Christmas Cancellation

5. NOELLE

Chapter five

K ol ensured slippery mode was still on, then engaged what he called the 4A setting, explaining that it was designed for low-traction surfaces like snow and mud. I braced myself, gripping the handle tighter as he shifted into reverse.

“Time to get out of this mess,” he muttered.

He pressed down carefully on the accelerator, and the tires spun a bit before catching some traction. The Bronco inched backward, its massive wheels biting through the snow with a low rumble. Kol rocked us back and forth in short bursts, reversing just enough to break free from the bank and allowing us to move toward the highway. As the tires hit patches of uneven ground at different angles, we were tossed from side to side. Each bump caused the cabin to sway as the suspension worked to absorb the impact. All the while, Kol grinned, as if backing out of a snowbank and maneuvering over the dips and ruts was just another Monday for him.

When we were almost to the highway, we lurched over a snow-covered rock, jarring the cabin and rattling my bones. I clutched the handle, bracing for the next impact, holding on for dear life. Kol, on the other hand, was still gripping the steering wheel, calm as ever, like we were cruising down a sunny highway and not bouncing through a frozen obstacle course.

“How are you so calm?” I asked, my voice higher than usual. “It feels like we’re about to tip over at any moment.”

Kol smirked, keeping his eyes locked on the terrain. “You’ve gotta feel the ground through the truck. Plus, I do this kind of thing all the time. Off-roading is a blast.”

“Off-roading?” I gave him a side-eye. “You actually do this for fun?” My knuckles were white now, but he didn’t seem fazed.

He gave me a quick glance, his grin widening. “Yep, there’s a Bronco club, and we have these Off-Roadeos all over the country. Mud pits, rocky slopes, you name it. Way more fun than what we’re doing.”

We hit another patch of uneven ground, and the Bronco jerked forward as Kol effortlessly steered us over it. “You should try off-roading sometime, Stinkerbelle,” he said teasingly. “You might like it.”

I shook my head. That was a hard pass. “Maybe next time, when I’m not fearing for my life.”

But I couldn’t deny that he was handling the Bronco like a pro. It was, well…impressive. I was maybe even a little jealous that he was so at ease while I was practically vibrating with anxiety.

We finally made it back to the highway, the snow-packed ground giving way to the pavement of the shoulder. Traffic remained at a near standstill, and now there were more cars backed up farther than the eye could see .

Still shaking, I latched onto the armrest to keep myself steady. I wasn’t about to show Kol how freaked out I was. At least, I hoped I wasn’t.

One of the cars gave us space to merge into the line of traffic. Kol chuckled and guided us back onto the highway. “No need to worry. This thing’s built for survival. Just like me.”

I forced a shaky laugh, trying to act like everything was fine, even though my pulse was still racing from flying off the road.

Kol shifted in his seat and glanced at the traffic ahead. “There’s got to be a wreck on the bridge. They always freeze up first.”

If that was the case, the flashing lights we’d seen earlier would make sense—it must have been an emergency vehicle rushing toward an accident up ahead. It would explain the backup. We were barely moving. Who knew how long it would take to get around whatever was up ahead? All the red taillights glowed brightly against the fresh white snow. Funny how they added a pop of holiday color to the otherwise dreary scene, like neon candy canes, making the situation feel a little less miserable.

I sighed, looking at the line of cars that stretched toward the Mohawk River. “Fantastic,” I muttered. “Nothing like spending hours sitting in dead-stopped traffic.”

Kol glanced at me, his brows bouncing as a half smile tugged at his lips. “Don’t worry, we’re not sitting here all night. There’s an exit up ahead. Route Nine runs parallel to the highway. We can jump on that and get around this mess.”

Before I could ask what he had in mind, Kol was guiding the Bronco onto the shoulder, easing us past the line of stopped cars. The other vehicles barely moved as we cruised along the edge, and soon the green exit sign for Troy Schenectady Road came into view.

