by Marlie May
The road resembled the ski trails we’d left behind, a long swath of white stretching ahead. Around us, the wall of snow met dense forest. We’d seen no other cars. Everyone must’ve wisely chosen to remain home.
I didn’t regret this trip with Cara, though. In fact, I’d give my right arm to make our evening last longer, to show her she could believe in me again.
But I did regret endangering our lives.
“There.” She pointed ahead, toward my side of the road.
The car crept closer, and I took in the sign that slowly became visible.
Woodland Adventures. Cabins. And, underneath: vacancy.
I turned into the drive and leaned forward, squinting through the windshield. A two-story building appeared on our left with a small sign, Office, dangling from a pole, with an arrow pointing toward the front door. I parked right in front and turned off the engine. No need to worry about blocking traffic. Only the Abominable Snowman would be moving around tonight.
While we unbuckled, Cara gave me a tight smile. “Another adventure, eh, Roan?”
“At least we’re not lost.”
Her face eased. “So you say.”
We got out and clomped through the almost ten inches of snow on what I hoped was the walkway.
A gray-haired woman dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans, with a high, tight bun, opened the door before I could knock. “Can’t park there,” she said gruffly.
I’d turned to move the vehicle—though I had no idea where else I’d put it—when she clapped me on the back.
“Ha, was just foolin’ witcha.” She stepped back with a grin and waved us inside. “Come on in. You’re lettin’ the heat out. What do you think this is? A barn?”
A house, but…The enormous pig waddling past the sofa, coming our way, snout twitching while it emitted soft grunts, suggested otherwise. The pig picked up speed when it saw Cara, its cloven hooves thundering on the wooden planks as it rushed her.
Cara gasped and put her hands out as if that would slow the beast down. She stepped closer to me, almost climbing up my side. But the animal slowed and tentatively sniffed her thigh, jowls waggling, before huffing softly.
“Huh.” Cara released her death-grip on my arm and stooped down to scratch the pig’s neck. Its sides. While the creature’s curly tail wiggled. “Aren’t you a cutie pie?”
The pig closed its eyes and sighed.
“Now, Sweetpea,” the woman said. “Leave that poor woman alone.” She grabbed the animal’s bright pink collar and hauled it back a few steps. “My name’s Dorothy.”
And we were in Oz. Or pig heaven, if the way Sweetpea was going at a tin bowl on a plastic mat by the door was anything to go by.
“Cara, Roan,” I said.
“What brings you folks out to Woodland Adventures on such a bad night?” Dorothy peered around us, through the door’s window. She shook her head. “No one out tonight but demons or elves.”
“We were looking for a cabin?” Preferably one without a resident pig. Or a demon or elf, for that matter.
“Got three altogether, but only one cabin’s open.”
Cara lifted her brows and darted a nervous look at me. “One?”
“’Cause of the storm,” Dorothy said. “Ski party canceled.” Her lips pursed and she braced her fists on her hips. “Without givin’ twenty-four-hour-notice. Land sakes, but some people just—”
“We’ll take it,” Cara said.
“I assume you two are married.” Dorothy’s intent scowl suggested we’d find ourselves on our asses in a snowbank if we suggested otherwise.
Cara linked her arm through mine and curled her lips sweetly. “Sure are.”
“Decent enough, then.” Dorothy pulled on a coat, hat, and gloves and stuffed her wool stockinged feet into tall boots. She snagged a ring with a key from a peg beside the door. “Come with me, then, folks. I’ll get you settled down in no time.”
When Dorothy turned the knob, Sweetpea charged the door. But she kneed him—her—to the side. As much as anyone could guide a pig when a pig was on a mission.
“Not you,” Dorothy said. “I’m not toweling you off again tonight. You’re stayin’ inside.” She waved for us to leave the house ahead of her and then pushed Sweetpea’s straining snout back inside before shutting the door. “You can leave your car there. It’s off to the side enough to be out of the way of my plow guy, come mornin’.” She paused on the walk. “Bags?”
