by Sue Brown
Another of them shushed him, but he had a point. It was obvious that the woman was heavily pregnant. Noel didn’t know much about pregnancy, but he’d have thought skiing wasn’t recommended because of the risks. Noel watched as Don bent down to talk to the woman and then ticked a name off his list.
She climbed into the bus with Don’s help and, with a sigh of relief, sat on the seat just behind the driver and turned to give them all a tired smile. “Hi, guys. I’m Maria Ricci.”
There was a cheery greeting from the back, and Marv went through the names again. Noel managed a “Noel.” She nodded again at them.
“Are you on your own?” Marv asked, and without turning around Noel could hear the curiosity in his voice.
“Yeah, my husband had to work.” She sounded exhausted and Marv didn’t question her further.
Don loaded her suitcase, shut the doors, and climbed into the driver’s seat. “We can go now.”
“Is this all?” Marv asked.
Don nodded. “We’re two rooms down at the moment because of emergency renovation. We had a flood three weeks ago. And now two guests down too. There’s going to be plenty of Christmas dinner for everyone.”
“Result!” one of the other men crowed. “More space in the hot tub.”
Noel wanted to plant one on his face. He was breaking apart and this guy was worried about space in a hot tub? He caught Maria glancing his way and knew his feelings must be splayed over his face. She gave him a brief nod and for a moment, his hurt eased with that simple gesture. To his relief, she kept quiet and just stared out at the road. Don pulled into the line of vehicles leaving the airport.
Noel suddenly remembered about Angel and turned to look out the back, but the parking lot had long since vanished. Then he turned to the front and tried to quell the guilt he felt at not helping Angel. That’s what resort reps were for, Noel thought. He would be all right. Maybe he’d see Angel on the slopes.
The trip took a couple of hours. Usually Noel would have looked out the window for the whole journey and soaked up the scenery, but now he spent most of it thinking about his last conversation with Adam, over and over, like a hamster on a wheel. Was there something different he could have said? Could he have changed Adam’s mind if he’d had more time to process what Adam said? “You’re dumped, you’re boring, I don’t love you” was hard to misinterpret. Why didn’t Adam talk to him before he got this unhappy? Noel leaned his head against the window and sighed. Would it have made any difference? He knew Adam well enough to know that once he’d made up his mind, it was impossible to change it.
The sound of the road under the tires changed, and Noel looked up to see they were driving up a small road between lines of snow-clad trees.
“You’ve had a lot of snow,” Maria said to Don.
“We have this year,” he agreed. “And there’s another snowstorm coming in tonight.”
“I think I’ll stay by the fire,” Maria said. “Tell me you’ve got a fire?”
Don gave a rumbling chuckle. “A big log fire and comfortable chairs. You’ll be fine.”
She sighed happily. “That sounds more like it. Oh, wow.”
Noel looked up to see what had prompted the awe in her tone. Don parked the bus outside a huge log cabin with a wraparound porch. It was fairy-tale beautiful, with snow on the roof and twinkling lights draped along the porch. A very handsome young man stood in the doorway, wearing a cream Aran knit sweater.
“So pretty,” Maria breathed. Noel wasn’t sure if she was talking about the chalet or the man. Maybe both.
“We’re here,” Don boomed.
“Thank goodness,” Maria said. “I need a bathroom break.”
“One minute.” Don hopped out and came around to help Maria out of the bus. Noel jumped down and heard the crisp snow crunch under his boots, and the three men followed him.
The pretty young man joined them. “Welcome to The Last Pine. I’m your host, Charlie Shepherd, and you’ve already met my right-hand man, Don.”
Noel took one look at the tender expression shared between the two men and immediately wanted to run away. Right-hand man or partner? Now he had to face the Christmas break with a loved-up gay couple. Did life want to kick him in the balls another time today?
“Mr. Garrett? Noel?”
Noel blinked at the sound of his name and he realized Charlie was standing in front of him. “Yes?”
“Do you want to come inside? It’s cold out here.”
They were the only ones left outside. Everyone else had gone in. Noel hadn’t noticed.
