The Scent of Christmas

by Leyla Hunt

  The Scent of Christmas

  A Holiday Romance

  Leyla Hunt

  The Scent of Christmas

  A Holiday Romance

  Vale Valley Season Four

  Book 8

  BY LEYLA HUNT

  Copyright © 2019 Leyla Hunt

  All rights reserved.

  Except for brief quotes for the purpose of inclusion in a book review, no part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. No part of this publication may be sold or hired without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Nico

  2. Will

  3. Nico

  4. Will

  5. Nico

  6. Will

  7. Nico

  8. Will

  9. Nico

  10. Will

  11. Nico

  12. Will

  13. Nico

  14. Will

  15. Nico

  Epilogue

  Also by Leyla Hunt

  About Leyla

  Contact

  Nico

  The first few lines of my favorite Christmas song played on the car radio and I smiled as I turned up the volume.

  “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” I sang along.

  It was a perfect day to grab some much-needed supplies for my budding perfumery. Christmas was coming up and I was expecting a high volume of orders.

  I glanced out over the landscape, blanketed with the fluffy white stuff. Thankfully, the driving wasn’t as bad as I’d feared. We’d just had a heavy snowfall, which meant fewer cars on the road, and my trusty winter tires got me through some perilous stretches, so overall the drive was relaxing.

  The only unfortunate aspect of the trip was having to leave the safety of Vale Valley in order to pick up the goodies. Being a crappy shifter wasn’t fun—whenever I was stressed or anxious, I had to fight a spontaneous shift. I wished I didn’t have to leave Vale Valley. It couldn’t be helped, though, because the town lacked what needed for perfume making, which meant I had to take the risk of an outsider discovering my shifter status. That would be a disaster of epic proportions.

  I was safe in Vale Valley, though, because its human population knew about shifters and accepted us as we were, without discriminating against or persecuting us. The town’s slogan was “If you need a home or love, Vale Valley will be there for you,” as I learned when I first moved to town. If all that wasn’t awesome enough, it was a magical town, visible only to those who needed a home or were looking for love. I’d been here for just a month, but there was nowhere else I’d rather live. If only my hometown back in France was like this.

  Snow started coming down again, so I shifted my attention to the road. There wasn’t a soul in sight. I was surrounded by snow-blanketed fields as far as the eye could see, with the occasional patch of trees.

  “Hey—what the—?” My gaze focused on a small, black moving figure on the side of the road up ahead. Was it an animal about to attempt a crossing? I pressed on my brake, but gently so I wouldn’t skid out. My inner Norwegian forest cat meowed with curiosity. What could it be?

  I squinted as I tried to focus on the figure, slowing down to almost a stop as I passed it. A chill froze my entire body as I realized it wasn’t an animal—it was a boy! My heart thumped and panic seized me. What was a little boy doing out here alone in the middle of nowhere, in the snow?

  I glanced in the rearview mirror and pulled over slowly with my hazard lights flashing. Putting on my winter hat, I clambered out of the car and rushed over to the kid.

  Oh, shit. Poor thing. He couldn’t have been older than six or seven years old. He lay on his side, one of his legs buried in the snow while he clutched the other one, obviously in pain. He moaned when he spotted me, and my heart almost broke. What was he doing out here? My questions would have to wait until later. I had to get him out of this cold and snow and get him to the safety and warmth of my car.

  “Are you okay? I’m going to help you up.” I grabbed him under his arms and attempted to lift him, but he let out a shrill cry and I knew instantly that he was in pain. I had to reassess.

  “Your leg hurts, sweetie?”

  He nodded, a tear trickling down one of his plump red cheeks.

  “All right, I’m going to get you into the car as carefully as I can, okay?” I opened the car door, then I put one arm behind his head and looped the other under his legs. “Ready? One, two, three…” I lifted him, keeping my arms as stiff as possible to minimize unnecessary motion, and placed him gently in the backseat.

  “Can you sit upright? I should put a seatbelt on you, just in case.”

  He dropped into the fetal position, still clutching his right leg. All right, so no seat belt. I remembered a blanket I kept in the trunk, retrieved it and draped it over him, and stuffed an old sweater under his head. At least I could keep him warm and comfortable.

  I ran back to the other side of the car and slid into the driver’s seat. My hands were freezing; I rubbed them together while considering my next move. Obviously, driving to the next town to get my supplies was out of the question now. The boy needed medical attention; he was in excruciating pain, and who knew how long he’d been out there in the snow.

  But where would I take him? I knew there was a hospital in the town where I’d been heading, but I hesitated taking him there. Firstly, what if he was from Vale Valley? I didn’t want outsiders sniffing around our secret town, looking for the boy’s parents. Second, there was the chance of an involuntary shift, and the last place I wanted that to happen was in front of judgmental humans. The only reason I’d left France and came to Vale Valley was so I could live in peace as a shifter. Besides, I was probably halfway between the two towns, so it’s not as if turning around would waste any time.

