by Carrie Elks
Her heart clenched with love for her cousins, because they were doing this for her and for Josh.
She lost count of the number of people who’d slapped their backs and wished them luck as they’d walked through the lobby carrying their skis and backpacks. It was as though they were going out to fight a war, rather than ski a few miles up the road. They were so lucky to have so many people caring for them.
And when she found Josh, she was going to tell him just how many people cared about him, too.
They made it to the road, and Gabe turned to the right, keeping to the middle of the open, snowy expanse, as he propelled himself forward.
“Be ready to pull to the right if we see something coming.” His voice was almost lost in the wind.
He was skiing steadily. She knew that was for her sake. If she wasn’t here, her cousins would probably be careening down the hillside, whooping and laughing at the heady sensation.
Still, she kept pushing forward, making herself go as fast as she could. There was no time for fear or for being overly careful. They needed to get to Josh.
And the first thing she was going to do was tell him she loved him. No pauses, no fears, just throwing herself toward him and opening herself up.
She was sick of being afraid. Fear had made her almost lose the man she loved. She needed to be as brave for herself as she was for everybody else.
“There’s a slope ahead,” Gabe shouted. “You okay with that, Holly?”
“I’m good.” Her voice was grimly determined. “I’ll wedge the shit out of it.”
Gabe’s laugh carried back to her on the wind.
Less than a minute later she was following him down the hill, feeling the wind slapping against her face. Snowflakes clung to her skin, before melting against her. Her heart was speeding as fast as her skis, her breath short as she concentrated on her form, keeping her skis wedged to control her descent.
By the time they made it to the next flat, she was exhilarated. If only it was all downhill, they’d get there so much faster. North skied up beside her, shooting her a grin.
“You aced it. Gabe said you were terrible at hills.”
“I’m a fast learner.”
“I can see that.” He bumped her shoulder. “You’re a Winter, after all.”
They skied on, and the road was hauntingly empty. No humans to be seen – no animals either. They were all sensibly staying safe, sheltering from the storm.
All of them except the four people who should know better.
They’d taken another downhill when Gabe let out a shout, the echo deadened by the layers of snow covering the ground and the trees.
“There’s somebody ahead.”
She squinted her eyes, because right now all she could see was the white of the snowflakes as they careened toward them. Then something shifted. It was dark and difficult to make out, but whatever it was, it was moving.
“Josh?” she shouted, the wind swallowing up her voice.
She pushed herself faster, shortening the distance between her and Gabe. Her breath was puffing through her lips and her thigh muscles were aching, but with every slide forward she felt something she hadn’t since she’d left her mom’s house.
Hope.
She felt hope.
“It’s human,” Gabe shouted. She could hear North’s skis wooshing as fast as hers as he skied alongside her, not bothering to use her tracks.
“It’s him!” she shouted at her cousin. “It’s definitely him.” She’d know that thick coat from anywhere. And that determination in his gait. Out of nowhere, tears stung her eyes because she was so damn relieved.
He was alive. He was walking. He was here.
“Josh!” she shouted out again.
“Holly?” his low shout came in reply.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” She had to take a breath. “I love you, dammit.”
“I think he gets the message, Hol.” North was laughing now. He reached for Gabe’s shoulder, and they both stopped, letting Holly cover the rest of the distance between her and Josh.
And then she was in front of him. This man she’d fallen for in spite of herself. This man who loved her enough to give her a town for Christmas.
This man who set her world on fire.
“I love you,” she said, reaching for his mittened hand with her own. “I love you, Josh Gerber.”
His teeth were chattering, but somehow he managed to smile. “I love you, too. So damn much. And I thought I told you not to come.”
“I wouldn’t have, except some townie was stupid enough to go out in the cold.” She wanted to laugh, because relief was washing over her. He loved her. And it was everything. In that moment, nothing else mattered.
The snow. The town. Or the fact that she was so cold her face was stinging.
“This is really nice,” Gabe said dryly, skiing to a stop beside them. “Very romantic, and all that. But there’s a storm raging and we have to get inside.”
“Josh doesn’t have skis,” Holly pointed out.
“I know.” Gabe smiled. “It’s a good thing he’s only made it just over a mile from his house.”
“A mile?” Josh frowned. “That can’t be right. I must have gone further.”
“We’ll explain the concept of snow blindness later.” Gabe patted his arm. “But now we need to get you back. Do you have electricity at your place?”
“It went out before I left.”
“You have blankets and a fire?” Gabe looked hopeful.
“Yep.” Josh nodded. “And plenty of wood.”
“Then lets go.”
North and Gabe stayed with them until the wind died down, and the snowfall had lightened up, looking less like Armageddon and more like Christmas Eve. They’d found blankets and towels, each of them drying off by the fireplace, then they’d boiled a pan of water and made hot chocolate.
Now they were standing at the door, and Holly was hugging them both. “Are you sure you have to leave? Maybe you should wait until morning.”
