“I did.”
“The only instructions she gave me was to show the passion and joy of her children and the beauty of the seasons here in Cloud Hill.”
“You’ve nailed that. They actually seem to embody each season.”
Now it was her turn to smile. His words warmed her more than the coffee had. Yeah, it felt good talking to him—she never expected that. It felt like a truce. One he had no idea they needed.
“I hope Diane feels that way. Pleasing a client and knowing you’ve given them what they wanted is as much a joy as running in a field full of colorful wildflowers or laughing during a really great movie…”
“Or having really great sex.”
Aurora blushed. Yeah. That too. Although it had been a really long time since she’d experienced it.
Daniel glanced at her. “Sorry if I embarrassed you.” He touched her burning cheek with the tips of his cool fingers. “You’re blushing.”
“Not embarrassed. Getting sunburned. The sun is brutal at this elevation.” She moved a little farther away from him, forcing him to drop his hand.
He smiled. “Talking about painting is like foreplay, huh?” He laughed when she gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not. You’re behaving like a naughty boy.”
His brows lifted. “Guilty.”
“So, that bad boy image on your album covers isn’t just for branding?”
“You’ve seen my covers?” There was that playful light in his eyes again. Aurora thought of what brush she would use and what colors she’d need to capture it.
“Not on purpose.” She shrugged. “It was on a junk mail ad I received for some sort of rip-off music club. As I recall, they were selling your CDs—three for a dollar.”
“I don’t do music clubs…” He threw his head back and laughed. “You’re messing with me, Aurora. Trying to bruise my indestructible super-ego.”
“Is that possible?” she teased.
“By you…yes.”
“Now who is messing with whom?”
He took a drink of his coffee and Aurora looked at his smooth lips as they met the black ceramic rim. The way they touched the dark liquid made her heart pound. Form, color…and something more. A memory. A memory of the warm, soft slide of her mouth against his. She swallowed hard, her throat tightening with emotion. She wished she could wipe the memory of their kiss from her mind.
Did anyone ever forget their first kiss?
“…Aurora?” Daniel leaned forward, so close she smelled the sweet coffee on his breath. He looked at her, his brows furrowed in concern. “Are you okay? You drifted away and didn’t look very happy to have gone there.”
She stood. “I’m fine. I need to go and take care of some things.” Anything.
He grabbed her hand and tugged for her sit. His touch was gentle, his hand warm from clasping the coffee mug. Her heart pumped harder. “Please stay. I want to talk to you about Franklin.”
She bit her bottom lip and sat. She didn’t know why she did when every cell in her body said get away from Daniel.
“Why did you agree to help Big with the deer?” he asked, his voice deep and serious. “Why didn’t you refuse, knowing you’re afraid of the animal?”
“Afraid? I’m not exactly…”
He held up his hand. “Aurora, you have every reason to be afraid. He’s young, but he must outweigh you by fifty pounds or more. He’s untamed. Unpredictable.”
“I think it’s admirable that Big wants to help him.” She shrugged, knowing she was avoiding his direct question. She didn’t really know how to answer it. “He wants to help or fix everything. Even me.” She stood again. Dear Lord, why did I admit that to Daniel? It was stupid. Foolish. Probably Freudian. “If I can help such a kind man, I will.” She forced a smile. “I really must go.” Once again Daniel took her hand into his. This time he didn’t tug for her to sit. And, once again, heat rushed into her body, making her knees feel weak.
“Are you in love with him?” he asked, standing to face her. His eyes were steady and focused on hers.
“Who? Big?” She placed her mug on the bench so she could move and break the hold his eyes had on her. “Not like you mean. He’s a friend. A good friend. Trustworthy. Loyal. There aren’t many people in this world who are like that.”
Daniel nodded, placed his coffee on the bench next to hers, then looked toward the fast-moving river. Thick chunks of ice topped with patches of snow floated by. “He’s not an easy man to talk to or get to know. He’s a loner. Does what he wants when he wants to do it. If he’s your friend, it’s because he wants to be.”