  I turned to the backseat to look at the poor boy. His cheeks had returned to a normal color, and he appeared comfortable and alert.

  “Mon p’tit loup,” I said, using a French term of endearment, “What’s your name?”

  He stared at me with his big blue eyes, which resembled the summer sky. I could detect an undercurrent of child-like hostility in them, but I brushed it off. Maybe he had reason not to trust strangers. I didn’t blame him.

  “All right. Well, if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But I’m going to take you to the hospital whether you like it or not, okay?”

  He broke eye contact, realizing he didn’t have a say in the matter. I checked my mirrors and made a U-turn, heading back to Vale Valley. Hopefully, he was from there and the sheriff’s office could locate his parents. It was a long shot, but I thought I’d get some info from him, in case they asked at the hospital.

  “How did you end up out here alone?” I asked.

  “Car,” came the assertive but child-like voice.

  “A car dropped you off?”

  “A car hit me when I was crossing the road.”

  I gasped. “A car—a car hit you?” I frowned, and angry tears threatened to overflow. I swallowed the lump in my throat—getting emotional in front of the boy probably wouldn’t help.

  He let out a sob. “It hurts so much.”

  Why does shit like this have to happen? Poor little boy. “The doctors will make it all better, I promise.” I hoped my promise wasn’t made in vain. I glanced in the rearview mirror but couldn’t see him because he was still lying down.

  His response consisted of a single moa
n.

  Thinking it better to let him rest, I stopped asking questions and we spent the rest of the drive in silence, other than the holiday music streaming from the radio. I kept the volume on low for the little guy, though.

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, I pulled into the ER’s parking area. I ran to the door and called for help and a stretcher. It was better if the professionals handled him from here on out—I didn’t want to risk making his injury worse.

  The ER was quiet and almost deserted, and we were called to the triage nurse right away. I explained I knew nothing about the boy, only that he’d said he’d been struck by a car. The policeman on duty was called over and I gave him a quick statement while the nurse took the boy’s vitals. He still wouldn’t give his name, and insisted he had no parents. He wouldn’t even share where he’d lived. The more I heard, the more depressing his story became.

  A little boy, with no parents, alone in the cold and snow, hit by a car...I felt a “whoosh” rush through my chest and recognized it as the beginning of a panic attack, which was often followed by an involuntary shift. Shit. This was an unbelievably inconvenient time to shift, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  My bones folded in on themselves, my skin tingled as fur sprouted out, and before I knew it, I was sitting on the hospital floor, staring up at the nurses and the little orphan boy.

  “Meow. Meow!”

  One of the nurses rolled her eyes, as if to say “why in the world would you shift now”, while the nurse next to her adopted a look of concern as she bent over and caressed my head. Damn, that feels good. I didn’t get a lot of human contact in my human form, but I could get some love as a cat. I purred and pushed my head into her hand.

  “Aw, kitty! Is everything okay?” she asked, her deep brown eyes sparkling.

  I stood up and tried to focus on shifting back, knowing full well I’d have to grab my clothes and find a private place to get dressed.

  After calming my heart rate with a few deep breaths, I managed to shift back to human and scampered off to the bathroom. I came back with a sheepish smile and a quick nod to the kind nurse.

  “Sorry about that. I sometimes lose control in stressful situations.”

  She smiled. “That’s all right. It used to happen to my dad all the time, and always at the wrong times, so I feel you.”

  When it came time to discuss financial matters, I made clear that I had no idea who the child’s guardians were, but if they had to bill someone, they could bill me. Of course, I could never afford his emergency medical treatment on my meager income, but I could make it work somehow. The little boy deserved the best care possible, no matter the cost, and I felt responsible for him now.

  The other nurse handed me a folder and directed her colleague to take us to the “green zone”, whatever that meant. I hoped it meant we’d be seeing a doctor soon. I kept my gaze on the little orphan boy as they wheeled him down the hall. I followed close behind, not letting him out of my sight.

  “We’re going to take him for some x-rays now. You can wait here, if you’d like, or if you plan to leave, we’ll update the police.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “There’s no way I’m leaving him here alone. I’ll stay.” I sat down and put my head in my hands. A while later, I went to the hospital café for a black coffee, but came right back. I paced up and down the imaging waiting room, thinking about the boy.

  Suddenly, I remembered the reason I’d been on that road in the first place—the supplier must have waited and waited, since we’d had an appointment. Shit. I pulled out my phone and called him so I could apologize. He was understanding and said I hadn’t inconvenienced them. Hopefully, he was telling the truth. I took my obligations very seriously and was loathe to stand people up, whether they were friends or business associates.

  Just as I finished my coffee, the door through which they’d taken him swung open and a doctor approached me with concern written all over his face.