“Alaska and Everley need our help at the Inn,” North told her, looking at his phone. “Apparently, Charlie’s talking about bringing more moonshine over from his garage. I need to shut that down and get him to sleep. We need him up to plow the roads tomorrow.”
“You guys could come, too,” Gabe suggested to her and Josh. “I don’t know when you’ll get the power back here. We have the generator at the Inn.”
“We have the fire,” Holly said, giving him a smile. Gabe nodded, getting the message.
She and Josh had some talking to do. Alone.
And maybe when they were done talking, more of other stuff, too.
“We’ll see you tomorrow. As soon as Charlie’s sober enough to drive.” North ruffled her hair. “Bye Hol. Bye Josh.”
“Thank you for taking care of her.” Josh shook North’s hand. It made her heart clench to watch the two main men in her life connecting once more. This time in a much less violent way.
“We had no choice. If Holly decides to do something, she does it.” North chuckled. “Anyway, she’s all yours now.”
Her cousins left, North letting out a whoop as he threw a snowball at Gabe’s back, then skied past him like a lightning streak. Holly rolled her eyes and turned back to Josh, who was looking at her with a smile on his lips.
“Come lay by the fire,” he said, sliding his hand into hers. In the living room, he had laid blankets out in front of the hearth, piling cushions up so she could lay down and let the flames warm her. He settled in behind her, pulling her close against his body, then pulled another blanket up to cover them both.
“Are you warm enough?” he murmured.
“Toasty.”
She let her head rest on his chest, smelling the smoke wafting in from the fire, and the masculine scent of this man with his arms wrapped around her. Somehow they’d made it back together, despite the odds.
And despite the way she’d hurt him.
“I’m so sorry,” she tol
d him. “I shouldn’t have hidden our plan from you.”
He kissed her head. “I overreacted. I should have listened to what you had to say.” He splayed his hand out over her stomach, pulling her closer, until they were two spoons warming in front of the fireplace. “The truth was, I wanted to be your knight in shining armor. To give you this wonderful gift on Christmas morning. To see your face when you realized that the town was yours.”
“And I spoiled it. I’m sorry.”
“No, I spoiled it. A gift shouldn’t be given with any expectations attached to it. It should be given freely and with love. But I got all butt hurt because you didn’t need my gift. You’d already gotten what you needed for yourself.”
She turned her head, her eyes shining as they met his. “I should have told you I loved you the night you told me.”
He swallowed, his throat bobbing. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because I was afraid.” She pulled her lip between her teeth. “I told myself it was because I needed to wait until you knew the truth about the town. But I don’t think that was it at all. I was afraid to open myself up to you. So scared that you could hurt me. But instead I ended up hurting us both by staying quiet.”
“Are you still afraid?” he asked her.
“I’m afraid of not being with you,” she whispered. “I’m afraid that you won’t want to be with me because I hurt you.”
“I do want to be with you.” He brushed his lips against her cheek. “So much.”
She let out a lungful of air, her body sagging with relief. “We were all so worried about you. We had a town meeting about how to rescue you.”
A smile played at his lips. “You did?”
She nodded. “Yeah. You’ve got a lot of fans in Winterville.” Including his biggest one, who happened to be in his arms. “Even if you’re an idiot who goes out in the snow when he knows better.”
“Takes one to know one.” He kissed her cheek again. “I told you to stay put.”
“I know. But I needed to be with you.”
“Back atcha.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder and pressed his lips to her neck. “I would have made it to the Inn. Eventually.” He didn’t sound so sure.
“We can go tomorrow. When the roads are cleared,” she said, closing her eyes, because his mouth felt so good.
“Or the next day. Whatever.”
She turned her head again, so he could capture her mouth with his. His kiss was warm and gentle and made her stomach turn to jelly.
“I can’t believe you tried to give me a town for Christmas,” she said, smiling against his lips.
“I didn’t try. I did it. The contracts are signed.”
“I can’t accept it.”
“Yes you can. It’s what you’ve been fighting for all this time. And it’s easier than sending lawyer’s letters and buying some buildings from me.”
“But what about your business? Your investors?”
“The investors will be repaid. And the business will be fine. Eventually.” He didn’t sound worried at all. There was too much heat in his voice for that. His hand slid down her side, cupping her hip and pulling her harder against him.
She could feel just how hot he was getting. She was feeling the same way. But she wanted to see his face, to look into his eyes. Squirming in his grasp, she managed to turn onto her other side, reaching up to touch his hair, his face, his lips.
“Hello.” She smiled at him.
“Hi.” There was so much warmth in his eyes as he stared at her. It made her heart ache. This man who’d given up a town for her. Who’d risked his relationship with his grandfather to make her happy.
The man who went out in a snowstorm because he was afraid she might injure herself trying to get to him.
“I have a gift for you, too,” she told him, sliding her hand down his arm, feeling the steel of his biceps beneath his sweater.
“I was hoping you did.” He lifted a brow and she laughed.
“Not that.” Although it did sound appealing right now. “It’s at the Inn. We have to go there tomorrow to pick it up.”
“I like the other gift better.”
