Not Christmas Without You

by Jane Porter

  She’d armed herself with a thermos of coffee and mentally prepared herself for a long drive, but even with a stop for gas, she’d made it in less than four and a half hours, delighted to arrive at the privately owned Little Teton Resort before dark.

  Parking her car out front in the area marked for reception, Charity headed into the lodge to check-in. The split-log lodge, built in the late 1960s, was more practical than luxurious, but the soaring ceiling featured sturdy beams, a fragrant Christmas tree in the corner, dark green garland swags over the various doorways, and an enormous wreath with a jaunty red bow over the stacked stone fireplace. The building’s design was more utilitarian than some of the fancier lodges over the mountain in Jackson Hole, but the decorations were cheerful and inviting.

  Check-in at the front desk was easy. She gave them Trisha’s name and ID Trish had given her, and the friendly reception clerk handed over a key, a map of the property, and a welcome packet for the Little Teton fam.

  “There’s a welcome reception tonight for all the travel agents. The reception will be in this building upstairs in the Fireside Room.” The clerk opened the map and drew some Xs here and there, showing Charity where the Fireside Room was, and then where to park, and how to find her room as Charity wouldn’t be in the main lodge, but in Aspen Lodge, one of the adjacent buildings.

  The clerk leaned forward and whispered, “You’re in my favorite building. It has the best coffee and chocolate in all of Little Teton Village. They have morning bakery items too, but they sell out quickly, so if you like a great chocolate croissant, go early.” She glanced around and then dropped her voice even lower. “And maybe best of all, Seattle sportswriter Douglas Quincy is in the Aspen Building, too, on the ground floor, and he’s gorgeous. As well as single. I know, because I asked.”

  “Thank you, but no,” Charity answered with a rueful shake of her head. “I’m not looking for love. I’ve sworn off men until the new year.”

  “Why?”

  “Penance for making bad decisions.” Charity scooped up the paperwork and room key. “But thanks for the tip on the chocolate. Fortunately, I have not given sweets up.”

  Charity headed back outside to move her car. It was dark now and lights were coming on, reflecting brightly off the freshly fallen snow. She drew a deep breath, inhaling the crisp cold air, excited to be at the Little Teton for the next five days. It had been a long time since she’d done something just for fun.

  Using her map, Charity found her way to the lot behind the two-story Aspen Lodge and parked in one of the many open spaces. As she turned her engine off, she frowned as she surveyed the virtually empty parking lot. It was too quiet. Indeed, when she’d turned down the small Main Street she thought the entire ski town looked quiet. Low numbers had been a problem for the resort and that was why the Pace family had poured money into Little Teton, trying to refresh the resort and ski runs, but the word didn’t seem to have gotten out yet.

  Charity swung her backpack filled with books onto her shoulders and then lugged her big suitcase out of the trunk of her old Subaru, glad no one could see her mammoth suitcase. Winter clothes and snow boots took up a lot of room and then she also wanted to bring some cute clothes for the indoor activities. Just because she was single, didn’t mean she couldn’t still feel pretty.

  One of the wheels on the suitcase no longer rolled, so she half carried, half dragged the case through the snow toward the lodge entrance. Yellow lamps made everything glow and she drew a deep breath, surprisingly excited to be here.

  She’d never been to Jackson Hole, or any of the resorts on this side of the Grand Tetons. It wouldn’t be hard to appear enthusiastic for the fam trip because she really did want to learn about the resort and runs. Charity was determined to take great notes back so Tricia could sell Little Teton to her customers and everyone would be happy.

  The backpack straps slid down her shoulders to her arms as she wrested the suitcase over a patch of ice.

  “Let me help you,” a deep male voice said from behind her, reaching an arm past her to lift the large case. “You’ve got your hands full.”

  “Thank you,” she answered breathlessly, pushing the straps of the backpack up and then a tendril of hair out of her eyes to get a better look at him because first impression was, well, impressive. Second impression was just as positive. He was tall and fit and ruggedly good-looking with shaggy, dark blond hair, scruff on his square jaw, and high hard cheekbones.