Moments later, we veered onto the exit ramp, leaving the jammed traffic behind. Kol soon turned onto New Loudon Road, and we were immediately surrounded by strip malls, gas stations, and fast-food places.

“I think it’s time we stop and get some gas,” he said, glancing over at me. “Maybe stretch and grab something to eat? Couldn’t hurt, right?”

My stomach growled in agreement, and I realized I hadn’t had a real meal all day. Plus, I seriously needed to use the bathroom. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I could definitely use a break.”

Kol pulled into the first gas station we came across. After the long, dark drive, the brightness of the fluorescent lights made me squint. As soon as we pulled up to a pump, I wasted no time unbuckling my seat belt, grabbing my tote, and jumping out. My legs wobbled like Jello, and I nearly stumbled, but I quickly shook it off. “I’ll be quick,” I said, rushing toward the building, now desperately needing to go.

Inside the bathroom, I glanced in the mirror. I was glad I’d thought to grab my tote—I looked rough. I hadn’t had a chance to clean up all day, and it showed. I dug through the bag, pulling out a compact, some wipes, and a hairbrush. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. I managed to wipe away the smudges of exhaustion and tears from under my eyes, run the brush through my hair, and dab on a bit of tinted lip balm. At least now I looked somewhat presentable. I grimaced at my reflection, thinking of how haggard I must have appeared the entire drive.

I worked to pull myself together as best I could, then glanced down at my phone and realized I’d been in here a while. A twinge of guilt hit me for taking so long. With a sigh, I stuffed everything back into my tote and hurried out of the bathroom.

Kol was standing at the counter with a bag of snacks in one hand and two steaming cups of coffee on the counter in front of him. I quickened my steps, reaching him as the cashier was handing him a receipt. “Sorry that took so long,” I said sheepishly.

He shrugged and gave me a little smirk, sliding one of the coffee cups over. “No problem. It took me some time to put the snow chains on.”

I grinned. “Always the Boy Scout, huh? Prepared for anything?”

“Something like that.” He chuckled. “After living in upstate New York for the last several years, I’ve learned to keep chains on hand this time of year.”

I wrapped my hands around my coffee cup, the warmth instantly thawing my cold fingers, and raised it to my nose. Immediately, I recognized the aroma—peppermint mocha. “Mmm, this smells so good.” I took a small sip, testing the temperature.

“I figured you’d appreciate something festive.”

“It’s my favorite,” I said with a soft smile, glancing at him over the brim. “Especially around Christmas. How did you know?”

Kol shrugged and tucked his card into his wallet, which he then shoved into his back pocket. “Lucky guess.”

I took a long sip of the peppermint-infused coffee. “You didn’t have to, but…this is perfect. Thank you.”

He handed me the bag of snacks. “I figured caffeine and sugar would help us survive the rest of the way to Saratoga,” he said, grabbing a couple of bottles of water I hadn’t noticed and tucking them under his arm. Turning to leave, he added, “I’ve got strong black coffee to keep me sane.” He lifted the cup in a toasting motion before switching it to his other hand to swing the door open for me.

As I walked across the parking lot, I peeked in the bag and laughed. “Popcorn, candy—looks more like a night at the movies.”

“You know, it’s the whole salty and sweet combination. It’s also easy to eat while driving.”

Kol walked me to the passenger side, resting one hand on the small of my back. The motion was so natural, like he’d done it a thousand times before. Once there, he opened the door for me. It was such a gentlemanly thing to do. Blake had never once bothered.

Kol placed his coffee in the center console, then stuck the water bottles into the side pocket of the door before securing my peppermint mocha in the cup holder. He offered me his hand, helping me step up into the seat. The gesture threw me for a loop. This guy, with all his gruff exterior and brashness, had a soft streak.

He closed my door and returned to the gas pump, putting the handle back in its place. After shutting the fuel door, he rounded the front of the vehicle and got into the driver’s seat. We both buckled up, and Kol eased us back onto Route 9. There was less traffic now, but more snow. The road stretched ahead of us in quiet, white-lined solitude.