She snickered. Then he kissed her neck and the laughter died in her throat, replaced by a soft sigh as his warm hands slid down her sides.
“Tell me you love me again,” he whispered, kissing the corner of her lips.
“I love you.”
He rewarded her with the warmth of his mouth capturing hers, his tongue smooth and soft as he deepened their connection.
“Again.”
“I love you.”
This time he slid his hands inside her sweater, his thumbs feathering the peaks of her nipples until her breath stuttered in her throat.
His fingers were deft as they unfastened her pants, sliding them down her smooth thighs. He sat on his knees, looking down at her. “Again.”
“I love you.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He tugged at her panties, throwing them over his shoulder until she was bare before him, on the bottom half at least. The top was still cozy warm, as though he didn’t want her to freeze.
She loved it. She loved him.
“For the record, I love you too,” he murmured, running his fingertips up her thighs. There was an intent expression on his face. He was a man on a mission. “So damn much.”
Just as he buried his head between her thighs there was a loud crack, then the lights flashed on. The clock on the kitchen let out a loud beep, then the phone did the same. The heating system began with a whoosh of air.
“You’re a magician,” Holly whispered.
He looked up, a grin on his lips. “It’s the electricity between us. Even a storm can’t beat it.”
“I was kind of liking the darkness and the fireplace.” She pulled her lip between her teeth. “It felt like we were the only people in the world.”
“You want me to turn the lights out?”
“Yeah, I would.” Just for a few hours. Enough for it to be just the two of them and nothing else. No worries about her family or his business, or this town that brought them together after tearing them apart.
Just Holly and Josh and the feeling of his skin pressing against hers.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. “I’m going to flip the fuses.”
It was like he could read her mind, and she loved him for it. So much it felt like she might burst.
For so long she’d been afraid of this feeling, and she couldn’t imagine why. Because it was perfect.
Just like Josh, who was walking back into the living room, his face illuminated by orange flames. He glanced at his watch and lifted a brow. “It’s midnight,” he told her.
“It’s Christmas,” she breathed, watching as he pulled his sweater off, followed by his t-shirt, revealing his muscled chest.
“It is.” He unbuckled his belt, tugging his pants and shorts off. “And now I definitely want my gift.”
28
They were still laying by the fire when Holly awoke. At some point in the night, Josh must have turned the power back on, because she could hear the low hum of the heating system. The fire had burned down to black embers, though the smell of it still hung warmly in the air. The two of them were laying on the floor, under soft wool blankets, her head on Josh’s chest.
At first, the sound was almost imperceptible above Josh’s gentle, rhythmic breaths. But then it became louder. A trill of bells, and music, along with a low roar of an engine. Was Charlie Shaw actually playing Christmas music as he plowed the roads? Maybe he had drunk too much moonshine after all.
Holly carefully extricated herself from Josh’s warm embrace, pulling on her panties and Josh’s discarded t-shirt, before padding over to the living room window. She pulled the curtain open an inch or two, looking out at the blanket of snow covering Josh’s driveway and lawn. The early morning sun reflected against it, sparkling like diamonds.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. No trace of the storm that had taken place th
e night before. It was a beautiful Winterville morning.
The rumble of the engine increased, and she could hear the music clearer, too. It was “Jingle Bells” she could hear playing. She grinned at the jauntiness of it all.
Then Charlie Shaw’s snowplow turned into Josh’s driveway, pushing snow to the sides of the blacktop path, and she felt wistful because it meant they were no longer cut off.
But that thought rushed out of her mind as she saw the cavalcade of trucks and cars following behind.
“Josh?”
“Huh?” He sat up, rubbing his eyes. The blanket fell around his hips, revealing his bare chest.
“We have company. You might want to get dressed.”
“Company?” He frowned. “Who?”
“All of Winterville, by the looks of it.”
She looked out of the window again. She could see North and Gabe in the first truck, with Alaska and Everley hanging out of the back windows, grinning like idiots.
Then there was The Cold Fingers Café truck, driven by a laughing Dolores. More vehicles followed behind, belonging to the local businesses. Then there were four wheel drive cars. The line stretched back along the road from Winterville.
Josh pulled on his shorts, then blinked at her. “I need my t-shirt back.”
She grinned. “Oops.” Closing the curtain, she pulled it off, loving the way his eyes darkened at the sight of her body. There was a hint of regret in his expression.
Within a minute they were dressed. She was flattening her hair into submission as Charlie began honking his horn, then all the other cars and trucks joined in.
“Is it always like this on Christmas morning?” he asked her.
“If you’d have stayed eight years ago, you would have found out.”
He kissed her temple. “Worst mistake of my life.”
She laced her fingers through his and led him to the door. As she opened it, cold air rushed past them, making her gasp.
“What’s going on?” she asked, looking over at her cousins.
“It’s Christmas morning,” North shouted. “We can’t start the celebrations without you.”
Everley jumped down from his truck. “He said we can’t even open our gifts until we brought you back to the Inn.” She looked at Josh. “Both of you.”