by Lara Swann
I retreat back to where he’s waiting in the hallway, giving him a nod.
“Yep. This works for me.”
“Good.” He smiles, then nods toward the room. “I’ll leave you to get settled in, then.”
“Thanks.” I smile back, and he turns to go.
I fetch my suitcase from the main room, before starting to explore the cabin - and my new rooms - in a much more leisurely way, letting some of my dampened excitement start flaring back to life again. Complications aside, this still has all the potential to be a great vacation.
It’s not what I expected, sure, but I can still make the most of it.
It’s definitely going to be a very different Christmas vacation…and who knows, maybe it will end up being just the distraction I need.
Chapter Three
Tristan
After thoroughly checking over my equipment to make sure nothing was damaged by the long truck-drive here - as well as getting a little distracted by playing with a few settings I might want to use tomorrow - I venture out of my room and back into the main living area to find Lauren, my unexpected fellow guest, flicking through the binder Greg left us.
Retreating into my usual, familiar tasks was enough to ease the last of my disappointment with that situation, even if I’m still not entirely sure what to make of it. I’ve certainly dealt with far worse circumstances before - although not usually on my own dime - and it’s not hard to convince myself that the half-price discount is worth sharing the accommodation. So as long as having Lauren here too doesn’t interfere with my plans too badly, it should be fine - and from what she’s said so far, I don’t think that will be a problem. As she pointed out, we seem to have very different plans for this vacation, so we shouldn’t get in each others’ way too much.
“Hey.” Lauren looks up as she sees me come in, smiling again, in a way that makes her look even prettier than when I first saw her - her nose wrinkling and her heart-shaped face glowing slightly. It’s certainly a lot more inviting than the obvious tension and stress that had been there before, although even then seeing her forehead creasing and the pink consternation on her expressive face had been quite cute in itself.
“Hi.” I nod, moving around the couches to grab the laptop I set up on the dining table earlier. “You got settled in okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.” She says, before giving me an amused look. “And you? You can’t have gotten here that much earlier than me.”
“Yeah, that’s probably true.” I acknowledge, moving to sit down on the couch with my laptop and glancing over the top of it to where she’s kneeling on the thick rug, taking a few things out of the binder on the low table in front of her. “All good with me too - I’ve checked my gear over and nothing was too shaken up by the journey.”
Lauren gives me a curious look and I wonder whether I’m going to be answering questions about myself all evening - it’s not that I mind being pleasant and making an effort to get on while we’re both staying here, but I’m not the kind of person who enjoys sharing my business with everyone I meet either - but that’s not what she asks at all.
“I wanted to apologize about earlier.” She says, sitting back on her heels and tilting her head at me, her hair spilling across her shoulders as she gives me a slightly rueful smile. “Barging in on you and then acting all indignant that you were here at all. It wasn’t exactly my best moment.”
“Understandable though, given the circumstances.” I say, the corner of my mouth quirking up in response as I shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, I thought maybe I could buy you takeout tonight to make up for it - we could start afresh and get to know each other a little bit, since we’re going to be sharing the same space and all.” She says, holding up the takeout menus from the binder with a simple, friendly smile.
“You don’t have to—”
“No, really. I want to. Besides, it’s not like either of us have any food here.” She points out, then grins at my expression. “Yeah, I checked the fridge. Greg has left us some breakfast things and a few basics but that’s not enough for dinner, and it’s gotten too late now to go out grocery shopping. Especially in the snow.”
I blink at her cheerful summary, each point rolling out of her too fast for me to interject. I hadn’t gotten even gotten around to thinking about dinner yet, while she seems to have already investigated the kitchen and worked the whole thing out.
I’m not exactly sure what’s wrong with going shopping in the snow - I mean, I’m not sure what she expected when she decided to visit the mountains over winter - but I can’t argue that it’s getting late and we’ve both had a long day already.
“Do you think they’ll deliver all the way out here?” I ask, considering.
“I’m pretty sure - I mean, Greg left these for a reason, right? And if not, I’m pretty sure I know a cab driver who might be willing to do it.” She grins again, and I raise an eyebrow.
“You’ve been to Aspen before?”
“Nah, but Max and I go way back—I still remember that time he dropped me off from the airport like it was only a few hours ago.” She sighs for affect, before grinning again, totally unperturbed by the odd look I’m giving her. She’s not at all like she seemed earlier - now that the obvious stress of the situation is gone, the slightly uptight woman I was expecting has become almost bubbly.
“Seriously though, he was a great guy.” She continues, apparently not noticing my bemusement. “Very friendly. I’ve got his card somewhere—but like I said, don’t think it will be necessary.”
“Well, if you want to buy me dinner, I’m not going to object too much.” I say when I eventually get the chance, looking at her with amusement.
“Great!” She gets up in one smooth movement, coming over to hand me the leaflets. “What are you in the mood for?”
“I don’t mind.” I say, flicking through them idly as she leans her hip against the arm of the couch and glances at them over my shoulder. “D’you have any preferences?”
“Not pizza.”
