Snowed In At Snowflake B&B: The perfect heartwarming Christmas romance to curl up with in 2020!

by Kellie Hailes

  Reuben tried to ignore the leaden feeling in his heart that grew heavier with each passing second as he watched their lover’s embrace. He’d had that once. And he’d taken it for granted. Ruined it by not giving Elise what she needed. By being too wrapped up in his career. In himself.

  Never again. It was time he grew, time he looked out at the world, rather than stayed in his own head. It was time he became a better man, as much for his own benefit as for another woman’s, should he ever find himself within reach of a second chance at love.

  ‘Cut it out, you two.’ Sam stuck her finger in her throat and faked gagging. ‘There are plenty of private places for that sort of behaviour in the house.’ Her face, screwed up in faux revulsion, straightened out as a sunny grin lit up her face. ‘Besides, you’ll make us single types even more aware of how alone we are in the world, and that’s just cruel.’

  Flo disentangled her arms from around Stefan, took his hand, nodded a red-cheeked goodbye and dragged a laughing Stefan back to the house.

  ‘You’re burning the couch, right?’ Sam raised her brows. ‘I mean, the more I think about it the more sure I am that they sullied it with their affection the other day.’ She let out a pah of disgust as she pulled on her skates, pushed herself up and inched towards the pond.

  ‘I think I shall repurpose it rather than going to the effort of burning it.’ Reuben eyed the skates nervously. ‘I do believe there are some woodland animals that might enjoy making their home in or on the thing.’

  ‘Excellent decision.’ Sam stepped out onto the ice like it was no big deal and began to push herself around it, doing the odd spin and turn, her arms splaying out like a ballerina’s.

  ‘You’re good.’ Reuben laced the boots up and pushed himself into a standing position, then promptly overbalanced and had to circle his arms in a most unmanly manner in order to get himself in a safe, upright position. ‘And I’m probably going to kill myself out on that pond.’

  ‘Well, at least I’ll be here to tell everyone you died doing what you hated most.’ Sam slowed to a stop in front of him. ‘Honestly, it’s fine once you get the hang of it. Here, give me your hand.’

  She reached for him and Reuben eyed her open hand, afraid that if he took it they’d both end up crashing onto the pond.

  ‘One hand not good enough? Lucky for you I’ve another.’ She offered her other one. ‘Take both. Dig your feet into the snow to get a bit more balance then step out. I won’t let us fall. I promise.’

  Sincerity shone in her eyes, and in that moment Reuben knew he could trust Sam, with his business, with his life.

  With his heart.

  The thought took him by surprise and he wobbled as he stepped out onto the ice. Sam, making good on her promise, took his elbow and steadied him.

  ‘There you go. You’re fine. Now let’s go for a slow shuffle and see how we fare. I won’t leave your side until you feel safe.’

  ‘You’re too good to me.’ Reuben wrapped his hand around hers and held it tight as they half-walked half-skidded around the pond. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It’s nothing.’ Sam waved his words away. ‘I’d do the same for Stefan if he looked as terrified as you do right now.’

  ‘Oh come on, you wouldn’t. Even you’re not that nice.’

  Sam giggled. ‘You’re right. I’m not. I’d make him figure it out himself as payback for being so arsey about the marshmallows.’

  Reuben glanced down at his feet, which had begun to move on their own without his brain repeating ‘shuffle, glide, shuffle, glide’.

  ‘I think I’m getting the hang of this,’ he exclaimed, then promptly lost his balance and nearly fell over, taking them both out.

  ‘I think you nearly have the hang of it.’ In a fluid move Sam unhooked her arm from his, twisted so she was facing him and began gliding backwards. ‘Try it without me adding weight to one side.’ She nodded encouragingly. ‘You’ve got this.’

  How did she have so much faith in him when he had so little in himself?

  The urge to do Sam proud overwhelmed him, and he put his focus on putting one foot in front of the other, each time gliding a little longer.

  Sam clapped and let out a whoop. ‘There you go! You’re amazing!’

