One Week to Win Her Boss (Snowflake Valley)

by Barbara White Daille

  “No,” he said. “I’ve eaten plenty of roasted chestnuts.”

  “Then you know how good they are. I’ll share mine with you.”

  “I’ll pass, thanks. You might not want to spoil your appetite, either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He transferred the medallion from his neck to hers. “I’m officially inviting you to share my dessert. After all, if not for you, I wouldn’t have entered the race. You dared me. And you knew I couldn’t pass that up.” Her flushed cheeks told him she also knew exactly what he meant—though a reminder wouldn’t hurt. So he kissed her…just the way he had after their snowball fight.

  “Your lips are cold.” He wrapped his arms around her and brushed her mouth with his, planning only to torment her for a moment. But her tongue met his in an all-too-teasing touch that shook him from head to toe and stunned a few vital places in between. Talk about torment. He pressed his mouth against hers again, and darned if even the quick kiss she allowed him this time wasn’t just as earthshattering. He eased back to meet her gaze. “Now that’s more like it. You’re getting warmed up. Why don’t we see—”

  “Michael…”

  “That’s me,” he said, keeping his voice low, “the man with the right to kiss you. We’re out in a crowd now, aren’t we?” But that didn’t matter. They could have been alone, and still, he’d have wanted exactly what he’d just gotten—and more.

  “You won that contest on your own,” she said.

  No surprise she’d gone back to the issue at hand. And definitely no surprise at what she’d said. It always made her uncomfortable to take credit for anything. He thought again about how often she praised her family…something he’d never felt a reason to do with his.

  As if she’d read his thought, she said, “You should share the wealth with your brothers.”

  “Believe me, I do.” He regretted his irritated tone as soon as the words left his mouth. Amber frowned, and he had only himself to blame. Too late to take the words back. But, he hoped, not too late to keep from spoiling their afternoon. He looked down at the medallion lying against her jacket, then back at her. “I want to share this with you.”

  She ran her finger along the ribbon. “Thanks. In that case we should step out of line. I’ll pass on the chestnuts, too.”

  They moved over to wait by the wooden building. As she leaned back against the outer wall, he moved to stand in front of her. His body cast a shadow over her face but did nothing to dim the light in her eyes.

  “I need to save my appetite for Anatole’s desserts,” she said. “Besides, we still have hot dogs and toasted marshmallows ahead of us at the Christmas campfire tonight.”

  “Really? I could get used to this.”

  “It would be easy to do,” she whispered, her voice soft, drawing him to her.

  Lots of things would be easy for him to do right now. Run his fingers through her hair. Cup her cheek with his palm. Kiss her lips again. Right now. Right here. He wanted all those things, all at once. He wanted an entire list of things he couldn’t have.

  He reached for the foil disk and hefted it in his hand, as if it had the weight of a real medallion.

  She glanced down. “You look like you’re about to toss a coin.”

  “Maybe I am. Heads, I win. Tails, I win, too. Because when it comes to you, how could anyone lose?”

  Her eyes shimmered.

  He hesitated, then went on. “What you said this morning—about not being good enough for anyone. That wasn’t true. The guy who left you…you picked the wrong man, that’s all.”

  “And the right one?”

  As always, from the day he’d met her, he could read her expressions. He could see her emotions in her eyes. Her face was so open. So sincere. So Amber.

  Now, he knew what she was asking. And he didn’t have the right answer. But he’d started this and he had to finish it and he had to tell her the truth.

  He shook his head. “Not me, sweetheart. No matter how much I’d want to, I could never be the right man for you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Supper at the campfire had gone exactly as Michael had anticipated, with everybody skewering hot dogs and marshmallows over the flames. Then the big, noisy group turned to the traditional sing-along. Only, naturally, Snowflake Valley’s entertainment leaned heavily toward Christmas carols.

  He liked listening to Amber’s sweet voice as she carried the tunes and hit the high notes. And he appreciated that she seemed herself even after he’d been honest with her. At least they’d gotten that out in the open. Out of their way.

