CHAPTER 9
Abigail
To Abigail’s surprise, the manager handed the reins to Jasper.
“You’re going to drive?”
Jasper raised both eyebrows at her. “Don’t sound so shocked. I have done it before.” His eyebrows knitted together. “Seven… eight years ago?”
“Mountains haven’t changed since then,” the manager said cheerily, slapping Jasper on the shoulder. “Lake’s still in the same place. Caves not moved too much. Couple of trees have fallen down, but there’s always more growing up to take their place.”
Abigail looked from one man to the other. “Have you been here before?”
“I grew up around here.” He moved closer and Abigail breathed him in, sweet and spice over the sharp bite of ice and snow. His mouth quirked. “Maybe if I’d stayed longer, instead of flying off to see the world, this wouldn’t be only our third date.”
Something like fire gleamed in his eye. Abigail glanced over her shoulder. Surely they weren’t close enough to the window for the firelight to be reflecting in his eyes?
She turned back, and Jasper was holding out his hand to her, the other stretched out toward the sled. “My lady?”
Heat unspooled inside her as she took his hand, and he swept her into the sled’s cushioned seat. The night was cold, but her new clothes were warmer than any winter gear she’d ever worn. Or maybe it wasn’t the clothes. Maybe she was just so drunk with happiness that the cold didn’t stand a chance.
Jasper jumped in beside her. She shouldn’t have been able to feel the heat of his body through all the layers they were both wearing, but she thought she could. His knee pressed against hers and she laughed, pure joy bubbling out of her like champagne bubbles.
“It must be eleven by now, at least,” she said, hiccupping back giggles. “And you’re going to take me on a sleigh— sled ride, in the middle of the mountains, in the middle of the night? Should we file the missing person’s report now, to save time in the morning?”
“You wound me,” Jasper declared dryly. He let his head hang back with a sigh. “Very well. I admit it. We’re doing the children’s route— but not because my sixteen-year-old self’s incredible dogsledding skills might be in any way less than magnificent.” He pecked her on the nose. “Because it’s a half-hour loop, and I need to get you home before you turn into a pumpkin.” He flicked the reins. “Hup!”
The dogs stayed where they were.
Abigail bit the inside of her cheek. Jasper glanced sideways at her, his cheeks going pink. “Er… mush?”
A whistle cut through the air, and all the huskies’ ears pricked up. The manager was leaning back against the lodge wall, hands in his pockets. He grinned at Abigail and Jasper, whistled again, and the dogs leapt into action.
Jasper wound his arm around Abigail’s shoulders, groaning. “Do me a favor and pretend that didn’t happen,” he muttered.
“Forget this?” She spread her arms. “Never. I’m going to remember every moment of it.”
The night was dark. Snow-covered trees rising like shadowy giants either side of them, reaching for a star-filled sky. But they weren’t driving into darkness. A lantern at the front of the sled lit the track directly in front of them, and hundreds of lights dangled from the lower branches of the trees, lighting their way through the forest. More lights glowed through the pines, hinting at twists and turns ahead.
The dogs were taking the trail at a placid trot, as though they’d done it a thousand times— Which they probably have, Abigail thought. How long do huskies live? Could these dogs, or their parents, have pulled Jasper around when he came here as a child?
The thought made her feel strange. Like her insides were shivering, half warm, half frozen. The idea of Jasper growing up here, in a town obsessed with Christmas— it felt so right. She’d seen how his eyes shone when he looked at the stupid decorations in the shops, and her ridiculous work uniform, even when she’d been scowling at them. He’d paraded around in that awful sweater like it was the Emperor’s New Clothes.
And yet he’d gone such incredible lengths to keep their dates Christmas-free once he saw how much the holiday bothered her.
He was so full of warmth and kindness. A real, genuine good person.
Too good for you. Her stomach twisted.
Beside her, Jasper huffed. “I’d like to pretend that I’m steering, but… I think the dogs are on autopilot.” He sighed and dropped the reins in his lap. “Well. This is less impressive than I intended.”
“Is it like you remember?”
His eyes softened as he hugged her closer. “Better. And the less attention I have to keep on the track, the more attention I can give you…”
He tipped her head back and kissed her, and the cold shivery feeling in her stomach melted away.
