A Wrong Bed Christmas: IgnitedWhere There's Smoke

by Kimberly Van Meter

  “Look,” she said.

  Erik had been moving his phone up and down, left and right, watching the left corner of his phone’s screen. If he could just get one freaking bar. For the love of Pete, one bar.

  Ripping his attention away, he followed her pointed finger to a small reflector buried in the grass.

  Erik shoved his useless cell phone into his coat pocket and jogged over to the reflective glass. “I’ll be damned. It’s an old driveway.”

  3

  EMMA WAS OFFICIALLY creeped out. The musty cabin hadn’t likely hosted occupants in years. “This is so strange. Feels like a B movie and any minute a guy with a chain saw will pop out at us.” She ran her gloved finger over the layer of dust on the small table.

  “Already had that thought,” Erik said, pushing the door he’d kicked in closed. The gray skies looked threatening and she could smell the snow in the air. Temps had already dropped since they’d hiked to the cabin.

  The place was rustic...if run-down was considered rustic. But at one point it must have been a nice getaway. A small frozen pond sat just beyond, at the edge of the thick woods. The cabin was a one-roomer with a small kitchenette, a fridge and an unmade double bed. Faded gingham curtains hung in the two small windows and the decor was decidedly eighties with a focus on fish.

  Emma pulled open the fridge and then immediately closed it. It had been empty but smelled like death. “Ugh.”

  Erik rifled through a few cabinets. “Here’s a flashlight that, uh, doesn’t work. And a box of crackers dated 2001 and a tin of Spam. Matches.” He shook the box.

  Emma opened the only other door in the cabin and found a small bathroom with a toilet, sink and tiny shower. She twisted the faucet and water came out. “We have water,” she shouted back to Erik.

  “And the stove is gas. Though it’s probably not hooked up any longer,” Erik said.

  “At least there’s a fireplace.” She pointed toward the empty grate. She walked over to the wood box. “Oh, and they left wood in the bin.”

  “I’ll check the flue and then start the fire,” he said, walking toward the fireplace.

  “Does that mean we’re staying here tonight?” she asked, knowing the answer but dreading his confirmation. A storm gathered outside and they were ill prepared...and very much alone.

  “We’ll have to. It’s getting dark and looks like snow is on the way. We’ll stay here and then tomorrow morning we’ll head back to the road and try our luck finding help. Now, let me get that fire going. I’m frozen.”

  Emma plucked the matches from his hand. “You walk back to the car and get my luggage while I start the fire. I have some cookies and a wrapped tin of chocolates. It won’t be much to eat, but it will be better than old Spam.”

  Erik looked as if he would argue, but instead shrugged. “Okay. Check the flue and stack the wood. We’ll light it when I get back.”

  “I can manage lighting a fire, Erik.”

  He pressed his lips into a line. “Look, I’m a firefighter and that’s a fireplace that hasn’t been used in years. Just let me have control of this one thing. Please.”

  She started to argue because he treated her like the kid she used to be. The awkward twelve-year-old who wandered into a beehive on the campout she’d gone on with his family, the newly licensed driver who had to call him to bring the gas can, the graduating senior who’d accidentally started a fire in the Matheson side yard on the Fourth of July. But Emma wasn’t that gauche girl any longer. She could build a freaking fire without burning the place down.

  But something in his expression stopped her.

  Here was a commanding man accustomed to being in control of all things. At that moment he had none.

  “Yes, Firefighter Matheson,” she said, saluting and trying out a smile. If she was going to be holed up with a bossy firefighter in the middle of a potential snowstorm while missing her parents’ award presentation, she needed to find her sense of humor.

  And some self-control.

  One bed, a roaring fire and the sexy guy she’d always had the hots for felt like an assload of temptation.

  He looked hard at her and for a moment she wondered if he could see her thoughts. Did he know she wanted him...that she’d always wanted him?

  No. She was the master of hiding feelings. Besides, Erik had never seen her as anyone other than his younger sister’s nerdy friend.

