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One Night: A Christmas Romance (The Lakeland Boys Book 2)

Page 2

by G. L. Snodgrass


  Deep down, my soul responded with joy at the thought that Nick Parsons might think of me that way. Then, I thought of the long drive in front of us and quickly brought myself back to reality.

  Nick leaned forward and flicked the windshield wipers on. Big, fluffy snowflakes were beginning to fall. The size of marbles. Fluffy and wet. The kind perfect for snowmen and snowballs.

  My heart grew with pleasure.

  A white Christmas. I seriously love snow. Especially on Christmas. It hides the blemishes, and layers the world with a new blanket of pureness.

  Smiling to myself, I sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

  “Damn,” Nick cursed, as he began to pump the brakes.

  I didn’t even have time to cringe.

  In front of us, a red pick-up truck was fishtailing across the road like a long lost salmon looking for home.

  Black ice, I thought, as my pulse began to race. Could Nick avoid the truck? Would we get in a crash two hours from home on Christmas Eve?

  How was I going to explain that to my parents?

  Nick kept control and slowly brought the car to the side of the road. The truck wasn’t so lucky. As we watched, it slid across the road and nosed first into as deep ditch.

  The sound of metal ripping from metal made my back teeth shiver.

  I gulped, and was about to ask what we should do, when Nick turned to me and said, “Stay here.”

  Before I could tell him not to order me around, he reached back and grabbed his leather coat out of the back seat and was half-way across the road.

  No way was I staying there. Someone might be hurt.

  I got out, climbing into my coat as I did. The snow was still falling, the air had that cold bite that let you know it was the dead of winter and worse was to come.

  Nick slid down the side of the ditch and reached the driver’s side. Twisting back towards me, he yelled for me to call 911.

  My heart raced. Were they dead? Hurt?

  Taking my phone from my coat pocket, I made the call.

  It took me a moment to find a mile marker so I could tell the dispatcher where we were.

  She thanked me and said they’d have someone there in a few minutes.

  After I hung up, I slid down next to Nick. He reached out an arm and stopped me from falling on my butt.

  My breathing stopped, and my heart skipped into overdrive at the feel of his arm wrapped around my middle.

  Once I was steady on my feet, he let me go and focused on the situation at hand.

  I won’t say I was disappointed. But, I might have been.

  The driver was hurt. He’d hit his head on the steering wheel. A nasty gash was leaking blood down the side of his face.

  Steam hissed from the radiator, giving off that oily water smell that told you the engine was toast. The front quarter panel was scrunched up like an accordion and the wheel was tipped to the side. This truck wasn’t going anywhere by itself for a while.

  Nick strained to open the door.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, as he gently laid a hand on the man’s shoulder.

  My stomach was turning over as I tried to remember my Girl Scout first aid course.

  I needn’t have worried. Nick took care of everything.

  He reached over and turned the engine off and then stopped the man from leaving.

  “No, stay there until the ambulance guys can check you out,” he said, as his hand kept the driver in his seat.

  “Do you hurt anywhere else,” he asked, “besides your head?”

  The man’s eyes looked glassy and unfocused, as he shook his head. Then said, “Legs sore.”

  Nick nodded, then pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it against the cut in the man’s head. Once he’d stopped the bleeding, he shot me a look, nodding his head slightly, letting me know that he thought things would be fine.

  I swallowed hard and tried to not shiver in the cold afternoon air.

  “Who has a handkerchief?” I asked. As always, I forget what is important and focus on the unusual. Especially when I am stressed out to the max.

  Nick laughed, and his cheeks flushed a little.

  “For traffic accidents,” he said, as if I was an unusually inept idiot.

  I swallowed hard and ducked my head so that he wouldn’t see how embarrassed I was.

  “That,” he continued, “and I use it for wiping dust off the car,” he added with an embarrassed shake of his head.

  Of course, why hadn’t I thought of that? What else would he have a handkerchief for?

  Clamping my mouth shut before I said anything else dumb, I stepped back and gave him some room.

  Other people had stopped at the edge of the road. Concerned, worried looks on their faces. They yelled down asking if things were okay. If we needed any help. I felt good inside seeing that people responded positively. It was snowing, it was Christmas Eve, yet they stopped to help.

  Nick assured them things were fine and that the ambulance was on its way.

  It felt like three hours, but was probably closer to ten minutes, before we heard the sirens in the distance.

  When that cop looked down from the road edge, I felt my insides relax for the first time since I’d seen the truck slipping on the road.

  The EMTs slid down and relieved Nick.

  He stepped back and observed them for a moment, as if he wanted to make sure they knew what they were doing. I took his arm and pulled him away. They had it now. It wasn’t his responsibility any longer. He could relax.

  “Let’s give them some room,” I said.

  Nick nodded then helped me up the bank of the ditch. A warm feeling traveled from where he held my arm. I swallowed and tried to ignore it as I made the top.

  The cop took a quick statement then asked us to wait in the car in case he had any more questions.

  When we got into the car, Nick started it up and put the heater up to high so we could warm up.

