. “I am the owner. I wanted to be available in case someone else made it through.”

“How very big-hearted of you.”

“Here,” she said as she shoved a box of Danishes into my arms. “Help me carry these back out front.”

“You know, I can be helpful in other ways too,” I said.

“Oh, yeah? How?”

“I can take a look at that broken lock, for one. Or I can replace it, if you have a replacement part already. That’s the kind of thing hotels keep, right?”

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