  “Okay. Stay here. Be safe.”

  A blast of cold air roared in when he opened the door. “Be careful,” she called as he walked back into the world of white. If he was going to give orders, so was she.

  Thirty minutes later, Erik pushed back in. While he’d been gone, she’d scoured the cabin looking for supplies. There wasn’t much left behind in the place, but she’d found pillows, sheets and a few wool blankets in the bathroom closet. She’d aired them out, snapping them over the two tweed chairs centered in front of the fireplace. She’d also found some old rags under the sink along with a near-empty bottle of cleaner and had wiped down the counters and tabletop. The place still felt grimy, but at least now spiderwebs and dust weren’t adding to the ambience.

  “Jesus, it’s cold outside,” Erik said, rolling in her suitcase and dumping her emergency car kit on the floor. Inside, she had a first-aid kit and a few other things like bottled water, an extra blanket and a pack of tampons.

  “And snowing hard,” Emma said, watching as he unwound his plaid wool scarf from his head and shrugged out of his jacket. Snow coated his dark hair and he brushed it off. He wore a navy cable-knit sweater underneath, worn jeans and work boots. He’d been better prepared than she had. Her poor suede boots were ruined and the leggings she wore a flimsy barrier against the cold.

  “You cleaned up a bit,” he said, his gaze sweeping the place. When he looked at the bed, something hot slithered into her belly. “Brr, let’s get that fire lit.”

  Emma dragged her damp suitcase toward the table and wiped away the excess moisture, glad she’d gotten a hard-shell case. Hoisting it, she pulled out the box of homemade chocolate-chip cookies along with the cylinder containing the expensive bottle of wine she’d gotten for her epicurean father. A flat box of handmade chocolates for her aunt Della also joined the stack. And as a plus, she found two protein bars she’d tucked into the pocket lining the case. Not the best dinner, but it would do until they could get back to civilization tomorrow.

  The crackle of the lit fire drew her attention and instantly made the space cozy and—she licked her lips—intimate.

  “Ah,” Erik said, stripping off his gloves and warming his hands in front of the blaze. “Good thing this wood is aged and dry. Instant warmth. Come on over and warm up.”

  Emma hesitated for a moment, trying to regain a calm, less amorous demeanor. So they were alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with a bottle of wine, chocolate and a double bed? Big deal. She could handle it. After all, she’d never allowed her attraction for him to show through.

  She walked over and crouched beside him, sighing at the warmth. Exploring the cabin had kept her moving, but her fingers and feet were numb.

  “Here,” he said, grabbing the nearest chair and dragging it close to the dancing flames. “Sit.”

  Seconds later they each sat in matching chairs, thawing out.

  “I can’t believe we’re stuck here,” she mused aloud, the warmth making her drowsy. She suppressed a yawn. “This is like a movie I once saw.”

  “Misery?” he joked.

  Emma laughed. “Are you planning on incapacitating me and making me write you a romance story?”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “That could be fun. But I could think of better things to do.”

  “Well, I saw some puzzles in the back of the storage closet. We can do one of those,” Emma said, nervous about the direction the conversation headed
. She wasn’t a dumb-dumb; she knew that as a firefighter, Erik would never sleep with an unattended fire, which meant at some point he’d have to extinguish the fire. The room would get cold. Really cold. And there was that one bed sitting there like an elephant in the room...just not as noisy. Pair that with the fact she could easily be persuaded to find an upside to sharing body warmth and Emma could be in trouble.

  “Are you suggesting rather than tying you up, I should do a puzzle with you?” he teased, hopping up to grab a blanket and place his scarf and coat nearby so they could dry.

  “Or I can write that bad romance book.”

  “Or you can write a really good one. I’ll volunteer for market research.”

  “Are you flirting with me, Erik Matheson?”

