by R. Holmes
“Jesus, Fre-ya.” Riley says my name in two drawn out syllables, waving her hand in front of my face. “Zone out queen, what’s your deal?”
West is with her, hands in his pockets. They must not be pretending to hate each other today. He’s standing awfully close to her for someone who’s just her friend. My gaze bounces between them.
“I’m fine. Sorry.” I tuck a lock of hair. God, was I really just standing around fantasizing about fucking Finn while his friends stared at me? Where anyone in the square could’ve seen whatever thirsty expression was on my face? Yikes, girl. “I was, uh, keeping my head in the game, you know?”
Riley snorts. “Sure.”
“Was that Finn talking to you before we walked over?” West has a knowing smirk. “Getting to know your competition real well, I bet.”
Ah, shit. He’s got me there. They’ve already caught us passionately kissing against the wall of the bar. Finn and I can’t hide what’s between us from his oldest friends. Maybe it’s obvious to anyone looking at us when we’re together. Twitter already ships us thanks to the competition.
Riley smacks the back of her hand against his chest. “Don’t be a dick, Wes.”
“It was,” I confirm. “We’ve gotten…pretty close through the competition and running into each other so often. It’s good to be friendly with your neighbor.”
“Friendly,” Riley repeats in a sassy tone. She laughs. “Yup. Sounds about right.”
Riley and West exchange a pleased look full of silent communication that comes from years of knowing someone. It’s nice to watch, even if West seems like he doesn’t see how Riley looks at him whenever his eyes are elsewhere.
My phone goes off in my pocket and I take it out. Once I see the alert notification on my screen, I release an excited squeak.
“What’s that about?” West asks.
Bouncing on my feet, I flash my phone at him and Riley. “My luck is shining today. A new cabin listing is available! I’ve struck out since I moved here, but this one is mine! I can feel it in my bones.”
West’s head jolts with an amused snort. “You’re easily excited, huh?”
“You should’ve seen when she spotted an elk for the first time,” Riley teases. “Or the time—”
“You promised!” I hold a finger up, cutting her off.
I know she was about to tell the ski lift story again. I’ll never live that moment down. Part of me is fighting back a smile anyway, even though I’m still embarrassed by it. Riley and I have grown close enough for her to rib me like we’re family. I’ve never had that before.
My friends in California were always superficial. Riley is my first true best friend.
She holds up her hands. “I did. A deal is a deal.” The corner of her mouth tugs up. “Doesn’t mean I can’t get you drunk and have you spill the whole story yourself.”
“We should all hit Moose’s tonight,” West suggests. “Because this I’ve gotta hear.”
“I can’t tonight. I want to see if I can go look at this place, and Finn said he’s doing stuff around the inn for Gramps.”
West and Riley both lift their brows. It occurs to me after the words have left my mouth that I spoke for him, as if we’re a couple. My cheeks tingle with warmth. It’s not an idea I’d be opposed to. Quite the opposite.
“Soon, then,” West says. “No backing out, you hear? If you’re planning on staying in Hollyridge, we need to hang out more.”
A laugh bubbles out of me as I dial the realtor, pressing the phone to my ear. I wave to them both as I back toward my car. “Soon sounds good. See you later!”
The call connects and my excitement rises as I hurry across the parking lot to get to my car, ready to go look at the cabin right now if I can. Everything finally feels like it’s clicking into place after all my hard work.
“Come on, stupid thing,” I mutter, distracted by splitting my attention between squinting through the heavy snowfall and trying to get my phone’s GPS app to work. “This is ridiculous.”
Once again I wish the cabin was ready for me to tour it yesterday after the Jingle Wars challenge, instead of today when the biggest storm of the season hit out of nowhere.
The realtor I spoke with to set up my viewing appointment of the cabin already called to tell me she can’t stay in the storm, but that she left me the key under an antique milk jug on the porch. I’m supposed to check out the cabin on my own, then meet her at the coffee shop in the town square tomorrow to return the key. People here are so trusting. That would never fly in California. What if I was a crazy squatter?