After a few moments, Kol cleared his throat. “All right, Stinkerbelle, we need a distraction.” His eyes stayed on the road, and his grip on the wheel relaxed, but I could sense he was up to something. “Let’s get to know each other better—see if you’re the whiny brat at the gate or the put-together marketing executive.”

“Ah, you’ve got—” Before I could finish, he started firing off questions.

“What’s your favorite color? And why?”

I whipped my head around, half-amused, half-offended by the sudden turn in the conversation. His curiosity caught me off guard yet again. There was something surprisingly appealing about how direct he was. Maybe I was winning this guy over a little. At the very least, he didn’t seem to hate me as much as he had back at the airport. “Starting with the easy ones, huh?” I shrugged, pretending to think it over. “Fine. Cerulean. You know, that blue the sky turns just before it’s completely dark and the stars start to twinkle awake.”

He let out a small chuckle. “You get points for being specific. I’m more of a forest green guy. The color of a Colorado blue spruce, you know?”

I cocked my head to the side. “Not army green?”

He shook his head. “No, I’ve seen enough of that color to last a lifetime.” Without missing a beat, he said, “Okay, next… Favorite dinner?”

“Lasagna,” I replied straightaway, the word spilling out almost reflexively.

“Why lasagna?” he asked, tilting his head slightly toward me, his eyes sparking with genuine interest. The way he was watching me reminded me of Amanda’s goldendoodle, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It’s a comfort thing,” I said, twisting around to study him, ready for whatever question came next. “My mom used to make it every Sunday. It’s like a warm hug with layers of sauce, cheese, and noodles. Plus, who doesn’t love carbs?” I quickly asked, “What’s yours?” I wanted to get answers too.

“Steak and potatoes,” he answered, licking his lips like the meat-asaurus he was. “But it’s gotta be rare.”

“Rare, really? You mean, still mooing?”

“Exactly,” he replied, deadpan. “It’s the only way to eat a good cut of meat.”

“Not Philistine,” I muttered, somewhat impressed.

Kol narrowed my eyes slightly. “Philistine? You gotta explain that one.”

“It means someone who’s, you know, uncultured, especially when it comes to art or food.” I smirked, shooting him a sideways glance. “And you, sir, liking your steak rare, shows you might have the makings of an epicure .”

He snorted before breaking into a full-blown laugh, the sound surprisingly warm. “Oh, jeez, you and your fancy words. I’ll have to trust you on that.” He tapped the wheel lightly, then glanced over. “Favorite dessert?”

I pretended to mull it over. “Probably tiramisu. I’m a sucker for anything with coffee and cream.”

He nodded approvingly. “Solid choice. Mine’s chocolate chip cookies. Nothing beats them fresh out of the oven.”

A grin spread across my face. “You haven’t had mine yet,” I teased. “My secret cherry chocolate chip cookie recipe would blow your mind.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Big words. I’ll believe it when I taste it.”

“Oh, you will,” I fired back. “And it’ll be life-changing.”

I’d just promised to make this guy cookies even though we would never see each other again after he dropped me off at Ms. Winters’s office. But hey, this little exercise was a good way to kill the boredom of the long drive.

His grin widened, and he returned his attention to the road. “We’ll see about that.”

Had he just shown an interest in seeing me again? My imagination went into overdrive, picturing what those massive hands and full lips could do to me. A sigh of desire slipped out. Oh, God, I hoped he didn’t notice.

The game continued, him lobbing question after question without giving me a chance to ask any in return. Drinks, hobbies, dream vacations—it was like a fast-paced interview but less formal, more playful.

After a while, I decided to put my foot down and take the spotlight off myself. “Okay, new rule. I’ll answer your questions, but you have to answer one of mine for every one of yours.”

“Deal,” he agreed with no hesitation. “So, tell me about your family.”