Aurora smiled. It felt good knowing that Big liked her and probably had made a conscious decision to do so. She glanced at Daniel, whose red nose and cheeks spoke of how the cold was affecting him. The soft light in his eyes and the relaxed expression across his brow and mouth spoke of his contentment. “You look like you’re at peace.”
“I am.” He looked up at the bright blue, cloudless sky. “How can I not be–look at this place.” He took a step to the side and looked at her. “Beautiful.”
She didn’t move when she knew she should. Something in his deep voice held her in place, made her heart pound. He gently touched the side of her face as he leaned in, his heated breath mingling with hers as his mouth paused so close to hers. She closed her eyes as his lips settled tenderly on hers. His hand slid behind her neck with gentle pressure to keep her from moving way, but allowing her to at the same time. Daniel changed the angle as his tongue slid along the seam of her lips. Her mouth parted. He nibbled on her bottom lip, then sucked on it tenderly, surprising her with how sensual it felt, sending a pulsing through her blood, until her toes tingled with it.
“Mmm,” he murmured, and deepened the kiss, not rushing the strokes of his tongue on hers, nor the gentle brush of his fingers along the sides of her neck. Aurora lifted her hands to grip his shoulders, feeling hard muscle beneath the soft fabric of his coat.
Rocky began barking from inside the loft. It was like an icy plunge in the Crystal River. It snapped her out of the sensual haze she’d floated into. What in the world am I doing? The hands that had just held on to him now pushed him away. Daniel dropped his forehead against hers.
“Darlin’, you kiss as good as you paint,” he said, breathing hard.
“Your dog is barking,” she said, unable to think of anything to say. His words stunned her as much as the kiss. She needed to think about why both had made her feel so good when she didn’t welcome either.
“Yes, he is,” he smiled, stepping back. “Probably at whoever is speaking near the loft.”
She took a step back too. Distance. She wanted distance between them. Maybe that would help to slow her out-of-control pulse. “Don’t look now, but half of the movers and shakers of Cloud Hill just came around the house and are headed this way.” She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets. “How do you feel about playing music for a Nutcracker Christmas show in the middle of the Rockies? I think you’re about to find out, because I don’t think even your indestructible ego or bad boy image can keep pushing back against stubborn twins, the mayor of Cloud Hill, and a couple of town councilmen.” She waved at him. “See you around.”
He grabbed the back of her coat and pulled her against his chest. Into her ear he whispered, “Don’t abandon a poor desperate man in his darkest hour of need.”
“Nice try.” She stepped away and he released her coat.
“I’ll come pick you up at the inn to go hiking in fifteen minutes,” he said, his voice loud enough to make sure the approaching posse heard. Oh, he was going to use her as his escape excuse. She shook her head. “And yes. You can pack some sandwiches and water.”
Before she could respond, the mayor reached Daniel and extended his hand. “Good morning, Mr. Brooks. May I call you Daniel? I’m Teddy Sullivan, mayor of Cloud Hill.”
Aurora didn’t stick around. She had to get away…and think. She needed to paint. As she was ru
shing off, she heard the rest of the introductions and their request for Daniel to make a rehearsal schedule for the cast.
Chapter Five
The earth had moved. He’d swear it did the second his mouth touched hers, even if he had his right hand raised and the other on a bible. If someone had told him he’d think that before he kissed Aurora, he would’ve told them they were crazy. Hell, maybe he was crazy or maybe he’d damaged his head battling Franklin. Maybe kissing a beautiful snow fairy had cast a spell on him.
All he knew was that he had to kiss her one more time to see if doing so created some sort of geological phenomenon or an unexplained hallucination. Yeah, he might have to kiss her a lot more to truly make an accurate determination on the subject.
Daniel laughed. He was losing it, all right. Being idle for the first time in a decade made him mad. Idle. Well, it seemed he might not be idle for long if the Cloud Hill gang-of-five that came calling had their way. Although the mayor had pressed him for an answer, Daniel hadn’t committed to anything. Not committing while exiting fast from someplace he didn’t want to be was a skill he’d learned long ago. He had to, if he was to protect both his work life and his personal life. People were always asking him to endorse, to visit, to pose, or to do any number of things he didn’t have the time nor the inclination to do because it interfered with his music, his brand, and his performance. In his personal life, women were often trying to impress, or seduce. Many wanted to lay claim to him for a night or for a lifetime.
