Chapter 3
DAVEY
The lodge appeared to be everything the website had promised. Everything except organized.
“Seriously, am I being punked?” I let out a laugh that was slightly hysterical even to my own ears. "Did my mom put you up to this? Is this her way of forcing me to go home?" I directed my question to the clerk who looked increasingly uncomfortable.
"I assure you, sir, this was just an unfortunate technical error.
We're not affiliated with your mother." He typed something else into his computer and sighed.
"If there was anything I could do to accommodate both of you, I would. But we just don’t have any availability.
I can offer you both a full refund and a coupon for a future stay. "
I could almost see my carefully constructed holiday plans crumbling around me.
The alpha in line ahead of me, Mr. Gray, cleared his throat and held the key out to me. "Here, you take it." He waited for me to meet his gaze before nodding toward the key. "I can just go home. It’s fine."
I stared at the key and then at him, completely surprised by the generous offer. Most alphas I knew would have simply claimed what they wanted and left me to figure things out. But he was different. I didn’t understand how I knew that, but I did.
"Thank you, but I couldn't do that to you.
You have every right to be here, and it sounds like you booked first." I inhaled deeply and blew it out.
"I should be the one to go. Apparently, it's my destiny to be miserable for the holidays.
" I pushed off the counter to leave, but the alpha grabbed my wrist and pressed the key into my palm.
"Take it." His voice was rougher than before.
The moment his skin touched mine, a jolt of something electric shot up my arm. Our eyes locked, and I felt a strange pulling sensation deep in my chest, like a hook had lodged itself between my ribs and was tugging me toward him.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't think.
All I could do was stare into those amber eyes as the rest of the world seemed to stop existing.
I nodded dumbly as my fingers closed around the key.
When he finally released my hand, it was like breaking the surface after being underwater.
Reason flooded back, and I looked down at the key in my palm, then back up at him.
"This is ridiculous." I was channeling someone else.
Someone brave. Someone horny. Well, that part was all me.
"The cabin has a couch and a bed, right?
" I turned to the clerk for confirmation.
“Yes, of course.”
"Then we can share. There's no reason for either of us to miss out on our vacation." The words had left my mouth before my brain had fully processed them. Sharing a cabin with a complete stranger? An alpha no less. One who made my insides turn to jelly with just a touch? What was I thinking?
The man’s eyebrows shot up, and for a split second, I heard a growl rumble from his chest. "Share?" He seemed to be considering it but wasn’t sure how serious I was. “You want to share with an alpha you don’t even know?”
"Yeah." When he put it that way, it did sound crazy. "It's a big cabin, right? We're adults. We can handle it for a week. It's not like we'll be in each other's space all the time anyway."
The clerk looked between us, clearly relieved that a solution might be presenting itself. "Cabin Seven is one of our larger cabins…"
Mr. Gray studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. I resisted the urge to fidget under his intense gaze before he finally nodded. "Yeah, okay. We can be adults."
"I'm Davey, by the way.” I held out my hand, trying to act like this was a normal introduction and not like I'd just propositioned a stranger to be my temporary roommate. “Davey Carter."
He took my hand, and that same electric feeling zinged between us. "Michael Gray." His gaze never wavered as he held my hand a second longer than strictly necessary.
When he finally released my grip, I flexed my fingers to shake off the lingering sensation of his touch. "So." I took a step back and tried to make conversation. "What brings you to Winter Wonderland for Christmas? Family thing?"
His brow furrowed and leaned closer before catching himself and straightening his spine. "No. I just needed to get away."
"Same." At least we had that in common. "My family is...a lot. And they don't exactly approve of my life choices."
"Well, I promise not to judge you." He picked up his bag and opened the door for me to walk out first. “But I’d love to hear all about these questionable life choices, omega.”
I flinched, surprised he knew that. Most people couldn't tell I was an omega just by looking at me. I worked out regularly and didn't fit the stereotype of the small, delicate omega that society seemed to expect.
But alphas had a way of knowing these things sometimes.
The path to the cabins was lined with solar lights that cast a soft glow on the snow. Our breath fogged in the cold as we walked with only the crunch of our boots and the distant hooting of an owl matching our noises.
"To answer your question, my family thinks I should have settled down by now.” I made air quotes and rolled my eyes. “With a nice, respectable alpha who can take care of me."
A flash of amusement crossed Michael's face. "And you don't want to be taken care of?"
I shrugged and kept my eyes on the ground in front of us. The path was groomed, but ice was always slippery. "I want to make my own choices, not have them dictated to me because of my biology."
“Fair enough.”
"So, what do you do?" It was cliche, but I couldn’t think of anything better to say to change the subject. "For work, I mean."
Michael adjusted his bag on his shoulder. "I own a security firm. Mostly corporate contracts, but I’ve got a few private clients."
That explained the muscles and the way he watched me so intently. Did he think I was a threat? "That sounds interesting."
He shrugged and kept walking. "It pays the bills. What about you?"
"I'm a graphic designer. I work for an ad agency in the city."
When we reached our cabin, Michael stepped back and gestured for me to go in first.
It was a nice gesture but having him stand so close made me fumble with the keys for a full fifteen seconds before the lock clicked and I pushed the door open.
"Wow." I put down my bags just inside the door. "This is nice."
The cabin was even more perfect than I'd imagined. Warm light spilled from the lit fireplace and illuminated the cozy space. It was straight out of a magazine.
I frowned when I saw a fully decorated Christmas tree by the window. “Oh. Didn’t expect them to decorate.”
“Yeah, better them than us.” Michael stepped in behind me and closed the door. "The bedroom is through there." He pointed to a door off the main room. "You should take it. I'll use the pullout couch."
I frowned and slipped my hands in my coat pocket. "That doesn't seem fair. It's your vacation too."
"I insist." His tone left no room for argument, and he nodded toward the blazing fire. “I’ve slept by the fireplace before. It’s comfortable.”
Normally, I would have pushed back and worked out some kind of equitable schedule, but I was too exhausted to bother. If he offered it, I was gonna accept. "If you're sure, that’d be great. But let me know if you change your mind."
Michael moved to the fireplace and tossed two more logs on it to get it roaring. "I'll be fine."
I watched as the flames grew, and the firelight danced in his eyes, making them appear almost animalist. The man was ridiculously handsome, and being alone in a cabin with him was starting to sound like a bad idea. For him. How would I control myself?
"I should, uh, get unpacked." I put the bag with groceries on the counter and carried my suitcase into the bedroom.
The bedroom was as lovely as the rest of the cabin, with a king-sized bed covered in a plush comforter and more pillows than any one person needed. I sat on the edge and pulled out my phone. No service.
That was probably a good thing.
When I returned to the main room, Michael had put away the groceries and had his head in the fridge. “Are you hungry?”
"Yeah." I dropped onto one of the bar stools. "I can make pasta or sandwiches."
He looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. "Pasta sounds good."
"Perfect." I went to the shelf he just stocked. “I have a pesto and a marinara. What do you prefer?
“Both sound good, but I love pesto.”
A man after my own heart. “Pesto it is.”
And just like that, we fell into a comfortable rhythm. He chopped vegetables for a simple salad while I boiled water for the pasta. We moved around each other in the small kitchen with surprising ease, as if we'd done this a hundred times before.
When we finally sat down to eat at the small dining table, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of rightness. Like meeting Michael in the lobby and sharing a cabin with him for Christmas was meant to happen.
And despite the tree, maybe it wouldn’t be such a lonely Christmas after all.