  He grinned and crickets started hopping around her belly. Dang, but his smile could seduce a vestal virgin. He looked awfully yummy wrapped in a worn army blanket, hair ruffled from his trek through the woods wearing the scarf. Normally Erik was a buttoned-up sort of guy, which she totally dug. Nothing like a hard jaw, no-nonsense demeanor and a clean-cut style, but seeing him a bit smudged around the edges was a different turn-on.

  How would he be in bed?

  Commanding? Or content to let her take the lead?

  She could probably find out.

  “Of course not,” he said, sobering a little. “You’re like my sister.”

  He said it as though he was reminding himself, which lessened the dart of hurt. He was right. They had been like brother and sister. Still, they hadn’t seen each other in years. Emma was a whole different person from the girl she’d been when she hung around the Matheson house, scarfing down ice cream and watching ʼN Sync videos. She’d graduated with a BA from the University of Colorado, completed her MA in comparative literature and was presently enrolled in a doctoral program. Not to mention she’d lost her braces, flat chest and virginity along the way. She most definitely was not his sister.

  “If that’s the case, you’re a shitty brother. I haven’t seen you in...seven years?” she said, jerking her head toward the blankets piled on the table. “Hand me a blanket?”

  He tossed it to her and she tucked it around herself, sighing at the warmth. “How about some wine? Think we can find a corkscrew around here?”

  “You have wine?” Erik shifted his gaze over to her.

  “My dad’s Christmas gift, but it must be sacrificed. And I pulled out the cookies and handmade chocolate, too. We may not have much to eat, but what we do have is the good stuff. Give me a few more moments of warm up and I’ll wipe off a plate from the cupboard and make us dinner.” She chuckled at the thought.

  “Nah, I’m thawed out enough to do the dirty deed,” he said, struggling from the depth of the chair. Emma snuggled into the dusty tweed warmth, trying not to think about spiders and other creepy crawlies that might have done the same over the years. She heard drawers slamming and Erik shout “bingo,” then she heard the clink of glass and the pop of the cork.

  “Let it breathe,” she said.

  “You’re much bossier than I remember. Is that what they taught you in college, Miss Fancy Pants?” Erik asked, his voice light. Similar to how he’d talked to her when she was sixteen. “Hope you don’t mind drinking out of water glasses.”

  “Of course not. Do you need help?” she asked.

  “Nope,” he said, sliding by her, holding two tall glasses with sunflowers etched on the side. He handed her both glasses then turned and grabbed the cleaned plate he’d loaded with the chocolates and cookies. “Bon appétit.”

  “It’s a travesty to drink this pinot noir in such ugly glasses,” she said as she held up the offensive glasses to the firelight. The vintage was brilliant ruby in the glow. It smelled as advertised, with notes of cherry, anise and sandalwood.

  “What do you mean? My maw maw has these glasses,” Erik said, settling into his chair, tugging the blanket around his knees. He balanced the plate of cookies in his lap.

  That made Emma laugh.

  “You’re so different now,” he said. The teasing in his eyes had disappeared and he stared at her thoughtfully.

  “How so?”

  “I don’t know. It’s like you’re Emma, but you’re not. Just different.”

  “Did you expect me to stay the same? I was a teenager. You should know that when you feed and water them, they grow up to become adults,” she joked, swiping a chocolate off the plate and biting into it. “Mmm, these are so good.”

  She felt him watching her and something zipped in the air. Like the crackling of static electricity. Or the prickling of hair at the nape of her neck. She chewed the decadent candy she’d bought at Belvedere’s when she’d gone shopping in Denver.

  Turning, she caught him watching her, hunger present in his eyes. He blinked, cleared his throat and said, “I’m going to grab one of those jigsaw puzzles.”

  * * *

  ERIK WAS IN TROUBLE. Not because he was stranded in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with no electricity and no way to communicate with the outside world. No. The danger wore diamond earrings and fuzzy wool socks. And she smelled like exotic perfume and had hair soft as spun silk. Not that he even knew what spun silk was. But it was probably soft since everyone compared soft stuff to it. Everything about her was womanly. She had curves that begged to be traced, plump flesh ready to yield to the hardness of a man.