  I wrapped my arms around my stomach and tried to stop shivering. I didn’t think it was just the cold. Maybe the shock was hitting me a little.

  Glancing over at Nick I noticed that he had that faraway look people get when they are deep in thought. My curiosity ate at me, so I asked, “What you thinking about?”

  He smiled weakly and shrugged his shoulders.

  “I was thinking how that could have been us. A few seconds later and I could have hit that ice. If I hadn’t seen that truck, I might not have slowed down.”

  I nodded, as I thought about the scrunched up pick-up.

  “Understandable,” I said. “I know you’ve put a lot into this car. It would be such a shame to see it ruined.”

  Nick grimaced and said, “I wasn’t thinking about the damn ... sorry, darn, car. I was thinking about if that was you sitting there bleeding. It could have been. A few seconds and our lives are different.”

  My first thought was that I was surprised that he had picked up on my aversion to cursing. I didn’t think I had even mentioned it. My second was to realize that he was worried about something happening to me.

  Okay, how cool was that? Nick Parsons knew who I was and worried about me. Like I said, pretty cool.

  I fought hard not to smile too big.

  We sat in the car for almost an hour, waiting for the tow truck to show up, and the cop to finish with things. The snow had stopped, thankfully. But, the skies looked like they wanted to start again at any moment.

  I kept flashing to my parents, and the fact that it was Christmas Eve. My brother and sister would be hopped up on Christmas adrenalin. Bouncing off of the walls with excitement and bugging my parents endlessly.

  The house would smell of pine from the tree. The decorations up since the day after Thanksgiving. Christmas carols would be on the stereo and mom would be cooking in the kitchen. Dad would be working in his study, going over his service for the night.

  My heart ached with the knowledge of what I was missing.

  Sighing, I laid my head back and tried to re
st. It was funny, I thought, I wasn’t nervous around Nick anymore. It was like we had shared something and broken through a barrier. The silence no longer felt prickly and awkward.

  Well, at least not the same level of nervousness.

  A tap on the window brought me back to reality.

  The Police Officer had a few more questions, then told us we could go on our way.

  “Where you guys headed?” he asked, as he wrote in his notebook.

  “Seattle,” Nick answered, as he reached for the ignition. “Everton, just this side of it.”

  The Policeman paused then shook his head.

  “Not tonight, you’re not,” he said. “The pass is closed. This storms already dumped six feet of snow, and they expect another six before morning. No one is getting over the pass tonight.”

  My heart fell into my shoes. No! This couldn’t be happening.

  Chapter Three

  My world was crashing. The pass was closed.

  “You better turn around and see if you can find a place in town,” the Policeman said, “I’d hurry, before they all fill up.”

  My stomach clenched up into a tight ball, as I tried to understand what was going on.

  Nick shook his head and started the car.

  “What?” I asked. “What are you going to do? I have to get home. It’s Christmas Eve.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and put the car in gear. “There’s not much we can do, Jenny.”

  “But... But there has to be something. Another way? Something.”

  Nick shook his head and made a three-point turn, driving back down the road that we had already covered.

  “I think there’s a motel just a little ways behind us,” he said.

  “A motel? I don’t have money for a motel.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll cover your room, and you can pay me back when we get home.”

  “But, it’s Christmas Eve, Tomorrow morning ...”

  My heart fell, as I realized all the things I would be missing. My father’s service tonight. The joy in my brother’s and sister’s face when we opened presents in the morning. The uncles and aunts, Mom’s cousin George, coming over for the Christmas meal.

  My heart broke, as I desperately searched for a solution. Anything that would get me home to spend Christmas with my family.

  If I didn’t think of a solution. I was going to have to contact my parents.

  Great!

  Nick pulled into a highway motel. One of those that tried desperately to stay semi-acceptable. The place looked like it had been built back in the seventies. The pool was empty, all the plastic furniture stacked in a corner.

  The green and white paint wasn’t flaking, but it wouldn’t be long.

  My heart refused to return to normal. I couldn’t stay here. I was supposed to be home for Christmas. It was one of those universal rules that my world revolved around.

  I was still trying to get my mind around things when Nick pulled the car to a stop in front of the office and hopped out.

  I sat there waiting, trying to figure out what I was going to tell my mom. I’d already determined that it would go better if I told her instead of my dad. I’d let her break the news to him.

  Nick stuck his head out the door and nodded for me to come inside.

  What? Did they need my identification? How much did a room go for? Did I have enough from my babysitting money to cover it when we got home?

  This and a dozen other questions tracked through my brain, as I stepped into the office.

  Nick held the door for me, then turned to the guy behind the counter.

  “You tell her,” he said to him. “She’ll never believe me.”

  The old guy behind the counter shrugged his shoulders. “One room. That’s all we got. And, if you don’t want it, there’ll be someone else within the next few minutes who will. The pass is closed.”

  My brow narrowed in confusion as I looked at Nick, trying to figure out what was going on.

  “We will have to double up,” he said with a silly grin.

  Spend the night in the same room as Nick Parsons! Are you kidding me? NO WAY. My insides turned all jumbly, as I thought of the mere idea.

  NO WAY.

  Nick looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.

