Christmas Cookie Baby Read online

  Together they worked at removing each other’s many clothes, and together they fell to the sleeping bags, slipping inside where the flannel was at first cold, but then soft and warm against bare skin.

  He was half-on, half-off her, one of his legs between hers. She arched against him. “Now…”

  While brushing his lips up her throat, he said, “Later. Much later.”

  Chapter Three

  DEEP INTO THE night, Colby had lost count of how many times they’d made love.

  Rose eventually drifted into a deep sleep.

  Without her to distract him, the gravity of their situation hit hard. The air in the plane’s cabin was so cold that if he popped his head out from between the sleeping bags, ice crystals formed in his exhaled breaths. A fine sheet of frost coated most every surface. Already, his beloved plane—his most prized possession—was evolving from transport to tomb.

  Out of habit, he moved to rub his stubbled jaw, but Rose used his right arm as a pillow.

  What a night. Rose was an amazing woman. Under different circumstances, who knew where things might lead?

  Funny, when he’d first landed in this snow bowl in the middle of nowhere, all he could think about were the loose ends of his life that would now be forever undone.

  And questions. So many questions.

  Would his mom be all right? Who would get his stuff, since he’d never gotten around to drawing up a will? Who would fix Nugget’s busted toaster or help him serve Christmas breakfast at the lodge? Who would gather old Henry’s firewood when the snow got too deep for him to leave his cabin, and who would make sure the old coot remembered his high-blood-pressure medication?

  But now, nestled beside the sweetest curves he’d ever had the pleasure of embracing, his mind skipped to more important things. Matters of family and love.

  His father had taken off the day before Colby’s sixth birthday. Swallowing hard, he remembered his blow-out-the-candles double wish.

  I wish Dad would come home.

  I wish Mom would stop crying.

  Twenty-five years later, his newlywed mom sported a perpetual grin. His first wish hadn’t come true, but at this point, Colby didn’t want it to. As far as he was concerned, his old man was a bum. In every way possible—from overachieving in the Navy to running a successful business while finding time to help anyone in need—Colby had strived to become the kind of man his father had never been. A man worthy of respect.

  While Colby was growing up, his mom waitressed at Kodiak Lodge. Having lived there all her life, she’d often said she should have known better than to marry an outsider. She’d since married another, though, and become an outsider herself by moving to New Mexico with a retired CEO she’d met when he’d spent a week at the lodge while fly-fishing.

  Colby used to wonder how she stood the desert heat, but right now an eternity of hundred-degree days didn’t sound half bad.

  As a kid, Colby vowed that if he had a son, he’d never leave as his father had. Although given his current situation, that was a moot point. From the looks of things, his dream of becoming a dad might never come true. Unless…

  He glanced at Rose. Could she be pregnant? No, he decided. And since they might both die, he wouldn’t want her to be.

  She rolled onto her side, snuggling her cheek against his coarse chest hairs.

  Colby knew he was too rough around the edges for her type, but then, that didn’t matter much, either.

  “Merry Christmas,” she mumbled beneath their covers. The heat of her breath aroused him all over again.

  “Merry Christmas yourself, Santa Baby. Although it’s still dark and I don’t know where you flung my watch, so I have no idea if it’s really the big day.” He kissed the top of her head, loving the clean scent of her shampoo.

  “Who cares? With you, I’m guessing any day would be a big day.”

  “Thanks.” He twirled a lock of her hair. “So? You ready for one more lesson?”

  She grinned. “Sure, but after that, how about breaking for Christmas cookies and cocoa?”

  “Sorry. Fresh out. But I do have something else you might like.”

  “Mmm… Yes, you do.”

  “HEY GUYS, OVER here! I think I found ’em!” Working in near-whiteout conditions by the light of battery-powered headlamps near the top of Juneau Ridge, Brody Crawford waved over the rest of his rescue crew. They operated as a team—much like back in their SEAL days, answering urgent calls for help.