My stomach tightened. That was one topic I wasn’t ready to unpack. “My aunt passed away three weeks ago,” I said, picking the safest part of my story. “She was my only relative, but we weren’t very close.”

Kol’s grip on the wheel tightened, his lips forming a thin line as he nodded. His usual teasing smirk had vanished, replaced with a quiet seriousness. His eyes stayed on the road, but there was something different in the way he stared straight ahead. He seemed…affected by what I had said, like he cared.

“Sorry to hear that,” he said. “Losing family’s never easy, especially if you don’t have any other family.”

I was surprised by the softness in his tone. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

“Big Catholic family,” he replied simply. “Parents still married, one younger brother, two younger sisters, and lots of cousins. I’m the oldest. So, of course, I had to keep them all in line. It’s always loud and chaotic whenever we’re all together, just how my momma likes it.”

“So, you’re bossy. Good to know.”

“Only when necessary,” he said with a wink.

“What made you join the Army?”

He was quiet for a moment, his jaw tightening just a bit. “Family tradition,” he said finally. “My dad was in the Army. My grandfather too. It just made sense.”

I studied him. Based on his hesitation, there was more to it than that, but I didn’t push .

We continued like this, peeling back our layers one question at a time. He talked about his military experience but kept it brief, skimming over the darker parts.

The mention of his grandfather had me curious, and before I could think it through, I asked, “What’s your favorite childhood memory?” I immediately wished I could take the question back. What if he turned it back on me? It wasn’t something I usually asked, mostly because I dreaded answering that sort of thing myself. Now I’d opened a door I wasn’t ready to walk through.

He paused, rubbing his forehead. “Camping with my dad. We used to go every summer, just us guys. He taught me a lot about how to handle myself out in the wild.”

“That sounds…nice,” I said, my voice softer than before.

“Yeah, it was.” His smile faded slightly. “What about you? Any favorite memories?”

I hesitated, that familiar ache creeping in. I wasn’t ready to talk about my parents—not with him, not yet. “I’ll have to get back to you on that,” I said lightly.

I never shared my feelings about my past with anyone except Amanda. She had been there for me every step of the way after my parents died, a steady presence in the storm. Amanda understood the limits of my grief, that I could only face it in pieces. We’d spent countless nights talking it out, glasses of wine in hand, dissecting the pain and confusion. Still, there were things even she didn’t know—the darkest moments I couldn’t bring myself to voice. Those fragments of loss stayed locked away, buried so deep that not even Amanda’s comforting words could draw them out. Sometimes, I worried that confronting those buried memories might break me all over again. So, I held back, keeping those parts hidden, even from myself.

Kol glanced over at me. “Fair enough, Stinkerbelle. You’ve got layers too. ”

Our conversation created a lighter vibe between us, making the miles slip by. We’d settled into a comfortable rhythm, the banter making the tension in my shoulders ease up. But then, in an instant, the calm vanished.

The Bronco’s back end jerked to the side as we hit a patch of ice, and my stomach dropped faster than a roller coaster. My hand shot out to grip the handle, bracing for what might come next. Kol’s hands moved quickly on the wheel, steadying the truck.

“Whoa!” I yelped, my heart in my throat.

Kol gave me a quick glance. “It’s all good. Just a little fishtail. Nothing to worry about.” His words were more of a command than reassurance. He wasn’t about to let me spiral.

He let out a soft grunt. “Next question: Are you a virgin?” That had come out of nowhere, catching me completely off guard.

“What?” I spluttered, half-laughing at his audacity. “That’s way too personal, Mr. Captain!” But, of course, backing down from a challenge wasn’t my style, so I jutted my chin out and crossed my arms. “No, I’m not a twenty-six-year-old virgin. And now it’s your turn to answer a question. How many women have you been with?”

He smirked and turned to study me, running his fingers over the scruff of his chin. “Fewer than ten,” he replied smoothly.

