At least it had been for me.
Moving to head away and find Willa, my gaze caught something on the floor, something red.
I bent, picking up something I hadn’t seen in years. I didn’t eat candy much and this item was literally pure sugar.
I twirled what I knew to be a Pixy Stix in my fingers, curious to find such a thing right at my feet.
I looked up, at that guy who was the life of the party. Had it been his?
I didn’t dare ask, embarrass myself more.
Sighing, I stood up, deciding I’d toss it away at the first sign of trash. No way this was his. He was a grown man and what kind of grown men kept Pixy Stix on their person?
Maybe he has a sweet tooth?
Whatever the case, I wasn’t going to find out.
I stepped away. I was going to find Willa, then maybe convince her to rethink the whole vacation thing. Being away did no less to keep me out of my head.
So I might as well be at home.
I splashed water on my face, the droplets dripping to the sink. Grabbing a towel, I patted my face down, and then took a minute before going back—back to my friends, back to my… getaway.
The towel drying my face didn’t catch on the blond hairs of a beard and that tripped me up. I’d had one since college, at least a thin one, but on impulse I had shaved it off right before this trip, wanting a change. I figured why not, the impulsivity not much unlike this trip.
Tossing the towel on the sink, I left the bathroom, arriving in the sitting area of my suite in the next moment. A room full of dudes and a few girls filled my eyes as they lay displaced throughout the space filled with warm tones and leather couches. They were pretty much all passed out, some still with the remainder of whatever drink they’d been sipping in their hands, and this was only about half of the group, our group. The rest were down the hall at one of the other rooms I’d booked, it one of four. I usually took care of things like that if they were my idea, this trip my idea. I enjoyed Aspen, this place one of my favorite spots to vacation. My brother and I usually liked coming here. Yeah, it was one of our favorite spots.
Putting my hands together, I decided it was time to go to bed. I was all partied, all everything-out. We’d done a lot today. In fact, all weekend so far.
Crossing over bodies, I made the move to get to my room, flicking on the light. I had plans to jump right in, curl up in the wide circular bed underneath wooden rafters.
But it seemed like life had other plans.
Damn…
A set of creamy, white legs turned into two, then three when I lifted the covers and I sighed, drawing my hand down my face.
I really hated when these women fell asleep in my bed, taking an invite to my suite, as and open invitation to do whatever they wanted when they arrived. I recognized these women. I met them on the slopes today.
And they were completely naked in my bed, clearly expectant, expecting something.
Really not wanting to deal with all this, I dropped the sheet. I just wanted some sleep, some peace. This trip was supposed to get some heavy weights off my mind that I had let get out of control. Although I wanted some company, my friends along for the ride, I didn’t want this. I needed my friends beside me.
But I needed my space, too.
I didn’t think twice when I headed toward the closet, intending to grab my luggage. I’d find another alternative to this room and reunite with my friends in the morning. I hardly doubt they’d notice. They were all passed out anyway.
After stepping over another, my college roommate, Bo, I made my way to the closet, and then grabbed the handle of the black rollaway.
Only to find it light, empty.
A quick once-over of the room revealed why. Personal items like cologne and other things were arranged nicely on my armoire, a few pairs of my pants pressed and hanging in the closet.
I pushed my fingers through my hair. The resort staff must have unpacked me during my time on the slopes today. I guess I had paid for some extra services.
Grabbing what I could, I filled the bag and then grabbed the room’s phone off its docking station.
“Hello, Mr. Ricci. How can I be of service?”
The middle of the night and these folks were still cheery. I really did love this place. My twin brother and I used to come here all the time before he got married.
And had kids…
So much had changed in such a short time. My brother, Alexander, had a family now, one completely outside of me. He used to be so much like me—unattached and living life by the moment. But now, he was like a new man, a changed man. His wife, Johari, and daughter, Ruby, were two of those changes. Everything happened so quickly between him and his wife, and at first, I didn’t understand it. I didn’t get it, but over time, I supposed things fell into place. And his little girl, Ruby, was a true angel and actually managed to melt this cold heart of mine when it came to the prospect of having children. I truly got it now. I got my brother now and I loved that he was happy. I appreciated what he built for himself and his fearlessness when it came to taking what he wanted. He’d gotten sick not so long ago and once he recovered, he claimed the things he felt he deserved. He did deserve them. He deserved everything life could give him.
I leaned against the dresser, the evidence of what I’d built for myself passed out on the floor and naked by the threes in my bed.
I held the phone. “I was just wondering if I could get one of your cabins. The ones off-sight? I’d like a bigger space I guess.”
Truth was, I just wanted some space.
Any space.
After quickly confirming the cabin’s amenities, as well as grabbing a couple more things from my current dwelling, I was in a town car and driven off-sight, the tires rushing through slush and the elements flurrying in the night. The area the resort itself resided on was vast and actually stretched across many miles.
“Might want to get the fireplace going once you get in, sir,” my driver said, turning up the heat from the front seat. His eyes connected with mine through the rearview mirror. “You’ll have central heating, but definitely might need that fire. Looks like the weather might be temperamental tonight.”