I raise an eyebrow at that, but discard the two pizza leaflets without objection. I don’t mind much either way…
“Ooh.” I pause as something catches my eye. “Do you like sushi?”
I hold up the leaflet - complete with Greg’s ‘highly recommended’ note scrawled across the top - and pass it over to her.
“Oh, nice. I haven’t had sushi in ages.”
“Me neither and since I was supposed to be in Japan anyway right about now…”
“Wait, really? Japan?! What are you doing here then?” She asks, looking up from the menu in surprise.
“It was a work trip.” I say with a shrug. “Got canceled about a month ago.”
“You were going to work over Christmas?” She says, her tone full of totally misplaced sympathy.
I just laugh, shaking my head. “You don’t need to look at me like that. I was hoping to - but they couldn’t find anything else for me to do at with that short notice, so I decided to come out here instead.”
I’ve never understood the fascination some people have with the holiday season or all the importance that seems to be placed upon it. A couple of low-key celebrations have always been enough for me—and after the way those ended a couple of years ago, I’d rather just skip the whole thing now.
Being able to work through the holidays last year had been exactly what I’d needed, but this year was rougher on the magazine and the budget I’d been hoping to get for my trip ended up getting cut. Nothing I could do about it - though perhaps next year, I’ll suggest a less ambitious feature article. Something a little closer to home.
“Mm, if you say so.” Lauren doesn’t sound at all convinced by the idea I actually wanted to work, but she shrugs it off with a smile. “Well anyway, sushi it is then - let’s make up for your lost trip to Japan. Just so long as you don’t judge me for wanting to get this soup as well as the sushi. Having something warming to curl up inside with in the middle of all this sn
ow—although, ooh, actually this teriyaki looks good too…”
“We can share a few different things, if you like.” I suggest, immediately enjoying the way her eyes light up.
We start debating the different options back and forth and by the time we’re done we end up ordering far too much food, but it’s the start of our vacation and we just got half our money back from the cabin, so having a few tasty leftovers sounds good to both of us. I insist on splitting it too, otherwise I’d just feel guilty about how much we’re ordering - though I do let her buy the bottle of wine she suggests.
We place the order, relieved to find they have no problem delivering all the way up here - I guess they’re used to it from all Greg’s guests - and Lauren flops back onto the other couch when we’re finished.
“Phew.” She lets the phone drop down beside her, sighing contentedly. “All done. It’ll be about an hour.”
“Good thing you suggested it when you did, then.” I say, glancing around to see it’s now fully dark outside. “I definitely would have left it late enough that I’d be starving by the time it got here.”
“I’m guilty of doing that too.” She admits, then pushes herself up with a smile. “But this way, we have time to get a proper fire going first.”
I raise an eyebrow as she turns toward the fireplace.
“You’re really into all this…cabin stuff…huh?”
“I mean, that is why I picked the place.” She throws a glance over her shoulder. “Aren’t you?”
I shrug. “It’s nice enough, I guess, but I’m not exactly cold. I wouldn’t say we needed a fire.”
“Hmph.” She mutters, kneeling in front of the fireplace and apparently not the slightest bit interested in whether I want a fire. Not that I really mind, but the way she jumps between trying to start again with consideration and respect to just doing what she wants is a little amusing. “That is absolutely not the point of it.”
“Right. That’s why we invented fire way back when - for aesthetics and the right vibe - and definitely not, say, for warmth and food.”
She gives me an exasperated look and starts sorting out the wood and materials Greg has left us.
“If you get too hot, just take some clothes off.” She says absently. “It’ll be cozier like that anyway.”
“And here I was thinking that you didn’t appreciate me walking around half-naked earlier.” I say mildly.
“I—that—that’s not what I meant!” She stutters, heat spreading across her face as she gets flustered. “I just meant—like—your sweater or something!”
I just laugh, turning back to my laptop with a small smirk. There’s something about Lauren that makes it difficult to resist provoking her - it’s just too much fun not to, despite what a surprise that is. I might have stayed in plenty of shared accommodation over the years, but I don’t usually find myself engaging much with the other occupants. Everyone is careful to maintain a professional distance and stay out of each others’ way. Lauren however - with her festive enthusiasm and her obvious intention to get everything she wants out of this vacation whether I’m here or not - is nothing like any of them.
Who knows, though. Maybe it will work better this way…if her slight lack of boundaries and obvious interest in getting to know each other doesn’t get too much, anyway.
The novelty is a bit of fun for now…let’s just hope it doesn’t get old before the end of the holidays.
As I listen to Lauren spend the next twenty minutes cursing at the fire while stubbornly refusing my offer of help, that smirk still playing at the corners of my mouth, my concerns about that slowly shrink.
She’s different, sure…but I can’t say I’m not enjoying it.
“Are you sure you don’t want help with that?” I ask again, after the fire flickers out for the fifth time.
“No.” She says defensively, sounding more than a little put out. “I can do it.”
I shrug, turning back to my laptop. If only I could concentrate on the photos I’m supposed to be editing…
There’s another match strike from behind me, then another sigh before she finally sits back on her heels in defeat.