He’d developed a special set of skills to avoid the hazards from both. With women, he simply didn’t date or bed fans. With the other, he employed assistants and security to handle “the ask.” The one exception was with family. Daniel never, ever relegated any situation involving family. Never. If he was to maintain a relationship with his parents, brothers, aunts, uncles, and cousins, then he had to be available to them. Helping with the Nutcracker show music involved family.
He knew his uncle wanted him to do it. Big had stopped just short of asking him, although his tone and expressions told him he expected it. It was why he didn’t outright refuse to help when the five of them cornered him in the backyard. He hadn’t committed to anything either. Daniel needed to speak to his uncle about it first. Then he’d bow out. He also wanted to ask him about Aurora.
After grabbing two pairs of snowshoes, he headed to the inn, where he knew his uncle was working on the sets for the Christmas show. He’d find Aurora afterward and convince her to join him for a hike up to the waterfall at the end of Wake-up Trail just above Cloud Hill. He’d been mostly teasing her about picking her up for the hike, using her as an excuse to get away from the town officials. He’d first taken the snowshoes for show. But as he walked past the garland-wrapped, metal lampposts along the street as he headed to the inn, he realized he wanted to spend more time with Aurora and enjoy another kiss. Maybe he should borrow the mistletoe hanging over the cranberry-red door at the Grill on the Hill Café.
Her kisses were great, but he enjoyed talking with her too. While she joined him in his tiny kitchen as he made coffee, they’d covered a number of interesting subjects–like what constituted the need for historical preservation and what should just be torn down. Which was better coffee beans or grinds; Colombian coffee, French, or Indonesian. They even discussed music preferences in the morning compared to at night. Aurora was definitely a reserved person, but fortunately she was an opinionated one too.
He liked that there was no hair-tossing, over-laughing at his jokes, or come-hither looks from Aurora. In fact, she actually seemed a little hostile toward him. Hostile? Nah, that was too strong a word. Maybe…defensive. Why was that? They barely knew each other. Today along the banks of the Crystal, there was a shift, though. He’d felt it, reacted to it with a long, delicious kiss. Yeah, her behavior should be a huge turnoff, a red flag, but it had the opposite effect. Damn, was she using that reverse psychology crap on him? Was that her game?
Daniel picked up his pace as he walked along the snow-packed road where a single car was driving by. In a town only two miles long, there was never a lot of vehicular traffic. Locals and visitors alike walked from place to place, although even with that, there was little to no activity. The peacefulness would be gone all too soon when the festival began.
The snow crunching under his boots in a steady staccato had him thinking of a song he’d written, inspired by that sound. It was a happy song of childhood fun and freedom. Those days were gone, he realized, but looking at the tall snowdrifts piled high near the cottage homes on both sides of the main street had him thinking about diving headfirst into those soft, fluffy drifts with complete abandon.
He loved Cloud Hill. As a child, he never gave thought to its historical significance nor how the homes and inn were built there to house coal miners and their families. He hadn’t considered the importance of the coal cookers who burned the impurities from the mined coal nor the coking coal that was sold to make steel for the railroad being built to connect Americans. He just liked the way he felt when he saw the white, yellow, and blue houses with cheerful colors on their scrolled trims. He liked the friends he made who lived in them too. Some he kept up with on social media. Most had left the tiny village for careers. Would any of them return for the Christmas Festival? Would he recognize them? He hadn’t recognized Aurora at first. Of course, he barely knew her as a child and hadn’t thought of her since.
He sure was thinking of her now. Thinking of her sweet lips and those mesmerizing eyes.