“I should go home,” he blurted out.
Charlie furrowed his brow. “Now?”
Noel nodded mutely. He could go home, make nice with Adam, and everything would be fine. He could propose to Adam another time. Panic built inside him. He needed to leave.
“Did Don tell you there’s a storm moving in?” Charlie spoke in a gentle tone, as though he were trying not to spook Noel.
Noel nodded again.
“You probably wouldn’t get a flight out before the storm. Why don’t you stay here for the night, and we can try to get you a flight tomorrow?” Before Noel had a chance to answer or run away, Charlie put an arm around him and guided him into the house. “Boots here.” Charlie pointed to a boot rack and then to a room off the hallway. “Wet gear in the mudroom to save the hardwood floors. You don’t want to know how much they charge me to polish them.” He winked conspiratorially.
The panic gripping Noel eased a fraction with the inevitability of being stuck here until tomorrow. He couldn’t do anything now except take off his boots and coat and let Charlie lead him down the hallway to a corner room, pointing out other rooms as they went.
“Here’s your room. You booked the corner suite, yes? We’ll be meeting in the great room in ten minutes. There’s coffee and other drinks if you want.” Charlie handed him a key and smiled sweetly. “Ten minutes, okay?”
“Okay.”
Noel held the key and watched Charlie vanish down the hallway. Or he could just lock himself in his room for seven days and not come out.
Chapter 2—Day 1
late morning
HIS ROOM was everything he’d wanted for their vacation. Cream walls and drapes with accents of mocha and peach. A king-size bed dominated the room with enough pillows for a football team to have the best pillow fight ever. Watercolor paintings of the local area hung on the walls rather than the generic prints he was used to in hotels. The wide double doors led to the wraparound porch and views of the mountains. It must have been spectacular to have the doors open in the summer. Noel had loved the room when he originally booked it. He wanted to give Adam fairy-tale romance for his proposal. Now he was alone and had no one to share it with.
Noel placed the small leather box on one of the nightstands. He had less than ten minutes now—no time to fall apart, no time to curl up in a ball and forget about the world. He splashed his face with water in the adjoining bathroom, dried it, and picked up the key.
“You can fucking do this, Garrett,” he said out loud.
The silence just laughed at him.
He locked the door to his bedroom and went in search of the great room. He found the rest of the party in a huge room with a blazing fire and comfortable couches and chairs dotted around. More paintings of local scenes hung on the walls. One corner was dominated by a huge oak table laden with sandwiches, chips, pretzels, and other snacks. The three men from the bus sat on a large overstuffed couch, talking to Don, and Maria sat in a wing-back chair, her feet resting on a footstool and her eyes closed. Charlie was nowhere to be seen.
Noel poured himself a cup of coffee, dumped sugar and creamer into the aromatic strong black liquid, and stirred. He pulled out one of the seats by the table, hoping no one would try to engage him in conversation. Maria opened one eye, gave him the briefest of smiles before dozing again. Don looked over but at Noel’s lack of response focused his attention on the three men.
Charlie
beamed at them when he came in and gave an extra sweet smile to Don. “Good. You’re all here. Let’s get down to housekeeping.”
Noel focused on his coffee. Seeing Charlie and Don so happy together was like someone up there was mocking him. He usually loved being around gay and lesbian couples. It was as though he and his friends could be the same as everyone else. But now, seeing their love reminded him of what he had lost.
He barely listened as Charlie explained about meal times, apologized about the lack of other guests because they’d had a flood in two of the rooms, and provided more information that Noel didn’t care about. He excused himself from the table as soon as possible, pleading a headache, and they told him to rest. The guys were hitting the slopes. Maria giggled, saying she could roll down after them and become a snowball. Noel smiled politely and hurried out of the room. He was a breath away from cracking. Or screaming. He’d go to bed, forget about dinner, and sleep until morning. Then he could get out on the slopes and ski his heartache away.
“Noel?”
Dammit. He hadn’t managed to escape before Charlie caught him, so he plastered on a smile and turned around.
