Page 5 of Snowed in at Santa's Lodge
“Really? Never?”
He shook his head. “Never. I use up what I have available. I have things in the freezer, but I never waste food. It’s a steadfast rule up here. Since I can’t get to the store most of the winter, I make sure to be a good steward of what I have.”
“A good stew steward.” Goddess, I really needed to shut up.
“That’s good. Yeah. Something like that. You’ll see.”
I nodded, ignoring the fact that he assumed I would be here for more than one round of stew.
I wanted to be here for more than one meal.
I’d never been so attracted to someone like this, to the point where I wanted to forget everything, take my clothes off, and offer myself to him—immediately. He could be my Santa and I’d gladly sit on his lap and tell him what I wanted most.
Chapter Five
Ragnar
I’d hesitated before offering to have him stay with me, mostly because my quarters were not exactly suited for company. Granddad’s furniture had been pretty beat, and I’d brought in some of mine from the city, but only enough for the barest of bachelor living. As in, only one bed. Of course, I’d assumed that by the time I had anyone in to spend the night, I’d have quite a few rooms at my disposal. And extras like rollaway beds.
But what choice did I have but to share my space? Not one other room in this lodge was in shape for company, but we’d work something out. His other option, freezing to death in his car, held no appeal for me and surely not for him. We sat in front of the fire until the logs I’d added burned down then I stood up and stretched. “Unless you want me to add another log or two, bedtime comes early around here most nights.”
“I’m all for getting some rest,” he said around a yawn. “Just show me where I sleep.”
“About that,” I said. “I only have one bed, but I promise I don’t bite.”
“That’s a shame,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I said I am to blame, meaning for you having to put yourself out for me.” Either my shifter hearing was not working well, or someone was fibbing. And adorable.
“You were just trying to drive down the road to your destination. Nobody’s to blame except maybe Mother Nature. I’m embarrassed not to be able to offer you a room with all the amenities, but I’ll make up for it when the lodge is open, if you’re willing to give us a chance after seeing the shape we’re in now.”
“Of course, if I can, but for tonight, I’m not willing to put you out any more than I already have. So, if you’ll give me a blanket, I’ll just curl up here on the couch and be fine.”
“I don’t think you’d be fine there. It’s a couch in name only, really more of a love seat.”
He strolled around the couch, studying it from all angles as if he could find an angle where he could actually stretch out and be comfortable. Which he could not. I just stood back and watched, waiting for him to accept that. “I guess the sofa won’t work. But I can roll up in blankets on the rug in front of the hearth. The coals should throw heat for a while. It will be fine.”
“I’d really rather you didn’t. Makes me feel like a terrible host.”
We went back and forth for a few minutes in a flurry of politeness. He didn’t want me to be uncomfortable; I couldn’t possibly be comfortable with my guest on the floor. Well, he’d try the sofa. No—he’d end up permanently pretzeled.
In the end, he insisted on sleeping on the hearth rug, and laid a fluffy quilt on the rug then soft cotton sheets and more quilts on top. My very best down pillow and a firmer one as well in case he preferred that. And I stopped myself from tucking him in because well, because he didn’t ask me to.
With my reindeer kicking up sharp, stinging hooves in protest, I crawled into my cozy bed. It was big and comfy with plenty of room for both of us even if he wanted a valley in between. He never needed to be anywhere near me—unless he chose to be.
But I’d never been the kind of alpha who pushed people around. I’d seen that kind of behavior in action, and nobody should be treated that way. For their own good or any other reason. Unfortunately, this alpha was unable to drift peacefully off to sleep with his omega on the floor, so I lay on myside, watching as he tossed and turned, murmuring, clearly not sleeping well.
He couldn’t be cold with the number of covers I’d set him up with and the coals still glowing in the fireplace, but the old oak floors had little give in them. I should have cushioned his bedding more.
Waking him to ask how he was sleeping or argue about getting in bed would not be kind. Or smart. So I stayed where I was, wishing he was here next to me but grateful that my fated was under my roof. I could make him breakfast and talk. I wanted to know everything about him, no matter how small the details. I didn’t even know where he was going when he stopped here, just that he was heading over the mountain. How long would the storm hold him here with me? Tucking my phone under the covers, I tried to check the weather app only to find I had zero bars. Not uncommon up here, but it meant I didn’t know how long I had to spend with my omega in hopes that he would recognize our bond in whatever way a human understood it.
Would a day be enough? A week?
Surely Fate couldn’t be so cruel as to give me a mate who could just wander off and never know we were meant to be together? His scent filled my nostrils, a sweet, clean aroma like pine and fresh mountain air and everything Christmas. It was as if I’d always known what he smelled like, or maybe the scent was in my DNA to recognize?
Who knew what the mysteries of mating really came down to. All I knew was that my mate was here and it was up to me to take it from this point if I wanted him to stay. I must have dozed because I woke at the rustle of sheets and opened my eyes to see Aspen climbing out of his nest on the floor. He knelt there a moment, the last of the fire’s glow making him a dark shadowyform while he pushed to his feet. Was he coming here? Had he changed his mind about sharing the bed with me?