  She circled him as he continued his circuit around the pond, and he couldn’t help but notice the way the late afternoon sun caught the curls that peeked out beneath her hat, gold thread entwined with rich russet, how the tip of her petite nose had become pink with the chill in the air, how her small but plump lips had gone almost ruby red with the cold. What would it be like to kiss those lips? To feel them respond to him? To want him as he wanted her – this beautiful, effervescent, interesting, caring woman?

  He summoned the energy to skate faster, intent on reaching Sam. On keeping up with her. On taking this moment in moment in time where neither of them had to think about work or worries, and enjoying it. He stretched his hands out to her, the joy in his heart expanding as she reached for him.

  Followed by her legs wobbling like a new-born foal as a crack split the air.

  Reuben glanced down. The crack in the air matched the cracks that had appeared underneath their feet.

  His heart slammed against his ribcage as fear erased any other emotions.

  What had Sam said? It wasn’t deep, so she wouldn’t drown. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t freeze, get frostbite, catch a cold… or worse.

  ‘Stay still, Reuben. Don’t move.’

  What the hell? Sam was calming him? Caring about him? When she was the one in immediate danger?

  ‘Don’t you move,’ Reuben shot back. ‘It might crack further.’

  ‘I’m going to move, but you have to trust me, okay?’ Her eyes were wide, fearful, but her demeanour was iron-strong. That of a person who knew they’d be fine as long as they were in control of the situation. ‘And when it’s your turn you do exactly as I say, okay?’

  Reuben nodded, knowing he had no other choice. Every fibre of his being wanted to go to her, to take her hands in his and pull her to safety, but he wasn’t a small man and going to her would put them in further danger.

  Inch by painful-to-watch inch, Sam brought herself down to the level of the ice, until she was lying flat her arms and legs spread out. With just as deliberate slowness she brought her arms above her head then, with such concentration Reuben swore he could see her whole body vibrating, she rolled away from the crack towards the edge of the pond. Again. And again. Until she was safely back on the snow.

  ‘Now you do it,’ she instructed between sucking in lungfuls of air.

  In low tones she instructed him how to get off the pond, and in a painfully long minute he was rolling to its side. Over and over, until he rolled over the lip, and…

  Onto Sam. His legs scissored between hers, his chest hovered above hers, the distance between their lips all of a few centimetres. Kiss-close.

  Her chest rose to meet his then fell. Her eyes sparkled with good humour as her lips parted and her head tilted.

  Was she going to? Were they about to? Reuben’s heart rate, already sky-high, increased further as he considered what was about to happen…

  ‘I don’t know about you, but my arse is wet.’

  Sam’s statement was so matter-of-fact in the face of an intense situation that Reuben found himself shaking with laughter. Laughter that erupted and spilled over the tranquil landscape. The act relaxing his tense muscles, seeing him collapse upon Sam, her arms encircling his waist as her laugh joined his. Melded. The two sounds working harmoniously together to ease the last of the worry, the panic, the anxiety, the fear… that had built up not just in the last few minutes but over many months.

  He managed to pull himself up once more, to give her space, to show he wasn’t taking advantage of their situation. Her hand reached for his and their fingers curled around each other, supported each other.

  ‘Thanks for not falling through.’ He pushed a lock of Sam’s hair away from her cheek.

&nbs
p; She smiled up at him, soft and heart-achingly sweet. ‘Thanks for not trying to save me.’

  Their eyes locked. Tension, a new kind, sprung between them. One dense with longing, with desire. Curiosity and cautiousness.

  A snowflake drifted down and settled on Sam’s hat. Followed by another on her cheek. One on her eyelash.

  How he wanted to kiss them away. To show his appreciation of her in a more meaningful way than scrubbing a sink.

  Reuben lifted his eyes to the sky, which had clouded over once more. ‘We should head in.’

  ‘We really should.’ Sam wriggled closer.

  Her scent – all sugar and salt and spice – invaded his senses, and sent his sensibilities scattering. His heart thundered in his chest as her arm, still around his waist, pulled him closer still, her head angled up to meet his… Her lips pursing then opening as wide as her eyes as an ‘oof’ rushed from her mouth.

  ‘Snowball fight!’ A series of whoops and war cries followed.

