Snow One Like You (4 page)

He made two trips. She’d opened the
box of cookbooks by the time he returned with the glassware. His
mother gifted visitors with the cookbook. Especially those who
loved to cook or bake. The book reflected generations of recipes
from general stores across Vermont. Grandmothers updated
fresh-from-the-farm ingredients with traditional methods of
cooking. There were photos plus a wealth of history and
trivia.

He watched as Allie unpacked a dozen
copies. He admired the curve of her body when she leaned down
toward the box; the feminine flex of her shoulders when she
straightened. Her long hair swept her face, shiny and flowing. A
second later, she sleeked the strands into a ponytail, twisted,
without a band. It always amazed Rhys how her hair stayed in
place.

She went on to bookend the cookbooks
between large tins of homemade bite-size cookie buttons. Next came
the glassware. Allie’s face softened as she carefully unwrapped
each piece. “I made a trip to the Vermont Glassblowing Factory,”
she told him. “I selected hand-blown evergreens and snowflakes.
They are beautiful.” She held up one of each for him to
see.

He nodded his appreciation. “Good
taste. Excellent choices.” He knew little to nothing about the
glass. Other than each item sparked with a life of its own. A hint
of green tinted the trees. The snowflakes were clear,
crystalline.

“
The glassware isn’t solely
for Christmas,” she said. “The pieces are decorative
year-round.”

Rhys admired the hand-blown champagne
flutes. New Year’s Eve. Dom Pérignon Vintage. He didn’t have a date
to toast. Not yet anyway.

“
Next box?” he
asked.

She bit down on her bottom lip,
decided, “Fragrances. There will still be holiday parties through
the first of the year. Scent is all part of dressing
up.”

“
My grandmother wore Bed of
Roses.” He scrunched his nose. “A little overpowering. I knew
exactly where she was or had been at any given moment.”

“
Sometimes a spritz goes a
long way.”

“
You always smell nice,” he
said without thinking.

“
Romance
,” she gave him the name. “The
scent of poetry, linen sheets, and soft breezes. Or so the
fragrance claims.”

Linen sheets appealed to him. Soft
fabric twisted around naked bodies. He exhaled sharply, and walked
away while he still could. Before his erection stood at attention.
Again.

The overhead lights blinked while he
was in the storeroom. Twice. Recovered. He located the box she’d
requested. Returned. He removed the masking tape, flipped back the
flaps. “Shelf or glass table?” he asked her.

“
Table. No straight lines.
Stagger the bottles. Be creative.”

Creative, huh? There were only six
bottles, and he decided to test each one.

“
Do so lightly,” Allie
warned, with his first spray.

He kept at it. Alone, the
lavender of
Promise Her Anything
smelled delicate and womanly. Adding the
sandalwood of
Hollywood Legend
cleared his sinuses. The clove of
Regal
, along with the
iris oils, tweed talc, and sharp lemon in the remaining three,
created a strong, unpleasant odor. One that made him sneeze. Then
cough. His eyes watered. “My creativity stinks.”

Allie glanced his way. She fanned her
face. “Retail is not your calling. They’re not supposed to be worn
together. There’s pine air freshener under the kitchen sink,” she
said. “You can finish the display later.” She sneezed herself.
“Much later.”

He located the freshener, sprayed the
mixed fragrances out of the air. Forest remained. Outdoorsy. A bit
strong, but far better.

She laughed at him then. “You’ve never
worked a fragrance counter, have you?”

“
Can’t say that I
have.”

“
I did, in college.
Janice Jayne’s Boutique
.
Part-time. The skin absorbs oils. Showers didn’t help. I was a
scented-advertisement for all women. The sexy, athletic, shy,
dreamer, smart, sassy, homemaker and career-minded.”

“
I liked you best when you
worked at
Benji’s Burgers
during high school. You smelled like French
fries.”

“
Grease stuck with me,
too.”

“
Nothing was worse than
when I mucked stalls for Randall Kane’s sleigh horses. I did the
Road Apple Two-step all summer. My boots were never
clean.”

She grinned at him. “We’ve had some
crazy jobs.”

“
That we have.” He liked
her smile. Honest. Happy. Sincere. There wasn’t a phony bone in her
body.

He winked. Slow. Effortlessly. He
valued their friendship. Steadfast and long-standing. They’d taken
care of each other. Always. One kiss had changed everything. For
the better, he hoped. Only a second would tell where they stood.
Physically and emotionally.

“
Next trip?” he asked,
returning to the storeroom.

“
Box marked
hats.”

He tucked the long, rectangular box
under his arm on his way back. He cracked it open. Looked inside.
Found an accumulation of styles. “Where do you want
them?”

She pursed her lips. Thoughtful.
“Santa and elf hats and reindeer antler headbands go in the sale
bin near the front door. Spread out the New Year’s Eve items. Lots
of glitz.”

He got sidetracked, and played a
little. A Santa hat went on his head, and he took Allie a pair of
reindeer antlers. Gently placing them on her. They looked at each
other and laughed. The first real laughter between them in two
weeks. It felt good. This happy connection. Relaxed and
fun-loving.

“
You look silly,” she told
him.

“
You need a red nose with
those antlers.”

“
Rudolph. My
hero.”

“
He’ll need GPS to locate
Snowbound in this blizzard.” Howling rose beyond the window pane.
“That wind is wicked.”

Rhys went back to the box he was
unpacking. Black satin top hats, gold crowns, and sparkling tiaras
soon decorated the store. “Your plans for New Year’s?” he tossed
over his shoulder.

“
There’s a reception at the
mayor’s house, but it’s early in the evening. After that-” she
shrugged. “Not certain. How about you?”