The man wasn’t kidding. We’d only been traveling for a few miles and the wind cut across the windshield in icy sheets, a vast difference than the light snowfall we’d had when we left the lodge.
I nodded to him, deciding the idea of fire definitely wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Charging on, my driver managed only a few slight skids through the mess. The weather managed to pick up even more, but this man who escorted me was a tank, and soon enough, we arrived at a log cabin fashioned between several snow-covered trees.
I tipped my driver handsomely, then made my way toward seclusion, peace, as my snow boots crunched through crusts of untouched snow.
“Shit.”
That was actually my first word upon crossing the threshold of the cabin, the chill inside nearly worse than the ones on the slopes today when the sun was high.
Dropping my bag at the door, I immediately went for the cabin’s thermostat. I had to feel my way, the room pitch black.
A click in the room summoned the sounds of heat, the central heating revving up. I supposed with no one staying here to enjoy it they kept the heat just low enough not to freeze the pipes.
The smell of heat filled the room already thick of wood, and I clicked on the cabin’s light, finding it near the thermostat.
Illumination displayed a wide berth, and then I was hit with the smell of wood coming from the logs and wooden rafters that surrounded. Two floors, a carpeted walkway traveled down the stairs of the upper level to a living area, a couch and an easy chair covered in a knitted shrug. I sought out the fireplace and it was vast, constructed with various red brick and stone.
Rubbing my gloved-hands together, I was glad for the years my parents forced my brother and me to participate in the Boy Scouts. I actually made it all the way to star rank, Alex the overachiever and makin
g Eagle. Star rank got you the fire skills, though, and I planned to use them.
I channeled the skills of my childhood when I went to that fireplace and getting into it, actually laughed at the fun my brother and I did have back then. I missed him, in surprising ways like this, that of making fire. The thoughts of him, the truly happy ones, the innocent ones, always snuck up on me and I was never ready for them when they did.
I did still see Alex. Though, not as often as I would like. He was in the process of moving to California, his plans to work at one of our late father’s companies. I’d be staying back home, in Chicago practicing my work. Between what he was doing and my own life, we found connecting hard sometimes. Once upon a time, we used to be each other’s ride or die, complete misfits through and through.
Hell, you’re still that way. You are and he isn’t.
I think that’s why I got into a relationship, as quickly as I had after my brother got better and found the woman he’d ultimately married. My ex had been in Alex’s and my life since we were young, all of us of the same status with our wealthy parents, but it wasn’t until Alex got better I started to see Christine, then later even love her.
I wish I hadn’t.
So much drama came with that stupidity, that love. It made me stupid and even more naive.
Chills racked my body despite the fire, and I got up, remembering I noticed logs stacked in the front of the cabin. I took a few steps and then slammed my hand on the fireplace’s hearth when my brain confused the stable room for that of a merry-go-round.
I must have gotten up too fast, my head spinning. I put my hand on my head.
When’s the last time I ate?
The fact I didn’t remember let me know it had been too long. I remembered my last drink. I’d had plenty of booze tonight, but food? Maybe the slopes? I’d had an energy bar then, I recalled, generally not having much of an appetite since I’d gotten off the plane not so long ago.
Damn.
Making a mental note to call the lodge to deliver some reinforcements later, i.e. food, I ignored the sensation at the present, knowing I still had a little bit of time. I knew my body pretty well and wouldn’t be too worried about it right now. I knew when it was time to worry.
Chillingly so.
The door actually caught the wind upon opening and making my trip to the woodpile quickly became my priority. The cold hit me hard upon entry, striking into my bones, and as the fresh powder outside went up to my ankles now instead of the sole of my boots, I knew I was in for some hell tonight, as far as a storm.
Thank God I got here when I did.
Grateful, I went for that pile down the walk, but the sound of an engine failing caused me to turn my head before I’d even made it to the lumber.
I squinted between snowflakes, protecting my eyes from the wind and chunks of snow with my hand. A set of headlights painted the street ahead, off the path my driver traveled to deliver me to the cabin.
Taking a few steps, I thought the car might be his for a second, but the general structure and overall build of the vehicle varied from my driver’s town car.
An SUV materialized with every step and the sound of an engine picked up again. A hard rev hummed in the night, but died quickly without a turnover. Whoever was in there tried two more times, but once again without success.
They must be stuck.
My boots crunched into the street, using the SUV’s bright light, as a guide. I figured I’d offer my cabin’s phone to whomever. Cellphones didn’t work out here. I learned that quickly when I tried to send a few texts to my friends to let them know in our group text where I’d be tonight. After several failed attempts, I just went ahead and told my driver to pass the information on to the lodge. They’d notify them for me. They’d done less complex tasks.
I blew into my gloved-hands, my fingers numb. Someone inside the car had their head dipped, their mitten-covered hands attempting to start that engine again. I waved my arms, but they didn’t notice me when I made it to the driver’s side.
A flurry of brown curls exploded beneath a wool hat, a matching scarf covering the majority of the person’s face, and I knocked on the window, the other hand protecting my face from the storm, and the owner of the curls lifted their head.
