Chapter Eleven
I n the mudroom off the side of the entrance to the lodge, Everett watched Jeannie pluck gear from piles of items organised in baskets. “My grandparents have collected a lot of stuff over the years,” she whispered. “A lot of their boarders can’t be bothered to pay the extra fees to ship all their gear back home, so they leave most of it here.”
They got fitted up with headlamps, poles, snowshoes, and neck warmers, although after a few minutes of moving through snow that deep, they’d warm up anyway. Everett would have been okay to stay back and continue talking by the fire. Or stay in this dim room, all alone, and not talk. But he’d follow her lead.
Jeannie might label herself a “creature comforts kind of gal,” but he liked this spontaneous, adventurous side of her. And she clearly knew more than she let on about the outdoors and being outside. She was just getting better by the second. But she still thinks you’re of a different class , he reminded himself. And if she ever met his family, she’d probably turn around and run. They were nothing like hers, a family right out of the movies. He couldn’t let himself get too stuck on her.
“And here,” Jeannie said, passing him a small canister and tucking one in her own pocket. “Bears are hibernating, but after last night’s excitement we’re better to be safe than sorry.”
“Agreed,” said Everett. “All right. Let’s go.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were snowshoeing at a leisurely pace through the woods behind the lodge, not talking much except when Jeannie pointed out some landmarks—like the meadow in the middle of the forest that gave Butterfly Lake its name, where knapweed thistles, heather, and willowherbs grew thick and attracted thousands of butterflies in the warmer weather—and when Everett managed to spot a snowy owl high in the tree canopy above.
The air tasted of the recent snowfall, which coated the tree branches like fondant icing. How had he let himself stay away from this world for so long? He knew exactly why. For every perfect revelation from Mother Nature there was a pain in his heart for his father, who’d been so attuned to the natural world and all the things that brought Everett joy and exhilaration. In some ways, being outdoors made him feel closer to his father, but in another way, it made Everett miss him so much he felt sick.
He cleared his throat. He was out here with a gorgeous woman. He’d focus on her and the beauty of the moment. “Look,” said Everett, pointing out some tracks in the snow lit up by his headlamp. They were pointy and heart shaped, separated down the middle like a broken heart.
“Deer,” Jeannie said easily.
“You got it,” he said. A whip-smart stunner who loved her family, wore high heels, drank beer from the bottle, and could ID tracks in the woods. Was he dreaming?
Now that they were farther out from the town and the faint light pollution from the small community, the stars shone even brighter in the sky above. “Let’s rest for a second,” Jeannie said. She stuck her poles into the snow by a tree and lay back on the snow in a small clearing. “I used to do this as a kid,” she said. “Come here.”
Everett put his poles next to hers and lay back in the snow beside Jeannie, closer than she might have expected him to. Should he move over? He shifted in the snow, and she didn’t flinch. “Turn off your headlamp,” Jeannie said, and Everett followed her instruction. Through the tall spindly evergreens and the leafless trees, the stars sparkled more brightly than as long as he could remember, and for several minutes they were quiet, the only sound coming from the gentle wind through the trees and their breathing.
“Is this what wanted to show me?” Everett asked after a few minutes. “It’s amazing.”
“Yes, but there’s something else. It’s back toward town. Come on,” she said.
Jeannie led the way through the woods until they emerged behind the post office on the town’s Main Street. The plows hadn’t made it there yet, so the only way to tell where the road was located was from the gap in between the buildings. They passed the dark shops, the library, and the community centre until they reached a large pavilion. “Here,” she said.
“What is it?”
Everett shone his headlamp into the covered area, and as they got closer, he made out a whole collection of ice sculptures, everything from a giant Christmas tree, to a bear holding a gift, to an intricately carved version of Santa’s sleigh. The pavilion overhead had kept the snow off, though there were light drifts on the ground below. “This is incredible,” he said. He turned to Jeannie. “I think this town is officially the most Christmas-y place on the planet.”
“Agreed,” Jeannie said. They walked through the sculptures, their headlamps making the ice sparkle and glisten. “What time do you think it is?” she asked. It was definitely way after midnight.
“I’d guess around one-thirty?” he said. If anyone had asked him a few days ago how he’d have pictured his Christmas, nothing about this night would have entered into his response. “We’d better be getting back.”
*
Jeannie was having a great time and would have stayed out later with Everett, but he was right. It was really late, and the temperature was continuing to drop. She gestured the direction they needed to go.
“You know, you surprised me,” Everett said. “I didn’t peg you as someone with much of a sense of adventure.”
“There you go again, making assumptions,” she said. “But you’re not entirely wrong. My work requires me to fit into a pretty narrow box. So, I don’t often get to go snowshoeing in the middle of the night with guitar players.”
“So, I’m the lucky anomaly, then.”
Something about Everett made her want to shed her sense of propriety. Of what was expected of her. To do whatever the heck she felt like doing in the moment. And what she wanted to do in that very moment was to kiss him. She looked over to find his face lit up by the bright moon. “So, if it’s after midnight, that means it’s not Christmas anymore,” she said.
