Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Emily
I managed to avoid Kristoffer the rest of the day by working in my room but when I went to meet everyone at the horse-drawn sleighs, only one sleigh was left with an open spot for me. And it was the one he was occupying.
Everyone was coupled up, bundled under blankets, cups of cider or hot chocolate in their mittened hands.
Puffy clouds of breath billowed up along with the steam from their cups.
My eyes followed the path of sleighs until it landed on the last one, drawn by a beautiful appaloosa horse, where Kristoffer sat.
Gulp. And he was wearing a Santa hat, rather than toques like everyone else.
He waved me over, and with no other choice, I tossed my scarf over my shoulder and went to join him. I could do this. It wasn’t as if my Santa fantasy controlled me, right? I wasn’t going to burst into a puddle and jump his bones…
I swallowed. Right?
“Where’s Hilary? Will she be joining us?” I asked as he moved the beautiful faux-fur sable blanket aside for me to get in. Sliding into the sleigh next to Kristoffer, I looked at the other sleighs for the only other person that didn’t have a plus one besides Kristoffer and me.
Kristoffer pointed to the sleigh ahead of ours where Hilary was tucked against her partner looking cozy. “Her date arrived.”
“Oh.”
“It’s just you and me now, Little Red.”
“How’d we get a sleigh all to ourselves?” Besides the bride and groom, whose sled only accommodated two, the rest of the sleighs held four. Our sleigh could accommodate another couple but there weren’t any left but us.
I glanced at the front of the line. My brother and Charlotte were in the first sleigh, currently twisted at the waist looking back at all of us.
I waved and they both waved back. They were too far ahead for me to see their expressions, but I noticed they put their heads together afterward. My gut twisted.
In the second sleigh, my sister and Blake sat in the backward-facing seat which meant they were facing us.
But they weren’t bothering to look at anyone, not the couple across from them, and definitely not us.
Even after twenty-four years and two kids, three if you counted the time they’d spent raising me, they only had eyes for each other.
“So, how are your knees?” Kristoffer asked, pulling my attention back to him. “Will you be able to come skiing with us tomorrow?” Kristoffer handed me a cup of something steamy and spicy.
I looked down at the cup and breathed in deeply. “What is this? It smells amazing.”
“Apple cider mixed with green tea, honey, orange rind, and cinnamon.”
“Ohh.” I went to take a sip.
“Careful, Little Red, it’s hot.”
I stopped and breathed in the aroma instead. “Mm, smells amazing.” I looked at the cup in his hands. “Are you drinking the same?”
“No, this is Norwegian gl?gg.” His mouth pulled up on one side. “I have a carafe of it, if you’d like that instead. You’re welcome to it.”
“What’s in it?”
He took the lid off his cup and showed me the dark liquid. A deep spicy aroma filled my nose.
“It’s a warm mulled wine with spices. The chef prepares it every year at Christmas. A way to celebrate my heritage.”
I breathed in the rich aroma again, smelling notes of citrus, cinnamon, clove, and maybe cardamom.
“It smells lovely.”
“The chef prepared yours too. I asked him to make something tea-like and Christmasy for you in case you didn’t want the alcohol. There’s a whole carafe of that too.” He moved the blanket to show me the two carafes sitting on a little wooden box between our feet.
“You didn’t have to have something special made for me. But thank you.” I carefully sipped my tea, smiling. “It’s delicious.” I blew on it. “Now what did you ask me again?”
“Skiing? Are your knees up to it?”
“Oh, right. Why? Are you worried I’m going to break my neck after my daring display of athleticism today?” I chewed the inside of my cheek and then quickly took another sip of the tea to hide my mildly concerned expression.
He winked at me, another smirk tightening the one side of his mouth. “Maybe.”
“Well, you can stop worrying,” I said with a confidence I didn’t feel.
“I’m a much better skier than I am skater.
” It was technically true. I cross-country skied whenever I got the chance and it was like riding a bike.
My downhill skiing, however, wasn’t all that great, but it was a lot better than my abysmal skating.
His brow lifted as if he wasn’t sure he believed me, and I narrowed my eyes in retaliation.