But the chances of me making it to the cabin are dwindling as I fight with the wheel of my Mercedes against fishtailing in the snow. I am so not used to driving in winter weather yet. Despite experiencing several snow storms since moving to Hollyridge, this one is bad. Even Riley warned me to be careful before I left the Alpine to drive out here on the outskirts of the more populated residential areas toward the center of town. Those get regular plowing, but out here it seems they’re waiting for the storm to finish before the roads are properly cleared.
The few glimpses I’ve caught of this part of Hollyridge are beautiful, the mountaintops huge and breathtaking beyond the rustic cabins and houses dotting the road I’m driving on.
Crawling along is probably more accurate.
“Just gotta get there,” I coach myself, trying to remain positive.
What I don’t understand is how the GPS is failing so hard. I plugged in the address the realtor told me—one for a neighboring house, because my latest unicorn cabin doesn’t have a clear address.
The car fishtails again and I tense up, trying to get it under control, but it makes it worse and the car fights me.
“No!”
My heart pounds. The weird sensation of the Mercedes sliding without traction makes my heart clench in fear and the sound of snow crunching beneath the tires has me jumping. I try a little gas, hoping the jolt will get me away from the slippery patch of road, but it makes the spinning worse and with another turbulent wiggle the car finally comes to a stop with an ominous jerk. My knuckles are white on the wheel.
“Well, shit.”
Praying I’m doing the right thing, I try the gas pedal again. The tires spin, but I go nowhere.
It’s stuck in the snow.
“Okay.” I rub my temple. “Don’t panic. No reason to freak out. What was it Finn said about keeping rock salt and extra mats handy for situations like this?”
Trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling with a surge of anxiety, I think about when we helped Uncle Lyle and Jared get their tractor off the snowy embankment by putting the coarse salt down for traction.
The only problem is, I don’t have any rock salt in my car. I blow out a breath, deflating my puffed cheeks. It’s cool. I can totally handle this. The car has mats, doesn’t it? Twisting over the center console to check the back, I nod.
Snow falls fast in thick clumps. It already partially covers my windshield, and I’ve only been stuck for a couple of minutes. I stall going out into the elements for a few more minutes, taking the time to gather the car mats. Since I thought it would be a quick viewing, I opted for leggings and my replacement pair of UGGs along with my pink faux fur coat instead of the wool coat. I wasn’t planning on hiking through a snowstorm, dressed for fashionable comfort in an Instagram-worthy hashtag outfit of the day.
“Not worth the ‘gram now,” I mumble as I open the car door. A blustery wind and icy wet snowflakes assault me immediately. “Gah! Cold, cold.”
My boots slip in the deep snow along the side of the road on my way to the front of the car. The wheel has jumped the build up from the last plow and is wedged in the dense snow.
“Crap.”
I do my best to put the mats in front of the wheels, but I end up tripping and falling on my ass. My fingers are red when I push up, checking out the imprint of my butt. At this rate, I’ll be a popsicle by the time I make it out of this situation.
Cli
mbing back into the car, I try to drive up on the mats I laid down. The car doesn’t move. With a heavy sigh, I get back out to try again. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I have to keep trying.
Despite the determination not to give up, I’m no closer to getting my car free after another slew of problem solving attempts to dig my wheels free.
With spotty cell service and no other way to call for help, I wave my arms frantically at the first vehicle coming down the road. As the truck gets closer in the near-blinding snowfall, my shoulders sag in relief. It’s Finn.
He cracks the window and squints at me through the snow. “You seem to be in a predicament.”
“Please help.” I push my damp, half-frozen hair from my face and fight off a shiver. My boots are all soaked—another pair ruined by the Montana snow. “It’s stuck and I can’t get it out.”
Pulling the truck off the road, he comes to my rescue with his magic jug of rock salt. He assesses how the wheels are stuck and brushes snow from the mats I tried to use.
“You did good remembering this.”
