Chapter 7 Aspen
Aspen
It felt like the drive had taken no time at all when the Welcome to Pine Ridge sign came into view. It had only taken a little over an hour to get here but somehow I felt like I knew more about Cole than I would if we had actually been dating for months.
Honestly, we might have a real shot at convincing his family this was real.
The craziest part? I didn’t have to pretend. I genuinely liked being around him. He was funny and honest and called things exactly as he saw them, and that kind of honesty meant everything to me.
Especially after my failed wedding.
“Here we are,” Cole said.
I glanced over, debating if I should switch the Christmas carols back to his preferred classical music, but he looked relaxed now. Happy, even. So, I left it for now.
“Did you grow up here?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s a small town, but it was home. My dad said they wanted to raise us somewhere outside the city… somewhere I’d learn right from wrong. It was quiet but I had my brother and North.”
“Do you miss it?” I asked.
“Sometimes,” he said. “I like the convenience of the city, but there are things about this place that will always mean something to me. I miss my family the most.”
“Oh my god,” I gasped, interrupting him as white flurries drifted around us. They weren’t thick enough to block our view, but just enough to make the moment feel magical.
When I looked over at Cole he was smiling at me, not the snow. Something stirred in my chest and I tried to bite back a smile of my own, but I was unable to stop it.
“Snow out here is different. It doesn’t instantly churn into a gray sludge,” he said, actually sharing in the excitement of the moment.
“I always thought there was something special about the first snow of the season,” I said. “Maybe not the first one that’s fallen but your first snow.”
“Definitely magical,” he agreed, humoring me. “I have a feeling I’m going to see this town in a new light with you along, chaos.”
I let out a laugh at the nickname that most would find strange, and gaped as Pine Ridge truly came into view. Vintage lampposts lined the streets. Garland and Christmas lights were wrapped from post to post, connecting everything in a warm festive glow.
Every storefront on Main Street had Christmas window displays like they were competing with each other, each one more elaborate than the next.
In the center of the town square stood a giant Christmas tree that could rival the ones in the city. It was covered in ornaments and multicolored lights that sparkled merrily.
“This town is gorgeous,” I breathed. “It’s like something out of a holiday movie.”
“Just wait until the weekend,” he said. “They go all out with the Christmas Market. There’s hot cocoa that I literally dream about every year.”
“Sounds like we’ll be busy,” I smiled. “But in a healthy way. And no work.” I threw him a side eye to prove that I meant it.
“I’ll try my best,” he said solemnly. It felt like he meant the words so I let it go for now.
“Oh my gosh, is that real?” I gasped, spotting a sign. “The Pine Ridge Gazette? That’s a local paper.”
“That’s where I fell in love with writing,” he admitted, his voice almost wistful now.
“The alpha who runs it was one of the coolest old men I ever met. He’d tell me stories until my mom had to come drag me home.
I soaked up every word and even wrote a few articles about them. He let me intern there in high school.”
“That’s incredible,” I said. “I would’ve killed for something like that.”
“Did you ever want to work the other sides of journalism,” he asked, “or just writing?”
“I thought about being an editor, but writing is where my passion is. I want to travel sometimes, but I want a home base to come back to. The interviews and being on the street where events are happening, that’s where the heart of journalism is.
Not just bad, but the good. It’s a balance that I find beauty in. ”
“I think you’re one of a kind, Aspen,” he said. “Not many people care that much.”
“Isn’t that the point of writing?” I countered. “To make people care?”
He considered that.
“You’re right. That’s why I started the magazine,” he admitted.
“Some people think it’s just houses and influencers.
And yeah, that’s part of it now. But, we also showcase small businesses, new designers, restaurants, recipes, chefs…
It’s about showing the diversity of pack life.
We have omega-centered nesting designs and we have up-and-coming designers tell us about what led them down this path.
We wanted to show the people behind every section, not just the material things, but the heart. ”
“Those who understand, get it,” I said gently, my hand reaching for him on instinct. Touching him was dangerous, it made my omega stir in a way no one ever had. “Your magazine does touch lives, Cole.”
“You don’t have to reassure me,” he said, shaking his head. He didn’t know me well enough to realize I never said things I didn’t truly believe, so I wouldn’t hold it against him.
“Don’t doubt what you’ve built,” I said firmly. “It won’t be for everyone. Writing, like art, is subjective.”
“It is,” he agreed. “I take pride in the magazine and everything we’ve built. I created it to be a balance of all aspects of pack life. A place for packs to see and read about people like them and see how they found peace in everyday life. Packs for younger packs to look up to.”
“You’ve accomplished that, Cole. Not just for readers, but the people you work for.
I’m on the floor with your employees. There’s pride in what we do and it shows.
In fact, it’s the least toxic work environment I’ve ever worked in.
If you don’t believe me, there’s a group for reviewing employers on PackVlog. Check it out, sometime.”