“I’m no black diamond enthusiast, hell, I’m not even black diamond confident, but I enjoy a blue run as much as the next intermediate skier.
” And I did, at least the one time I did the run and didn’t fall, but that was ten years ago.
I’d feel a hell of a lot better sticking to the green beginner runs now, but I wasn’t telling him that. I’d embarrassed myself enough today.
And it wasn’t that I was trying to impress him, it was just that he owned a ski resort, and well… well what? I wasn’t not dating him. I wasn’t even interested in dating him. What did it matter then, admitting skiing wasn’t in my wheelhouse?
Ugh, because he’s hot and sexy and just because my brain knew I shouldn’t date him didn’t mean the rest of me didn’t want to.
But he wouldn’t be sibling approved. Not only because of the age difference, but also because if I started something with my brother’s boss and something went wrong, it would be a disaster.
And then there was the other thing… A guy that played Santa Daddy in a dirty dance show for horny women, wasn’t the kind of guy you settled down with and took home to the family.
And he probably wasn’t the kind of guy that wanted to settle down anyway.
He’d made it clear we were just a fling, even if he did throw in the and what if I want more joke.
Nope, all this could be was a hot, fun, short-lived fling, because I needed to get serious.
I was looking for something more. Something real.
I was looking for a man I could work toward having a family with.
“You have a strange look on your face, Little Red. It looks like panic. Are you sure you’re not lying to Daddy?”
“Pff, listen, Santa Daddy…” I was going to put this guy in his place… Who was he to question me?
“Yes, Little Red?” His right brow arched, and those eyes bounced between mine as if he were reading me. Heat instantly flooded my bloodstream and my heart flipped.
“May I have some of your Gl?gg?”
Chicken.
The little town was lit up. There were fairy lights in soft white everywhere; on storefronts and pubs, strung over the road from one side of the shops to the other, in the trees and around the bushes.
And even wrapped around the old-fashioned lamps that lined the road and the wrought-iron fences that enclosed the restaurants and bar patios.
“It’s beautiful,” I exclaimed, as the gentle clomping of horse hooves and the hush of the sleigh rails swished through the snow. Fat fluffy snowflakes began to fall and as we started down Main Street, the sounds of music floated in the air. Not just music, but people singing.
“Where are we going first, Emily?” Kristoffer asked, drawing my attention from the large group of people outside of a restaurant bar patio singing along with Bruce Springsteen’s Santa Claus is Coming to Town.
“They look like they’re having fun,” I said, pointing at the cheery group, holding up old- fashioned beer steins as they sung around fire tables. “Is that steaming-hot beer?” I asked, scrunching my nose as a man ladled something steaming into the mugs.
Kristoffer chuckled. “No, it’s German Glüwein, also a spiced mulled wine. Translated it means glow wine.”
“Ohh. I’m going to have to try that one too, even though I’m already glowing from this one.” I raised my cup of Norwegian Gl?gg.”
“Better take it easy or you’ll be skiing with a hangover.”
“Yes, Nissen.”
“How’d you know that’s what we call Santa Claus in Norway?”
I held up my phone. “I checked right after you told me about the Gl?gg.”
“That’s both sneaky and sweet, Little Red.
And I can’t help but like you even more now.
” He took my hand in his and held it as we rode through town.
“I grew up here, but my parents grew up in Troms?, Norway. My mom came to Canada with her parents when she was a teenager. My father came later when he was old enough to follow her. My Christmas packages growing up always came from Nissen. How about you? What was it like for you? If you want to talk about it…” His eyes softened.
I told him a bit about our family Christmases before my parents died, and how they changed after and then thankfully the sleigh came to a stop along with my tragic story.
When everyone got out of the sleighs and started to explore, most of the couples did what couples do best and went off on their own.
Kristoffer stuck to my side though, holding my hand in his in his pocket the whole time.
Well, except when we bumped into any of the others.
Then I quickly yanked my hand back and tucked it into my own pocket.
Kristoffer walked me through the town, showing me all his favorite places and we mapped out our attack on the festival, starting with the German pub.
There, I tried a different variation of mulled wine, and we ate a small plate of delicious roast goose with dumplings and a sweet and tangy dish of red cabbage.