Snowbound with the Santas (Forbidden Fantasies)

7. Rayne

7

RAYNE

H e isn’t kidding.

Wrapped in a coat that’s far too heavy for me and wearing boots three sizes too big, I follow him outside into a stunning, crisp white landscape.

The man before me, Nick, seems sweet. His gesture of showing me his passport is certainly endearing, but it means very little if I’m stuck here. He could say literally anything and I have no choice but to believe him.

I put all of that aside for a moment and huddle into the coat, unable to even fully comprehend the breathtaking view before me.

The cabin is nestled in a small valley between two towering mountain peaks on either side of us, stretching up toward a crystal blue sky.

I’d seen these same mountains on my way to the sky lodge and yet somehow, their beauty escaped me until right this second. They look close enough that I could reach out and touch them both with one hand. They stand proud like snow cones, covered in glistening snow that sparkles all the way down to the tops of the trees that hug the base of each mountain and surround the cabin.

Several smaller peaks attach to the mountain on the right, visible just above the tips of the towering trees. There’s something so stunning about how natural all of this is. Even the wooden cabin behind me looks more like it was formed here than that it was actually built. The rustic log walls and slatted roof make it look like something out of a storybook, and my heart swells a little just taking in every detail.

If I died and this is my heaven, I can accept that.

This is nothing like the ski lodge, where hundreds of lights blast away the darkness and replace natural beauty with artificial sparkle. I scan every detail, barely aware that Nick is watching from a few feet away. Even the trees are stunning, all standing proud like a hundred Christmas trees lined up and harboring infinite secrets.

“Wow,” I finally manage to say. “You live here?”

“For part of the year,” Nick says with a warm smile, and his naturally friendly air makes me feel at ease. Maybe that’s because of how swiftly he tended to my leg—although that could also be because no one in my life has ever swept me up as easily as he did.

Those muscles are enough to make a girl lose all her senses.

“The three of you?” Beyond Nick, another man trudges heavily through the snow and he pauses when his deep brown eyes lock onto me.

He holds an axe in one hand and several chopped logs cradled against his chest with the other.

It’s the man I watched from my window.

Feeling the biting cold nipping at any bare skin escaping my coat, I can’t quite fathom how he stands there in just a shirt. He’s built just as thickly as Nick is, so maybe it’s a muscle man thing. They run hot, right? And he’s been out here swinging that axe, chopping all that wood like some sweaty, sexy mountain man.

My throat goes dry, and I feel like I should look away because his expression is anything but happy, but I can’t do it.

I’m locked onto him like I’m in some kind of trance.

“Rayne, this is Archer. Archer Davis. Archer, this is Rayne.”

Archer grunts just once in greeting, and while he seems to eye me with an air of suspicion, he does move the axe behind his body and out of sight.

“Archer is our resident grumpy carpenter,” Nick explains with another flash of that warm smile. “He might look like wants to kill you, but it’s with love.”

A small pulse of alarm breaks through me. Archer’s eyes snap to Nick and his gaze darkens, then Nick spins around to face me.

“I’m so sorry, that was a joke. I know how that sounds. I swear he doesn’t want to kill you. I was just… I am so sorry.”

He’s so endearing that it’s hard not to feel at ease, so I flash him a smile. “It’s okay, I understand. He does look pretty pissed off.”

“Only because you both talk about me like I’m not right here,” Archer says.

He recaptures my attention immediately. His voice is deep and very gravelly, almost like a rumble, and it sends an exciting thrill through my body.

“Well,” I say boldly, “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry, I presumed you only communicated in grunts and I’m not fluent.”

Archer’s thick eyebrows twitch upward faintly while Nick snorts out a burst of laughter.

“He’s a man of few words, that’s for sure.”

The brief softness in Archer’s eyes—that may be my imagination—vanishes as soon as he looks back at Nick.

“Prick.”

“Archer’s the one who dug you out of the snow and carried you back to our truck,” Nick explains.

“Thank you,” I say to Archer. He glances back at me and grunts, then continues on toward the cabin.

I’m tempted to grunt back, but I keep the urge at bay because the sound of snow crunching from the tree line diverts my attention. Just as Nick offers me his elbow to lean on when walking, a third man walks from the forest carrying a bag on one shoulder and several fish dangling from lines on the other.

“Nick!” the stranger bellows in a sweet, light voice. “Brother, you will not believe the luck I had this morning. Not to brag or anything, but I think I’m becoming the fish whisperer. Is that even a thing? Fuck knows. Anyway, we’re eating good tonight.”

“Brother?” I ask quietly, curious of the relationship since this new man does not look like Nick at all.

He looks slightly younger than the other two with a wild mop of short brown hair on his head and sparkling green eyes that rest above a lopsided grin. His jaw is dusted with facial hair.

“Not related,” Nick clarifies to me, then he turns to the stranger. “Frankie, this is Rayne.”