Everett stopped and faced her, and she had no doubt in her mind what he wanted. She wanted it too.
“It’s Christmas while we’re still awake. Merry Christmas, Jeannie,” Everett said quietly, and in a moment his lips were on hers, warm and soft. She could taste the sweet cider on his lips, and while there was a light stubble on his lip and chin, she couldn’t get close enough to him.
She dropped her poles in the snow and allowed him to pull her in flush against his tall, lean frame. Kissing Everett McCarthy was a dream. She suddenly felt like a teen fan, kissing her music idol in some kind of far-fetched fantasy where he finally discovered she was the one in the audience who held the key to his heart.
Before midnight, after midnight, she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way his lips moved with hers, the soft rumble of pleasure that seemed to come from deep in his chest, and the desire in his eyes when they pulled back for just a moment before melting back into an even deeper, hungrier kiss.
He kissed her like he wanted to make sure she’d never kiss anyone but him ever again. It must have been fifteen below, but every part of Jeannie burned with hot desire for Everett. Even through her thick layers of clothing, she felt his hands on her as though he were touching her bare skin. She let out an involuntary gasp as fingers, which had shed his glove at some point, moved down the back of her neck, then the side, bringing her closer still, until he moved his hand away and his lips were on that same spot, the trail of warmth setting her even further on fire.
Pieces of snow from her toque entered through her neckline and started to drip cold water down her back. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome. She was burning up.
He pulled back, dipping his chin and fixing her in his gaze. He wanted her just as badly; there was no question. “We really should go back,” he said, and her bubble deflated immediately. Did he think she was a bad kisser? Had she misread him completely?
She tried to catch her breath. “Uh, okay,” she managed.
“It’s not… It’s just that—” He paused. He took her hand, and reluctantly she pulled away a bit farther, trying to get to a place where she could think straight again. “I don’t want your family to think I’m some kind of loser musician cliché,” he said.
“I don’t know why you’d—”
He grasped her other hand and looked her straight in the eye. “I really like your family. They’re great people. And if they see you coming back with me like this, in the middle of the night,” he said, “they may not like me quite as much.” Jeannie knew he was right, even though she didn’t want it to be true. She was twenty-eight and free to do what she wanted whenever she wanted, but no one wanted to wonder about their daughter or granddaughter’s sex life. He passed her the hiking poles, and she allowed him to put the headlamp back on her head. “So, I need to get you back home before someone sees that the only thing on my bed right now is my brand-new hockey jersey.”
Jeannie couldn’t help but smile. “All right,” she said. She knew everyone would be fast asleep. But it was sweet that Everett cared what her family thought of him.
“Let’s go back,” he said. “But let’s keep our lamps off. You’re right. It’s magic out here.”
With his poles tucked under one arm, he took her gloved hand in his. Under the light of the moon, they trekked back through the trees together and quietly let themselves back into the mudroom.
*
The lodge was quiet and still as they shed their outdoor gear.
“Cute pj’s,” Everett whispered, eyeing her fleece set with a grin on his face.
“Thanks, they’re new,” she said quietly, slightly embarrassed he was seeing her in her reindeer-print ensemble.
“Let me guess. The whole family has a matching set.”
“You’re not wrong.”
Sue had left Everett’s lamp on in his ground-floor room.
“I guess this is me,” he said quietly in her ear.
“I feel like I’m dropping you off from a date,” she whispered.
“Nice try. That wasn’t the date,” he said. He slipped his hand around her waist and drew her close. “But I’ll take a goodnight kiss,” he said quietly in her ear, his deep voice reverberating through every inch of her body.
“Goodnight, Everett,” she breathed. His face turned, and his lips were on hers again, warm and wanting. She sighed with pleasure, shivering as his hand slid underneath the fabric of her pyjamas, holding the lower part of her back and trailing slowly upward.
A creek in the wooden floorboards above made them jump back. Jeannie stifled a giggle, then put a finger in front of her mouth, imploring him to stay quiet. “Goodnight,” she whispered again and let go of Everett’s hand. Who was awake?
She smoothed her pyjama top and took a steadying breath before ascending the stairs, hoping there were no creaks in the wood. Her entire body was buzzing with desire, and it was all she could do to keep moving forward instead of retracing her steps back into Everett’s arms.
“What are you still doing up?”
Jeannie stopped in her tracks to find Sue in her white nightgown, white hair loose around her shoulders instead of in her usual bun. “I was just… I was worried I left the stove on,” she fibbed. “I made tea after the movie.”
Sue studied Jeannie’s face. “You get some sleep,” Sue said.
Jeannie nodded and started toward her room.
“And Jeannie,” Sue said. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again.” She paused for a moment, then gave Jeannie a knowing smile. “He’s a real sweetie. To think I’d been calling the wrong number for CAA all day! No wonder no one was calling me back.” She winked.
Jeannie’s jaw dropped. She stood looking at her grandma incredulously as Sue slipped back into her bedroom and shut the door.
Jeannie scoffed, unable to keep the wide grin from spreading over her face, then went in her room and shut the door, flopping onto her bed and burying her face in her pillow to muffle her laughter.