“Seriously?” I arched an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “I pegged you for a much higher number, what with your time in the military and your playboy pilot status. I figured you’d have women throwing themselves at you at every destination.”

“Sorry to disappoint. I’m selective. Your turn. Same question.”

As I started to formulate a response, I glanced at the road ahead. Suddenly something clicked. He’d thrown out the virgin question on purpose, hadn’t he? It had been to distract me from the slippery roads and the hazardous conditions we were driving through. Clever. Kol had been doing that the entire ride—figuring out when I was getting too anxious. His ability to read me probably came from having two younger sisters. He was perceptive, way more than I’d given him credit for when we’d first met.

I tapped my fingers on the armrest, debating how much to share. “A handful,” I admitted. “Dated a guy in college who I thought I might marry. That blew up in my face when he cheated on me with one of my sorority sisters.” I let out a short laugh, though the memory still stung. “Cheating’s my line in the sand. No second chances.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Then there was Blake Mercer,” I said, scrunching up my nose. “But we’ve already covered that disaster in detail, so no need to go down that road again.”

Kol shifted his grip on the wheel. I bet he was as tired of sitting here as I was. Then he turned to me, giving me that smirk—the naughty one I was quickly learning meant he was about to ask something wholly inappropriate. “Okay, moving on. Condoms or bare?”

I nearly choked on my spit. Of all the questions… But I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me blush. “Bold question, Mr. Captain,” I shot back. “Bare, obviously, is better. Condoms can hurt, but the guy has to be clean as a whistle. What about you?” I crossed my arms, awaiting his response.

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Well, if the Army taught me one thing, it’s to never trust a chick in the baby-making department.”

My jaw dropped. “Wow, that’s cynical.”

He didn’t flinch. “Nope, just survival tactics.”

“Uh-huh,” I scoffed. “People shouldn’t be having sex if they don’t trust each other, but for your information, I have an IUD. Last thing I need right now is a baby,” I said, giving him a pointed look. “Okay, so it’s my turn.”

Kol nodded, a hint of amusement still dancing in his eyes. “Go ahead.”

“Are you married? Or have you ever been?” I asked.

“No.” His response came quickly, with no further explanation. He kept his gaze on the road, his expression unchanging.

I waited, but when it was clear he wasn’t going to offer up any more information, I asked another question. “Any kids?”

Again, just a simple “No.” This time, though, his jaw tightened ever so slightly. I watched him for a moment, weighing whether to push. Something about his body language told me to let it go, so I did.

Kol stayed quiet for a beat. Then, casually, he threw out another question. “What about you? You want to do the whole marriage and motherhood thing?”

I smiled softly, staring out at the swirling snow before answering. “Yeah, I do. If I meet the right guy. It’s a privilege, y’know? To have another human being’s life in your hands, to raise them, guide them… It’s an awesome responsibility. But I wouldn’t rush into it.”

He gave a slow nod, his features softening just a bit.

The silence stretched between us. As we continued along Route 9, the scenery gradually changed. The forest-lined road began to thin out, replaced by scattered homes and small businesses. It was subtle at first—just a lone building here, a cozy home there—but soon, the trees gave way to a mix of stores, restaurants, and neighborhoods. We were now in the heart of Saratoga Springs, where Route 9 seamlessly turned into Broadway, one of the major arteries of the city.

The city lights began to emerge through the snowfall, creating a warm glow that spread across the downtown area. The storefronts along Broadway were decked out in full Christmas glory—garlands wrapped around lampposts, wreaths hung on every door, and twinkling white lights draped like glistening icicles. Mannequins in the windows were dressed in holiday-themed outfits, surrounded by fake snow and model villages that were so detailed you’d swear you could hear tiny carolers singing from them.

Kol gave a low whistle, slowing down to take it all in. “Man, this place really pulls out all the stops for Christmas. Feels like we’re in one of those holiday movies.”