The huskies knew the route like the back of their paws. Twenty minutes later, they pulled to the side of the track and came to a stop beside a frozen lake that looked like something…
Like something off of a Christmas card, Abigail thought, and a knot formed in her chest. She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back to relax herself. Her breath billowed out in front of her.
She would not ruin this. Not like last night, with the ice-skating carolers.
The air was crisp, without a trace of a breeze. The scene looked like someone had hit pause on the world: snow clung to black pine branches, ice stretched out over the lake. Abigail felt like she, Jasper and the dogs might be the only living things there; it was like they had stepped into another world, silent and serene and coldly beautiful.
The only movement was the heaving of the huskies’ sides as they sat down in the snow, their breath forming clouds of vapor over their heads… and Jasper and her. Her lips were still tingling from his kisses.
He slipped his hand into hers. “Come on,” he said. “I think our escort is suggesting we get out and stretch our legs.”
Icy snow crunched under her boots as she stepped off the sled. The smell of pine filled her nose and she closed her eyes, drinking the world in through her other senses. She could almost taste the cold, all snow and ice and sharp pine, and—
A spicy sweetness that made her legs go weak. She leaned backwards, knowing Jasper was right behind her. His arms snuck around her, his lips nuzzling past her hood to brush against her neck. God, she loved how he couldn’t keep his hands off her.
Maybe she’d been wrong, all these years, with her Christmas System. Falling into bed with someone was far more fun than working herself to exhaustion and hiding away…
No. Her stomach turned. Falling into bed with Jasper, that was one thing. But the thought of doing this with anyone else just felt wrong.
“What do you think?” Jasper murmured, nipping at her ear.
“What do I think?” She looked around. There was a small picnic area by the edge of the lake, a few low log seats around a blackened fire pit. Lights glittered on the trees like stars come down to rest. “I think it’s beautiful. And that you probably brought every girl in town here, back when you were a sixteen-year-old dogsledder extraordinaire.”
“Never!” Jasper spun her around. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever brought here,” he insisted, honesty radiating from his every pore.
Abigail stared hard at him. He stared back, all wounded innocence.
“Huh,” she said at last, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Would that be because this is the kids’ circuit, and usually it’s chock-a-block with adorable, screaming children?”
“Ah, you got me.” He groaned and leaned forward until his forehead tapped against hers. “Foiled again.”
Abigail giggled, and then breathed in deep, inhaling his enticing, spicy scent and trying not to think too hard about the idea of Jasper taking other women on dates like this. Everything they’d done was so new for her, so spontaneous and joyful. She knew it was stupid to feel jealous over the idea of anyone else having these experiences with Jasper… but she couldn’t help it. The only option was to ignore it.
“I wasn’t lying, though.” His fingers wounds around hers, and his breath whispered in her ear. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever taken out here, kids’ circuit or anywhere else. I wanted to do something special, just for you. Just for us.” He kissed her and then darted away, graceful as a cat. He called back over his shoulder: “And that includes dinner!”
Abigail stared after him, head spinning. He— something special? This is something special?
It had always been special for her, of course: an unexpected, wonderful spark of light in the middle of the most miserable time of the year. But Jasper was, well, Jasper. He was good-looking, a charmer, and— her hands clenched inside her new designer gloves— obviously wealthy. He could have any woman he wanted, surely.
But he’d gone for her. Something special, just for us.
She felt like she was standing on the edge of a precipice. A fun fling, that was one thing. But something special? That was dangerous. Could she risk letting herself fall?
Especially at this time of year?
Jasper was untying something from the back of the sled. Abigail watched him, waiting for— For what? For a host of angels to descend from the sky, slap you upside the head, and tell you what to do with your life?
You’ve never had a single relationship that you haven’t screwed up, one way or another. There’s no way this one is going to go any better. Maybe I should just… enjoy it while I can.
Jasper glanced up at her and she looked away quickly, her cheeks burning. If he knew she’d been ogling him—
Then what? What’s the worst that could happen? Not in a few days’ time, not weeks or months from now. What’s the worst that could happen, right now, from the hot guy who clearly likes you back knowing you enjoy looking at him?
