Winter Wanderlust: A Romantic Anthology

by Gina Drayer

  “Once hypothermia sets in and the shivering stops, you just feel like you want to go to sleep. Except you don’t wake up. Easy, sure . . . but I wouldn’t recommend it.” His last words came out as a near whisper when he looked into her anguished brown eyes.

  She turned away, staring back into the white void beyond the lake. Her teeth clattered loudly when she answered him. “I’m not s-suicidal, just m-mad as hell.” She rubbed her reddened nose with fingertip.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, sitting down beside her.

  “J-Justine.”

  “I’m Jake.”

  “Well, Jake, what would you recommend in lieu of freezing to death?”

  “I’ll tell you if you tell me why you’re angry enough to accidentally off yourself when you only just got here.”

  “H-how do you know I just got here?”

  “Abby—the desk clerk. She’s a friend.”

  “My husband . . . he’d have loved it here.”

  “So why isn’t he here?” he asked, thinking he recognized the same frustration he’d felt after the fight with his most recent ex-girlfriend.

  “He’s dead.”

  Without missing a beat, he said, “Well, I can see why you’re pissed then. The nerve of some people.”

  She turned and gawked at him, her breath puffing out in little steamy clouds. “I didn’t f-fucking invite you to join me. F-for your information he was killed a year ago. I’m m-mad at myself . . . f-for n-not b-being able to move on. And you can just fuck off.”

  “I have this weird . . . habit, I guess you could call it. Can’t stand seeing a woman in dire straits. And I know for a fact that there are more effective ways of leaving grief behind than wallowing in it like this.”

  “Do I look like I give a shit?”

  “Clearly you don’t, but I do. Which is why I’m going to sit here with you until we both turn into popsicles or until you agree to come inside and have dinner with me. And, if you’ll notice, only one of us is wearing armor.” He swept a gloved hand from her head to hip to highlight her lack of adequate insulation.

  She blinked up at him. “Are you...hitting on me? In the middle of a blizzard?”

  “Hah! That’ll be the day. You’re not crazy enough for me.”

  “You probably shouldn’t make that judgment until you get to know me better.”

  “Sounds like a challenge. So...We going inside or what?”

  She didn’t respond. They sat, silent aside from the staccato rhythm of her chattering teeth.

  “Fine, but you’re buying,” she said finally, standing up and stalking back toward the lodge without waiting.

  ***

  Justine hadn’t planned on talking to him once they went inside, but found herself relaxing and growing more curious by the moment about this strange, gallant man. Not crazy enough for him? She wondered what women he’d been consorting with if her ridiculous stunt made her too fucking sane.

  At his insistence, they ate at the end of the bar closest to the fireplace inside the lodge’s Great Room.

  “Better service at the bar, believe it or not,” Jake said. “Danny’s an old friend…” he nodded to the bartender.

  “Do you know everyone here?” she asked around a bite of one of the best-cooked steaks she’d ever tasted, which she’d ordered at Jake’s insistence. He’d ordered the same thing and was devouring it with almost as much enthusiasm.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much . . . uh, do you always eat like a rabid animal?”

  “I’m hungry. And you’re not exactly being delicate with your supper,” she said, taunting him.

  He grinned at her in response, popping another bite of pink meat between his lips and chewing slowly while holding her gaze. The intent look sent a rush of elation through her, a feeling she hadn’t felt since high school when her crush had brushed her hip with his fingertips in the lunch line one day.

  She studied him as they ate. His stature impressed her, and it made sense once he shared some sparse details of his career in the Navy. He had a nice face. Kind of pretty, really, if you got past the stubble and scars and his generally unkempt appearance. She wondered how many women had fallen under the spell of his sad blue eyes beneath that mop of dirty blond hair, about a month past needing a decent trim.

  Her mind wandered to what might lay beneath his flannel shirt and thermals. With the irresistible scruff covering his jaw, she imagined a luxurious crop of hair adorning his chest. She chewed slower, picturing running her fingers through it.