  Colby Davis would’ve risked his life for any one of them. For a few of the adventure-seeking visitors to Kodiak Gorge’s thriving adventure tourism community, he already had. But this was different. Colby was one of them. And his crash hadn’t been about catching his latest adrenaline rush, but catching a bad break by getting caught in that storm.

  Now it was Colby’s turn to be rescued, and by God, not a single man on the crew was prepared to breathe the word defeat—let alone admit it.

  The wind shifted, blowing enough snow off the tail of Colby’s beloved—and now busted—De-Havilland Beaver to validate Brody’s hunch.

  “Here!” he shouted, already using his lightweight shovel to dig out Colby and his passenger. “One more hour and they’d have been buried till spring.”

  “Think they’re alive?” asked Tanner, a towering Swede with eyes so pale blue his Navy call sign had been Ice.

  “Hope so. Never much cottoned to dead fish in a can—not even packed in oil.”

  Tanner grimaced. “Love you, Brode. Always the poet.”

  “Not!” called out Sergei Koyck, one of the crew’s founding members.

  “All right,” Brody said. “Let’s quit the chatter and dig. It’s damned cold out here. Once we find Colby and his fare, I can’t wait to sink my teeth into that Christmas ham I smelled cooking at the lodge.” He should share the holiday meal with his family, but every year it grew harder to watch his twin brother, Brandon, canoodle his wife, Lilliana. Once upon a time, they’d all been best friends, but to Brody, she’d secretly been much more. Before he’d found the nerve to make his move by confessing he was crazy about her, Brandon had beat him to it.

  Ancient history. His twin had won her fair and square, and Lilliana adored him. Usually, Brody was cool with that fact. But holidays reminded him how much it sucked being alone. Which was why his friends meant so much.

  Twenty minutes later, the beams from their headlamps cutting weak yellow paths through blowing snow, the four-man crew located the plane’s windshield and then dug around to the passenger-side door. The temperature must’ve been dropping a few degrees every minute, because Brody’s ice-crusted brows felt like crinkle fries.

  “Got it!” He dug the last of the snow from the handle, then kicked enough free from the bottom to yank open the door. It would have been faster to bust a window, but if either Colby or his fare were unconscious just on the other side, Brody didn’t want them cut by glass. “Someone want to give me more light?”

  Tanner offered a powerful flashlight from his tool belt.

  “Thanks.” Brody peered into the gloom. At first glance, the plane appeared abandoned, but then he shone the light into the cargo area. “They’re here,” he called back to the guys, “but I can’t tell if they’re still alive.”

  He climbed in, slicing the light through his foggy breath toward a lumpy mound at the rear of the plane.

  No blood. But no signs of movement, either. And no appendages peeking out to at least give him a clue as to their status.

  He and Colby went way back. Not that he’d go shouting it from the rooftops, but Brody loved Colby like a brother.

  Steeling himself for the worst, praying for the best, Brody jerked back the covers to find a sight even more shocking than two dead bodies.

  Two very much alive and buck-naked bodies.

  Snuggled together cozy as a couple of squirrels all tucked in for winter were Colby and his fare—both in a deep sleep.

  Their ordeal must’ve been exhausting, all right—in a good way
!

  Colby’s fare was a pretty little thing, decked out in nothing but his goofy Santa hat. Judging by the pink tones of their bare skin, both parties looked to be in excellent condition.

  Tossing the cover back over the juicy parts, Brody cleared his throat, then shouted to the rest of the guys, “They’re good!”

  “Colby’s fine?” Tanner popped his head through the open door just in time to catch a flash of bare skin. His lips curved into a wide grin. “Oh hell, yeah. From the looks of it, I’d say he’s doing a damned sight better than the rest of us.”

  COLBY SAT STRAIGHT up, cast a sleepy look at his grinning friends, and said, “Hot damn. The elves put a rescue crew in my stocking.” He couldn’t stop smiling—until sharp cold had him noticing not just his bare chest, but the naked woman beside him. He jerked the covers up, thrilled by their rescue, but also more than a little ashamed.