“Really?” he was shocked. Cole had been so caught up in running this business he hadn’t had a chance to appreciate the empire he’s built.
That was fine. I’d show him.
“We can pull it up later,” I promised, turning back to the road and frowning as the town started to shift past buildings, fields and forest taking over the landscape.
“I thought we were staying in town,” I said, disappointment hitting me.
“Sort of,” he replied, slowing the car and flashing me his grin that hit me right in the chest every time. It felt special, knowing not many got to see him like this. The softer side to Cole Hawthorne. “Look up.”
I craned my neck, staring up through the icy windshield. At the top of a hill stood iron fencing and… a massive estate.
A mansion, really. All stone and ivy and more stories than one family could really fill.
“Holy shit, Cole,” I breathed out in shock. “You’re loaded.”
He barked out a laugh. “You’re very blunt.”
“You’re just now figuring that out?” I shot back before turning back to the brick monstrosity up ahead. “Good for you guys. Also, whoever you do marry someday? Get a prenup.”
“Noted,” he said, still laughing. “But I’d like to believe the right person would love what I built, not try to take it.”
“Packs surprise you,” I said, bitterness slipping through. “Money and status can change people.”
I shook the awful feelings away quickly. My exes didn’t deserve space in my head now. I wanted to live in the moment with Cole for the next two weeks. The rest could come later.
Hopefully, by then, they would feel like a distant memory, a past life.
Cole parked and cut the engine right as we reached the front gates. Something heavy shifted in the air and I looked at him, concerned now.
“I just need a minute before we go in,” he said quietly before he climbed out of the car.
Snow still drifted down around us and I pulled my coat tighter before stepping out with him. He leaned against the hood, staring at the house he’d once called home. It was imposing from here. Pretty, but too big and isolated in all the white surrounding us now.
“You okay?” I asked, stepping close enough to share his warmth.
“I am,” he said softly, pressing his arm against mine as we leaned against the hood, staring up at the estate. “It’s just… been a long time since I appreciated winter out here.”
He inhaled deeply.
Then froze.
His eyes snapped to mine.
“Is that your scent?”
I blinked. “What? Maybe? I had blockers. They were supposed to wear off after the wedding.”
Lifting the coat I buried my face into my arm, smelling deep to see. There it was, stronger than it should be, orange and cranberry.
“Why?” he asked, already moving away from me before I could answer.
He ran to the trunk, grabbed a water bottle, and poured it over his hands and arms, rubbing it frantically across his skin and neck.
“Cole, what are you doing?” I startled, looking at him like he’d lost his mind. It was freezing cold out here.
He stepped back toward me fast and shoved his wrist under my nose.
“Breathe in. What do you smell?”
I closed my eyes and inhaled.
Then moaned.
Warm. Smoky. Deep.
Pine, cinnamon, and smoke. Like a Christmas spent in front of a fireplace. All warm and cozy. There was an undercurrent of alpha spice that only made it feel more real.
It wrapped around me and settled straight in my chest, as if fitting into a place that had been empty and just waiting for him to show up.
“Scent-matches,” I choked out in shock.
“You’re mine,” he said with certainty. He wasn’t shying away, but excited. “I should’ve known the first time I saw you. The moment you kissed me. I felt it then.”
“So… your mom? Was that all a show to keep me close?” I asked.
“That was desperation,” he said. “But I also couldn’t let you go.”
I swallowed, saying the first thing that popped into my head because I was reeling. “I’d have to quit my job.”
“No,” he said immediately. “Your job is safe. You work in a different department. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” I said, pacing now, wearing a path in the fluffy snow. “We are in such different places and I just left a shitty relationship. What if this is all just a rebound? Not real?”
“You know this isn’t like that. Give me two weeks, Aspen. Two.” Cole was pleading now, begging for me to give him a chance. “Let me court you. Let me show you I can be a worthy alpha.”
He looked like he might actually drop to his knees if I didn’t cave.
Everything in me wanted to say yes.
“I said I wanted adventure,” I whispered more to myself than him. “Something unforgettable.”
“Two weeks,” he said again, his brown eyes on fire for me, desperation and pure need lighting them up.
“Two weeks,” I agreed on a whisper that the wind stole away. But he heard me. Cole’s smile was instant.
One hand slid into my hair, another at my hip, tilting my face up as he pressed his lips to mine and kissed me.
This one was slow and commanding, as if he were committing this to memory like I had with the first snow of the season.
My body responded, heat winding through me as if his smoky scent ignited something within me. As if he breathed new life into my cold, jaded heart.
This was what a mate’s kiss should feel like.
When he pulled back, my lips were burning. It wasn’t enough.
“Two weeks,” I whispered again. An attempt to cling to my armor he had already slowly chipped away on the ride here.
We stood there in the snow, breath fogging, hearts racing.
Finally, a cold wind swept through and he snapped back to reality.
“Let’s get inside,” he said quickly. “You’re freezing and it’s time to meet the family. Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”