  He glanced at her and she looked away abruptly, her cheeks growing warm.

  “It’s good, isn’t it?”

  “The best I’ve ever had,” she said.

  “Buddy of mine’s the chef.”

  “Geeze, you do know everyone here.”

  Jake started to respond, but paused when a deep, amused laugh sounded from across the shiny oak bar.

  “Jake’s our golden boy.” The bartender smiled at them both. Danny, she reminded herself. “Our good luck charm,” Danny continued. “If he’s here nothing can go wrong.”

  “Danny’s full of shit, by the way,” Jake said, popping another bite of steak into his mouth and shooting Danny a warning look.

  “Well Danny doesn’t lie about his skill at least,” she said and raised her empty mug. “How ‘bout another of those perfect hot buttered rums?”

  “If you’ll excuse me for a second, I need to hit the head. I’ll be back in time for dessert.” Jake stood, gave her a charming wink, and headed in the direction of the restrooms.

  Danny returned, setting their drinks down. Before he cleared their empty plates he leaned closer. In a low tone he said, “Take it easy with him, alright? He’s dealt with a lot of shit. Had his heart broken a few too many times, too.”

  “We just met,” she said, perplexed at Danny’s intent concern.

  Danny just raised an eyebrow skeptically.

  “I know, but I see the way he looks at you. Most girls he dates drop him the second he shows his colors.”

  “Oh? What colors would those be?” she asked.

  “Ah, better let him explain it.” He glanced across the room before escaping to the other side of the bar.

  Jake appeared on the stool beside her. “What kinds of stories did Danny tell you about me?”

  “Just enough to make me curious.” She gave him a sidelong look and blew into her steaming mug. The small details Jake had already cagily shared during their meal set her mind churning.

  “My life’s not all that interesting,” he said with a note of caution.

  “We’re kindred spirits, I think.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I have good instincts about people. I can tell you lost someone, too.”

  “Not something I want to talk about.”

  “I get it,” she said, then paused considering. She was hesitant to breach that barrier of intimacy with a man who was barely more than a stranger, no matter how drawn to him she was beginning to feel, but she needed to reach out to him to repay his kindness to her, and to make up for her earlier uncharitable attitude.

  After a long silence, she said softly, “Zach died in my arms a year ago.” She squeezed her eyes shut and took a long swallow of her drink for courage.

  Jake’s warm hand gripped hers atop the bar and squeezed.

  “Justine, you don’t have to do this,” he said gruffly, his voice tense as though he was feeling precisely the things she felt.

  She shook her head. “You’re wrong, this is exactly what I need to do.” She took a deep breath and another drink to bolster her courage. “It was a drunk driver. Broadsided us. He . . . Zach . . . bled out before the EMTs could get there.”

  Her eyes pricked with tears and she struggled to hold the feelings at bay, but realized those feelings were somehow lighter now, like they’d been exposed to the elements and were slowly beginning to evaporate.

  “Hey, look at me,” Jake said, reaching out with his free hand and gently
nudging her chin. When she met his eyes she saw nothing but empathy and kindness in his deep blue eyes. Eyes she felt she could easily fall into and drown if she could just break free of her shackles of grief over Zach’s death.

  He started to say more, but a loud howling gust blew through the valley outside, drowning out his words. The sound was immediately followed by an earth-shaking crash somewhere just beyond the walls, making them both jump.

  Then the lights went out.

  She yelped and surged toward Jake. He caught her, his hands slipping around her waist and squeezing, clinging to her as hard as she clung to him.

  In the dim, flickering glow from the fireplace, all her other senses came alive. She heard the sounds of other patrons calling out in surprise. A curse sounded from the direction of the darkened bar. But all those sounds grew faint against the very steady, present sound of Jake’s breath against her ear and the feel of his warm, strong arms embracing her.