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?” The pitying look on Charlie’s face was more than he could bear. Noel gritted his teeth and nodded.
“I’m fine. Just tired. I think I’ll rest before dinner.”
It didn’t matter if he didn’t appear. He was sure the three men would eat his food from the way they packed away lunch, particularly the small skinny guy. What was his name? Mark? Martin?
“Are you sure?”
Charlie didn’t look convinced, but Noel didn’t hang around to find out what else he had to say. He could already feel the lump forming in his throat. Holding a conversation was impossible. He rushed down the corridor, fumbled as he tried to put the key in the lock, managed to turn it, and then he was in the room. He locked the door, not wanting anyone to disturb him, then he slid down to the floor, buried his face in his hands, and let the tears fall.
Noel cried for a long time, until his eyes and cheeks were raw from the tears. He never saw it coming. He knew Adam was restless, but he’d always been restless. Adam just needed to find the next thing he wanted to do, and Noel indulged him because it made Adam happy.
Noel swallowed hard, tried to draw air into his lungs, and just managed to let a new spill of tears loose. Finally he cried himself hoarse, his heart aching even more. He climbed wearily to his feet, hunted for the bottle of whiskey, uncapped it, and took a long slug. The liquor burned its way through his system, but he welcomed the almost pain. He drank more until he felt steadier and he could take the few steps into the bathroom without collapsing. But he refused to study himself in the mirror, not wanting to see the wreck of his reflection as he splashed cold water on his face, trying to calm the soreness. Then he returned to the bedroom and sat on the bed. He knocked back another long chug of whiskey and his stomach lurched. For some reason Angel’s face wove unsteadily into his mind, his sweet face wearing a reproachful look. Noel scoffed and he drank again. This time the room did a lazy spin. Maybe drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t a great idea. He eyed the bottle although it took him a moment to focus. It was already half empty. He needed to lie down for a while or he’d finish the bottle, and he was still sober enough to know that was a bad idea.
Noel shoved all the pillows to one side, not caring if they fell on the floor, and lay down. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the small leather box on the nightstand, mocking him with its happiness lost. He turned his head and closed his eyes. He was going to sleep, and if he never woke up, that was fine too. Noel ignored the small voice that told him he was being melodramatic. He had a right to grieve.
When he woke he was disoriented for a moment. Where was he? Then the day came rushing back, the heartache knocking the breath out of him. He squinted at the clock on the nightstand. It was five o’clock. He’d been asleep for barely two hours, but the sun had set and the room was in darkness. Not nearly long enough. Noel scowled, rolled over, ignoring the lurch of his belly at the sudden movement and closed his sore eyes, only to open them again when there was a knock. Was that what had woken him before?
He ignored it and hoped whoever it was would go away. But they knocked again, and then he heard, “Noel? Are you there?”
“Perhaps he’s gone out,” someone muttered. It was a deep rumbling voice that Noel recognized as Don.
“I don’t think so,” Charlie said. “His jacket’s still here, and I would have known if he left the chalet.”
Noel flopped onto his back when there was another knock. They weren’t going to leave him alone, were they? “Yes?” He had to say it again because his voice cracked, his throat hoarse from the crying and drinking. “Yes?”
“Noel?”
Who the hell were they expecting, considering they’d called his name for the past five minutes?
“I’m coming.” He sat up, his stomach roiling at the change in position. Then he shuffled to the door, praying he wouldn’t vomit on Charlie’s shoes, and unlocked it and opened it a crack. “Yes?”
Charlie’s smile faded as he saw Noel’s face. “Are you all right?”
Did he really need an answer to that?
Noel sighed. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”
Charlie seemed to be derailed on whatever he was about to say. Don frowned and said, “There’s a snowstorm coming in overnight, and flights have been delayed.”
“Yes?” Noel tried not to make it a snap, but what had that got to do with him?
Don’s scowl deepened. “The resort will be cut off, and we have a problem. There’s been an overbooking in one of the other chalets. Fourteen people are without beds overnight.”
“We’ve managed to accommodate thirteen people, but we’re struggling to find one last bed,” Charlie added.
