Chapter 8
Dale
The cold was bitter. I knew Aspen’s reindeer could handle it, but I still worried, especially knowing Aspen was taking all his clothes off outside before shifting.
While he was gone, I went inside and got the blanket, leaving it for him by his pile of clothes. It was the only thing I could think to do to give him some sort of warmth when he returned. Pants and a sweater weren’t enough.
I thought about how fond I’d grown of him in such a short time.
Maybe it was merely alpha/omega vibes. But if that were the case, I’d feel this way about any omega who crossed my path at work and in my life in general.
It wasn’t so. I rarely had the deeper need to fulfill alpha yearnings, such as making sure comfort came first. My relationships had been mostly physical hookups which I could count on one hand.
I liked being a bachelor, not committed to anyone.
Aspen was bringing out forces in me I thought I’d buried.
What was going on with me?
Nothing, I told myself. It was the close proximity, that was all. And the fact that Aspen was a great guy. Nothing more.
I’d picked him from the lobby at random. On instinct. He had instantly felt like a person who wouldn’t mess with my relaxation plans.
Now, Aspen sat beside me quietly describing a glade in the woods that sounded otherworldly. I loved how his voice turned melodic as his emotions became more reverent. My focus was entirely on him, never wavering. He was mesmerizing.
I had to check my thoughts. I didn’t think this way about people. Not normally.
“It sounds fantastic,” I said when he’d finished. “Makes me wish I’d been born a shifter.”
“Yes. It would be hard to walk there. It was miles away. Untouched.”
“I’m glad you got to see that.” I took a sip of my cocoa, which was mostly cold dregs now. “What’s it like being able to shift and to run with your animal like that?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Freedom.”
The way he said that word made me sit up straighter. I wished for that more in my life. I made good money at my job. It gave me freedom for many things, like this vacation. But what Aspen described was something money couldn’t buy.
“That’s amazing.” Then out blurted a deeper confession. “And so are you. And your reindeer.”
A slightly stunned expression crossed his features. “Nice of you to say that.”
“I didn’t mean to be so forward. I can’t get the scene of you standing in the snow in front of that lit-up pine tree just about to take off. Raw and wild and real.” I rubbed at my forehead. “Maybe it’s because I spend too much time in the city.”
“Could be.” He widened his eyes. “I do notice when I leave the city it’s like a weight lifts from me.”
“I had a friend who called it a psychic pressure. She swore she could physically feel it and after college she moved to the desert.”
“That’s exactly how it feels. But my job keeps me pretty citified full time. And I love my job.”
“Me, too.” It was true. But I always looked forward to my Christmas vacation away. I booked places that were remote and quiet on purpose.
When Aspen finished his cocoa, he shut his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Are you tired? Are you hungry?” Through the crack in the curtain by the front door, darkness had settled over the mountain.
“Both.”
“Maybe room service tonight?”
“Good idea.”
“What would you like?”
He waved a lazy hand through the air. “Order whatever. I’ll eat anything.”
I walked toward the other side of the room, picked up the house phone and put in an order. Softly, “Two steak dinners with loaded baked potatoes and side salads with ranch on the side. Two chocolate lavas. A bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. And do you have popcorn?”
The man on the other end of the line said the gift shop sold microwave popcorn. And caramel popcorn balls special for the holidays.
“Can you bring over the microwave popcorn with our order?”
“Sure.”
The room came with a small fridge and microwave. We’d stocked in drinks earlier. Sodas and water.
“It will be about forty-five minutes,” the man said.
“Fine.”
When I returned to the couch, Aspen was asleep, his mouth slightly open. I grabbed the blanket he’d dropped on the bed and gently covered him.
Then I picked up my tablet and went back to the bed, lying back against the pillows. I entertained myself with some online puzzle games as I waited for our dinner to arrive.
The fire began to die but I let it. I didn’t want to disturb Aspen.
Finally, there was a knock at the door. “Room service,” someone called out.
I got up, looking over my shoulder to see Aspen stir. I opened the door to a bundled-up guy. He had a warming cart which I immediately wondered how he’d gotten up the porch steps. Then I realized it was a deep container. He could wrangle it without anything falling off.
He wheeled it into our cabin. By then, Aspen was standing and bending back to stretch.
“Is that dinner?”
“Yep.”
I signed for the food and tip, then shut the door.
I rolled the cart beside the coffee table in front of the couch and started unloading. Everything was on trays, so it was easy. They’d even supplied stemware made of real glass for the wine.
I set everything out.
Aspen rubbed his palms together. “This looks great.” He pulled a plastic toothpick from his steak and read it. “Rare. Exactly what I would have ordered.”
After pouring the wine, I sat and took the other tray onto my lap. I hadn’t been the one who’d gone for a run, but I was starving.
“Would you like a movie with dinner?”
“Sure.” Aspen was already digging in. “Whatever you want.”
I found a movie we could rent. A new Christmas movie. My budget had been expanded by sharing cabin rent, so I didn’t care about the price. I clicked on it, and it started.
A great meal. A magical movie. Good company. This was my idea of a great vacation.
We finished every bite and paused the movie to clean up. I grabbed the bags of popcorn and waved them. “For later.”
Aspen clutched at his stomach. “Couldn’t eat another bite.”
“You say that now.” I laughed.
I placed the bags next to the microwave noting we had plenty of coffee and cocoa, but we’d need to restock from the lodge store before tomorrow night, which was Christmas Eve. Those were essentials. We couldn’t run out.
I was happy we hadn’t gone to the lodge tonight. The restaurant was lovely, but I enjoyed being with Aspen alone. We both had the same tastes in food, drink and movies. We laughed at the same moments.
When we got tired, we went to bed with a routine we both naturally followed, never getting in each other’s way, and got under the covers with the pillows between us.
I had my tablet in hand again. It was hard not to be addicted to it. I liked to watch reels or play solitaire to relax my mind before sleep.
“Will the light from my tablet bother you?” I asked.
“Nope.”
Silence. I thought he’d fallen asleep. Instead, he spoke again. “I had a great night. If there’d been a blizzard outside, I wouldn’t have noticed.”
“Me, too.”
“Let’s do it again.” His yawn came loud, like a moan.
“No objection here.”
“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. We should do something special.”
“I think they light up the big tree tomorrow night.”
“The huge one out by the parking lot?”
“Yep.”
“That will take about five minutes. Then what?”
I laughed. “I came here to laze around by a warm fire and have authentic cider.”
“Eggnog,” Aspen put in. “That’s essential on Christmas Eve.”
“That, too.”
“I don’t have to make any plans. I like it that way.”
“Are we behaving like two old men?” I asked.
“More like two guys who work hard finally on vacation. I like not waking up at six-thirty to a blaring alarm. I like staying up late.”
I felt the bed shift as Aspen sat up. A pillow rolled onto my chest. “Uh oh,” he added. “Maybe I’ll become so spoiled I won’t want to go home.”
“You said this evening you love your job.”
“True.”
“Then let’s make a plan that tomorrow we do nothing.”
“We can go to the tree lighting ceremony, though, right?”
“Of course. But other than that, we’ll play it by ear.”