“We only stopped because of the storm,” Cara said. “What we’re wearing is it.”
“No problem, then,” Dorothy said. “There are mini toiletries in the bathroom you’re welcome to use. I stock toothbrushes, too, just in case.”
We wouldn’t need anything else.
We followed her around the side of her house and along the hint of a path behind, toward three gingerbread style cabins that looked suited for Grimm’s fairytales. Since we already had a pig, we only needed two more to complete the story. I had a feeling those two pigs might be around here somewhere. For all I knew, they slept in the other cabins.
The only difference between the buildings were the colorful symbols above the door. A crown hung above one, and a clipper ship hung above the other.
After Dorothy unlocked the cabin on the far right, the one with a red heart above the door, she thrust it open. While it banged against the interior wall, she bustled forward into the dark. “There, there. This’ll be perfect. I’ll have it nice and cozy for you two in a flash.” Removing her gloves, she hurried to our left while I shut the door, blocking out the night and the falling snow. Not that it was much brighter inside. The cabin had electricity, didn’t it?
Muted light filtered through the lace curtains covering windows on each of the side walls. Other than a dark, mounded structure ahead, I couldn’t see the back of the room.
Dorothy stooped down and sparked a match. Ah, a fireplace. “Place is heated, of course, but I think a fire adds just the right touch, don’t you?”
“Lovely.” Cara hovered beside me, her eyes drawn to the spark that captured the crumpled newspaper underneath the logs. It soon caught, and a bright glow filled the room.
“A fire’s romantic, and I’m all about marketing my place as a true destination.” Dorothy stepped back, brushing bits of wood off her hands. She tilted her head our way. “I’ve never been married, but I read. And I have a decent imagination.”
I did not want to go there, but I had a sneaking suspicion there was already here.
While the flickering flames reflected gold on her lined face, she waved to the left wall. “Lamp’s over there if you need it. Otherwise, I’ll just leave you two to it, then.” She handed me the key and stomped back outside.
The fire grew, lighting up the room.
Highlighting a red, heart-shaped bed nestled against the back wall.
Cara
This was going to be interesting.
The crown and clipper ship above the other cabin doors now made sense. Royalty and pirate themes inside, perhaps?
We’d “lucked” into the Valentine suite. The last place I’d ever expected to find myself stuck overnight with Roan.
Turning my back to the bed, I rushed over to the fire, pretending I was cold. When, in reality, I flamed inside. A bed with Roan. This was going to be a problem.
Roan came up beside me. “I’ll take the floor.”
“I can take the floor. No reason gallantry always has to come from the man.” A hardwood floor, without a rug, would not ensure a good night’s sleep. Not that I expected I’d sleep, anyway. Stressed from the drive, plus the uncertainty of my situation with Roan would keep me on edge.
“Well, we both don’t need to sleep on the floor.”
Call me out of my mind, but I said, “Don’t worry about it. We’ll share the bed.” Crossing the room, I ran my fingertips across the bedspread. Silky. Great. I could only hope the sheets were plain cotton.
“I— You sure that’s okay?”
I turned to face hi
m, planning to read whatever I could from his expression, but he faced the fireplace, hands outstretched to take in the warmth. “We’re friends, right? Not much different than when we shared a tent as teenagers.” Mostly. Other than the little fact that we’d each had our own sleeping bag and we’d been young enough to live blissfully unaware of each other outside of friendship.
“I guess you’re right.” He turned, but I still couldn’t read him in shadow. But the flames did outline his solid build.
We really needed to turn on a lamp.
“No reason for either of us to be uncomfortable,” I said. I’d find a way to control myself because it was doubtful Roan would notice I was lying beside him.
That thought hurt. It shouldn’t, but there it was. Despite my intention to stick to my vow, my heart was melting all on its own.
Stupid heart.
“You want the bathroom first?” I asked.