Abigail took a deep breath and looked back at Jasper. His eyes were still on her, and when he met her gaze, fire seemed to kindle in their warm brown depths. His mouth opened slightly and the memory of his kisses was so strong Abigail could almost feel them on her lips. She lifted one gloved hand and touched her mouth, gently.
You’re worried about falling? It’s too late for that. You’ve already careened straight off that cliff.
Her gaze shifted sideways, past Jasper. She didn’t want him to see the trepidation in her eyes.
Something behind him caught her attention. A distraction. Thank God.
“What’s that?”
Jasper frowned slightly, and then followed her pointing finger to the small post-box nestled under a tree at the side of the track. The dogs had stopped the sled right beside it, and the only reason Abigail hadn’t seen it before was because she’d gotten out on the lake side, and been distracted by the view.
“There can’t seriously be postal service out— oh.” Abigail hit herself on the forehead as realization dawned. “I get it. Puppy Express. Like the Pony Express?” She walked over to the mailbox. There was a smaller wooden crate to one side, its waterproof lid weighted down with a large stone.
“Exactly right. But— and this is the most important part of the business model, I’m given to understand— literally ten thousand times cuter. I’m informed they measured that scientifically.” Jasper came up and put his arm around her waist. He nodded at the smaller crate. “Postcards come free with the ride, and the manager will have them sent anywhere in town within a few days. I think he makes his staff drop them off on the way to work in the mornings. Which is a bit trickier for the ones addressed to the North Pole.”
Abigail glanced sideways at Jasper. His eyes were lit up— the same way they did whenever he saw, talked about, or probably even thought about Christmas things. Hell, he probably had that hideous sweater with the dancing trees on under his gorgeous woolen jacket.
Abigail rocked back and forwards, her feet crunching in the snow. Then, before she could change her mind, she stepped forward and grabbed the rock off the crate, flipping back the lid. The box was piled high with stacks of postcards, carefully wrapped in waterproof plastic.
“Do you have a pen?” she asked Jasper, looking back at him over her shoulder. “And— what’s your address in Pine Valley?”
His eyebrows knitted together. “You want to— ? But they’re Christmas cards, I thought…”
“I want to write you one.” Abigail held her breath. You’re already falling. The landing is going to be hell. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the ride.
Jasper’s whole face lit up, and Abigail knew she’d made the right decision. “There should be pens in there,” he said. “Pass me one?”
Jasper took his postcard and pen and stood on the other side of the post box, using its sloped roof as a writing surface. Abigail stayed kneeling down by the postcard crate. She angled her body so that Jasper couldn’t see what she was writing.
But what was she going to write?
Now that she had the pen in her hand, all inspiration fled. She didn’t want to write some sappy, stereotypical message. Not the sort of thing you could find pre-printed in millions of cards around the world already. The look in Jasper’s eyes when she said she wanted to write him a Christmas card— that deserved something special.
She closed her eyes, remembering their ice-skating date the night before. Coasting across the ice with her eyes closed— it had felt like flying. Like she could spread her arms and soar out over the snowy mountains, and leave the Christmas-infested town behind.
Don’t mess this up, she told herself sternly, and began to draw.
She pushed the postcard through the slot face-down. Jasper pouted. “I don’t get to see it?”
“Not until it’s sent,” she said, prickling. “Otherwise what’s the point?” And besides, I don’t want to see your face when you see it. Just in case I’ve just done the stupidest thing ever.
“Well, in that case…” Jasper clamped his postcard between his gloved hands and fed it through the slot, hiding his message from Abigail’s view. “You’ll just have to wait, too.”
Abigail snorted. “I’m pretty sure that’s how mail generally works, yeah.”
Jasper turned to her. His eyes were brighter than she’d ever seen them. Almost— amber? But, no, amber wasn’t the right word for that strange combination of chocolate brown, gold and orange-red.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “I know you don’t like Christmassy things and— well, I guess you figured out I’m kind of crazy about it…”
“Hey,” she said, reaching out to cover his lips with her gloved fingers before the conversation could get any more awkward. “I’m not a total Grinch. I can allow myself one stupid Christmassy thing each year.”
“Just the one?” Jasper’s eyes sparkled as he nipped at her fingertips.
