Chapter 5
Aspen
Dale was more than suitable company. Instead of being annoyed at having a roommate forced on me, I didn’t mind him at all.
Dinner had been great. He’d told me some private things about himself that put me at ease. It proved to me he wasn’t going to be the stiff and controlling alpha sort, or worse, standoffish.
We got back to the cabin pretty late. We’d stayed longer than planned, having cider in the big lobby by the fire. The couches there were the kind where you sink right in and never want to move again.
Still half-drunk as I walked beside him on the well-lit, shining path to our cabin, I had the sudden realization that I’d had fun. I didn’t feel like he was someone I’d been stuck with. It was more as if I’d been shown a pleasant surprise.
I could definitely see myself enjoying the next two weeks. But then again, there was the problem of my upcoming heat.
And we still had the sleeping arrangements to navigate tonight.
But the air was fresh and clear. Bright stars were out, along with a sliver moon. Our cabin greeted us like an ornament dropped in the snow. I couldn’t have asked for a prettier, more peaceful scene.
Before I could reach for mine, Dale had his phone out to unlock our door.
Warm air rushed out. We hurried in, hanging our parkas and scarves and looking about. The fire had gone out.
“I’ll build a new fire,” Dale said. “There’s plenty of wood.”
“Do you want coffee?” I asked. “There’s a coffee maker on the stand beside the bathroom.”
“Sure.”
“Decaf?” It was close to my usual bedtime after all. Although I did not have to get up early, so if I was up late, my body wouldn’t care.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
He knelt by the fire, sweeping out ash and stacking more logs.
I tried not to notice, but in that position his physique stood out.
His sweater hem rode up, showing slim hips.
With a long waist and legs which accounted for his height, I was drawn.
I liked the tall alphas that were slim like that.
They seemed to move with a grace that ignored gravity.
Like they were floating above the ground a little.
I had an older brother like that, and an uncle, and a past boyfriend from college, but that hadn’t ended well after he’d cheated on me.
As Dale sat back, looking for the long matches, I turned to my task. I found ceramic Santa-shaped mugs and got everything ready. It seemed to take me forever due to my own distraction, and perhaps too much cider.
When I brought the coffee over to the couch, Dale had the fire going strong. He was sitting on the couch with his feet up on the table. I handed him a Santa mug.
“Thanks.” He raised his eyebrows at the mug. “Very cute.”
“That’s what they left us by way of mugs.” I set down creamer and sugar.
He took some of both.
“It’s quiet around the place,” Dale observed. “I wonder if everyone finally got matched up.”
“Or left,” I offered.
“That would mean extra rooms. We’d have been notified.”
“True.” I crossed my legs and turned to look at him. “Are you really okay with this setup?”
He sipped his hot coffee. “It’s fine so far.”
“Yeah. I have to admit I’m not suffering. And this place is so beautiful.” I blew on my own coffee. Steam rose up. “Did you have plans for things to do?”
“Yeah.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like everything. And nothing.”
“I was going to veg in front of the TV.”
“And order room service?”
I nodded. “I brought some ebooks to read. And downloaded some games. Plus, movies,” I said.
“Christmas movies?” he asked.
“Some. Does Die Hard count?” I laughed.
He got a very serious look. “Most certainly.”
Amazement rippled through me. Yet one more thing we had in common.
We talked for a while, then Dale turned on the TV to see what channels came with the room. It seemed like hundreds. Management was sparing no amenities right now. They owed us.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew Dale was speaking softly to me.
“Go to bed. I’ll take the couch.”
“Not fair to you,” I mumbled, half-awake.
“It’s completely fair. This couch is perfectly comfortable.”
I sat up and stretched, looking around. This wouldn’t do. The couch was much too short for his tall form. “You’re too tall for this couch.”
“I always sleep on my side. It’s fine.”
“The bed’s a king. We’ll fit and never know the other is there,” I argued.
He shook his head, then picked up his mug and took it to the bathroom sink to wash. I heard the water running. I followed, my own mug in hand.
I stood next to him and ran it under the water of the first sink.
“When the fire dies down, it will get colder. The couch isn’t as warm.” I didn’t know why I was fighting for him to share the bed. Was something wrong with me? And I still had no solid plan for if/when I went into heat.
“The heater works just fine,” he replied.
“I’ll take up less than half the bed. The rest of the space will go to waste.”
He turned to me. I had to look up to meet his gaze. His eyes looked worried.
“Unless you don’t want to share,” I added quickly. I hadn’t thought that maybe he’d be more nervous than I was. He had, after all, picked me out of the crowd to bunk with.
“I don’t want to be the cause of any discomfort.”
I smiled. “So far so good.”
“Are you being truthful?”
The question threw me. “Why would I lie? You’re paying as much for the room as I am. I want to be fair.”
“Thank you.”
He was so polite. That was in his favor, as well, since instinct and my inner reindeer sensed no danger from him at all. He wasn’t some murderer waiting to pounce.
“It’s settled, then.”
He nodded.
We took turns in the bathroom. He came out dressed in red boxer shorts and a short-sleeved white t-shirt, while I had brand new flannel pajamas, red plaid, I’d bought special for this trip.
Silently, we turned out the lights. The still-burning fire made rippling brown shadows on the walls.
“Left or right preference?” Dale asked.
I had to think for a moment. At home, I slept in the middle of my bed. “Left, I guess?”
“Perfect.”
I lifted back the covers at the same time he did. We were already in unison, like we were in synchronous orbit around each other, easy and without any over-thinking.
I moved some of the pillows out of the way.
“You can put those between us,” Dale suggested.
I hadn’t thought about that, but it was a good idea. Accidental touching was not on the menu.
I slid under the covers, propping pillows comfortably at my back. I felt Dale’s weight shift the mattress. It had been a long time since I’d shared a bed, and the memory returned that it had been a rather nice feeling.
The fire made soothing crackle sounds. Dale’s breathing was soft. Our room became a haven, a retreat.
From the peaceful surroundings, I heard my own voice speak a little too loudly. “The snowman building contest sounds fun.”
“Yeah,” came the gentle reply. “I hadn’t planned it because I didn’t want do it by myself.”
“I’ll help if you want.”
“That sounds a great.”
The last thing I remembered before waking the next day was smiling in the dark at his words.