“You like it?”
Flabbergasted she looks at me, her eyes full of joy. “Like? Christian,” she says, her voice high and excited, even though we’re both tired from an early morning followed by our flight. But seeing the look on her face is worth it. “This place is gorgeous.” I turn to the massive log cabin structure and try to see it through her innocent eyes. I’ve been here so many times, it’s easy to forget the beauty of the place. I take an extra minute to glance around, and take pleasure in the snow-covered peaks. Maize might not be able to ski, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do other outdoor activities, and a few indoor ones too.
I give her hand a little squeeze. “Come on. Let’s go check it out.”
We exit the vehicle and I meet her at the front of the car, where I take her bare hand in mine. I’m pretty sure she didn’t pack gloves, but we’re going to need them, and hats too.
“I can’t believe this place.” She looks up to the dark, star studded sky and breathes in the fresh air. “You come here every year?”
“Yeah. The air is so fresh, much different from California, huh?” She nods, then glances at her feet, her thoughts elsewhere. “What?”
“I don’t know.” She swings my hand. “I guess…” She crinkles her nose. “Does it get lonely?”
I shrug. “There’s a big difference between alone and lonely. I think you’ve realized that I’m a bit of an introvert by now. I don’t mind being here alone, eating alone, skiing alone. Sleeping alone, however…” I tease.
We walk up to the massive carved door, and I tug it open for her, and the warmth from the fire inside bursts over us. But it’s easy to tell from the way her brow is furrowed that she has something on her mind.
“What is it, Maize?” We enter the huge lobby and her steps slow.
“Do you…I mean…have you ever brought anyone here with you before?”
“No. Not here. Not ever. This place is my escape.”
She freezes. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”
I reach for her, touch her shoulders, and give a squeeze to put her at ease. “No, Maize. I want you here with me.” I lean toward her and lightly brush my lips over hers. “I’d rather be here with you than be here alone.” She gives me a worried look, and I shake my head. “I mean it. Now go check out the lobby while I get our room key.”
Her movements are hesitant as she turns and heads toward the huge stone fireplace, a few kids around it, roasting marshmallows. She walks around, looking at the brochures as I head to the check-in counter, my mind going through all the ways I can prove to her just how much I want her here with me. After a fast check-in, I step up behind her and put my hands around her stomach as she reads one of the glossy brochures.
“Find anything good?”
“They have an art museum.” She scoops up a few more pamphlets. “Have you ever been?”
“Nope, but we’ll go, if that’s what you want to do.” The scent of her shampooed hair fills my senses as I breathe her in. “We can do all the things you want to do.”
“What about this ghost tour?”
I shrug. “If you want.”
“No, I’m kind of a chicken,” she says with a chuckle and I pick up the brochure for the snowmobile tours through the mountain.
“What about this?”
“You know how to ride a snowmobile?”
“Yeah, and it would be gorgeous going through the mountains. If your ankle is up for it.”
“It is, but maybe I just want to stay in our room.” She turns and my heart beats just a little bit faster when she goes up on her toes and presses a kiss to my nose. I love seeing her this excited. Up until now, I never knew that pleasing someone else would give me such pleasure. I guess I must be growing up.
“While I like that idea, I want you to enjoy this place. When we get back home, we can stay in our room all we like.” I consider that, and my stomach tightens because yeah, we agreed that she’d go back to her off-campus house when we returned and when did I start thinking of my room as our room. She was packing and getting ready to leave Thursday and I had better get my shit together, because no matter how much I want to keep her with me, she’s not mine. Not really. I grab our bags, and lead her to the elevator. We go to the top floor, and I usher her off and down the hall. The second I open the door to our room, she gasps and looks at me.
“Christian, this is too much,” she blurts out and starts to back up.
I capture her arm and stop her. “This is the room the family always gets. We have a standing reservation for certain times of year, and Thanksgiving is one of those times, but if you don’t like it…”
“Like it?” she says as I drag her inside and shut the door behind us. “I love it. I think it might be bigger than all of Wolf House.”
I laugh. “Not exactly,” I say and head toward
