Witching You Weren’t Snowed In (Witching You #2)

Chapter 13

Leo

“You look tired,” Valerie said, glancing up from her spreadsheet. She clicked to close the document and sat on the edge of my desk with her arms folded.

“I slept on the sofa in the staff breakroom,” I said, rolling my neck to relieve the tension. It felt like there was a vice around my shoulders and nothing eased it.

“That was three days ago.”

Right. Three days. And I’ve hardly slept since. I could blame it on the resort being busier than ever, but really, it was that freaking mattress.

No, the memory foam density was fine. It was the fact Sage had slept on it, and now the whole bed smelled like her. Even after washing the sheets, so it was definitely psychological. Candy cane sugar mixed with the lingering scent of sugared berries. A fatal combination. I was a goner. Might as well switch rooms because there were no other options.

“Have you tried asking Sage out on a date?” Valerie asked, bluntly .

“What? No. I can’t do that.” I scrubbed a hand over my jaw and corrected myself. “I mean, why would I do that? We’re just friends…kind of.”

“Wow!” Valerie dropped her head into her hand and rubbed the spot above her eyebrow. “As your festive minion, I’m disappointed with your lack of self-awareness, not to mention your level of defeat.” She pushed off the desk and jabbed her finger in my face. “Where is the man willing to put on a mortifying elf costume? What happened to the quest for Cold Spell domination through a cleverly disguised blackmail plot, leading to your second shot at romance? Have I taught you nothing?”

Her words landed like a snowball to the back of the head. “Second shot at romance? Have you been paying attention? My ex-friends terrorized her on my mountain. She was almost injured in a very small—yet not insignificant avalanche. And that’s not even getting into the fact she hates me for what I did to her all those years ago. It’s not a lack of self-awareness. Trust me. I’m extremely aware I have no chance of fixing this.”

Valerie huffed and sank back down on the edge of the desk. Her fingers tapped out a rhythm on the wooden surface. “Okay. I see your point. This is a tricky situation, and it requires deep thought.” She chewed on the corner of her mouth for a minute, then snapped her fingers. “I know. We need to act like ninjas and sneak attack. Are you familiar with the use of a grappling hook?”

I groaned. With Valerie in charge, I was going to die alone in a botched rappelling accident .

“Absolutely not. Will you stop devising weird plans where I have to think like a villain or act like a ninja? Where do you come up with this stuff?”

Valerie shrugged. “It’s in the handbook.”

“What handbook?”

“That’s not important.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, counted to three, then planted my fists on the desk. “How about, I do something normal like take her somewhere quiet where the two of us can talk?”

Valerie picked at her cuticle and sniffed. “It’s not as cinematic, but it has an appeal. Okay!” She rallied, clapping her hands like she was breaking a huddle. “I'll lure Sage to the lodge and you trigger your mundane talking idea. May I suggest snacks? Maybe a bottle of red?”

“No. I'll handle the details. You finish up the plans for our last fundraiser. We still have a sizable amount of money to raise. I want to see Sage's face when we cross the threshold. It'll mean a lot to her.”

“Got it. I'll handle the fundraiser.” Valerie collected the notebook Sage had left behind. “You don't have to worry about a thing. Your talking plan is solid. No one ever fell asleep while someone was talking.”

“Valerie,” I warned.

She held up her hands. “The truth shall set you free. But if it doesn't, and it blows up in your face like an inflatable lawn Santa, maybe improvise a little.” Valerie wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Sometimes a guy just needs to take action.”

***

The ski lift shuddered to life, grinding its gears as the chairs began a slow climb up the mountain.

Morning sunlight bounced off the snow, and the frigid air was sharp in my lungs. I stood behind Sage, arms tense to catch her if she spun around and charged back to the lodge.

“There is no way you're getting me back on that thing.” Sage eyed the lift like it was the Abominable Snowman. She folded her arms and dug in her heels. “Keep dreaming, Grayson.”

“Come on, Bennett. I already promised we weren’t going to ski. You’re wearing regular boots.” Placing my palms on her shoulders, I nudged her toward the lift. “This is strictly a scenic outing. Where is your adventurous spirit?”

“My spirit was almost exorcised by a sweeping avalanche. I’m still having nightmares. I may never sleep again.”