  “Are you Mr. Couture? I’m sorry, but it appears we’re going to have to operate. He’s got a broken bone and some internal bleeding, and the sooner we operate, the better.”

  Warmth drained from my cheeks and my heart thumped.

  “I don’t suppose the police have located his guardians yet?” the doctor asked.

  “I haven’t heard anything. Is he going to be okay?” I felt more anxious by the minute.

  “He’ll be fine. Kids are so resilient. He doesn’t appear to have any head damage, which is very reassuring.”

  “I see. That’s great to hear.” I hated this part of hospital visits. I gulped. “I suppose I should talk to a financial officer now?”

  “Yes, that would be fine, though there’s no rush. Mr. Couture, we’re going to take him for surgery now. I’ll update you when possible.”

  “Thanks,” I said, watching him disappear through the swingy door.

  Eventually, I was going to have to figure out a way to pay for this. I found the financial office and sat down in the waiting room. After only three minutes, a stocky lady with curly red hair, big glasses, and a warm smile stepped into the room.

  “Come on in, dear, you’re next. Well. You’re the only one, it looks like.” She gestured around the empty room.

  The discussion wasn’t nearly as painful as I’d expected. It turned out that the hospital had special funds set aside just for emergency cases, so his treatment at the hospital would be covered. What a relief! I knew Vale Valley was a special place, but I had no idea just how much the community cared about each of its members. A warm and fuzzy sensation washed over me.

  “However,” she continued, “any ongoing rehabilitation he’ll need after discharge such as occupational or physiotherapy, are not covered. So, unless we find his guardians, those would have to be paid out of pocket.”

  My heart sank, but my spirit wasn’t crushed. I could probably afford his rehab, somehow. I thanked her for the information, and after filling out some forms, I went back to the green zone waiting area. Exhaustion nagged at me and eventually, I nodded off. I wasn’t sure how long I’d napped, but was woken by a handsome nurse, probably around my age. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. It had felt like an incredibly long day, and it was only one o’clock in the afternoon.

  “Mr. Couture, the little boy’s surgery went well, and he’s in recovery now.”

  I stood from my seat. “Great! Can I go and see him?”

  The nurse cocked his head to the side. “No, I’m afraid not. He’s quite out of it and will need rest today, and lots of it. How about tomorrow morning? He should be himself by then.”

  “So, this poor boy is going to be alone all day?” The thought of him having no one to visit him broke my heart.

  “No, not at all. We have specialized staff whose specialty is entertaining the children. He’s in great hands, don’t worry.”

  I nodded hesitantly and grabbed my coat. “Very well, then. I guess there’s no reason for me to stick around.”

  “That’s right,” said the nurse apologetically. “Hope the rest of your day is better.”

  The plan was to go home and get a good nap. I was emotionally spent and needed a couple of hours to reset my brain. And then, it was time for drinks. I didn’t have a partner in crime, but I’d be damned if I let that stop me.

  Will

  “How many bottles of this do we have?” I asked Edmond, the manager, holding up a bottle of tequila. We were preparing for another Friday night at my bar Incubus, and I hated running out of our favorite liquors and supplies. Customers would be pissed, and it would fuck up my whole weekend.

  “At least ten in the back, boss, and five here at the bar.”

  “All right, thanks. That should do.”

  I ran this place like a well-oiled machine. I’ve owned it for the last four years, and at thirty, I could finally say I’ve matured enough to take care of it. Ideally, I’d be turning a profit, but these days, that was easier said than done.

  “Let’s turn the Christ
mas lights on, guys. It’s the season, fuckers!” I called out as I went to the back to do some work in my office.

  Once there, I collapsed into my leather chair and turned on the laptop. Fuck. It was time to look over the previous month’s income and expenses. I hated this part of my job, but it was a necessary evil. Business hadn’t been going well lately, and each month, I hoped for things to turn around. No luck so far. If things didn’t start looking up—and soon—I’d have to sell this place within a few months, and that would break my fucking heart.

  The bar had been my father’s until his untimely death in a plane accident that had also killed my little brother, Jack, who’d been only six at the time. My mother, Margaret, had run the bar the best she could after my dad’s death until I turned twenty, at which point I took over. Business boomed for a few years, but the past year has been simply brutal, and at this point it would take a miracle to turn it around to profitability.

  I opened my desk drawer and pulled out an old photo of my family. I ran my thumb across my brother’s image. It was a picture of the four of us at the beach, all smiling, with the lake in the background. What I wouldn’t give to go back to those days. I’d been ten at the time and my brother just a few weeks shy of six. Three months later, they were gone, leaving me with a broken heart and shattered dreams. My father, my hero. My brother, my best friend. Both gone in an instant when the small plane my dad had been piloting spiraled out of control. They’d been killed on impact.

  Someone knocked on the office door. I wiped my eye and put the picture back in the drawer.