“Don’t push it!” Abigail relaxed as Jasper laughed. So she’d written him a Christmas card. So what? It was just a card. It didn’t mean anything. “Now, how about that dinner you promised me?”
Jasper leapt back to the sled and picked up the hamper he had been unpacking before she noticed the post box. As she watched, he hefted it in one arm and gestured with the other to the picnic site. “Shall we?”
Abigail rubbed her hands together and nodded. Her breath was forming such a thick fog in the crisp air, so she wasn’t sure if he saw. But there were so many emotions fighting inside her, she didn’t trust herself to speak.
Jasper grabbed a picnic blanket from the sled and arranged it on one of the log seats for her. While she sat down, he started unpacking the meal. The hamper steamed as he opened it, releasing mouth-watering smells.
“It’s nothing fancy, I’m afraid. Beef stew. Sourdough. The wine was mulled, so I hope this thermos has done its thing. Though, if it hasn’t, I guess cold mulled wine isn’t too different from sangria…”
Abigail took a deep breath. “It all looks amazing,” she said softly. Her voice didn’t tremble at all. Encouraged, she went on, “And it smells amazing. God, I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
He handed her a steaming thermos mug. “Then eat up.”
The mulled wine was sweet and spicy and, yes, still hot. Abigail licked her lips, savoring the flavor. She opened her eyes to see Jasper’s gaze locked on her mouth. His pupils were so huge they almost swallowed up the red-brown of his irises.
Abigail swallowed. Something special. Part of her was already clenched in fear, waiting for everything to go wrong. This was so clearly a bad idea. But part of her…
She licked her lips again, and a muscle in Jasper’s jaw twitched. Excitement shot through her like lightning. Part of her really, really wanted to see where this went, before everything inevitably fell to pieces.
“Hey,” she said, kicking him gently. “None of that. This is the kids’ circuit, remember. Behave.”
Jasper smiled wickedly. “It’s also close to midnight, and the sky is full of stars. And it’s very, very cold.” He shuffled closer to her on the log until they were pressed together, his arm around her shoulder, his hip nudging up against hers. Abigail let her head fall onto his shoulder. “That’s better.”
“Mmm.” Abigail closed her eyes. Jasper was reassuringly solid, warm and strong and… her heart trembled. Special. She knew she should explain to him why she had been acting like such an ass, but even the thought of it made her whole body suddenly heavy. Like she’d just run a marathon, not scribbled on a postcard.
The rich smell of casserole rose up around her and she opened them again to see a spoon hovering in front of her face. “Hey!”
Jasper tutted. “You’ve been on your feet all day. From what you said about your boss, I bet you haven’t had the chance to grab more than a few bites to eat since the start of your shift. I don’t want you collapsing on me.” He paused and Abigail got ready to groan, anticipating his next words. “…Not yet, anyway.”
Abigail groaned. “I have work at nine again tomorrow.”
“Then I intend to make the most of the time we have.” He waved the spoon enticingly. “And you’ll need your strength—”
Abigail rolled her eyes and grabbed the spoon. “You’re such a romantic.”
He snuck one hand up under her coat. “I try.”
The meal was delicious— but it wasn’t the hearty stew and bread that filled Abigail with a warm glow. It was long, slow looks Jasper sent her way, his eyes lingering on her lips. Every “accidental” brush of his hand against hers as they ate.
She could explain later. There wasn’t any rush. And right now, with Jasper warm at her side, and desire pooling hot inside her as they ate together… she didn’t want to ruin this.
Later, she promised herself.
* * *
Despite the food and Jasper’s tempting small caresses, Abigail was almost dozing by the time they finished the meal. She leaned heavily on him as they walked back up to the sled, and once they were there it was all she could do not to curl up on the seat and fall asleep.
“Abigail?”
“Hmm?” She rubbed her eyes and blinked hard. Jasper settled his arm over her shoulder. She thought he was moving a bit more slowly than earlier. Tentative.
Or maybe he’s just as full and sleepy as I am.
“What is it?” she asked, wriggling into his side. She loved the sound of his voice: so smooth and rich. Like chocolate. Warm, melting chocolate…
“I wanted to ask you about…” Jasper’s voice trailed off. His chest rose and fell. “Have you enjoyed tonight?”
“God, yes. It’s been… perfect.” Abigail snuggled closer into him. “I wish it didn’t have to end.”
