Stuck With My Christmas Crush (Sweet Christmas Kisses)

12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Charlie

“ I t’s so beautiful!” I squeal, barely containing my excitement, as I rush to the open door. “I can’t wait to get out there and make snow angels.”

“Wait a minute,” Jason says, looking confused. “Don’t you mean, ‘I can’t wait to get home’?” He checks his phone.

“Yeah. Yes, I do. But how many times do you get this kind of fabulous deep snow? ”

“Too often.” He scrolls down his screen not looking at me. “It’s inconvenient and potentially dangerous.”

“Ah, yes. You’re right.” My mind switches back to trudging down the road in the freezing sideways rain only the day before; the drama of being stranded at the roadside in my broken car; the relief of being rescued by a handsome, although reserved ex-army guy with all sorts of practical survival skills. “But I had a nice time last night.” I beam enthusiastically. “It’s been fun getting to know you, Jason. And Rocko.”

Jason’s eyes shyly flick up from the screen to meet mine. He clears his throat. “We have phone connection. The internet is back on and the weather looks good for the next couple of days. The storms moved on, and reports say, ‘don’t travel unless absolutely necessary. Emergency services and volunteers are clearing roads. Stay tuned for updates’.”

“Well. That’s super. We have time for snow angels. The conditions are just right. Come on.”

“Um. Snow what?” Jason’s brow is furrowed, his head on one side. “And, um.” Jason breathes as if he’s addressing a simpleton. “What exactly is a snow angel?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No. No, I’m not. ”

“Well, come on. I’ll show you.” I take Jason’s hand and lead him to the front door.

“Wait. If we’re going outside, I think we need to dress appropriately, don’t you?”

“Yes. You’re right. I’ll put my fairy dress back on.” I say with seriousness. Jason stares hard at me but doesn’t say anything. “Jeez. I’m joking! Jason. I am joking.” I lean on the wall and indulge in some belly-holding mock laughter. “Yes. We should dress appropriately. Can I please borrow your coat again, and some boots?”

“Yes. Coat and boots coming up.”

Jason reaches up and unhooks a thick padded oilskin coat. I climb into it and roll up the sleeves a bit. Then I pull on Jason’s hiking boots and lace them up.

“They should be waterproof, but they’re old so, don’t complain if your feet get wet.” Jason puts on a padded jacket and pulls on another pair of hiking boots.

“I’m not going to complain at all. This is going to be so much fun. You’re going to love it.”

We head out into the frosty air closing the door behind us, so the house stays warm. Rocko barks when he sees that we’ve come out to play as well. He jumps around unaffected by the cold.

“Is this Rocko’s first experience of snow?” I ask.

“No. But he loves it. He’s just like a puppy. ”

“Alright. Well, if you hold onto Rocko, just in case he wants to jump on me, I’ll demonstrate.” Jason holds onto Rocko’s collar as I make my way to the flat area that is probably the front lawn of the hotel. “Now, as far as snow angel excellence goes, I don’t believe there is a national certificate or anything formal. But I am the best. So, please. Watch and learn.” I sit back in the middle of the crisp, crunchy snowy blanket, then lie down with my arms by my side. “This is the start position,” I shout to the sky.

I have no idea if Jason is watching or listening but, simultaneously, I raise each arm, stretched away from my body, marking the snow, incrementally, until my arms are straight above my head. At the same time, I open and close my legs like a pair of scissors. When I’m confident I have created the most beautiful snow angel in history, I carefully roll up into a standing position, give myself a shake, then bow theatrically as if I have just won gold at the Olympics. I wave at the imaginary judges who have all given me a standing ovation and are holding up scorecards displaying straight 10s.

“Now it’s your turn,” I say with a big smile.

“You know what? I’ll pass.” Jason releases Rocko. “Thanks, though, for the informative demonstration. I’m going to get a shovel. Maybe I can dig us out of here today.” He walks off. “And get you home. ”

My jovial mood falls flat. I look at my perfect snow angel and see how pathetic it is. Of course, we have more important things to do than playing in the wonderful, magical snow. I feel like crying although I’m not sure why.

“Pull yourself together,” I mutter under my breath as I stomp behind Jason back into the tiny gatehouse. I shake off my childish silliness and bravely say, “Okay, partner. Tool me up.”

Jason hands me a small spade from a stack of tools beside the door. He takes a big one.

“Here you go. I guess we’ll start from the cars and make a trail to the gate. See how that goes.”

“Gotcha, boss.”

I don’t know why, but I want to pummel Jason with snowballs and squish his face into my snow angel until he relents and promises to make one himself. But I don’t. Although the image of Jason’s stern expression squashed into a snowdrift does make me smile. Then I’m ashamed of my malicious thought. How could I even think of being mean to the man who saved my life? This thought makes me smile even more. And then, my smiles all disappear because I’m a little sad our time together is coming to an end .

The weak winter sunshine bounces off the dazzling snow. Rocko bounds around playfully billowing steamy breath.

I’ve cleared the snow from the cars. It slid off easily in satisfying chunks. I’m pleased with my progress and turn to see if Jason has noticed my excellent effort, but he’s too busy clearing the snow from the driveway. I can’t help but watch him. He’s like a machine. He has taken off his jacket and attacks each shovelful with energy and physicality which is truly admirable. I’m breathless just watching his manly shoulders and arms flex with rhythmic effort. I feel redundant but I take off my jacket, hang it on the gate too, and get stuck into the job at hand with my little shovel.

After a few minutes of shoveling snow from the driveway, I’m exhausted. I stop for a breather and allow myself to be distracted by Rocko who has dropped a stick at my feet.

“You just want to play, huh?”

I pick up the stick and throw it as far as I can. Jason stops shoveling snow to watch. I smile at him, but he looks away and keeps shoveling. The bright sunshine is turning the white crispy snow to mush. I notice that my snow angel has all but disappeared .

“See.” I point to the angel shape where dark grass is poking through. “It’s too late for you to make your snow angel now.”

“What?” Jason says, but he doesn’t look up.

“Oh, nothing.” I keep shoveling.