Holiday with You - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,5

swirls of snow circle my rental car. I’m inside a snow globe someone shook without asking me if it’d be okay.

The four-hour drive to Winter Valley takes a lot longer. The fear of crashing and dying nearly suffocates me. Every muscle in my body crunches itself.

After the longest drive ever, my phone GPS directs me to the next exit. Just when I’m sure the torture is over, the voice says, “Continue for seven miles.”

I have to drive for another seven miles along a narrow road. Stephen King should take notes and write Road to Perdition: The Drive of Doomsday. I should’ve told Mom goodbye.

I hit a patch of ice.

The car skids and spins out of control.

This is it.

I knew it.

This is how it all ends. I’ll slide into a ditch where no one will find my body until this winter wonderland thaws.

When the car slams against something, I hold on to the wheel and scream until the airbags blow, pushing me back into the seat. My lungs contract with such force I’m afraid they might fold into themselves. The car has spun so many times that, when the door opens, I'm disoriented.

"Are you okay?" someone asks smoothly, the baritone of his voice reverberating through my bones. The low rumble is comforting, and I could listen to it all day.

When I look up, I understand why his silky words felt like a warm hug. I’m in heaven, and St. Peter is the most gorgeous angel I’ve ever come across. Not that I met any while I was among the living.

This over six-foot, blue-eyed hunk with chiseled features stares at me with concern.

“Can you hear me?” He bends over, studying my face. “What is your name?”

I frown because he’s talking too slowly. Is he okay?

“How old are you?” he continues and then flashes the light of his cell phone.

I flinch and move away. “What are you doing?”

“Do you know where you are?” His last question sounds perfectly normal.

“I’m heading to Winter Valley,” I answer, getting out of the car. “Not sure if the place is real, but according to my GPS, I should be there soon.”

“It’s past eight.” He gives me a head-to-toe glance. “Who in their right mind would be driving so late at night?”

You are. But I don’t say that. And who thinks eight is late at night? What kind of place have I landed in?

“I was supposed to be here by five,” I defend. “At this point, I don’t even know if I have a place to stay.”

When I look at the smashed rental, I want to cry. Why did I decline the insurance? Because Aurora would take the extra expense out of my pay.

Is my insurance going to cover this?

The guy glares at me. So much for being concerned about my well-being. If looks could kill, I’d be with the real St. Peter right about now.

“Hey, can you pick me up and bring the big tow truck with you?” he grumbles into his phone. “Yeah well, a unicorn ran over my truck while I was heading home. That’s the kind of week I’m having. I wouldn’t be surprised if a leprechaun attacks me in my sleep.”

Frozen. I’m absolutely frozen. My mind works fast, trying to understand how ridiculous I must look in this outfit. His heavy-lidded gaze assesses me. I feel him examining every inch of my fur-covered body.

Note to self: never travel in a onesie again in case you make another gorgeous man fear for his life from a five-foot-four unicorn. I don’t even attempt to smile at my inner humor. Mr. Unicorn Hater looks way too angry for that.

“Just hurry up, Morgan,” he orders in his deep strong voice. “We don’t have all night.”

Chapter Four

Colin

“Come back to Colorado, Colin. It’ll be easier to move your business here,” they said.

“We will help you with Perry,” they assured me.

“Housing is cheap,” they insisted.

I’m a contractor, but I no longer own one of New York’s most prominent construction companies. Six months of the year, my parents live in Arizona. Juggling Perry, work, and life since they left in late September has been almost impossible. But I can’t argue with the housing market. The rent is cheap, and the lot I bought to build our house on was a steal.

Perry is doing better than I thought, but I wish my sisters and Mom were around.

Being the only contractor in the area is good for business, but not when I have to drive in the middle of a big storm. Exhibit