Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
NICK
Winter slams the door of her SUV, but she’s still giving me a mouthful even though I can’t hear what she’s saying. Her brow furrows over her bright blue eyes, and her button nose scrunches. She’s probably cussing me seven ways from Sunday. If she’s angry that I’m clearing her driveway, I can only imagine how pissed she’ll be once she finds out I bought the firm that manages her property.
Did I have an ulterior motive in my purchase? Maybe. But there definitely was no ill intention behind the decision.
Winter Snow is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Growing up together in the small town of Whispering Peaks, North Carolina, I never knew how to approach her. Even as a scrawny little kid with too much energy, I knew then she was out of my league. She never really noticed me until I realized the only way to get her attention was to take it. I taunted and teased her, and it didn’t take long before she knew exactly who I was. Negative attention was still attention. Before long, she toughened up, and then the game was on. She thought she was turning the tables, teasing me before I could get to her, but that just meant I was under her skin and on her mind as she tried to stay two steps ahead of our games.
In sixth grade, I was disappointed that I didn’t draw her name in the class Christmas exchange. I just knew if I could melt her heart and make her really see me, then at least maybe we could be friends. Maybe she’d want to be my girlfriend once she got to know the real me. Not the pest who teased her relentlessly.
This would be my moment to show her that I liked her, that the teasing was a childish attempt to get her attention. I cleaned my older brother’s bedroom and did his chores for two weeks to save up enough money to buy her the perfect gift. It felt like I’d spent an hour in the general store searching when suddenly something brown and shimmery caught my eye. The gingerbread man ornament had piped frosting trim, teardrop eyes, and pink cheeks. Something about the ornament just seemed right.
My momma was so excited that I was smitten for a pretty little girl like Winter. She taught me how to wrap the small gift box in wrapping paper covered in tiny snowflakes, and then I topped it with a red bow.
It was the last day of school before Christmas break, and the class had just exchanged gifts. I worked up the courage to give Winter the gift. She was sitting at her desk eating a cupcake as I approached. I remember that moment just like it was yesterday.
“Merry Christmas, Winter. I-I bought you a g-gift.” She looks up at me, confused.
“W-what?”
I hand her the gift and say, “I thought of you the moment I saw it and wanted you to have it.”
She stares at the box offensively, as if it’s full of bugs or something, then she slowly peels the paper away. Her eyes light up, and she tries to bite back a smile as she rolls her lip between her teeth. She picks up the ornament and turns it in her hand as she takes in all the fine details. Suddenly she frowns and grips the ornament tighter as tears well in her eyes. My heart pounds in my chest at rapid speed as my throat tightens. What did I do wrong now?
“I don’t want this,” she scoffs. She glares up at me angrily. She stands and shoves the ornament against my chest as she fights back tears.
“W-Winter…”
“I can’t stand you, Nick. You’re such a jerk.” She shoves me backward, and in the shock of the moment the ornament falls from my hand and crashes to the ground. She pushes past me, but I don’t look over my shoulder to see where she’s going. My shoulders fall, and my cheeks feel hot with embarrassment. I don’t know why she got so mad at me. This gift was my peace offering. I didn’t mean to upset her.
I bend down and pick up the gingerbread man and his broken leg. I carefully place the two pieces in the box and leave it on her desk. I can’t bear to look at it again.
I didn’t see Winter again until we came back to school from Christmas break. The teacher had rearranged the room, so Winter’s desk was in front of mine. I was so nervous to say anything to her, afraid she’d bite my head off.
I couldn’t focus on the lesson Ms. Edmiston was teaching because I was thinking of ways to get Winter’s attention.
Winter brushed her long hair off her shoulder, and the scent of strawberries wafted around me. She always smelled so sweet. A thick curl laid upon the edge of my desk, and I wanted so badly to see just how soft it would feel between my fingers. I reached up and slid my fingers through the soft strand, then I tugged it quickly. Winter yelped and grabbed her hair, turning around to glare at me.
“Why did you do that?”
“Your hair was on my desk.” I shrug.
“You didn’t have to pull my hair, though. That hurt.”
“That hurt.” It falls off my tongue without giving it thought, and I wish I could take it back as soon as I say it. The push and pull is natural between us now.
“Eat dirt and die, jerk,” she scoffs, then she turns her back to me.
From that moment forward, I made her life a living hell. Each day, she’d brush her hair over her shoulder, and it would fall across my desk, and each time, I’d torment her worse than the last. I’d tug it, tie knots in it, and once I even tangled bubble gum in it.
Winter’s dad had to take her to the hair salon to have the gum cut out of her hair, and he even called my dad to discuss my behavior. My parents grounded me for a week and told me I had to pay for Winter’s haircut, and I did so begrudgingly. My parents gave me the ten dollars and made me do chores to work it off. I had my brother exchange the cash for coins and put the money in a small sack. When she dumped the change out on her desk that day, crickets leapt about, climbing up her arms, chest, and one landed right on her nose. She jumped from her seat and screeched, flailing her arms wildly as if she was under attack. I laughed so hard I nearly fell out of my seat too. The visit to the principal’s office and in school suspension was totally worth her reaction.
As the years passed by, and we both matured, the teasing faded away. I attempted to be friendly, holding doors, offering to carry her books for her, only to be met with disdain. I even asked her to our sophomore homecoming dance in front of the entire school during morning assembly. That plan backfired on me when she shot me down. It was well-deserved payback, though embarrassing, nonetheless.
That was my last ditch effort of repairing things between us. I’d let Winter Snow slip through my grasp, and I’d never get the chance to be with my crush.
Until Mr. Hatfield approached me about buying his property management firm. He was planning to retire, and I’d proven myself as a trustworthy associate, managing the maintenance for all his clients.
Winter’s family owned a cabin in the mountains of Whispering Peaks, and though I’d only seen a glimpse of her in town on rare occasion over the years, I knew she spent every Christmas here.
I couldn’t sign on the dotted line fast enough to become the new owner of Whispering Peaks Property Management. We sent notices to our clients to let them know the firm had exchanged hands. I expected to receive a scathing phone call from Winter, but it never came. Maybe she was so busy with her life in the city that she overlooked the notice.
I double checked our reservation calendar every day for two weeks to make sure there were no changes in her reservation at the cabin. When we didn’t hear anything from her, I knew then she would be home for Christmas.
So I did the only thing I could think of.
I made sure she’d need maintenance once she arrived.
I never imagined I’d see her walking along the desolate road in the frigid cold, a damsel in distress with a flat tire. She was reluctant to accept my help, but I refused to take no for an answer.
But that call never came last night.
The snowfall accumulated at least three inches, so I decided shoveling her driveway would be a kind gesture to further break the ice between us.
When she didn’t mention that the water wasn’t working at her cabin, I knew then she didn’t know I was now her new property manager.
I’d catch her wrath soon enough, but it would be worth it.
It was my Christmas wish to melt Winter’s icy heart, to warm her up and make her putty in my rough, calloused hands. And I’d do whatever it took to make her mine.