  Yeah, little Emma Rose was big-time trouble.

  “You really want to do a puzzle?” she asked, her tongue darting out to take care of the small chocolate fleck in the corner of her luscious lips.

  No, I really want to do you.

  But he couldn’t actually say that to her.

  “Uh, sure. We can drag the table in front of the fire. It would be easier to set the glasses and cookies on the table, too.”

  Emma made a face. “Okay, if you really want to.” She struggled from the grasp of the scratchy blanket and padded in her socked feet to the small bathroom. A few minutes later she emerged with a water-stained box.

  Erik jumped up and set about hauling the kitchen table as close to the fire as was safe. Then he moved the wingback chairs, already warm from their bodies, over to the table. He’d found a couple of candles on the back of a shelf in the kitchen, which he set on the table and lit.

  The overall effect was very cozy.

  Maybe too cozy for two single warm-blooded people drinking wine by candlelight.

  “This was the best puzzle in the bunch.” She held up the box showing a large whale breaching an Alaskan bay. Or somewhere cold. As if they needed something else to remind them of being cold and wet. Why couldn’t the former owners of the cabin have bought a tropical-landscape puzzle?

  “That’ll work,” he said, settling in the chair, pouring another slug of wine. Normally he went for beer, but he couldn’t deny how warm the wine made him. “Let’s try to create the border first.”

  Emma started flipping puzzle pieces. “I wonder if Alexis got my message. I started to text my parents, but they’d have been too worried. They would have canceled the dinner. Ugh, it was so stupid to forget to charge my phone.”

  “You were out of your element,” he said, finding two pieces that fit and tapping them down.

  “I’ve been out of my element for a while now. Ever since I finished my master’s, I’ve lived with my parents. It was easy. I taught high school, worked on my thesis and my mom cooked every night. It’s not like I’m spoiled, but this past month of moving and starting a new job has been difficult. But I know I’m settling in to where I’m supposed to be.”

  “In academia?”

  She nodded. “Hey, I’ve always been a nerd.”

  “Nothing nerdy about you, Emma. You’re a beautiful, accomplished woman. I know your folks are proud.”

  Emma glanced up at him. “You’re
being awfully kind to the girl who broke your Stratocaster.”

  Laughing, Erik passed her a few pieces that looked as if they would fit the border she worked on. “I forgot about that. You should have stuck to air guitar.”

  “You were always nice to me.”

  He wanted to be nice to her now. Really nice. The fire cast a glow onto her golden hair, and her cheeks were flushed from the wine and heat. She’d abandoned her wool coat and the long sweater she wore molded to her high breasts. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Some of my other friends’ brothers were so nasty to their sisters. You and Alexis always had such a good relationship.”

  He shrugged. “My parents gave us no leeway for anything else.”

  For a few minutes they fell silent, sipping wine and squinting at the somewhat warped puzzle pieces. Every so often she shifted a certain way and he got a whiff of her perfume. Something about her sexy subtleness revved his blood.

  He’d been single for half a year. His last girlfriend had been unwilling to move past anything casual. Not that Erik was jonesing to move toward the altar. He’d just wanted something more than casual sex and halfhearted dating.

  “Are you seeing someone?” he asked.

  Emma jerked her head up at his question. “As in dating?”

  “Just wondering if you had someone significant.”

  She shook her head and something inside him did a tap dance. “I haven’t had time to meet anyone since I moved to Greeley. I had been seeing a guy in Colorado Springs, but it wasn’t serious. We agreed to end it when I made the move north.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why?”

  “Just wondering. Casual conversation. Uh, so what are your plans for Christmas?”

  “I was planning on staying with my parents until after Christmas then heading back to Greeley. I’m staying in a friend’s duplex but need to find another place. He’s in Italy and will return in the spring.”