  Rose.

  Sweet, beautiful, innocent, almost virginal Rose. After the night they’d just shared, she’d officially become an ex-almost-virgin. Considering their certain death, her deflowering had seemed noble. Now, he didn’t exactly regret his hasty decision, but knew sleeping with his fare also hadn’t been his most professional move.

  Oh, man… He rubbed his stubbled jaw.

  Man, oh man.

  Never.

  Never, in a million years would his buds let him live this down. They’d hound him till the end of time, at which point they’d follow him straight to hell to start all over again.

  “Yo, Colby?” Brody said. “You two ready to get the hell off this mountain?”

  “Yeah.” Colby put his hand to his suddenly aching forehead. “Just give us a sec.”

  “Sure.” After tossing his flashlight into Colby’s lap, Brody didn’t bother hiding a chuckle. And so it began. But that was okay. Because of his talented friends, he and Rose had been gifted the ultimate second chance at life. “Come on out when you’re ready.”

  After smirking Brody had left, closing the cabin door behind him, Colby said to the warm curves beside him, “Coast is clear. You still under there?”

  The woman he’d just spent the best hours of his life with poked her mussed hair, then sleepy-eyed face out from under the covers. She wasn’t smiling.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded but wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  Slipping his fingers beneath her chin, he forced her to look at him. “Those guys are cool,” he said. “They might come off a little rough around the edges, but trust me, not a word of your part in this will ever be mentioned.”

  Nodding, she swallowed hard, but in the flashlight’s accusing beam, not only did her teeth chatter, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  “What’s wrong? I know being found in the buff was awkward, but babe, we’re going to live. That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Of course, but…”

  “What?”

  “This…us—all of it—was just so out of character for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but while on the outside nothing’s changed, in here—” She touched her hand to her chest “—I’m scared to death nothing will ever be the same.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “B-beats me,” she said with a more violent shiver. “M-maybe just that I thought I had my whole life figured out. But now, after we could have died, I’m n-not so sure.”

  “Well, hey…” He drew her against him, letting their shared body heat get back to work. “How about letting me help you figure it out? My hours are flexible. Over the next few weeks, we could get to know each other under less stressful circumstances.”

  “S-sounds nice. B-but I don’t think so.”

  “Why?” After the wild night they’d shared, she was turning him down for a simple date?

  “It would never work.”

  “What wouldn’t? I’m not talking lifelong commitment—just sharing a bottle of wine over a good meal. Hell, I’ll even cook.” Begging wasn’t his thing. What had she done to him? Could this close call have fundamentally changed him, too? Maybe? But at the moment, it was too damned cold to stick around to find out. “Never mind. It’s all good.”

  He left her to start dragging on the clothes he’d kept in the sleeping bag for the dual purpose of providing them with added insulation and to keep the garments from freezing.

  “T-thank you.” Rose also hurried to dress. “I a-appreciate the offer. And everything you’ve done. You’re a super pilot for getting us through this a-alive.”

  “Women.” Reaching for his shirt, Colby shook his head. “If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never understand them.”

  Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her own top. “Likewise.”

  Colby finished dressing in silence, then said, “I’ll wait outside for you to get your clothes on—but you might want to hurry. The weather’s not getting any better.”

  After they’d loaded Rose’s luggage and junk food into Brody’s Cessna—he’d put skis on it for the winter—the trip to the Global Oil site took just under an hour.

  Brody had radioed ahead, so upon landing, Global’s crew helped with the gear and getting everyone inside—including the plane, which was now in a hangar. The wind up here was brutal. Shaking Brody’s ride like a chew toy. Lashing Colby’s cheeks like an icy whip. He regretted leaving his balaclava back in his downed plane. May she rest in peace.

  Thankfully, the Global guys had taken Rose into the sprawling station first, so Colby hadn’t had to deal with her. By the time he and the rest of his team entered, soaking in the blessed warmth, Dot, the only woman on Global’s crew, had already showed Rose to her room.