Big, brown eyes expanded in width, the curly lashes and softened features of a woman presented before me. I assumed, as most of her scarf covered her face, but the pink hat and matching mittens seemed to be a given. Backing up, she hit her seat at the sight of another, her mittens to her chest, and I pulled my gloved-hands away from covering my face. I didn’t want to scare her.
“You stuck?” I asked, pushing my hands down my legs. I smiled. “I, uh, heard you over at my cabin. Sounds like your engine’s not starting.”
She could very well tell me to fuck off. I mean, I was a stranger. But my assumption of her first response couldn’t be more wrong. Her back lifted from the seat, and slowly, she tugged at her scarf.
White wool contrasted the soft brown tone of her skin. She was honeyed, golden with a button nose and slightly rounded cheeks kissed flush with color. She must be cold, out here by herself in the storm.
I’ve seen you.
And more than that. I had her, in my arms and warm against me. I’d kissed her, a moment of impulse. I never usually felt compelled to do such a thing. I didn’t ask for kisses. I took them, but this woman, she needed help and for some reason…
I had to.
Her voice got me out of the thought, the swirling recollection in my head, and heat touched my face, my eyes, my mouth, and everything. I had no idea when she opened her window, but now, she was talking to me, the heat from inside awash on my face.
“Do you have a refrigerator?” she shouted. She had to, the winds of the storm blowing so hard.
I blinked.
Did I hear her right?
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “What?”
Her mittens played with the door, patting until the window went down more.
She cupped her mouth. “Do. You. Have. A. Re. Fridg. Era. Tor?”
After she backed away, she pointed, directly behind herself to the back seat and I had a hard blink at what I saw.
There, in the back, were several grocery sacks, indeed the need for a refrigerator if they had in them what grocery sacks usually held.
I panned to her, my mouth agape.
But then a slow smile lifted my lips.
My expression widened. “I’m pretty sure I do.”
The guy came into the room, the one from the lodge, the one from… before. He had a phone in his hand, one of those portable ones that connected to landlines.
He palmed it, his big body sans parka. He’d taken it off when we got inside his cabin, a finely-woven sweater covering sizable arms.
“Good news is you’ll be getting out of here,” he said, placing the phone on the hearth. He leaned back against the big, construction of bricks. “Bad news is not for a while. Roadside assistance doesn’t want to take the risk coming out in the storm and I don’t blame them. It wouldn’t be worth coming all the way out here if they couldn’t get you back safely.”
I nodded, understanding his logic and of course, theirs, but the whole situation still sucked.
I just had to come out tonight, hadn’t I? The urge to create the recipe I worked on earlier this evening lingered in my head and I lost control of all logic, all sensible thoughts. I rented a car and went out into the storm and that was that. I was stuck. These drives to complete tasks when it came to my cooking always bombarded me that way. My impulses related to dish creating were like a prime directive in a science fiction movie. I had to cook, create.
And I loved it.
My blond savior put his hands together, laughing a second before looking up at me. A curling lock fell between his eyes.
“I feel silly, but I never caught your name before. At the lodge?” he said, a nervousness behind his smile. He pushed a hand behind his neck. “Crazy, right? An
d I never even gave you mine.”
I supposed he’d been too busy at the time—kissing me.
But you sure did kiss him back, didn’t you?
A reminder of that played in my face, my cheeks a sauna since I saw him and I’d been sitting in a chilling-down car at the time, my engine fried. So nervous, I didn’t even take my coat off, just my gloves and boots and that’s because I didn’t want to track anything inside his nice cabin, the place rich and humming with polished wood and a fine construction. Even his couch was boss, a plush suede, and I sat on it now, coat still on while I waited for him to come back into the room after his call.
A shift of his position captured my attention. He was no longer by the fireplace.
He was coming to me, his smell here before he even arrived. I remembered that heat, that smell of pine and male.
Well-worn jeans bent when he sat on the cabin’s coffee table in front of me, his hand going out to me.
“I’m Asa,” he said, my memory recalling. Someone called him that before. Someone called for him. This man was well-desired.
He smiled. “And apparently I get off on kissing people I’ve never met.”
Well, he had been good at it—great at it. And he didn’t do it just ‘cause. He’d done so to help me.
I slid my hand in his, shaking and trying not to shake. It wasn’t like I’d never seen a handsome guy before. It was just… considering all that had already happened between us…
My hand left his in a sweat.
“Noni,” I said, pushing a curl behind my ear. It was all I could do to keep from playing with my hands. I shrugged. “And apparently I get off attracting creeps.”
Blond eyebrows jumped toward the log roof and the reality of what I said fell over me like the harsh winds blowing outside.
My lips parted. “I didn’t mean you were a creep. I mean, you did kiss me, but you asked and I…”
I bit my lip, silently cursing myself and my way too running mouth. Happily, I hadn’t been received the way I should have.
A dimple pierced masculine features, making them even more becoming.
Chuckling, Asa put his hands together, leaning forward.
Baby It's Cold Out There: Aspen (Love in the City Book 2) Page 2