Charlie and Don were doing a weird dance in his head. Noel leaned against the doorframe, trying to make sense of what Charlie was telling him. He looked at the large bed in his room. “You want me to share my bed?”
Noel had a horrible suspicion of what he was about to be asked next, and the answer was an emphatic no.
“We can put a cot up in your room,” Charlie said. “Our other rooms aren’t habitable.”
“You’re telling me this is the only room left in the entire resort? You’re joking,” Noel scoffed. “In a resort this size. What about the hotels?”
“They’re dealing with the people who can’t get on the flights. It’s for one night only, Noel. After that we’ll have space.”
“I don’t think—” Noel started.
“It’s all right, Charlie. I can sleep on a sofa somewhere. You said it’s just for one night.”
That was a third voice—someone Noel couldn’t see between the wall of Charlie’s worry and Don’s scowl. Don was obviously ready to throw him out and put the other guy in his place. Then they moved like the parting of the sea, and Noel saw the almost white blond hair and pale green eyes of someone he recognized.
“Angel?” Noel said.
He smiled tiredly. “Hi, Noel. Surprise.”
“You know each other?” Charlie asked, looking between the two of them.
Noel ignored him and focused his attention on Angel. “You’re the one without a bed?”
Angel gave a wry smile. “I’ve spent the last six hours trying to find one.”
He couldn’t really say no, could he? Noel huffed out a breath and stood back to let Angel into the room. “Sure, if it’s just for one night.”
Charlie beamed at him, and Don’s scowl dialed down from angry to plain irritated.
“Great,” Charlie said. “I’ll get Don to bring the cot to your room. Dinner’s at six. Angel, do you have any food requirements I should know?”
Angel shook his head. “I eat most things.”
Charlie’s smile widened, obviously pleased with the answer. “We’ll see you at the table.”
“Sure.”
&nb
sp; Charlie shot Noel a worried look, and then they vanished, leaving him alone with Angel, who didn’t move until Noel realized he’d dumped his case where the cot was going to have to go.
“I’ll move my gear.”
He shoved his suitcase into a corner, and Angel moved over to his side of the room, still looking unsure what to do.
“Thanks,” Angel murmured. “I’m sorry. Were you asleep?”
“Yeah.” Noel grabbed the whiskey bottle from the nightstand.
Angel leaned forward and took it from him. “You don’t need any more of this.”
It was Noel’s whiskey, and if he wanted it, he would have it. He contemplated wrestling Angel for the bottle. But the energy drained out of Noel. It wasn’t worth the argument. He just needed to sleep.
“I appreciate you taking me in,” Angel said as he placed the whiskey bottle on the dresser and focused his attention on Noel.
“I could hardly throw you out into the snowstorm,” Noel muttered. “It’s one night.”
Angel looked a little sad. “Yeah, just for one night.”
That was the limit of Noel’s ability to be social. No matter how nice the man was, Noel just wanted to hide. “I’m sorry, but the alcohol has caught up with me. I’m going back to sleep.”
“I’ll wake you up for dinner,” Angel said.
Noel shook his head. “Don’t bother. I think I’ll sleep through to breakfast.”
Angel frowned. “You should eat and drink water.”
“I don’t want to.”
Noel was starting to regret his decision on letting Angel share his room. He didn’t need a lecture on hydration from a total stranger. He curled up in his bed, back to Angel, making it clear the conversation was over, having done his good deed for the day. He didn’t have to make an effort to be social. There was a quiet sigh, but Angel didn’t say anything else. Noel could hear Angel moving around in the room, although the man didn’t talk. But even the way he moved was soothing, and Noel was lulled back to sleep.
When he woke again, the room was in darkness except for the dim light of one lamp on the nightstand, and there was no sign of Angel. He had a pounding headache, and his mouth felt like something rank had crawled in and died. Maybe Angel had a point about needing water, but he didn’t want to move. Then he saw something that hadn’t been on his nightstand before. He raised his head to see a bottle of water, still covered in condensation and icy cold, and a bottle of Tylenol.