“Okay, fine.” She says, defeated. “Maybe I do need a little help.”
I glance over, expecting to see her looking resentful and irritated—and then surprised again to find a wry smile on her face.
“If you’re still willing?” She asks hopefully, in an appropriately repentant tone.
“Sure.” I say, laughing slightly as I move the laptop and stand up to walk over, kneeling beside her.
She shifts over to make room, but with both of us bending over to look at the fire together we’re close enough that there’s only inches separating us. As I take the tongs from her and lean forward to start shifting the dying remains of the fire, I can’t help noticing the sudden proximity - or the way she jumps slightly when I brush against her, flushing and giving me a half-smile as she looks at me askance. It takes me a moment to return my focus to the fire and when I do, I frown.
“Wait…did you just put a load of paper in here or something?” I ask, the movements of my poker creating a cloud of ash as everything except two barely-charred logs disintegrates.
“And the logs.” She points out unnecessarily. “But they didn’t seem to catch.”
“Yeah. No doubt.”
“I thought it would be simple.” She says, sounding more amused than frustrated about that now that I’ve come over to help her.
“You’ve never started a fire before?”
She considers for a moment, the tilt of her head giving me the answer a moment before she does herself. “I don’t think so. I can’t remember starting one, anyway.”
“Right.” I say, forgoing the fireproof mitt to take the two logs out with my hands. There’s no way this fire ever got hot enough to burn me. “Well, there’s a bit more to it than just putting wood and paper in here and lighting a match.”
“Mmhm.” She nods, leaning over as I start laying out kindling carefully.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” I say, giving her a sidelong glance.
“Yeah, but I want to learn too.”
“I really don’t mind doing it—” I begin, slightly taken aback.
“Sure, but what am I supposed to do if you’re not here? C’mon, if there’s ‘more to it’ than simply lighting some paper and wood, then you can show me.” She says, then shakes her head and mutters. “Honestly, what’s with guys and wanting there to be some kind of mystique about this stuff?”
“Okay, okay.” I give in, smiling despite myself. “That wasn’t what I meant. I just thought with the food about to arrive—never mind. Look, you just have to set it out in a way that allows the flames to breathe - layer it and leave space underneath, like this…”
I start building the fire, feeling her close behind me the whole time as I explain the process and how to make it hot enough for the log to catch. At first, I notice every time her breath whispers across my skin and I’m half-distracted by her hair falling across her shoulder, but as we get absorbed in setting up the fire the sharpness of that awareness fades and we slowly become more comfortable with the proximity.
“See?” I finally say, sitting back with a flourish as we watch the newly-lit fire start to burn. “No mystique at all.”
“Yep. Thanks, Tristan. I guess it wasn’t that complicated after all.” She grins at me. “I’ll light the next one, too. Just to make sure I’ve got it.”
“Sure.” I say, standing up and offering her a hand, to which she shakes her head.
“Thanks, but I’ll stay and watch it for a few moments…” She gives it a suspicious glance. “Just in case.”
“Suit yourself.” I say, smirking slightly. “I’ll see what I can find in the kitchen, for when the food gets here.”
She nods distractedly and my gaze lingers for a small moment, admiring the slender shape of her back and the way her hair curls down it, before turning towards the kitchen.
She’s prettier than most of the people you’ve been stuck sharing with before, too.
It’s an idle thought, more amusing in its impossibility than anything else, but I enjoy it regardless. No reason not to appreciate the positives of this situation for what they are, after all.
I’m more successful than I expect in the kitchen, which is far more well-stocked than I expected.
“Look at this.” I say as I come out. “There’s even a wine bucket in here—and ice in the freezer too! I had a fair amount of trouble finding the plates, but this was in the first cupboard I opened.”
Lauren laughs. “I guess Greg has his priorities right. I bet plenty of people come here for a romantic getaway.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, that smirk tugging at my mouth again. “A romantic getaway, hmm?”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get any ideas.” She says, giving me a stern look that doesn’t quite manage to hide the sparkle in her eyes. “It’s bad luck that we’re here together, nothing else. Although…that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a few of the amenities intended for other purposes.”
She strides forward, taking the wine bucket from me with satisfaction and setting it on the table, murmuring to herself. “Maybe I should order in some champagne…”
“You’ve got something to celebrate?” I ask, as I set out the crockery and place mats I’ve found too.
“Christmas?” Lauren points out, in a tone that says that’s obvious. “Being on vacation? Not that anyone ever needs a reason for champagne…”
“Hah, okay, if you say so.”
“Hey—no judgment.” She retorts, then levels an unexpectedly serious look in my direction. “In fact, lets make that ground rule number one for our stay here. We both booked a vacation out here alone and - I don’t know about you - but for me part of the whole appeal was being able to relax in whatever way I wanted. No one watching, no stress, no judgment—and I’m not planning on changing that now. So I won’t judge you for—for all your random equipment or whatever else—and you don’t judge me if all I want to do is stay inside and watch crap TV, or read all day, or do dumb jigsaw puzzles…okay?”