A pang hit my chest, but I forced a smile, not wanting him to pick up on my discomfort. “Yeah, Saratoga’s famous for this. They make sure every corner is sprinkled with holiday magic. Normally, on Christmas Eve, Eve, the sidewalks would be crowded with people. But I guess, with the storm and the hour getting late, people are choosing to stay home.”

As we cruised down Broadway, I spotted what had once been one of my favorite places to visit—a local bookstore. It was only one store down from a candy and ice cream shop. A slab of fudge and a new book, what could be better? In the bookstore’s window display, a model train chugged along a miniature track, weaving between books dusted with glittering snow. It was a kid’s dream world.

Across the street, a mom-and-pop market stood proudly on the corner of Caroline Street, illuminated by twinkling white lights. Out front was Saratoga Springs’s official Christmas tree, situated next to Santa’s Cottage. The whole scene was straight out of a Christmas card.

Kol’s eyes roamed from side to side. “It’s…something else,” he murmured, his focus on Santa’s Cottage and the glimmering Christmas tree in front of the market .

Everything here on Broadway was so beautifully familiar to me. Memories crowded in, bittersweet and tinged with heartache. The cheerful scene tugged at something deep inside me that I didn’t really want to deal with. I hadn’t been back to Saratoga during the holidays since…well, since everything had changed. The decorations, the lights—they stirred memories I’d been running from for years.

Kol unexpectedly enveloped my hand in his. “Did you use to come here a lot?” he asked gently.

“Every year,” I replied, forcing a lightness into my voice. “My parents loved the holidays. We’d come to see the tree lighting and wander through all the shops. Oh my gosh—when I was little, preparing to visit Santa was such a big deal. I had to have the right outfit and the perfect letter to explain why I shouldn’t be on his naughty list.” I chuckled, remembering how my mother always said that Danger should have been my middle name.

His eyes flicked back to the road. “Well the city sure nailed the holiday magic.”

I nodded, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Yeah, they always do a great job.”

Despite the tears stinging my eyes, I managed a small smile. “It’s nice to see they haven’t lost their touch.”

We turned onto Caroline Street, transitioning almost seamlessly from the downtown area to a quieter, Victorian neighborhood. Rows of historic homes lined the street, their classic architecture made even more charming with Christmas lights and lanterns glowing warmly on porches and in windows. Each house had its own character—a wreath here, a giant Nutcracker statue there—creating a patchwork of holiday spirit.

When the navigation system told us we’d reached our destination, Kol slowed. We approached a house on the left, and I spotted a sign that said: Holly Winters, Esquire. It stood next to the driveway of a beautiful Victorian home, the porch of which was strung with lights flickering beneath a growing layer of snow. The porch itself was adorned with rocking chairs and garlands, exactly like something out of a Christmas storybook.

Kol parked the Bronco, grabbed his leather flight jacket from the backseat, and exited the truck. He pulled on the bomber jacket as he rounded the car, and before I could even gather my things, he’d already made it to my side of the truck. I’d barely managed to unclasp my seatbelt before he was there, opening the door for me.

“C’mon, Stinkerbelle. Those boots aren’t made for walking in eight inches of snow.” He extended his hand, and I took it, sliding down from the high seat, my heels crunching into the snow.

I turned back and picked up my Dior tote from the floor and grabbed my coat, not bothering to put it on. “They’re perfectly fine boots,” I quipped, even though he was right. The ridiculous spiked heels were no match for the snow.

“Sure,” he said, wrapping an arm around me to steady me as we made our way up the driveway. “They’re great if you want to end up on your ass.”

I wanted to snap back at him, but the warmth of his touch threw me off, so I slid my arm inside his coat and around his waist and settled for an eye roll. “Duly noted, Mr. Captain.”

He chuckled softly, guiding me carefully up the porch steps until we reached the front door. Then he let go of me so I could knock. My breath fogged in the air as I waited, heart pounding. I hoped Ms. Winters was still around even though it was well past closing time.