  “That’s a big suitcase,” he said, opening the front door and holding it for her, before following with the bag.

  “A girl has to have options,” she answered with a smile, glancing around the interior. The lobby of Aspen was small, but cozy, with two sets of hunter-green leather chairs, a fire crackling in the stacked stone hearth, and a collection of pine trees in the corner covered in tiny white lights. Huge glass jars filled with candy canes and peppermints decorated the mantel while a white wooden reindeer with a green wreath around its neck filled the low coffee table.

  She nodded approvingly, backpack sliding off her shoulder once more. “I wasn’t sure what to expect but this is cute.”

  “You’ll like the rooms. They’ve obviously spent a lot of money trying to make it appealing and I think they’ve succeeded.”

  She gave up trying to keep the backpack on her shoulder and just let it slide to her feet. “Are you here for the travel agent trip?”

  “I am, but I’m not a travel agent. I’m a writer.”

  So this was the sportswriter. The desk clerk had called him gorgeous, and he was. “Tricia Thorpe,” she said shyly, extending her hand.

  “Douglas Quincy,” he replied, his big hand engulfing hers, fingers closing around hers.

  His palm was so warm, and the touch of his skin sent a little jolt of electricity shooting up her arm. Charity quickly retracted her hand, and rubbed it on the back of her coat, trying to erase the tingling sensation. She’d have to be careful around Douglas. He was exactly what she didn’t need, not at this point in her chaotic, confusing life. “Where’s home for you?” she asked.

  “Seattle, Washington.”

  “Oh, then you’re the one to ask about coffee. I’ve heard there is a great coffee place in this building. Have you seen it?”

  “You’ll find the little café down that hall,” he said, pointing to the left. “Elevators and rooms are to the right, and the heated pool is out the door down that little hall.”

  She flashed what she hoped was a confident smile. “Great. Well, I’d better get settled.”

  “You’ll be at the welcome reception?”

  Her pulse sped up, double time. “See you there.”

  *

  Quinn watched Tricia disappear down the hallway with her massive suitcase and knapsack, her long blonde ponytail swinging.

  She was pretty, really pretty, with a wide, uncertain smile and blue eyes that held more than a hint of wariness in them. Her suitcase looked as if he it hadn’t been used in a long time, and her knapsack belonged to a day hiker rather than a world traveler. Quinn suspected she didn’t get out and travel as much as her customers. If that was true, he was glad she was here. He didn’t know why, but she struck him as someone in need of a break, and maybe some fun.

  Quinn hadn’t come for fun. When Peter Pace had reached out to Quinn about potentially investing in Little Teton, Quinn’s immediate thought had been no. He didn’t ski due to a clause in his contract, but it hadn’t been a huge loss as he’d liked to ski as a boy, but it had never been a passion. Baseball had always been his thing, and he’d been lucky to turn it into a lucrative career.

  But after thinking about Peter’s request a bit more, Quinn at least owed Peter the opportunity to show him what he’d done in Wyoming, which was why Quinn was here now, under the name Douglas Quincy. He wanted to see if there was a way he could help, but he wouldn’t know the answer to that until he’d been here for the week.

  *

  That evening, Charity spotted Douglas the
moment she entered the meeting room off the main lodge’s lobby. He was the tallest person in the room, and incredibly easy on the eyes. He was also circled by a large group of women who seemed to find him utterly charming.

  Charity smiled to herself and went to the beverage table to grab a bottle of water but then spotted the red and white wine and decided, a glass of red would be really lovely about now. She wasn’t exactly nervous being here, but she was out of her element.

  As she sipped her wine, she glanced around the room. From the way it’d been set up, she gathered that there would be a presentation. Two rows of chairs faced a podium and screen at one end of the room, while tables of food and drink were at this end.

