Snowbound with the Santas (Forbidden Fantasies)

14. Rayne

14

RAYNE

“ Y ou fucker,” Archer mutters as he towels his hands try. “If you scare me like that again, I will kill you.”

Frankie looks up from the chopping board and grins, placing one hand on his chest. “You do care.”

Archer gives him a withering glare which lacks the usual bite I’m used to seeing, and a smile creeps up onto my own face.

The hike back to the cabin from the tower was much easier, and it passed quickly too, although that might have just been my perception. Archer was a little warmer toward me after I saved his life, although I quickly waved away the notion because everything was so heightened in the moment that I only reacted to what I saw.

Still, Archer chose to walk beside me on the hike back, and while he didn’t speak much, his presence was so warm that I found myself enjoying just being next to him. That, coupled with the relief that Frankie really was okay, put everyone in a happier mood.

Coming back to the cabin was like coming home. Comfort immediately soaked into my bones, and getting out of the heavy camping gear was such a relief.

Now I sit in the kitchen with Archer and Frankie as they prepare dinner while Nick showers, and light thunder rumbles overhead. The new storm was hot on our heels, and luck was definitely on our side that we made it back home just after dark.

“Look, all I’m saying is that the next time that radio goes down, we are not fixing it.” Frankie resumes chopping an onion. “That shit broke under me, and I’m the lightest. No one is going back up that tower.”

“Fine,” Archer grumbles, turning back to the sink and dipping his hands in the water. “Next time, I’ll make sure they send a professional.”

“You think there will be a next time?” I ask, toying with the salt shaker.

“Oh, definitely.” Frankie nods. “That tower is old. Lucky it’s even still standing.”

I watch him closely as he chops, checking for any sign that he’s not okay. Just in case. While physically, he might be fine, a fall like that from any height is scary, and Frankie is very clearly a soft soul.

The door creaks and Nick trudges in, his long hair soaking in a towel. “Shower’s free,” he says, running a hand over his face. “What’s for dinner?”

“Stew,” Frankie replies. “Hot and hearty.”

“Speaking of.” Nick slides down onto the stool next to me. “Christmas.”

“Christmas?” I lift one brow.

“With the other storm rolling in, I know there’s still a few weeks until Christmas, but in the off chance we’re not able to reunite you with your family before Christmas Day, I want to make sure that you can still have a nice time. If it’s your kind of thing?”

The sincerity in his voice warms my heart immensely and my smile creeps wider. “I love Christmas,” I admit softly. “It’s actually the only reason I even came on holiday with my family this year, partly because I felt like I owed them, but there was also a teeny, tiny part of me that wanted to see an extravagant Christmas. Does that make sense?”

I glance between all three of them.

“I mean, I usually do something small myself with friends, but I kind of go all out. I get the biggest tree I can find and as many decorations as I can afford and I dress up. I even have a collection of ugly sweaters.”

“Of course you do,” Archer mutters, but there’s a softness in his tone that I could easily mistake for affection.

“Which, by the way…” I chuckle. “It’s total propaganda because I challenge you to find me a hideous Christmas sweater. People just act like it because they’re so weirdly afraid of admitting that they actually enjoy the time of year or the designs.”

“Well.” Nick laughs. “I don’t know about sweaters, but I’m pretty sure we have some decorations in storage. But I was thinking more about dinner?—”

“Really?” I don’t mean to interrupt him, but excitement fizzes inside me at the prospect of decorating. It would be a fun thing to do if I’m going to be stuck here, and frankly, this place needs some festive cheer.

It’s December, and the fir trees outside are not enough to get into the Christmas spirit.

“Dinner?” Nick asks.

“No, decorations! Can I see them? I mean, would that be okay if we put some up? Just… if I am going to be stuck here, then it would be really nice to get some tinsel up or even a little reindeer?”

“I’m on her side.” Frankie smirks. “It would do you two good to see some color.”

Archer grunts, but Nick seems oddly hesitant, and I try to reel back my excitement.

“Unless they’re in storage for a reason? I mean if there’s a problem, then?—”

“No,” Nick cuts in quickly. “There’s no problem. They’re just, uh…” Nick suddenly seems uncertain for the first time since meeting him, and his deep frown makes my stomach flip. “We just haven’t looked at them in a while.”

I catch Frankie and Archer exchanging a look, and my stomach tightens. I feel like I may have stepped into something I shouldn’t have.

“Oh, well I mean, that’s okay.” I quickly try to backtrack, distracting myself with a dent in the wooden table.

“No. Frankie’s right. Color is good, and it’s a shame they’ve been stored for so long.”