“Me either,” I muttered as a burst of wind carried with it the scent of mint and berries. She walked a few steps closer to the lift, and I squeezed her shoulders. “It’ll be fine. You can’t run away from the mountain just because you had a bad fall.”

Sage scoffed as she allowed me to guide her onto a moving chair. “Don’t use your ski nerd wisdom on me. I’m in your rickety excuse for an escalator, aren’t I? People are not meant to dangle over the treetops by a wire. If I die, put that on my tombstone. Tell the world my story. ”

The chair lifted off the ground, and she yelped. I buried a smile and lowered the safety bar.

We climbed the first few minutes in silence, Sage holding onto the side of the lift with a death grip. Every time the chair bounced, her features grew paler. I leaned forward to adjust my position.

“Don’t move!” Sage’s fingers dug into my knee.

“You’re safe, Bennett,” I said, covering her hand with mine. “Nothing bad will happen. Trust me. Now, come here.” I raised my arm along the back of the chair, opening a space in the crook of my shoulder.

She seemed to calculate my offer, the wind speed, and whether the slightest movement might send us crashing to the ground. Finally, she nodded and inched into my side. Her muscles relaxed one by one as I draped my arm around her. A tiny sigh escaped her lips, and I tightened my hold, the air thinning in my chest. The best plan of my life had my emotions frayed and ready to snap.

“Better?” I asked, my chin resting near the top of her head. Wisps of her hair tickled my nose.

“Ask me again when I’m on the ground.” She snuggled closer, tucking her gloved hands against my chest. “What’s in the bag?”

“A surprise.”

“You’re very vague and mysterious. Being a villain has changed you.”

I smiled into her hair. “Nah. I’m still the same.” My voice dipped, filling with rust. “Some things haven’t changed at all. ”

“That’s what scares me,” she whispered so quietly I wasn’t sure she meant for me to hear.

The lift rumbled to the top of the slope and I waved to the lift attendant as we disembarked.

“We’re going down the same way, right?” Sage asked, craning her neck toward the chairs revolving back down the mountain.

“Oh, now you want to ride the lift,” I teased. I snaked an arm around her middle and led her away from the main group of ski trails.

“Only because it’s efficient. Not because it was enjoyable.”

Her eyes glinted with humor. At least her fear was gone. I’d have to settle for lukewarm compliments until I could get the real thing. We walked a little further, detouring through a lightly wooded area. The snow crunched under our boots, untouched by others. It was quiet. Peaceful. No interruptions.

“Where are you taking me? Seriously, if you pull out a blindfold, I’m not taking another step.” Sage balled her fists on her hips as I bent to pull back a giant fir branch.

“Then you’ll miss the view.”

I heard her sharp inhale as the landscape came into focus. Giant snow-capped peaks shimmered in the distance. The sky was a crisp blue, and a heavy fog blanketed the lower slopes, revealing the tips of pine trees. It was a view you could stare at for hours. Never changing. Always steadfast.

No matter how far away you run, it would still be here waiting to welcome you back .

“There’s not even a cloud in the sky,” Sage murmured, tilting her head to allow the sunlight to catch her face.

“Come with me. I want to show you something else.” I guided Sage toward an enclosed outlook nearly hidden by the trees. The building was narrow, consisting of a platform behind a wall of giant windows. It was neglected with a few holes in the roof and had no electricity, but it was built on a sturdy foundation.

The door creaked open as we entered, and Sage wandered toward the expanse of windows. I removed a key from the zippered pocket in my bag and unlocked a closet containing an emergency kit, blankets, and a battery-powered heater.

Dragging out the blankets and the heater, I turned the battery on and placed it on the floor. “We won’t have beach weather with this thing, but it will take the chill off.”

“Darn. So much for the bikini I have on under this winter gear.” Sage removed her gloves and sat cross-legged while I handed her a thermos.

“Suddenly, I regret not taking you to the Polar Bear Plunge.”

She laughed softly and unscrewed the cap on the thermos. Her eyes drifted to half-mast as she breathed in the steam. “Peppermint hot chocolate. An underrated flavor, but it's my favorite.”

“Don’t forget this.” I handed her a candy cane from my bag. She twisted off the plastic and dunked it into the thermos, giving the drink a quick stir.

The room continued to warm as I joined her on the floor. We removed our thick jackets, settling in to enjoy our drinks and a rare stillness.

“So what is all this, Leo?” She waved a hand around the room. But there was a note in her voice, making me think she was asking about something deeper.