  She took a deep breath and the woody scent of him filled her nostrils, more intoxicating than the rum from her drink. His thick stubble brushed against her cheek roughly, leaving her skin tingling, the soft rasp loud in her ear. His hands slid up her back, pulling her in tighter. She sank into his warmth, soaking up the human contact as though she were starved for it.

  Warm lips brushed against the skin of her neck. She answered his silent statement by tilting her head so that her lips met his. The warmth of her drink still burned in her belly, but it was nothing compared to the electric fire that shot through her when Jake responded to her kiss with a low groan, tightening his arms around her and slipping his tongue deeper between her lips.

  When the lights came back on a moment later she stumbled backwards, blinking to regain her bearings.

  He gazed at her curiously, his fingertips rubbing lightly against his mouth. His hair was a haphazard mess that she vaguely remembered slipping her fingers through in that dark, secret moment.

  Without even realizing what she was doing, she turned and walked out. Her insides churned, the instinctual conflict overwhelming her. Some small part of her mind tried to tell her this was a good thing, but her memories of Zach rebelled. Thinking about being with someone new wasn’t the same as actually following through.

  She kept walking, ignoring the call of the clerk as she passed by the desk. Dim emergency lights illuminated the second floor hallway, but her key card miraculously still worked to open her door. She pulled up short at the near-pitch blackness that met her inside her room.

  “Miss Masters, you’ll need this,” a young, feminine voice said from behind her. She turned with a start and graciously accepted the glowing lantern held out to her.

  “Thank you,” Justine murmured.

  The young blond nodded, then politely closed the door behind her. Justine turned back around in the battery-powered lantern’s harsh glow.

  She set the lantern down on the dresser and skirted the big, luxurious, four-poster bed in the middle of her room like it was some foreign beast she was meant to subdue, and here she was without a sword.

  She stopped by the high picture window on the other side of the room. Staring out at the raging storm, she tried to picture Zach’s face in the swirling madness beyond the panes of glass, but for the first time it didn’t come to her. Instead all she could see was the handsome face of Jake. His blue eyes had seemed to see into her. The smell of him still lingered on her clothing even after sharing only the briefest embrace, one that left her craving human contact so badly it almost overpowered the fresh feeling of loss that twisted in her gut.

  She swiped a tear from her face. One kiss . . . she was falling apart after just one kiss from another man. And no, that roiling sensation in her belly wasn’t grief, it was guilt over the desire that had rushed through her the second Jake had wrapped his arms around her in the dark.

  “Get your shit together,” she muttered to her reflection, then glanced to the reflection of the bed behind her. Maybe a hot shower would help her pull herself together enough to tackle the bed.

  She spent an irritating moment waiting for the water rushing from the jacuzzi faucet to heat up before recalling Danny’s detail that the rooms would lack hot water if the power was out. Frustrated, she grabbed the lantern and her toiletry bag and left the room again.

  Standing beneath the hot water of the shower in the fitness center, all the feelings came tumbling forth again, inundating her with fresh conflict at the new and entirely unexpected need Jake’s touch had awakened. Unable to process it she broke down entirely. She collapsed to the floor and buried her face against her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

  ***

  “You want another?” Danny asked. Jake barely heard. His lips still tingled from Justine’s kiss, the sweet jasmine scent of her lingering behind.

  Danny poured another finger of whiskey in his glass anyway and Jake drank it.

  “She’s something else, isn’t she?” Danny said. “Got you all tied up in knots.”

  “She’s something, that’s for sure,” Jake replied.

  “How’s Renee?” Danny asked pointedly.

  “Kicked me out for good the other night.” He looked sidelong at Danny. “That’s why I’m here. Well, aside from being stuck.” Stuck with an overwhelming urge to find out more about Justine.

  “Ah, well…” Danny said. “Renee’s meant for bigger things I guess. The rest of us like solitude. And that girl…” Danny gestured toward the wide arch Justine had departed through. “She wants it, too. Solitude, I mean.”

  “You think so?” Jake asked staring out the way Justine had gone.