  The days were moving along faster than he’d skated in the competition. Their pretend dating would end soon. But he’d enjoy that, too, while it lasted. And he had to keep up appearances for Amber.

  As the crowd broke up and people began to straggle in different directions, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m impressed, same as the night we went caroling. I didn’t tell you then, but I should have. You sing like a Christmas angel.”

  The thought had hit his brain and escaped through his mouth before he could stop it. Ruefully, he shook his head. Even he was being infected by the Christmas spirit around here. But he’d meant what he said. She blushed at the compliment, something he’d never get tired of seeing.

  Nick and Lyssa walked up to them, their arms around each other.

  Michael eased a step away from Amber. Better to be safe. When he was around her, he had less control over his hands than he did over his mouth.

  “Guess you’ve one-upped me in the medal department,” Nick said.

  He forced a laugh. “Buddy, I’ve left you so far behind, you’ll never catch up.”

  “Who needs medals?” Lyssa asked, waving her hand as if brushing the idea away. Waving her hand again, as if he hadn’t seen it the first time. Waving her hand a third time—and then Amber let out a squeal to rival one of her daughter’s.

  “You’ve got your ring!” Her face lit with pleasure and joy.

  A feeling he couldn’t name thumped inside his chest.

  Lyssa held her hand up, ring facing out. “Nick was planning to give it to me at the ball tomorrow night, but I couldn’t wait. I love my temporary engagement ring, but I love this one better.”

  “I know you do,” Amber said. She touched the medallion hanging from its ribbon.

  Why she’d done that, he couldn’t tell. Maybe he didn’t want to know. But the action reminded him of his promise. And gave him something to do besides worry about keeping his hands to himself. “What do you say? Everybody ready for dessert?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Nick agreed. “Those marshmallows over the campfire only whet my appetite for something sweet.”

  The way Amber whets mine.

  She was his something sweet.

  Too sweet. Too hurt. Too surrounded by family.

  “Let’s go, then,” Lyssa said. “There will be a waiting line at the Candy Cane.”

  Amber had told him the businesses on Icicle Lane stayed open later than usual this time of year, taking advantage of the additional tourists here for the festival. Night had fallen a long while ago, but the area was as bright as day. Strings of colored lights arced across the street between the posts. Wavy rectangles of light shining through store windows and doorways made the sidewalks look like rivers of gold.

  He shook his head.

  Amber glanced up. “What’s wrong?” she asked quietly under the noise of the conversations around them.

  “Nothing. I was just thinking everything seems…” He laughed sheepishly, then finished, “…magical, I guess. Must be why you like it so much.”

  He heard her sharp intake of breath. As if to cover the reaction, she opened her eyes and mouth wide in exaggerated surprise. “Oh, my. Is that really you talking, Scrooge? Can it be you’re beginning to mellow?”

  “I didn’t say I liked the place,” he protested, laughing again.

  “Ah…but that’s the thing about Snowflake Valley. It’s not
just a place, it’s a feeling. You’re beginning to see why the town’s special, and that’s how the feeling starts.” Her voice rang with confidence. “Before you know it, you’ll be volunteering to play Santa.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Well, later, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.” Smiling, she linked her arm with his.

  …

  Dessert at the Candy Cane was all Amber could have wished for—though she couldn’t care less whether or not she ate any of Anatole’s sweet creations. She already rode on a sweet, wonderful, emotional high. She held onto hope. She revived her dying dreams.

  Wow. Lyssa might be right about her occasional dramatics. And maybe she was overreacting. But she couldn’t let the realities of life drag her down twenty-four seven. She had to trust in her belief in Snowflake Valley.

  After all, Michael had admitted he found her beloved town magical.

  And now, he sat beside her with his arm across the back of her chair. Unlike their previous visit to the Candy Cane, his hand most definitely touched her shoulder.