  She snagged some of the skewered meat sticks and cheese cubes before heading toward the chairs. If Tricia was here, she’d mingle with the other agents, but Charity didn’t have Tricia’s confidence. But then, Tricia did these familiarizations all the time as hotels and airlines used the free trips as a way to show off new airplane routes or properties, and Marietta Travel might be small, but Paradise Valley was filled with wealthy people who could afford to go where they wanted, whenever they wanted.

  A shadow stretched over her. She glanced up to discover the sportswriter at her side, smiling. His smile was a thing of perfection—straight white teeth, great jaw, lovely mouth.

  “Are you saving this row of seats?” he asked, gesturing to her row. “Or can you spare one for me?”

  She tore her gaze from his mouth up to his eyes. Those were beautiful, too. He had not been shortchanged in the looks department. “I think I can spare a chair.”

  He sat down next to her and extended long, muscular legs. His legs were so long, his all-weather boots were hidden beneath the seat in front of him. “The ladies I just met are all from the West Coast, three from California, one from Oregon and another from Vancouver. They’re very excited to be here.”

  “It’s certainly a cute place,” she answered.

  “They hit the Ice Shack for dinner and recommended the fondue there. Actually, they raved about the cheese and a chocolate fondue.”

  She was amused by this conversation. Did big, muscular men like fondue? “I don’t think I’ve ever had fondue.”

  “Never?”

  She shook her head and sipped her wine. “Are you a fondue fan?” she asked innocently.

  “I wouldn’t say I’m a fan, but it’s a fun thing to do on a ski trip. Do you ski?”

  “I can get down the mountain but it’s not particularly pretty. More survival skiing than anything.”

  She was rewarded with a laugh, and the deep, husky appreciative sound burrowed inside of Charity, warming her. He really was incredibly attractive, and it wasn’t just his looks—which were exceptional—but it was his smile and laugh and the way he just seemed so much larger than life. More real, more alive somehow.

  “Since you’re not a travel agent, why are you here?” she asked, crossing her legs and opening her notebook. “Are you doing an article on ski resorts, or are you writing specifically about this one? What’s the scoop?”

  “I know the owner here. The resort needs publicity, and I thought I’d see if there was some way I could help them out.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  His broad shoulders shrugged. “I try to be nice.”

  She had a weakness for a man with a sense of humor, and he definitely had one. “I confess I don’t really know a lot about Wyoming resorts.” She lowered her voice so no one else would hear. “In fact, this is my first time here. I didn’t even know that Little Teton existed.”

  “Jackson Hole gets most of the attention. Then for those who want to ski this side of the mountain, they usually hit Grand Targhee. Even though Little Teton Resort and the Grand Targhee were built just five years apart back in the sixties, the Grand Targhee was just managed better, and found their customers, and kept them. Little Teton passed from one owner to another, and each owner did less and less to take care of the place. Peter Pace, the new owner, has poured money into this resort but they don’t have a lot of bookings and they can’t afford to go through the winter without revenue.”

  “Which is why we’re all here.”

  He nodded. “I’m a little worried, though, as Peter can’t compete with Jackson Hole, at least, not with those who want trendy and luxury. This place isn’t going to be for the jet-setters who want to be seen.”

  “Not everyone wants to be seen. I know I’ve only just arrived, but I’d think it’d appeal to those who want great snow and the authentic Rocky Mountain ski experience.”

  “It’ll be interesting to see how family friendly they are,” he added.

  She nodded as a pair of women squeezed past them to sit down in their row. Others were taking chairs in the row ahead of them.

  “Have you gone on a lot of fam trips?” he asked.

  “No, this is my first.”

  “So why this one?”

  She glanced up into his handsome face with the piercing blue eyes and didn’t know why she felt compelled to be honest. Maybe it was because the past few weeks had been so hard, or maybe it was the relief of being someone new, somewhere new. “I needed a break, and this seemed to be the perfect change of scenery. Work and vacation all in one.”

