Second Chances with St. Nick

7. Lost Loves and Laundry Carts

7

LOST LOVES AND LAUNDRY CARTS

I woke with a start, my heart racing. The room was quiet and dark, lit only by the faint glow of moonlight on the snow outside. The eerie gleam reminded me of the plastic stars I’d stuck on my ceiling as a kid or the glow-in-the-dark slime I got stuck in my hair in fifth grade. But as I listened in the stillness, I swore I heard the distant sound of jingle bells. And a thumping noise, like someone was stomping around in heavy boots.

Craning my neck, I twisted my head to hear more. It sounded like the noise was coming from the room next door. Had Santa checked in for the night?

I chuckled to myself. How much had I drunk?

My throat burned as I swallowed. Yep, too much. I needed to rehydrate. Bleary-eyed and bleary headed, I tightened the robe at my waist, slipped off the bed, and crept out of my room in search of ice water and any news on the road conditions. I could picture Mom freaking out right about now, but despite my pounding head and wobbly legs, I made it to the door without bumping into anything sharp.

I stepped out into the dim hallway. As I glanced around, no details snapped into focus—the surrounding walls remained a blur. On instinct, I reached up to the top of my head. Nothing. Just an unruly tangle of curls. The distant memory of my glasses laying folded on the nightstand had my gut plummeting right through the carpet.

I took a step backward, but my heart sank when the clunk of the door lock punctuated the air behind me. I sucked in a thin breath. Where did I put the key? With a racing pulse, I checked my pockets, coming up empty. Crap, crap, crap! Now I was half blind and helpless in an unfamiliar corridor. I hadn’t bothered to take notice of my surroundings earlier. Only the snowdrifts and Nick consumed my thoughts.

I steadied my breath. Time to calm down, Abbie. Maybe someone at reception could let me back into my room. They’d have a master key for sure. But how the hell would I get down the stairs in one piece?

With a grimace, I reached out and groped my way along the wall, the slippery sheen of the wallpaper cool under my fingertips. Even without my optical limitations, I didn’t have a reputation for being graceful. Hell, I’d failed all my ballet exams as a kid. Predictably, I found the only obstacle in my path—a pair of shoes. They tangled with my feet, taking them out from under me.

As I stumbled backward, my outstretched hand hit something solid. Before I could grip it, it slipped away under my weight. A groan of air left my body, and I went down with an unceremonious thump, butt meeting carpet.

Within a second, a wall of white engulfed me, and a shower of softness rained down. The smell of fresh laundry tickled my nostrils until, finally, pale silence surrounded me.

What the hell just happened?

I groped outward with both hands, finding taut material, like canvas. I pushed against it, but it sprang back. Okay, this was freaky, like being stuck in a tent with no door. I strained my ears for sound.

Apart from my racing breath, all I heard was a faint squeak, like a spinning wheel. The creaky whine reminded me of my old roller skates before Dad gave them a lick of oil every spring.

I widened my eyes. White fabric? Tent-like? The smell of laundry and squeaky wheels? There was only one ridiculous explanation, but it fit, considering I was in a hotel corridor. I’d locked myself out of my room, glasses-free, and flipped a laundry cart on top of me. Because, of course, if anyone was going to end up in this kind of mess, it would be me, right?

Drowning in sheets and who knew what else, reality hit me—laundry carts were heavy. There was no way I’d get out easily. What if someone found me like this? The Pine Springs Press would have a field day with that headline too!

I punched at the sides, gripping random laundry items in my fists. “Hello!” I called, my voice muffled by the fabric cocoon smothering me. “A little help, please?”

Suddenly, mercifully, as if St. Peter himself opened the pearly gates of heaven, a heavy clunk rang out and the white veil lifted.

I blinked into a sliver of light in front of me. A silhouetted figure—tall and broad—stood in what could only be an open doorway.

I swallowed. Hell. Saint Peter had hit the gym.

“Are you looking for somewhere to hang your pillowcase?”

The man’s voice hit me like a jackhammer, and I inhaled a now-familiar scent of cinnamon and pine. My fingers loosened around the cotton in my hand. “Is that what I’m holding? I mean, I’d usually go for a stocking, but I was kind of low on options.”

A low, growly chuckle rumbled through the air. It sounded like a bear enjoying a good tummy tickle. At the sound, a prickle crept up my neck and my hair raised, as if I was standing alone on the plains during a thunderstorm. “Nick?”

He leaned down and offered me a solid arm, helping me up as if I was a feather. The smell of wood smoke mingled with his cologne, and the heat of his body made its way through my robe. I couldn’t see well, but I got the impression he was staring at me. Studying me, even. Under his gaze, my skin tingled.

Words came out of my mouth in a jumbled burst. “I… I’m… I’m in the next room.” I pointed in the vague direction of my door. “I locked myself out, but my glasses are still inside.” At his silence, I swallowed. “Remember how I can’t see much without them?” I gave my shoulders a tiny shrug. “But at least I found the laundry cart… or… it found me.”

My rescuer breathed out another low, throaty chuckle. In the gloom, I made out a smile playing on his lips. Well, if this wasn’t Nick, it was good to know St. Peter appreciated humor. At least, when the time came, I could one-line my way into heaven.

Now fully upright, I steadied my balance. More laundry items fell away from my body as I wobbled against him. Thank goodness I still had a hold of his arm. And damn, what an arm it was. The outline of every single muscle made its way through the soft fabric of his sleeve. A shiver ran over my body.

“You must be freezing,” he said. “Come in and warm up before we find you a spare key.”

His voice caressed me again, but I hesitated on the threshold of his room. Following Nick inside probably wasn’t the wisest move. Hadn’t I spent most of the last twenty-four hours thinking about him and I locked tight together on the dance floor at The Timberline? And hadn’t those thoughts turned decidedly murkier as I lay awake in bed last night? I could hear my mother’s nagging voice in my head already.

“I don’t care how well you know someone. Young ladies don’t go into men’s hotel rooms without a damn good reason, or at least a chaperone.”

Despite this not being Victorian England, she was probably right. But hell, I’d had enough of being told what to do. She and my ex could form their own club.

I squinted at Nick again, trying to make him out. Yes, I’d pictured him naked last night. Had all kinds of “non-old-best-friend-appropriate” thoughts, but I had to be practical. Tipsy and half-blind, I wouldn’t get far on my own.

Instead of declining his invitation like a sane person, I swallowed hard, nodded and followed my first love into his room.