  “Hey, Raymond,” he said, raising his voice slightly above the noisy crowd, “I know you like coconut. You’ll have to try the Toasted Reindeer Treats.”

  Raymond fumbled his unopened menu. “You want me to eat reindeer food?”

  “It’s just the name they call it. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to that.” Michael looked down at his menu, then at Amber.

  She smiled up at him. “Have you gotten used to it?”

  “I think so. In fact, I’m looking forward to my Alpine Angel Cake.”

  You sing like a Christmas angel.

  She didn’t, of course, but the memory of his compliment gave her the same shiver of pleasure now that it had brought on then.

  She relayed her order to their overworked waitress, who nodded and smiled. All the employees here were used to being busy during festival week.

  As the others gave their orders, Amber glanced around the room. Again, they had taken the largest table, although they’d added a few more chairs tonight. All three of Michael’s brothers had joined them. And on their way to the Candy Cane, Lyssa had phoned Mom and Dad, who had arrived with Penny.

  This made the seating even tighter than last time. She didn’t mind, not when she could catch a faint scent of Michael’s aftershave and feel the heat of his body so close to hers.

  She flushed, then swallowed a laugh at her reaction to her own thought. It wasn’t as if anyone could read her mind. Still, knowing her cheeks had to be flaming, she leaned over to check on Penny, who lay in her carrier on the chair beside hers. The baby slept quietly.

  Amber looked down the length of the table.

  Derek had caught up with their group as they reached the Candy Cane. He sat at the foot of the table, his focus wandering around the room. The other four boys all seemed to get along well. Michael’s two youngest brother weren’t shy about talking to the twins, either.

  She hoped the girls would never join the ranks of the “bad-luck Barnett sisters,” the way she and Callie and Lyssa had. Now, Lyssa had given up the title. Amber hoped she wouldn’t have to carry it forever, either. She touched the medallion resting against her sweater.

  Michael must have noticed. “That’s not as good as the real thing.”

  “It could be. It’s all in how you look at it.”

  “Well, that’s true. Most of them don’t come with a free dessert attached.”

  That hadn’t been what she’d meant. Receiving the medal as a gift from Michael made it special to her. In the same way, Lyssa’s temporary ring would always hold a place in her heart—and in the Barnett family’s memories and photo albums…

  The albums that held the kind of group pictures Michael had mocked.

  A small twinge of doubt ran through her. But if he had changed his mind about the magic of Snowflake Valley, he could change his mind about family photos…and about a family of his own.

  Couldn’t he?

  Forget doubts. She needed positive thinking here. With the effort that took, she barely tasted her dessert. She missed most of the conversation. She only noticed Derek standing to leave because he shoved his chair back so abruptly. The sound of the legs screeching against the wooden floor drowned out the chatter in the room.

  Penny let out a startled cry. Amber patted her daughter’s arm.

  Everyone looked at Derek.

  “I’ll meet you guys at the truck.” He gestured at the mugs and plates on the table. “You got this, right, Mike?”

  “Sure,” Michael said.

  He spoke easily. Though she listened for it, she didn’t hear a false note in his tone. But a second later she saw, half-hidden by the tablecloth, his fingers curl into a fist on his thigh.

  …

  Home at the lodge, Michael went alone to his office. It took a while, but finally, he felt much better than he had with Derek at the Candy Cane. He powered down his computer and sat back in the desk chair, reviewing the situation.

  It was bad enough the man had never picked up a check in his life. He didn’t need to call attention to his freeloading habit in front of all the Barnetts.

  When he had walked off, Mr. Barnett and Nick tossed some bills onto the table. Michael appreciated that. Not because he wouldn’t willingly have paid the entire tab again, but because the other men had stepped up to ease the awkward moment. It said a lot that he had friends who had done what family—what Derek—had refused to do.

  On the slow walk through town to where he’d parked the SUV, the frigid air had cooled some of his anger. The good-natured teasing he’d gotten from all four of the younger boys had taken care of the rest. They’d threatened to challenge him to a skating rematch.