“Being gallant again?”
I huffed, just pretend irritation, because I grinned, too. “Not if it means we’re sharing a toothbrush.”
He chuckled. “You first, then.”
I scooted into the bathroom. Inside, I clicked on the light, braced my hands on the cold, porcelain sink, and stared at my reflection. Red cheeks. Hopefully, he’d blame that on the flames. If he noticed.
Dark brown hair in its usual disarray.
Plus, a hint of vulnerability in my eyes. That look would have to take a hike. I was strong, able to handle this.
My appearance shouldn’t matter, anyway. This was not a romantic rendezvous, despite the bed. We were two buds camping together.
But it sure felt romantic.
“Stop,” I whispered. “You do not want Roan.”
Just keep telling yourself that and you’ll do fine, “bud”.
I found a couple of toothbrushes and a tiny tube of paste on a shelf in the closet. After brushing and doing a quick wash, I was ready to share a bed with Roan.
I’d never be ready to share a bed with Roan.
Maybe I could fall asleep before he finished in the bathroom.
When I emerged, Roan was stooped down in front of the fireplace, piling pieces of wood onto the flames, stoking it for the night.
“All set?” he said, rising.
“It’s all yours. I’ll, uh, be under the covers when you come out. Probably asleep.”
“Okay. I’ll be quiet.” He padded toward the bathroom, brushing past me, leaving his heady scent behind.
Someone knocked on the door, and I opened it.
“Since you have no luggage, I thought these might come in handy.” Dorothy handed me a folded pile of clothing.
“Thank you.”
She smiled and winked. “Night, night. Don’t let the possibilities bite.”
Blinking fast, I shut the door, determined not to think about what she considered possible.
No possibilities in this room tonight.
I dropped the garments onto the bed, held one up, and snickered. A flannel granny nightgown for me. Obviously, Dorothy’s imagination needed an overhaul. Or she should read steamier romance novels.
As for Roan?
Oh, my. I hooted softly. This should be fun.
With the garment draped over my arm, I strode to the bathroom and rapped on the wooden door.
Roan stuck his head out. “Yeah?”
I held the garment toward him. “Dorothy stopped by with nightwear.” After he took it, his brow furrowing as he stared at it, I shut the door shut, calling out, “Stay in there until I say I’m ready.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” he said gruffly.
Obviously, he’d checked out his new outfit.
“I think you’ll look better in that than in your boxers.”
A total lie. The only way Roan could look better than in his boxers was without them.
I tugged off my clothing, leaving on my undies, and pulled the nightgown over my head. The bottom ruffle skimmed the floor. Full sleeves, lacy collar, and buttons all the way up to my chin. The 1800s at their best. It was a wonder our species found a way through all this fluff to propagate.
I climbed beneath the covers, unsure I’d truly need them since I’d be sleeping in a flannel blanket already.
With the satin sheets and coverlet pulled up to my chin, I lifted my voice. “I’m ready.” I needed to stop thinking about this situation in those terms.
The door swung wide, the light went out, and Roan appeared.
Only a hand slapped over my mouth held in my shriek.
An all-in-one, red onesie suited Roan nicely. It highlighted his build. Every damn speck of it.
Sigh. How could he look sexy in something like that? I’d thought it would downplay his charms, but no such luck.
“Turn around,” I said. “I want to see the buttoned back flap.” When he did, my full laugh rang out.
Roan strode across the room, making my heart jump. It shot into overdrive when he climbed onto the bed, crawled toward me, and braced his arms on either side of my shoulders, his knees on each side of my hips. “Don’t think that twenty-eight is too old for tickling.”
I’d called a halt to his tickling at sixteen. Roan’s hands on my waist awakened…feelings. The same feelings that poured through me now.
I bumped up to nudge him off. He felt too good, but I couldn’t let myself enjoy it.
Dropping back, he landed on his back. Rubbed his face. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” I rose up onto my elbow to face him and smiled. “This is a hoot, isn’t it?”