  Dot pretty much served as the station’s supply master, nurse, and den mother. She was round as a berry with perpetually wind-chapped cheeks and a booming laugh raspy from too many cigarettes. She had a penchant for girly pastel sweatsuits, yet wore her white hair in a crew cut.

  “Poor thing looked like an exhausted, half-drowned kitten,” Dot said about Rose after a round of hugs, then seating them all at the long mess hall table with steaming bowls of beef stew. “What’d you do to her, Colby?”

  Brody laughed. “The question should be what didn’t he do?”

  “Knock it off,” Colby damn near growled when everyone else joined Brody’s laughter.

  Thankfully, the Global crew had returned to their rooms or jobs.

  “Interesting…” Grinning, Dot reached for her cigs.

  “You do know it’s against regulation for you to smoke in here?” Colby noted.

  “True, but it’s probably an even bigger infraction to have a one-night stand with a gal who damn near died on your watch.”

  “Burn…” Brody helped himself to more stew. “She makes a valid point.”

  “Screw all of you.” Colby focused on finishing the contents of his bowl.

  Tanner said, “Seems to me you’d have more fun screwing your new blizzard buddy.”

  Just as he’d feared, Colby would never live this down. The funny thing was, he was less concerned with his best friends’ opinions than Rose’s. Her rejection still stung.

  AN HOUR LATER, beside a gas-log fire in Global’s rec room, with Christmas Vacation blaring on the big screen, Colby clinked beer bottles with Brody. “Thanks again, man, for the save. I wasn’t looking forward to becoming a human Popsicle.”

  Brody cracked a smile. “Didn’t look like you were in too much danger of that, judging by the heat you two were generating.”

  “Man…” Colby snorted. “Talk about a failure to communicate. There was one point during the night when I actually thought she could’ve been the one. I mean, we were…” He shook his head. “Then once you guys got there—poof—it was like the woman I met had been a dream.”

  “She’s a dream, all right.” Brody sipped his beer. “Definitely too good for the likes of you.”

  “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

  “You bet.” Brody slapped Colby’s back. “Just doing my part to keep it real.”

  WITH
THE WIND howling outside her beige cell of a bedroom, Rose tried losing herself to sleep, but it refused to come. Her mind kept flashing back to Colby—the wild time they’d shared.

  Was she being rude for hiding out instead of visiting with her new coworkers and the team of brave men who’d rescued her and Colby? Probably.

  But in her defense, this was all too strange. New frozen landscape. New home. New people.

  She must have been operating on adrenaline and now crashed. Her body ached.

  Some of those aches were good, but even a long soak in her new bathroom’s tub hadn’t removed the embarrassing sting of her having come right out and asked Colby for sex. Sure, they lived in a modern age and women’s magazines said such behavior was perfectly acceptable. And for many women it was. But she’d never been that brave. Call her old-fashioned, but she’d also never pictured herself in the role of initiating sexy time.

  She closed her eyes and caught glimpses of Colby freeze-framed in her own private movie. His square-jawed face and sea-green eyes. Those biceps and washboard abs. In the cozy confines of their zipped together sleeping bags, she hadn’t so much as seen him, but felt every inch of his hard body. His rippled stomach and the tree trunks he called arms. He’d probably earned his strength by chopping wood and maintaining his plane—the one now stuck forever at the top of a mountain.

  What would he do without it? Undoubtedly, he had insurance. But still, having been through one minor auto accident that had required her to submit a claim, she knew the next few weeks—maybe months—didn’t hold much fun.

  Her throat tightened.

  In a perfect world, she’d want to be there with him, helping him through his frustration. But if there was one thing she’d learned in her twenty-five years, it was that as beautiful as the world often was, it could also be cruel.

  Her parents—even friends with failed relationships—had shown her that a girl like her would be playing with dynamite to entertain, even for a second, the notion of starting a relationship with Colby.