His praise feels good, creating a pleasant warmth in my chest. “When I tried, the wheels wouldn’t catch on them.”
“Sometimes it goes like that.”
I step out of the way while he works. Thick snowflakes stick to my lashes and I’m freezing. The seat of my thin leggings are causing me to shiver after the fall in the snow.
Finn gets in my car to try moving it, but the tires only spin in place, kicking up more snow.
After two more attempts, he has to change tactics, going back to his truck for his own mats. My teeth chatter and I shuffle from foot to foot trying to keep my blood pumping. The wind stings my cheeks.
Finn steps back from my car with a huff, casting a glance at the dreary darkening sky. “It’s good and stuck. We should get out of this snow.”
In the last few minutes of our attempts, the storm has picked up even more, the snow falling harder than it already was. At this rate it seems likely to bury my car within an hour.
“Okay.” I go to head for his truck, eager to get the heat blasting, but he catches my elbow. “What? Aren’t you going to give me a ride back?”
“The roads are getting worse,” he explains. “They said it’s bad on the radio while I was driving. Storms like this, it’s better to hunker somewhere and wait until it blows over. It’s too dangerous to take the mountain roads, snow tires or not.”
“The cabin isn’t far. I was supposed to arrive any minute before my car spun out.” I point further down the road and pull up the listing on my phone to show him. “The realtor left me the key to get in.”
Finn nods. “I know it, that’s just up the road a bit. We’ll go there, then. Hopefully it’s stocked with firewood at least, so we can get warm and dry.”
I grimace at the icy dampness seeping into my bones through my wet boots and socks as we trudge through the snow to reach the truck. He ducks in and hands me a Mayberry Inn hoodie from the back seat that was next to two bags of groceries.
“Come on.” He sighs when he sees the state of my shoes. “Those again, huh? You don’t learn. When we get there, you’ll need to get out of all these wet clothes.”
“Is that your way of saying you want me naked? Romantic,” I tease, taking his hand to help me into the cab. Once I’m in, I peel off my faux fur coat and tug on the hoodie. It’s huge on me, giving me sweater paws.
Finn shakes his head with a wry grin. “Wouldn’t complain.”
The heat in the car is a blessing after twenty minutes in the worst snow storm I’ve ever experienced. I’m eager to get in the cabin. The movies I love make the snow look peaceful and romantic, but this storm is gross to be out in.
Within minutes, we pull up to the most beautiful cabin I’ve ever seen. It steals my breath for a second and I lean forward to take it in. The cabin sits up on a small hill and has a wraparound porch like Mayberry Inn’s. Twin antique milk jugs sit on either side of the robin’s egg blue door with a fresh holly wreath greeting us.
“It’s so pretty,” I murmur.
Totally the hashtag cabin goals home I’ve been hoping for.
Finn shoots me an affectionate sidelong glance, lingering on the hoodie I’m borrowing. “You can admire it from the inside, where it’s warmer.” He cuts the ignition and steps out. “There’s firewood. You get the door unlocked and I’ll gather wood to get a fire started.”
While he heads for the wood shed around the side of the house, I pause long enough to snap a few photos with my phone. I frown at the lack of a cell signal. The mountains must mess with it.
Stepping onto the porch, I tap my boots against the step to get the clumped snow off. The key is right where the realtor said, under the left milk jug. Now I’m glad she was so trusting. Once I open the door, my eyes go wide.
The house is amazing, fully furnished and staged for showings to help potential buyers picture this place as their dream home. A stacked stone fireplace with a stained wood mantel creates the centerpiece of the living room to my right, and to the left the kitchen is cozy with a breakfast nook looking out to the mountain view behind the cabin. I imagine sitting on the bench seat with a silky smooth faux fur blanket and coffee, watching elk graze on the grass.
Finn comes in behind me, heading right for the fireplace with an armful of logs. I’m momentarily distracted by watching him work, a base part of me enjoying his competent skill. “Nice that it’s furnished.”
“I’ll see what else it has for supplies.”