  Reuben rolled off Sam, stood, then ducked as another snowball was lobbed in their direction from a grinning Stefan and Flo, who were already scraping the ground, creating more ammunition, while Harry and Matilda ran to the left and began scooping up snow at a rate that told Reuben they meant business.

  He shot Sam a wry smile, and she lifted her shoulders in an ‘if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em’ way as she began building a makeshift fort for them to hide behind, while Harry and Matilda attacked Flo and Stefan from behind.

  Scuttling on all fours towards her, Reuben began heaping up snow onto her structure, diving as another snowball hurtled towards him, all the while not sure whether he wanted to curse the interruption, or if it were a case of being saved by the snowball.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sam set the steaming mugs of marshmallow-less hot chocolate in front of Harry and Matilda, who’d retired post-snowball fight to the drawing room as they were unable to face the garishness of the sitting room.

  ‘Can I get you anything else? There’s some gingerbread men left over? Anatomically correct ones at that?’ She waggled her brows in her best inviting manner, then laughed as Matilda violently shook her head at the same time as Harry. ‘I’ll take that as a no, then.’

  She left the two of them curled up on the couch reading and made her way up the stairs with the intention to work on the website on Reuben’s backup laptop that he’d lent her, and to think. The day had started out so fun, then turned… different.

  She hadn’t been prepared for the blossoming of attraction between her and Reuben. Hadn’t expected that he would want to kiss her. And, as terrifying a prospect as that was given her reticence to get involved with a man, in that heart-racing moment she would’ve let him. Would’ve put aside the voices of caution reminding her he was her boss, that he was hiding things from her, that he wasn’t entirely who he seemed, and listened to the smaller voice that had broken through, begging her to trust Reuben, to trust herself with him.

  Confusion swirled low in her stomach as she tried to figure out what she wanted from Reuben. What she wanted from herself.

  There was one thing for it – what she needed was to call the one person who knew her, who understood her fears around relationships. Who’d been there herself.

  Sam entered her room and shut the door behind her for privacy, then picked up her mobile, grateful to see the reception had improved, and sent a text to her mother.

  Hey Mum, you about?

  Three little dots quickly appeared.

  Of course. What’s up?

  Sam hit the call button, then flopped back on her bed and stared up at the ceiling.

  Her mother answered on the first ring. ‘Sam, are you okay? Is everything fine up there?’

  ‘I’m…’ Sam searched for the right word, quickly dismissing ‘confused’, ‘overwhelmed’, ‘worried’ and ‘terrified’. ‘I’m okay, I guess. I just…’

  ‘My bum-kicking foot is itchy. Does it need to be put to use?’

  Of course her mother went straight to that, to a man hurting Sam. It was all she’d known for as long as Sam was alive. First her husband behaving as a tyrant, ruling over his family with an iron fist and a petulant temper, then her daughter experiencing an abusive relationship.

  ‘Your foot needs to stand down, Mum. Reuben’s not like that. Nothing like that.’

  ‘Oh.’ A long silence followed. ‘And that’s the problem? You’re afraid.’

  ‘I am.’ Tears blurred Sam’s vision as she whispered the words, as she admitted to herself, to her mother, the truth. She didn’t know how to be with a man. Didn’t know how to let one in. How to free herself from her fears. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘I’d say just be yourself, but if you’re calling me then he likes you being you. Should I suggest you behave like a horror? That would at least push him away.’

  Sam knew her mother was joking, but part of her wished she wasn’t. Pushing Reuben away would be ideal; it would keep her safe. But did she want to be safe? Did she want to spend her whole life alone because she feared making the same mistake again? Because she didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of the past?

  ‘I have to give him a chance,’ she said as much to her mother as to herself. ‘I can’t go on living my life like this. I need to stop getting in my own way.’

  ‘There’s my girl. My brave little soldier.’ Her mother inhaled sharply, then exhaled long and slow. ‘I wish I was more like you, Sam. You’ve never let your fears get in the way of what you want – not for long, anyway. You’ve always pushed through.’