  “Is travel that hectic this time of year?”

  “No, just my life right now.” She made a face. “I have inadvertently become the queen of bad decisions.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  He waited a moment, eyes narrowed as his gaze swept her face before lingering on her rueful smile. “What’s the most recent bad decision?” he asked.

  Charity hated the sudden ache in her chest. It was so stupid to let Greg hurt her and she forced a shrug, not wanting to let Douglas know just how bruised she felt. “Turns out my boyfriend wasn’t as committed to me as he let me believe.”

  “What a schmuck. You’re better off without him.”

  “I agree. Unfortunately, we work together so it’s extra uncomfortable.” She shook her head. “I should have known better. There’s a reason why they tell you not to date anyone from work.”

  “Hopefully, he’s just another agent and not your boss.”

  It took Charity a moment to process what he meant and then she grimaced. “Not my boss, thank goodness. I’ve made some mistakes in my time, but thankfully have never made that one.”

  Conversation was curtailed by the appearance of a man at the podium. For the next ten minutes they watched a video about the history of skiing in Wyoming and the creation of the Little Teton Resort in the Grand Teton Mountains. The short film used old photographs and some home movie clips to convey the history of the resort, before seguing into the new owners’ vision for Little Teton, and the developments they’d done since acquiring the resort two years ago. By the time the film was over, Charity wished she was a real travel agent who could send the resort dozens of guests.

  “That was really interesting,” she said to Douglas as the lights went back on and they were all excused to go enjoy the rest of their evening. “I loved the film, too. I’m glad they’ve added it to their website. I’ll have everyone in the office watch it when I return.”

  They stepped out of their row so everyone else could escape. Resort staff were stacking the platters and collecting dirty dishes from a tray in the corner.

  “What are your plans for the rest of the evening?” Douglas asked, as she added her empty wineglass to one of the big trays.

  “Go back to my room and read.”

  “Read?”

  She slipped her notebook into her purse. “I love to read.”

  “What kind of books?”

  “Romance,” she said a little defiantly, waiting for him to make fun of her.

  He didn’t, although the corner of his mouth lifted and his blue eyes gleamed. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I love that they always end happy. I love that in a romance the woman is just as important as the hero. In fact, I think
she is the hero.” Charity lifted her chin, expression challenging, again waiting for him to make a smart remark, but he just gave her another smile, creases fanning from his eyes.

  “I’m not going to fight with you. We all have different ways to relax. I play Xbox. I even carry the console and controller in my suitcase when traveling. My girlfriend wasn’t a fan, so I tried to play only when on the road, but sometimes it was the best way for me to unwind and unplug, necessary in my line of work.”

  “So we all have a guilty pleasure.”

  “Exactly. What was your boyfriend’s? Do you remember?”

  “Baseball.”

  “He played?”

  “No. He’s a die-hard Cubs fan. He had one of those sports packages and he’d watch almost every single game on TV, and baseball has a lot of games.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “What was your girlfriend’s guilty pleasure?”

  “Shopping,” he said without hesitation. “She was the very definition of a shopaholic. But she could afford it so I’m not judging.”

  “Wow. Lucky. That’s one thing I don’t do. I was raised in a family that didn’t have very much, and it’s still pretty tight.”

  “Travel agents don’t earn a lot, do they?”

  Charity thought of all the fun opportunities Tricia did have, working in her industry. “But there are lots of perks. Like this one. Being here.” She glanced around and realized they were the only two left in the room that weren’t staff. “I guess we should let them clean up without having to work around us.”

  “I know you’ve got your book waiting for you in your room,” he said, as they stepped into the hall, “but I’m going to check out the Ice Shack and their incredible cheese fondue. Want to join me? We each have a dinner voucher and we can use it in any of the resort restaurants.”

  Douglas was handsome and smart and very appealing. She was enjoying his company a little more than she should. But this wasn’t a dinner date; it was business. She was networking. “I think it’s time to try my first fondue.”