“Take your shoes and socks off before you explore. Pants, too. Anything that’s damp so you don’t catch a cold. Leave them over here so they dry faster.”
I bite my lip as a wave of hot and cold tingles travel over my body. When he gets all gruff and bossy like that it does things to me.
After toeing off my second ruined pair of UGGs, stripping off the socks, and peeling off my leggings, I walk into the kitchen. The light switch works when I flick it on and start opening cabinets.
“We have power at least,” I call, poking around. “Not much else. Just some Vienna sausages. I guess those were supposed to be a snack for an open house.” My nose wrinkles. “I have a bag of candy canes in my purse.”
I got them branded with the resort’s information to hand out.
Finn’s deep laughter sounds, making me smile. His laugh sounds nice in this place, a noise that fits in my maybe-home, like we could belong together. Returning to the living room, I lean against the back of the leather couch, appreciating the view. His coat is discarded and the thick sleeves of his sweater are pushed up while he coaxes the fire to life.
“I’ve got some groceries in the truck. We might have to get creative though. Didn’t really get much.” With the fire crackling, he gets up, ruffling his tousled hair. The damp ends curl from being in the snow. He braces an arm against the window frame, watching the storm. “It’s a pretty bad blizzard. We might be stuck here for a couple of days.”
“Should we try telling everyone where we are?” I join him at the window and play with the cuffs of the oversized hoodie. “Riley knows I was supposed to come out here. I don’t want her to worry about me.”
He shrugs. “If we can get service. Mine’s out.”
I sigh. “Mine too. I’ll keep checking.”
“I’m going to get the groceries from the truck. If you do get a hold of anyone, tell them to spread the word that we’re okay and we’re holed up until we can dig our way out.”
He steps out while I finish my exploration of the house. I like what I see of the cabin and if I can get my offer in before this one is stolen from beneath my nose, I’ll finally have somewhere to put real roots down in this town. A happy glow expands my chest. I’ll be able to call Hollyridge my home for real.
When I come back downstairs, I find Finn at the window again. He has stripped out of his under layers beneath the sweatshirt, leaving a flannel shirt draped over the couch. I go to his side, burrowing against him for warmth. His arm
slides around my waist.
“I’ve never seen it snow this much here. It’s already covering halfway up the fence posts! Are we really getting snowed in?”
“It’s coming down hard enough. The radio said it’ll be a record-breaker.” He draws me over to sit down closer to the fire, putting me in his lap. “Warm up.”
I lean into him and hum when his hands dip beneath the hem of the hoodie. “You gonna help?”
“I like you in my clothes.” His lips find my temple and he trails kisses down my neck to my shoulder. “Like you better out of them.”
“I’m on board with this plan. Is this what people do when they’re snowed in?”
Finn’s raspy laugh is pressed into my neck. “Mhm.”
“Well, I’m liking my first time getting snowed in, then. Good choice in a hunkering partner.”
More than that, he’s a good choice for a partner in anything. Someone I want to have the future I’ve glimpsed with.
“You like it because you don’t know how to light a fire.”
I can hear the grin in his voice.
“I do too.” I tilt my head to give him more room to kiss my neck, raking my teeth over my lip. His hands push below the hoodie, stroking my stomach. “With the help of a YouTube tutorial.”
Finn’s chest shakes with amusement. “Always so resourceful.”
He shifts and I feel his cock when he adjusts me in his lap. He grinds against me, rumbling against my skin.
The light in the kitchen goes out, leaving us in near-darkness from how dim it’s grown outside.
My lips part in surprise and I twist to meet his eyes in the orange glow of the firelight. “So much for having power. I guess we’ll have to snuggle for warmth.”
Finn’s arms wrap around me and he tugs my back against his chest. A hint of teeth scrape the shell of my ear, eliciting a groan from me. His voice is a deep, sensual rumble. “We’ll be doing plenty to stay warm.”
On a scale of one to ten, getting trapped in my dream cabin with Finn during a blizzard is an eleven.