“Do you think—” Jasper tapped his teeth together, breaking off again. He sighed. “I can’t believe you’ve been here all along. All those years, if I’d just come home, I could have found you here.”
“Falling off a roof,” Abigail murmured, and chuckled. Jasper nudged her.
“Well I didn’t know you made a habit of that. Who’s been catching you, previous years?”
This time, Abigail didn’t catch the yawn before it escaped. She fleetingly wondered whether to tell Jasper about the other pain-in-the-ass things Mr. Bell had made her do during the holiday season, but decided against it. No need to ruin the moment by being a killjoy.
“This is the first year we did the whole rooftop display thing,” she said instead. “I’ve only fallen off step-ladders before. I levelled up this year.”
“Lucky me.”
She giggled. “Lucky me, that you were there.” She yawned again. Eyes open, she told herself. Come on. Look around you. How can you miss all of this, just for a bit of sleep? A bit of… She shook her head. “Wait, what was it you wanted to ask me? Did I miss the question?”
Jasper’s warm chocolate tones washed over her. If she turned her head, she thought, maybe she could press her face up against his neck, and feel his voice reverberating against her skin…
The unmistakable tune of Jingle Bell Rock woke her up. For a moment, she had no idea where she was. Then she realized how warm her bum was.
“When did we get back in the car?” she mumbled sleepily. “And when— we’re back in town?” She blinked, peering out the windows. They were less than a block from her apartment. Her chest went tight. How could I fall asleep? God, he probably thinks I’m such a—
“Sorry about that.” Jasper’s hand reached into her field of vision and he turned off the radio. “Sleep well?”
“I—” Abigail stifled a yawn. “Did you carry me off of the sled?”
“I was sure you’d wake up, but you were out like a light.” Jasper engaged the handbrake and leaned over to kiss her. “Sleeping beauty.”
Abigail snorted. “Now I know you’re lying.”
“Peaceful. Elegant. Only very minimal amounts of drool.”
“Oh, God.” Abigail covered her face with her hands— and swiped surreptitiously at her mouth. Her glove came away dry. No drool. Thank goodness. “I can’t believe I fell asleep in the middle of our date. You put so much effort into organizing everything— the food, the dogsledding— and I just straight-up passed out. I’m a lousy date.”
“Don’t be sorry. If you needed to sleep, you needed to sleep.” He grinned and touched her cheek. The gold and red sparks were gone from his eyes, but— Abigail blinked. She must have been completely wrong when she thought his eyes were brown. They were the color of a low fire, just beginning to flicker out. No gold and red sparks, just a soft, inviting glow that warmed her from the inside out.
She frowned, remembering. “Did you have something you wanted to ask me?”
Jasper’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth— and then shut it again. “It can wait,” he murmured. “The important thing is, I got you back home before you turned into a pumpkin.”
Abigail looked out the window. There was her apartment: plain white walls, dark unlit windows. She still had to put her uniform in the laundry, and…
A vision of a small mountain cottage formed in her mind. Jasper’s bachelor pad— the one he must have hardly spent any time at since he arrived in Pine Valley. She made up details, matching them to the man sitting beside her in the car.
Solid wooden walls, and thick, luxurious rugs on the floor. A roaring fire, for sure. Deeply cushioned chairs, and a kitchen stocked with everything you would need for a holiday cut off from the world by snow.
And Christmas decorations. She bet that even if he hadn’t had time for anything else, he had a tree. She closed her eyes, imagining. Would there be stockings over the fireplace? No, he was here visiting family, wasn’t he? The stockings would be in their house.
Well, that was the sensible option, at least. Was it the option that a man who’d bought her expensive gifts on a few days’ acquaintance would take? Or would he fill every inch of his life with Christmas cheer and generosity, regardless of double-ups?
Her heart ached. It wasn’t worth even wishing he’d taken her there, instead of here to her cold, empty apartment. She wouldn’t fit in anywhere like that.
She opened her eyes. Jasper’s ember-like gaze burned into her. Maybe she didn’t fit into his world— but he could fit into hers. At least until he figured out how badly they were matched.
“Do you want to come up?” she asked, her voice rough.
Jasper smiled. “Always.”