How about you and
me
, he wanted to say, but held back. For
the moment, anyway. “My parents are throwing a party. The lodge is
booked solid. Buffet, music, sparklers for the guests.”

She nodded, her expression reflective.
“Another year, come and gone.”

“
One week to go. We’d
better make the most of it.”

“
Last box, Rhys,” she
finalized. “Find one labeled men’s flannel night shirts, pajamas,
and robes. With Shearling slippers.”

Sleepwear. He’d have something for
tonight. Circumventing the mistletoe, he headed for the storeroom.
The box was big and bulky. He decided to push it down the hallway.
Two steps, and the electricity surged, then darkened. They’d lost
power. Hurricane lamps burned in the main room. It was black as
pitch in the back. “Allie?” he called to her, feeling his way as he
maneuvered around the stacks of boxes.

He heard her before he saw her. The
scuff of her low boots on the hardwood floor. She arrived,
flashlight in hand. The brightness brought him to her, now standing
in the doorway. She looked pale, he thought. And a little afraid.
“I’m glad you’re here.”

He was, too. He’d always felt
protective of Allie, from her first skinned knee to teaching her to
ski. He draped his arm about her shoulders now, led her down the
hall. She shivered, and he turned her to face him. Assured her.
“We’ll be fine. We’ve endured blizzards. Remember Ralph Slocomb’s
Super Bowl bash last winter?”

She nodded. “It began to snow, and, by
half-time, football became a blizzard party.”

“
We have everything we need
right here. Food, fireplace, blankets. There’s a snow blower in the
barn. We can clear a path once it stops snowing. I’ll keep you
safe. No worries.”

“
I’m not worried about the
weather.”

“
What then?”

She lifted her gaze, and focused the
Maglite on the low-hanging beam.

They once again stood under the
mistletoe. An opportunity awarded him.

He needed to back up. To move away
from her.

Instead the memory of their previous
kiss pushed him toward her. Had it been as good as he remembered?
Or was he fooling himself. Time to find out.

He kissed her.

She kissed him back. He took his time
with her. They had nowhere to go, nothing further to do. The
displays could wait. It was them and the flickering lamplight.
Their childhood grew up. They became consenting adults.

Their shadows on the wall reflected
their every move. He spread his legs, and she settled between them.
His arms loosely wrapped her waist. She raised her arms to circle
his neck, and light blinded him. She knocked him in the cheek with
something hard. She still clutched the Maglite. Allie was accident
prone. This time she’d nailed him. He removed the flashlight from
her hand. Shut it off. Set it on a nearby shelf. Rubbed his
face.

“
So sorry,” she sounded
embarrassed.

He managed a half-hearted grin.
“Better my cheek than my eye.”

She brushed her thumb where she’d
bumped him. A tender stroking of her fingertips. Soft. Warm.
Apologetic. “Better?” she asked.

“
Much. I’ll
live.”

“
Mood killer?”

“
Give me a
minute.”

“
Ice, maybe?”

“
I don’t bruise easily.” He
looked down on her, asked before he acted, “More importantly, where
do we stand? Are you good with us?”

“
Us…as friends?”

“
Us…as lovers.”

Expectancy. Her eyes were
heavy-lidded. “Is that where we’re headed?”

Almost certainty. “If you’re willing
to go.”

She was realistic. “We can’t go back
once we’ve seen each other naked.”

“
I’ve already seen you
nude.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ridge Lake
doesn’t count. A group of girls were skinny dipping. You only saw
me from the back.”

“
You have a great
butt.”

“
I was fifteen. My body was
thinner, tighter, than it is now.”

He leaned in, looked her full-on.
“Everything I see, I like.”

“
I’m wearing two layers of
clothes.”

“
So am I.”

“
You’re bulked up. I’ve
spread out.” She was body conscious. A bit insecure.

“
I see you as sexy.
Perfect.” He slid his hand about her neck. His thumb crept over her
chin, catching the corner of her mouth. Sweet enticement. “I’ve
wondered about us lately. How we’d be together. Ever since you fell
off the ladder.” Her slow slide down his body undid him.

“
Me, too,” she admitted.
“I’ve been…curious.”

Curiosity was foreplay. Or so he
believed. Imagination hyped fantasy.

“
And cautious,” she
added.

Something in her voice gave him pause.
“What, Allie?”

Air caught in her throat. “What if
we’re not good together?”

“
What if we’re great?” He
couldn’t imagine less.

“
We’re taking a big chance.
We could lose each other.”

“
Or find each
other.”

“
You’re countering my every
word for your benefit.”

Yes, he was. “Am I
convincing?”

“
Close. Very
close.”

Close was good. A connection, even
better.

“
I’d like to sleep on it.
Alone.”

He accepted her request. They’d only
recently recognized each other physically. There was no hurry. They
were snowed in, and not going anywhere. “Pajama bottoms.” He slept
nude, but not tonight. “I’ll grab a pair from the
storeroom.”

“
The Black Watch Plaid is
my bestseller.” She retrieved the Maglite. Laid it on his palm.
“Here you go.”

“
Is this
good-night?”

“
After I light the
fireplace.” She stretched her arms over her head. Yawned. “Nothing
wrong with turning in early.”

It was eight-fifteen. He’d be doing
push-ups and sit-ups until his body quit. Then count sheep. He
waited while she lit the fireplace. Heat surged, circulated
throughout. A staircase led to the loft. Allie’s bedroom was
beneath. She ducked inside. Shutting the door. Closing him
out.

She was wary of him. Sexually
reluctant. He hated that fact. He leaned his forehead against the
jamb, exhaled. Came to a decision. “Sex isn’t what we’re about,” he
said loud enough for her to hear. “We’re friends, Allie. No matter
what.” He meant it.

CH
APTER TWO