  Let them try and beat his record. He didn’t care. They’d just better not plan to get their hands on his medal. Amber’s medal now.

  He smiled. She’d sure seemed attached to it. Well, that made sense. She loved shiny objects like those glittery handmade snowflakes.

  Like Lyssa’s bright and shiny engagement ring.

  Again, that feeling he’d had at seeing Amber’s joy kicked inside his chest. He thought he had figured out what the feeling meant. But he wasn’t about to give a name to it.

  “Hey, Mike.” Derek. Didn’t even need to recognize the voice to know. Nobody else called him that.

  He looked up, taking in his stepbrother’s swagger, his expression, the look in the eyes. All familiar, and all spelling trouble. “What can I do for you?” he asked shortly, anticipating the confidence he would hear in that voice, too.

  “Nothing much.” Derek grinned. He needed a good shave and some dental work on a tooth he’d had broken in a fistfight. “I could use a loan—just a small one to tide me over.” He had made a good call with that last addition. Probably knew small would be his only option. He wasn’t dumb by any means. He just didn’t have a very good memory.

  “What happened to the thousand dollars I gave you? On Christmas Eve, remember? That wasn’t even a week ago.”

  It was the night he’d walked into the lodge and almost gotten brained by a ceramic elf. Less than a week since he’d first kissed Amber. Only a few days since he’d…

  Stop right there. Luckily, Derek’s whine distracted him.

  “I spent that money. I needed it, man. And now I need more. I’ve got a deal working.”

  “Here in Snowflake Valley?”

  “Maybe.” Derek grinned again.

  “You haven’t been here long enough to make any connections.” Then where had he gone off to this afternoon? His stomach knotted. That would be all he’d need, to find out Derek was up to no good in this town. Indirectly or not, he was the one who had brought his stepbrother here. The one who might unintentionally have opened the door to something that would affect Amber. “Stay away from the folks in the valley.”

  Derek scowled. “You can’t tell me who I can and can’t be friends with. What do you know, anyhow? And what about that loan?”

  “Forget the loan. I�
��m not carrying extra cash with me.”

  “What the— Come on, Mike, don’t try to play me. They got ATMs in this hick town, don’t they?”

  “Probably. I’m not going near one tonight. Or tomorrow.”

  “You’re a big help, man.”

  “Wrong. I was a big help. Now it’s time for you to help yourself.”

  Muttering a curse, Derek swung away from the desk. He stomped across to the doorway and disappeared through it.

  Michael sat back in his chair. He stared at the tall window off to one side of the room, but all he saw was his reflection bounced back at him from the glass.

  That, and a small ceramic Santa sitting on the windowsill, looking at him. Funny, he hadn’t seen the ornament before tonight. But he knew exactly how the thing had gotten there. And it didn’t involve magic or even Santa Claus himself.

  A moment later, he heard footsteps. He turned to find Amber standing just inside the office doorway. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “The boys and I were in the kitchen, and we…we heard some shouting.”

  “Oh, everything’s fine,” he said with forced breeziness. “Just another action-packed episode in the life of my happy family.”

  She crossed to the desk and said in a low voice, “I saw Derek headed upstairs. He didn’t look happy. Neither do you.”

  “I was being sarcastic.”

  She smiled sadly. “I figured that out.” She ran her finger along the edge of the desk. “Michael, I know you didn’t have the best time growing up. And I can see why you might feel some…some disappointment in Derek.”

  “Disappointment?”

  “Well…frustration. Anger. Whatever.”

  “Yeah. All of the above. Especially the whatever.”

  “I’m sorry.” She met his gaze, her blue eyes steady and bright, her chin set stubbornly. “Raymond and Lee seem like good kids. They’re fun and friendly, willing to cooperate and help out. Maybe you could spend more time with them. I’m sure they’d like that…” He shrugged. When he said nothing, she added, “You must have some good memories of growing up with them.”

  Any positive thoughts her earlier words might have triggered disappeared in a flash.