His teeth flashed white in the firelight. “Who would’ve thought we’d end up here.”
“In a heart-shaped bed.”
“Me in a Santa suit.”
“Looking cute.”
He snorted. “Yeah.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You wearing a matching suit?”
“I’ve been visited by the ghost of Christmas past.”
“Flannel for the win?”
“Every time.” I dropped back onto my side and stroked my fingertip along the satin sheets. Firelight flickered on the walls, and my eyelids grew heavy.
Roan yawned.
“Thanks for a fun day,” I said. “Even if it didn’t end the way we expected.”
“Any time.”
* * *
I didn’t think I’d sleep, but I woke when soft light crept on ghostly feet along the horizon. A peek out the window showed me it had stopped snowing.
Something moved outside. Dull rhythmic thuds. Footsteps? Who’d be out here on a night like this?
Lying quietly, I listened, but the sound was not repeated. Beside me, Roan slept, his breathing long and even. He lay on his back and had shoved off the covers, revealing his red PJs. Still beyond cute.
Rising up onto my elbow, I watched him sleep.
Just staring at him stole my breath. His long lashes brushed his cheeks, and his face held hints of stubble. Sleep had tousled his hair.
When we were twelve, he got sick. Even though Dad insisted I couldn’t see him in case he was contagious, I’d disobeyed. I’d snuck to his house and crept into his room. No one could tell me he was okay. I had to see it for myself. I’d stood in the doorway watching him sleep, counting each breath, tears running down my face, before backing out quietly so I wouldn’t wake him.
I’d loved him then—as a child does a friend. But my feelings had started to change in high school. Awareness, when he tickled me, was my first inkling something was different between us. But I’d fought it. I needed my friend. I couldn’t take a chance I’d ruin that. Through college, I’d kept my feelings locked up tight and played best bud.
But I couldn’t deny my heart. A spark had been lit and there was no putting it out.
It all fell apart that night. The moment when I knew this feeling for what it was.
I loved him.
But love was for fools. Not college girls crushing on a guy who wanted nothing more than to be friends. And it certainly wasn’t meant for grown-up widows raisi
ng a child.
Friendship would have to be enough.
Against my will, my body moved toward him, drawn like every other time I was near him. I stared at his face, his soft lips.
They’d been mine once. For one night that had to last a lifetime.
He’s asleep.
It would be wrong.
He’ll never know.
But I would.
I leaned forward and drank him in. Not touching, because I couldn’t. That would be stealing, and Roan would never be mine to take. But I could pretend that he had been mine for one more night.
His eyes opened. Warm, sleepy brown. Filled with something I couldn’t define. Something that reached deep inside me and squeezed tight.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could do was feel.
His fingertips, firm, yet soft, cupped the nape of my neck, and he urged me closer.
Our lips met. Mine filled with a raw need I thought I’d forgotten. And his, opening beneath mine while he pulled me down on top of him, his hand stroking my neck. My back.
I drank him in, savoring this moment, the heady feel of his tongue touching mine. We—
What was I doing? With a gasp, I wrenched away and tumbled onto my back.
He rose up onto his elbow to stare down at me. “Cara?”
I didn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at him. “You spoke. You said…”
Outside, someone shouted, “Sooie. Sweetpea! What are you doing over there by that cabin? There’s nothing there for you. Not in the woods, either, so don’t think of going explorin’ there either. Come on. You’ve done your business, now get inside before you get into big trouble.”
I jumped out of the bed and ran to the bathroom.
Roan
“About that kiss,” I said while I drove home. While I didn’t want to make things awkward between us again, I couldn’t get that two-second flash of awesomeness out of my mind. What if it meant something?
She clicked her tongue. “It wasn’t really a kiss.”
It sure felt like a kiss to me.
Her focus on the road, she didn’t look my way. “I think it was one of those weird, unexpected, spontaneous things that shouldn’t have happened.”