“This is phase two of the renovation. It needs a lot of work, and an addition, and extensive electrical work. But I think this place could make a great ski-in cafe. What do you think?”

“It has a beautiful view, and people will love it. I think it’s a great idea. How long have you known about this place?”

“A long time. I used to come up here by myself when I first came on as a ski instructor. I had to sneak in because it was off-limits, but I needed a place to escape all the noise. My father was tough—well, you know—and his expectations and control forced me to find a spot where I could be away from it all. This mountain became that place for me.”

“How come you never told me? We used to meet up after every lesson, usually until the lifts closed. You never said anything.”

“Because after I met you, I didn’t need to come up here anymore.”

“Leo…” She dropped her gaze, staring at her marshmallows. “I miss those days, too.”

Now. Tell her the truth now .

“Sage, I—”

But she lifted her head before I could finish, a burden weighing behind her eyes. “Leo, can I tell you something I haven’t told anyone else?”

“Of course.”

“This is so humiliating. You already know I never won the agency award. But the truth is, they put me on a forced sabbatical too. I was messing up at work, stressed out, and not feeling like myself. I haven’t felt like myself in a long time. And that’s when the snow started.”

“What do you mean?”

“My family has this strange curse. It causes weather-related incidents whenever we’re dealing with something troubling or our life isn’t going the way we planned. My curse manifests snow. The agency thinks I’m a liability, so they reassigned my cases and sent me home. I can’t stop the storms, and I can’t figure out what’s causing them. Coming back here was supposed to fix it, but it only seems to be making things worse. I don't know what to do, and I'm scared that if I can't stop the snow, I'll lose everything.”

My stomach sank. This was because of me—and maybe that was arrogant to think—but I’d forced my way back into Sage’s life because it was what I needed. What I wanted. I should have been helping her, not the other way around.

Valerie’s words echoed in my mind. The truth will set you free… But I’d already ruined things between us once. Telling her the truth about what happened back then would only add to her worries. It was selfish— and I wanted to be selfish. More than I wanted to win over the town. More than I wanted to save the resort.

I wanted Sage.

But not if it hurt her. Not if it made me more like my father.

Sage shook her head. “So I’m stuck here until I figure it out. But I’m glad you showed me this place. It hasn’t snowed once today. Maybe this is what I needed.”

Or maybe I almost ruined your chance to break the curse by telling you the truth.

The radio crackled in my bag. Valerie’s muffled voice came over the line.

“You should answer that. There might be an emergency back at the lodge.” Sage pointed to my bag with her candy cane as Valerie spoke again.

Pulling out the radio, I pressed the talk button. “This is Leo. What’s going on? Over.”

“You won’t believe what happened. Over.”

I glanced at Sage, listening from her spot on the floor. “Valerie, now is not a good time. Over.”

“But I have news. You said you wanted to know when we raised enough money. We just got an anonymous donation for the rest of the project. We’re fully funded! Let Sage know. Over and out.”

The radio went quiet in my hand, and I stared at it, stunned. Who would donate such a large sum of money? And why do it anonymously?

“Leo, is what Valerie said true? We’re fully funded? ”

The floorboards creaked as Sage came up behind me. I put the radio back in my bag, and when I faced her, I only had a second to think before she slipped into my arms. A wide smile spread across her lips as she tilted her head to look at me.

“I can’t believe we did it! Leo, this is incredible.”

Her fingers tangled in my shirt. Her heart beating against mine.

“This only happened because of you,” I said, my resolve slipping enough to make me pull her closer. Let my fingers press into her back. I allowed myself to be selfish for a moment, hoping it would last for a lifetime.

But her eyes softened, melting into something that made my chest tighten. Time stalled, then sped up double time as she wet her lips, her teeth scraping the delicate skin. Sage lifted on her toes, inching closer. It was the longest wait of my life for the thing I wanted most.

I didn’t pull away because I knew I’d regret it one way or another. Regret that I’d never had the chance to kiss her or regret that it only happened once. Was there a lesser evil?

She pressed her lips softly to mine.

Just one kiss. Only a villain would take more.

But as she opened up to me, filling my senses, and making me desperate, I realized she was wrong about one thing. There was no gray area between a villain and a mega-villain. There was a hard line. And my hands cupped her face, pushing her back against the windows as I crossed it.