Page 1 of Under the Mistletoe
Cody,North Dakota.
Going back to my hometown after all this time will bestrange. Ten years ago, I bought a one-way ticket to New York and haven’tlooked back. Until now. If my parents weren’t still there, I would have stayedaway permanently. Over the years, they’ve always come to visit me, but never atChristmas. I’ve been able to avoid the small town where I grew up, but theguilt of disappointing my folks yet again, got to me this year. The joy in mymom’s voice when I gave her the news was enough to make this trip worthwhile.It’s not that I don’t like the town, there are just too many memories; memoriesof the life I traded for the one I have now. I only hope I’m strong enough toface them.
I slow my rental down when the snow makes visibilitydifficult. I’m about an hour from the small ranch I used to call home, and thisis going to make things worse. Using the voice dial feature on my phone, I callmy parents.
“Hello? Sydney?”
“Hi, Mom. I just called to say I might be a bit late. I justleft the airport, but the snow’s really coming down.”
“Oh, honey, be careful. Stop if you need to until it easesup.”
“I will. Where’s Dad?”
“Sitting in front of the TV, as usual, waiting for dinner.”
“What are you making?” Mom’s cooking is one of the fewthings I’ll enjoy about being home.
“I made your winter-time favorite—beef stew. There may alsobe some apple pies in the oven.”
My stomach growls.
“Oh, God, I can’t wait to get there. That sounds amazing,Mom.”
“Okay, Sydney. Be careful. I’m so glad you’re coming home.”
“Me, too. I’ll see you later.”
Blowing out an exasperated breath, I soldier on. By the timeI pass the “Welcome to Cody” sign, the sun has called it a day. Without itslight, I can only see a few feet ahead of me. I keep going for as long as I canbefore I pull over on what I think is the side of the road. The snow isn’t comingdown too hard, but there are no street lights and the roads are completelycovered, so I think it’s safest not to continue. Seems like I might have totake Mom’s advice. Looking around, I try to figure out where I am. There’s no signalon my phone, but if my GPS is right, I’m far enough into town that I’ll knowsomeone around here. However, I don’t see any lights.
Grabbing a chocolate bar and a bottle of water from mybackpack, I settle into the heated seat and turn up my audiobook. The malenarrator has one of the sexiest voices I’ve ever heard, and I can’t wait to getto the steamy scenes. He has that deep, raspy rumble thing going on that givesmy lady parts the hiccups. Then again, maybe it’s not such a good idea to getmyself all worked up while I’m stranded in a snowstorm. I glance out the windowand spot what I think is a light in the distance.
Thank God.
It’s not too far away, but with the weather, it will be abit of a trek to get there. I weigh my options, deciding it’s better thansitting out here for God knows how long. Searching the glove compartment, Ifind a flashlight. I bundle up in my coat, scarf, beanie, and gloves, then grabmy bag and brace for the cold. The frosty wind hits me in the face the moment Iopen the door. Resisting the urge to stay in the warmth of the SUV, I hop out.I keep my eye on the light, hoping it doesn’t go out before I get to it. As Imove forward, I miss the SUV more and more. My nose burns from the cold, and isprobably bright red by now, turning me into a human Rudolph. I fight againstthe howling wind, its sound blocking out everything else to my equally burningears. To keep my mind off the cold, I concentrate on the faint scent of burningwood in the distance. Fireplaces. What I wouldn’t do to be in front of oneright now.
About halfway to the house, the snow gets knee-deep. Mythigh muscles burn from the exertion of having to take higher steps, but I keepgoing, leaning forward in an effort to prevent myself from being blown away.Being stuck in the SUV is more appealing than ever.God, please don’t let mefreeze to death out here. What the hell was I thinking?
The Big Man seems to be listening tonight because I make itto the house with the light shining brightly through the window.
“He… hello?” I call out, banging my numb fingers on thedoor.
It opens seconds later, and my brown eyes meet steely blue. Theyopen wide in shock, no doubt mirroring my own. Shock turns to annoyance, thendownright anger. If I wasn’t already freezing my buns off, that stare would havedone the trick.
Jake Maston.
Christ. Just my luck I’d end up on his doorstep.
“What are you doing out there?” he snaps. “Get in.”
Somehow I get my feet to move and slip by him. Sniffling, Ihurry to the fireplace to the left, distracting myself until I can figure outwhat to say.
“Well, this is certainly a surprise.”
I slowly turn to face him, keeping my eyes on his chest. Achest that seems broader and more developed than the last time I saw it…touched it.
“Sorry to drop in like this.” My voice is weak, and I don’tknow why. He shouldn’t be having this effect on me. “I was on my way home… gotstuck in the storm. I saw your light and figured I could wait it out with aneighbor. I… I didn’t know this was your place.”
“Humph,” he grunts. “Warm up. I just made a pot of coffee.I’ll get you a cup.”