  Sam’s heart went out to her mother. She’d not even looked twice at a man since her husband had passed away. Was she missing a man’s company? Was she too afraid, like Sam, to trust another man after living with an oppressive bully?

  ‘You are like me, Mum. Where do you think I get my me-ness from? Remember how you were worried about starting up Gin Club because you thought the locals would call you a lush? Didn’t happen. They’re all still hoping for an invitation to join.’

  Her mother laughed her soft, sweet laugh. ‘Maybe you’re right.’

  ‘I am.’ Sam pushed herself up. ‘Thanks for listening to me, Mum.’

  ‘I barely did anything.’

  Sam could almost hear her mother’s eye-roll.

  ‘Just having you listen did more than you could imagine.’

  ‘Well I’m here for that, anytime.’

  There was another long pause, and Sam could just imagine her mother standing in her kitchen, gnawing at her bottom lip, her face creased with worry. ‘Love you, my girl. Take care, okay?’

  ‘Always, Mum. I promise.’ Sam set her phone down, her heart and mind lighter for simply expressing her concerns out loud. She grabbed the laptop, deciding the kitchen would be a more comfortable place to work, and headed back into the hall, pausing outside Reuben’s study.

  The door was slightly ajar and she could make out the faint glow of a lamp. She strained to hear a sound, an indication of him being in there, but all was silent.

  ‘You walk like a miniature elephant. Come in.’

  The last of the nerves in her gut loosened at the good-natured – but no less true – insult.

  She pushed open the door and stomped her way to one of the two bottle green, wing-backed chairs that were placed on the opposite side of the desk, set the laptop down on Reuben’s desk and plonked herself into the seat. ‘I can’t be upset at that insult – it’s absolutely true. Although I’m more of a full-grown elephant than a mini one. My brothers thought it was hilarious that I couldn’t walk two steps without getting in trouble with my father.’ In trouble? That was putting it mildly.

  She pushed down the panic that sprung up whenever the subject of her childhood and her father was skirted.

  ‘He worked night shift? Needed his sleep?’ Reuben glanced up from his laptop.

  He was wearing black-rimmed glasses, and a lock of grey hair had flopped over his forehead, almost obscuring his eyes. For one mad
second Sam imagined herself climbing on the desk, pushing the hair to the side and taking his mouth with her own. While keeping the spectacles in place. Because they were far too attractive to be cast aside.

  As was the man wearing them.

  She blinked in an attempt to get the steamy encounter out of her head.

  ‘Eyes all right?’ Reuben’s lips quirked to the side.

  ‘Er, yes.’ She made a show of rubbing them. ‘Eyelash. Eyelashes. Irritating things that they are.’ More like her imagination was the irritating thing. ‘And my father didn’t work night shift. He didn’t work at all. Left that to my mother.’ Left my mother to do everything. Clean the house. Raise us kids. Earn money by taking on taking on sewing work. A job she could do under his watchful eye while he lay around, watched television and expected to be waited on hand and foot. ‘He was just a very particular man.’

  Reuben closed his laptop. ‘Hmm, “particular”. Interesting word to describe a man you repeatedly call “my father” rather than “dad”. You’re not even calling him “father”; it’s like by using “my” you’re putting extra distance between the relationship.’

  Prickles of discomfort raced over her skin and she hoped Reuben didn’t pick up on the full body shiver that joined it.

  ‘I see what you’re doing there Mr Meant-To-Be-Writing Man.’ She wagged her finger at him like you would a small child caught getting into mischief. ‘Don’t you try and use investigating me and my family life as an excuse to get out of work, or watching videos of kittens on the internet. Whatever it was you were doing there.’

  ‘And don’t use my watching cute videos of puppies on the internet as a way to get out of talking about you.’ He raised his brows, daring her to deny her plan of interrogation escape.

  Sam went to push herself out of the chair and leave. She had no interest in talking about the man whose DNA ran through her. Who’d made her childhood woeful instead of whimsical and wonderful. Whose attitudes had imbued in her a need to have everything in order, everything as peaceful as possible, not to mention that failed dalliance with another man in the hopes she could do for him what she could not for her father – make him happy.