Page 22 of Snowbound with the Santas

“You see, Archer is ex-military. He served with my brother, and that’s how we met. And then, like most people who go to war, my brother didn’t come back. Archer needed some help, so we went to a wellness retreat one year and met Nick.”

“I’m sorry.” My eyes close as he tapes the new gauze into place. “About your brother. I can’t imagine…”

Frankie grunts and continues. “So each year, we come here because it’s peaceful. We like it for different reasons, but I like it because of the snow. I’m a forest ranger back in the States, so being here in winter lets me enjoy most of what I enjoy about nature without the pressure of work.”

“Different trees making it seem like a holiday?”

Frankie chuckles. “Exactly. And besides.” He leans back and sits half a foot away, giving me that adorable smile. “What’s more Christmassy than a wooden cabin surrounded by snow?”

“A little cliché,” I tease, pressing my fingertips against my gauze.

“A cliché for a reason,” he replies. “So you see, we’re not running. Not really. We’re just… seeking peace. And the mountain is peaceful. You’ll see that the longer you’re here.”

He speaks openly, which I presume is his way of trying to show me they’re not scary. Learning that Archer is ex-military, though, definitely explains his rather stoic, grumpy attitude.

“Do you think I’ll be here long?” I ask as Frankie cleans up the medical kit and I redress.

“We won’t know until we can take a look at the tower. It’s gone down in the past, and maintenance this high up is a personal job. If we’re lucky, it’s something we can fix, and we’ll have you calling your family in no time.”

“And if not?”

Frankie’s mouth presses into a sloped line down. “Well… I hope you like the mountains.”

For some strange reason, his answer gives me hope. I shouldn’t like it here, and yet there’s a strange sense of freedom in my heart. I can be myself here. There’s no ex waiting in the corner and no chance of my walking in on my mother ready to give me another lecture.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to be stuck here.

“Get some rest,” Frankie says as he leaves. “And try not to put too much weight on your leg.”

He’s gone with a flash of a smile that leaves excitement fizzing beneath my ribs.

He’s attractive. They’re all so damn attractive.

I spend the rest of the evening mulling over what information I’ve been given while eating the food Frankie brought and taking the painkillers. Eventually, the warmth of the multiple blankets and the satisfying weight of food inside me send me into a deep sleep.

I wake slowly, unable to get my bearings for quite a few minutes. Even with the light still on, the strange surroundings shock me until I remember where I am and how I got here.

Then, sensation wakes up through my body and I’m alerted to the stiff ache in my leg and the burning urge to pee.

“Fuck,” I murmur softly.

Climbing from the bed, I brace myself on the bedside table and pull myself upward. The muscle of my thigh pulls tenderly each time I try to put weight on my leg, so I have to brace myself on the furniture around the room to reach the door.

Opening it, the rest of the cabin is completely dark and silent. Everyone else must be in bed, too. Guilt swarms through my gut as I realize I slept with the light on and I have no idea how these guys generate power.

With that in mind, I keep the hall light off as I slowly limp through the darkness toward the bathroom. The journey is never-ending, and by the time I reach the bathroom, my bladder is ready to burst.

Luckily, I’m well practiced at navigating a bathroom in the dark—or while drunk—so there’s no hassle in finding all I need to relieve myself and briefly wash my hands. Unfortunately, that wakes me right up because the water that comes out of the tap is biting cold and I gasp loudly.

“Fucking hell…” There’s so much about this place that strikes me as obvious only after something is pointed out to me.

My teeth chatter and my leg pulses hot in time to my heartbeat as I dry my hands, then I open the door.

Only, I can’t return to my room.

The hallway light is on now, and a deeply muscular, broad chest blocks my path. A dusting of dark brown hair crosses two swelling pecs, and the warm scents of wood smoke and caramel tease my nose.

I look up and lock eyes with Archer.

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