“Good morning, Daniel,” Diane Jones, the owner of the inn, said as he entered the front door. She was standing in front of the check-in counter, hanging a live wreath with a big red velvet bow on it. He noticed there was a live garland swag hanging on the wall behind the counter too. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Denise was a tall, thin woman with shoulder-length, dark blond hair and friendly eyes. He smiled at her as he stomped the snow off his boots onto the red and green Christmas rug at the door.
“Yes, ma’am it is.” He walked up to the counter and motioned to the mural. “Looks like Aurora worked on it last night.” He noted she’d finished the base of the large elm where one of Denise’s daughters was chasing a butterfly.
“That’s Spring,” she said softly. The sadness was unmistakable in her tone.
“Spring the butterfly chaser. I don’t think I know her or her sisters.”
“Not surprising. My late husband and I inherited the inn when my father passed, but we hired a manager to run it at first.”
“Mr. Stanley. I do remember him.”
“Yes. He’s a good man. After we had a nice nest egg put aside, my husband semi-retired and we moved here. The girls were in their teens then. You didn’t come around Cloud Hill much at that time.” The sadness returned to her eyes. “The girls don’t come around at all now. They’re all grown up, have their careers to tend to, and lives to live. I miss them.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” She patted his hand. “That will change soon.”
Something in her tone told Daniel he didn’t want to know more about why the four sisters would be coming to Cloud Hill. So, he asked if his Uncle Big was still there working in the ballroom. She told him he was. After a quick farewell, he headed to find him.
“Grab an end,” Big said as soon as Daniel walked into the ballroom. Big’s back was to him, yet he knew he was there.
Daniel hadn’t seen him at first. His uncle oddly blended in with the dark blue and green carpet. True, the carpet was a floral pattern with pops of yellow and red, but its background was the exact shade as the plaid on Big’s kilt. Besides that, Daniel’s eyes had been assaulted by the bright sunlight when he first walked into the expansive room.
Although his eyes were stinging from the harsh reflection off the snowdrifts through the enormous walls of windows on three sides of room, it didn’t take long for them to adjust. He was used to the extreme artificial stage lights from his concerts. This natural high mountain li
ght rivaled that and then some. He slipped on the aviator frame sunglasses he’d just taken off when he entered the dark lobby of the inn.
“Are you going to just stand there waiting for a Rolling Stone magazine reporter to show up and snap your photo or are you going to help me?”
Daniel strode forward, past several twelve-foot high, wooden cut-outs of nutcrackers, realizing when he got closer to him that his uncle had seen him in the two mirrors angled in a V in front of him. “That’s cool,” he told him, now realizing as he stood behind his uncle, that there were five images of him in the mirror from five different angles.
“It’s a multigraph image. If you take a photo in back of me from a hidden camera, it’ll look like a person is sitting at a table with four of themselves. It used to be called five-in-one portraits. I’m building it for one of the festival booths. We’ll sell the photos from the multigraph like it was done in the 1920’s.” He looked over his shoulder at Daniel. “It’s math and science.”
“Ha-ha-ha. I got that. A smoke and mirrors kind of math and science.”
“You take that end,” Big said, pointing to where the two mirrors were joined inside a frame. “It’s heavier. I want to see if your fancy muscles are just for show.” He grinned.
“Not just for show.” Daniel laughed, grabbing the bottom of the mirror frame and easing it off the floor. “Ask Aurora.”
Big put his hands on his hips, and puffed up his chest, making himself look impossibly taller and larger. “What the hell are you saying? If you did anything to that girl…”
“Woman. She’s a woman…”
Big took a step forward, his hands dropping to his sides in beefy fists. His nostrils flared. “You have two seconds to explain what you meant by Aurora knows your muscles aren’t just for show.” There was heat and anger behind his words.
“Whoa. Whoa. I’ll fight you if you want, but there would be no point to it, except a little entertainment. I was talking about her witnessing me handling the deer.” Daniel eased the mirror down. “I should be the one angry with you. Why in the hell do you have a PhD Art History mural artist who’s afraid of wild animals walking one? It’s way below her pay grade and well above her fear tolerance.”
The Nutcracker Reimagined: A Collection of Christmas Tales Page 45