  “It’s up to you. We could try somewhere else, but this guy says that they’ll all be booked up. Everyone on the road is scrambling for a place. You’d think it was Christmas Eve or something.”

  My life was officially at the bottom of a deep well. It couldn’t get any lower. Spend the night in the same room with Nick Parsons. My father would disown me. My friends would laugh their butts off and never let me hear the end of it.

  NO WAY.

  “Well?” the old man asked.

  At that moment, another car pulled in behind Nick’s Nova.

  My stomach fell, and my shoulders slumped in defeat as I said, “We’ll take it.”

  What choice did I have? My love of snow disappeared. It had quickly become my least favorite thing in the world.

  This was the moment when I realized what adulthood was all about. There wasn’t someone there to tell you the right thing to do. You had to decide for yourself.

  As I said, what choice did I have?

  Nick raised an eyebrow as if asking if I was sure.

  I bit my lip and nodded back.

  He shrugged his shoulder and paid the man. Filling out the paperwork and accepting the key.

  “It’s in the far corner,” the man said, already dismissing us, as if we weren’t important. The guy knew we weren’t married and he rented us a room. It didn’t seem right. But, then, I’m a preacher’s daughter. What do I know about motels?

  Nick held my passenger door open for me as I got in, then drove the car to the far corner and parked.

  I grabbed my violin case and followed him to the room. No way was I leaving that outside. My parents had cut too many corners for me to ever let anything happen to my violin.

  As I stepped into the room, one thing became my one and only focus. The bed. The only bed.

  It sat in the middle of the far wall. A paisley bedspread covering it. A small table and two chairs sat off to the side. A dresser with an old-fashioned tube type television on top was against the other wall.

  Everything else sort of disappeared. All I saw was that bed.

  Swallowing hard, I turned around and took in everything.

  I wondered if the decor had been changed since the place was built.

  No, this couldn’t be happening.

  Nick smiled, and shrugged his shoulders, then ducked back out to get his bag from the trunk of his car.

  That’s right, I reminded myself, he had been in Ellensburg for two days. Shacked up with some college coed and now here he was, shacked up with a preacher’s daughter.

  A drunken flock of butterflies launched themselves in my stomach.

  How had my life gotten this bad, this fast? How was I going to explain this to my parents? They would never believe me. I missed the bus. I took a ride from a strange boy, and I ended up in a seedy motel for the night. On Christmas Eve no less.

  No. I’d be grounded until my younger sister graduated from medical school. If they didn’t outright disown me.

  Nick looked at me, then looked around the room. His eyes lingered on the bed for a moment, and I swear he was fighting not to smile.

  Oh, how he must be loving this. For just a moment, I wondered if he’d arranged all of it. It had to be his fault. It couldn’t be just chance.

  But, No. I couldn’t lay it at his feet. Even the perfect Mr. Nick Parsons couldn’t control the weather. Couldn’t arrange some arbitrary pick-up to go off the road.

  That didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying the moment, though.

  I wanted to slap that silly smirk off his face, but I was afraid of getting too close to him. There was no idea what he might think.

  That bed. It was right there. In the middle of everything.

  How was
I going to talk to my parents with that bed sitting right there?

  Nick threw the dead bolt, then hung the chain lock on the hotel room’s door.

  My insides turned to stone. I was now officially locked in a room with the devastatingly handsome and eternally cool Nick Parsons.

  He glanced at me for a moment, his eyes looking into mine, as if he were looking into my soul. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and completely readable to this man.

  What now? I wondered, as my mind kicked into top gear and tried to figure out what to do.

  Nick didn’t seem to have any problem knowing what to do. He started pulling stuff out of his bag.

  “I’ve got to take a shower,” he said. “I’ve still got that guy's blood all over me.”

  That’s right Jenny, I thought. This wasn’t all about just me.

  The next thought wasn’t very good for my self-esteem, but I couldn’t keep it out of my mind.

  Nick had to share a room with me. The idea might very well be freaking him out. After all, he had to think of what people thought. The last thing he would want would be people thinking he was sleeping with Jenny Brewster.

  It’d ruin him.

  I nodded my head, indicating I understood about the shower. I had to nod, I was still unable to speak.

  He grabbed some clothes from his gym bag and headed for the bathroom.

  So typical. He goes away for three days and packs a gym bag.

  At least he’s got clothes, I thought, then my heart stopped.

  “What is it?” he asked, obviously having seen my stark white face.

  “I don’t have anything to wear,” I said looking down at my concert dress. “I can’t sleep in this. It will ruin it.”

  Nick smiled. I swear he was going to say something about me not needing to wear anything to bed if I didn’t want to. But, he thought wiser thoughts. No one ever said Nick was dumb.

  Instead, he reached into his bag and tossed me a gray hoody.

  “Here, wear this,” he said. “It’s big enough, it’ll fall halfway to your knees.”

  I grabbed the sweatshirt from midair and looked at him as if he was fully insane.

  “It’s clean, I promise,” he said as if that was the issue.

  I looked at the sweatshirt in my hand and understood that life could get worse. It could always get worse.

 

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