  “Jesus Christ. Will you just go after her?”

  Jake went, but he had no real idea where to start, not knowing which room was hers. He paused at the desk on the way to his room.

  “Abby, that woman… any chance I can convince you to tell me her room number?”

  Abby stood up, setting down the paperback she was reading. “No chance in hell. What’d you do to her? She looked upset when she ran by a minute ago.”

  “Nothing.” Seeing Abby’s eyebrow go up he said, “I promise. Shit. She spooked herself somehow after the lights went out. I just want to make sure she’s okay. She didn’t go back outside, did she?”

  Abby sighed. “No, she’s upstairs. She’ll probably be back down at some point. We’re on genny power so the hot water’s out in all the rooms. If she wants a shower she has to come down to the fitness center. That’s all I can give you. And good luck. I like her.”

  “Thanks, Abby,” he said and headed to his own room. Once there, he stood in the lantern-lit space for a moment. What lay in store for him on the other side of his subconscious made him second guess even trying to sleep. He contemplated heading back to the bar and closing it down with Danny and a bottle of good whiskey, but decided against that, too. More alcohol would just make him do something dumb, like try to hunt down a woman who clearly wanted to be left alone. A hot shower in the fitness center didn’t sound half bad, though, especially after having to hike two miles in a blizzard.

  Ten minutes later he stood beneath the steaming shower and stared at the hard tiles beneath his feet, playing that kiss over and over in his mind. He should probably steer clear. Justine didn’t need the heartache of being with a guy as damaged as he was, but something about her called to him. Maybe it was just that goddamn kiss. He hadn’t been kissed like that since . . . well, ever.

  He rinsed off and cut the stream of water. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he began to unpack his shaving kit when the soft sound of crying echoed through the fitness center. He paused to listen. The hitching cries led him to the doorway of the women’s showers. He hesitated just inside the entrance and peered around, seeing nothing but a closed shower stall and a pile of clothing on a bench nearby. He started to turn to leave the person in solitude when he recognized the bright pattern of the sweater Justine had been wearing lying in a crumpled pile among the other clothes.

  ***

  “Justine,
is that you?”

  The voice broke through Justine’s confusion. She sniffled and shook her head, disoriented at the tone of the deep voice that called through the steam. The outline of a tall, broad, towel-clad body moved closer. He stood barely visible through the frosted glass of her shower door.

  “Are you alright?” Jake asked. “I’m sorry I kissed you . . . I shouldn’t have . . . I should’ve thought.”

  His presence was the catalyst she needed. “He’s been gone a year. I hated him sometimes, but mostly I loved him. It still feels like he’s part of me. Jake . . . I . . . I’m confused.”

  Jake’s blurry figure stood still for a second and she wondered if he might be trying to find an excuse to leave. Finally he crouched and sat, leaning against the wall just outside the shower door.

  “They never really leave,” he said. “But you should let yourself move on.”

  “How did you do it?” she asked tentatively.

  She heard a rueful chuckle and saw his head turn, his strong profile visible through the door. “Honestly? It’s been five years and I’m still figuring that out.”

  “Who was it?” she asked. He stayed silent for so long she wasn’t sure he’d heard her. She was about to ask again when he began talking.

  “My squad leader in the service. I took a bullet for the fucker and he turns around and gets himself and our other partner blown up not even a week later.”

  “The nerve of some people,” she said.

  Jake let out a harsh laugh. “You got that right.”

  After another long silence she said, “You’re wrong, you know. I kissed you.”

  He cleared his throat. “I . . . ah . . . got the impression you might’ve regretted it. Figured it was only fair I take the blame. Heat of the moment, and all.”

  “That’s gallant of you, but I don’t regret it.” His head turned toward her door again and she watched his profile through the glass. His closeness and the intimacy of their exchange galvanized her into action. She stood and opened the door to her small sanctuary, letting the steam billow out and bracing herself against the onrush of cooler air.