Before I can say anything else, Nick is on his feet and he strides out of the kitchen. When he returns, his normal smile is back on his face and he carries a box under one arm. In the other, he holds up a small, rather pathetic looking Christmas tree that’s spent one too many years flat packed with boxes.

“I found this!” He holds it up, and its crumpled state even pulls a bark of laughter from Archer.

“Shit, I thought we tossed that thing years ago.”

“This was back when we had a rather long debate about whether fake or real was better for a tree,” Frankie explains as he moves his cooking off the table and onto the counter.

“Frankie was on the fake side and brought this pathetic thing.”

“Oh, my God.” Rising, I help Nick place the box on the table and then eye the remains of the fake tree. “I’m assuming fake lost that discussion?”

“Oh, yes.” Nick chuckles. “I forgot we even had this.”

“This year, we’re getting a real tree,” Frankie says. “However, if we ever get accused of deforestation, then I’m coming for you guys.”

“We’re surrounded by trees,” Archer grumbles, drying his hands once more. “We’re the only fuckers taking care of them.”

Archer excuses himself while Nick opens the box and unleashes a cloud of dust throughout the room.

“Holy shit!” I dart back, coughing. “All this dust in a year?”

“Might be longer than a year since we looked at these,” Nick says sheepishly. Reaching inside the box, he pulls out a string of beautiful silver tinsel and the lingering awkwardness in my heart slowly melts away.

“Oh, wow.” I take it from him and drape the strand around my shoulders. “Beautiful.”

“Agreed,” Nick says softly, his attention locked on me.

“What else is there?” I lean into the box and my eyes widen. Nick wasn’t kidding. There are countless decorations inside the box, and the overwhelming choices feed into my excitement and I look up at him, beaming.

We spent the next hour poring over the box, and my thoughts burst with ideas on what to start with. There are countless reams of tinsel and multiple boxes of string lights, all different designs and colors. There’s a couple of angels for the top of the tree, boxes of baubles and festive ornaments, as well as a fat silver robin that I place on Frankie’s shoulder as he dances past while cooking. There are faded Christmas cards and a few coloring books that Nick takes and puts out of sight before I can spend too much time going over them. With only one roll of wrapping paper and a few wooden animals like a stag and a donkey, I’m overflowing with ideas.

“Can I?” I ask finally, once the entire box has been examined and any broken items discarded. “I can make this place look amazing.”

“Better than the rustic winter cabin look we have right now?” Nick smiles over a mug of tea. “Sure. Be my guest.”

“Amazing!” I bounce up onto the balls of my feet. It’s like a dream. The freedom to decorate this beautiful place and to lose myself in the festivities just for a little while. “Although…” I glance over at Frankie. “We will need a tree.”

“A real one?”

“Please.”

Frankie affectionately rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

Archer finally reappears, puffing out his cheeks. His eyes widen at the festive decorations spilling over the table.

“Any luck contacting Search and Rescue?” Nick asks, toying with one of the wooden figures.

“I reached them,” Archer confirms. “Eventually.”

My fingers pause playing with the tinsel. “And?”

“I informed them that we rescued you from the snow, gave them the dates and a list of your injuries as well as all of our identification. They wanted to talk to you, but the storm is basically on top of us and I was losing them, so they said they will pass on your wellbeing to your family, and they’ll be back in contact as soon as this storm passes.”

“Oh, that’s great news!” says Frankie, absently stirring the stew. “Your family will know you are safe.”

I smile, but on the inside I’m hollow. It is good news. It should be, if my situation were normal. A sharp jolt of anxiety bursts through my chest and all the muscles in my abdomen cramp up.

They’re going to know I’m okay.

Ashton is going to know.

Reality is clawing me back and I don’t want to go. Not even for a second.

“Well, I still think we should decorate,” Nick says with a smile. “You can leave a little of yourself here with us before you go home.”

I force my smile wider as I pull the tinsel from my shoulders. Each pulse of anxiety in my chest makes the walls draw in a little closer, and the air is suddenly thicker.

I need to get out of here just to breathe.

“Yeah,” I say, swallowing hard when my voice trembles. “I’m glad.” Setting the tinsel down, I clench my fists to hide the shakes and quickly excuse myself from the kitchen under the guise of taking a shower.

Fuck .

Fucking hell.

I knew I couldn’t stay here forever. I knew that, but each moment here has been so sweet that I’ve tried to cling to it with all my strength.

But there’s no stopping time.

I hurry to my bedroom and make it just in time for an impulsive gasp to escape me. I clutch at my waist and force a calming breath as Ashton’s slimy, smug face bursts into my thoughts.

“Rayne?”

I spin around with a gasp, not having heard anyone following me. Archer stands in the doorway.

“Rayne. What’s wrong?”