Frankie stops suddenly when he spots me, and that adorable lopsided grin widens.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t even see you there. Wait—should she be up and walking around? That wound was no joke.”

“I’m okay,” I assure him, clutching a little tighter at Nick’s arm. “Right now, the pain is my own doing.”

Frankie glances between us. “Dude, did you scare her?”

“No,” Nick replies sharply. “Not intentionally, at least, but this isn’t exactly an ideal situation to wake up in.”

“Says who?” Frankie casts one arm wide. “We’re in the crystal heart of nature. What could be more beautiful?”

“Maybe not waking up alone with three strange men?” Nick points out.

Frankie halts his movements. “Right. Sorry.” His eyes dart back to me. “Are you okay? Would it be completely useless of me to say that you’re safe here?”

“I think that might be a show, don’t tell kind of deal,” I admit. Then I glance at the fish. “You… caught those? Up a mountain?”

“Oh, for sure!” Frankie holds them aloft like a trophy. “There’s all sorts of lakes and rivers in the mountains. You just gotta know how to ice fish and how to sweet talk them onto the hook.”

“He says sweet talk,” Nick scoffs, turning us back to the cabin. “But really he means stealing my jerky and using it to lure in the best fish.”

“It works,” Frankie points out, falling into step beside us. “That’s the important thing.”

“Not for those of us who want to eat jerky!”

“Okay, true, but what would you rather have—a nice, succulent fillet of fried fish or some dried shoe leather?” Frankie asks.

“Please don’t say succulent ever again,” Nick groans.

“If you don’t choose, then it’s an auto vote for fish,” Franke declares.

“Fine. Jerky.”

“And you?” Frankie lifts one brow. “Be our tie-breaker?”

I can’t help but chuckle at his eagerness. Sending Nick a sorrowful glance, I choose. “Fish. I’m sorry, I’m not a fan of aggressive chewing.”

“Breaking my heart.” Nick chuckles, faking a wounded look. “Neither of you come crying to me when you realize that fish have parasites.”

“Ew!”

Inside, Nick gives me a proper change of clothes—a pair of cargo pants and a fresh shirt—while reminding me that the warmth inside the cabin is deceptive. He lets me dress while he hunts out a better coat for me to wear, and once I’m sorted, I limp back out to the kitchen.

Frankie sets a glass of water and some painkillers down on the table for me, then returns to the stove, where a wood fire burns underneath, cooking the fish above.

Archer doesn’t seem to be around. My stomach pulls faintly as the scent of fried fish fills the air, and Nick eases into a chair next to me then sets a map down on the table.

“This is the ski lodge where you’re staying,” he says, pointing it out on the map. “And we are here. I think we found you around about here.”

“Oh, my God.” I lean forward against the table, trying to calculate just how far away the lodge is. “We’re so far away.”

“You must have driven for a long time,” Frankie says above the hiss of the fish in the pan. “What made you drive all the way into the mountains so late at night during a storm, of all things?”

Suddenly, Ashton pops into my mind, followed by my mother and Cecil. God. It all oddly feels so long ago now, even though only a few days have passed. Do they know I’m missing? Would they even care?

Being apart from them suddenly seems like the most amazing thing that could have happened because I don’t want to face any of them, I don’t want to be near them, and I certainly don’t want to deal with Ashton threatening to expose my past to anyone who would listen.

“I…” There’s no excuse I can think of.

“Did you season that properly?” Nick speaks up suddenly, pulling Frankie’s attention back to the fish. “It’s looking a little pale.”

“Of course I seasoned it,” Frankie remarks sharply. “Who do you take me for, Archer?”

I shoot Nick a grateful glance, then clear my throat softly as I touch the map.

“Is there a way I can call them? So they know where I am? I noticed I had no signal on my phone so… I’m sure my mom will be worried.”

If anything, I want to let Nina know that I’m okay and tell her everything that’s happened with my family and my ex. I need her comfort. I need her advice.

“There’s no cell service up this high,” Frankie says.

“No,” Nick agrees, “but we communicate with the radio and we have small bouts of Wi-Fi from a transmitter, but that’s depending on the time of day, the winds, etc. Being in the mountains is usually about minimal tech.”

“Makes sense.” I nod slowly. “Can I use the radio?”

“No,” comes a short, gravelly response. Archer trudges in the door and stamps snow from his boots. The sudden gust of biting cold air is painful, and I huddle up in my chair. While Archer is quick to close the door, the freezing cold lingers and a sharp shiver shoots down my spine.

“Why not?” My heart starts to race, wondering if this is the catch. That their pleasantness and kindness were all an act, and the truth of being trapped here is about to hit me.

“Because the storm knocked out the tower,” Nick explains with a sad smile. “I understand you want to contact your family, and we want that too, so that no one is worried.”

“And so no one thinks we’ve kidnapped you,” Frankie adds with a toss of the pan.

“But to do that,” Archer says as he kicks off his boots, “we’ll need to hike up into the mountain and fix that tower.”