12. MASON

12

MASON

T he lake was a solid sheet of ice, smooth and hard, with a light dusting of snow on it. The sky was ominously gray overhead, which fit my mood. Down in the valley, Silver Ridge was a twinkling maze of Christmas cheer, and the excitement was thick in the air. Christmas Eve was still a couple of days away, but the town acted like we were having Christmas every fucking day.

I didn’t see the point in celebrating all this shit. It was just a distraction, useless activities that did nothing.

The snow compacted under the weight of my boots as I moved, scanning the area around the lake’s edge. The cold was biting, the kind that sinks into your bones, but it didn’t bother me today. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. Besides, after so many years in the mountains, weathering these storms every year, I was used to it.

I was out here despite the cold. I still wasn’t completely sure, but if Wallace was out there somewhere, I wasn’t about to let my guard down. I couldn’t afford to think that I might have been wrong. Rather be prepared than get caught in a trap I didn’t see coming. It was always better to be overprepared than underprepared, and as a former soldier, I knew all too well that danger could fuck me up the moment I let down my guard.

The wind had started to pick up, whistling through the trees that bordered the lake. When I looked up, storm clouds gathered in the distance, dark and heavy. It would be here in a while, but not yet. Winter storms were a part of life out here in the mountains. Nothing new.

I slowly moved further along the frozen shoreline, scanning the area, when the wind shifted, suddenly stronger, colder. It was as if the storm had snuck up on me, and in the span of a few minutes, it went from a light snowfall to a full-blown blizzard.

What the fuck.

I pulled my collar higher around my neck as the snow whipped against my face. The storm was getting worse—fast. I needed to head back to the cabin before things got real ugly.

The wind howled, cutting through the trees with a ferocity that wasn’t there before, and it sliced through my winter clothes like I wasn’t wearing anything warm. The snow came down so thick now it blurred my vision, turning everything into a white haze. The once familiar path back to the cabin was now hidden under a fresh blanket of snow, and I had to rely on my instincts to guide me.

I knew this landscape like the back of my hand but snow could fuck with anyone’s senses. You could get lost in no time at all if you weren’t careful. I didn’t try to see through the snow. I focused on what I knew instead. That was the only way to—

That’s when I saw her. At first, she was just a hunched figure, almost invisible in the snow, but as I stepped closer, I realized it was Cami struggling against the wind. Her coat was pulled tight around her, but I imagined it did little to shield her from the storm. She was out in the middle of this mess. Clearly, she had no idea how to judge the weather.

But this storm had caught even a seasoned guy like me off guard.

I cursed again.

“Cami!” I shouted over the wind, but my voice was swallowed by the storm. I moved toward her, fighting against the snow already piling up around my boots. Every step away from my cabin was dangerous, but I couldn’t leave her out here. She wouldn’t get out of the storm.

It was too far out of town, and I doubted she knew how to navigate the white landscape wrapped in a blizzard.

“Cami!” I shouted again.

She didn’t see me at first, fighting to keep her footing in the thickening snow. But when I got closer, she looked up, her eyes filled with fear, her face panicked.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” I growled, reaching her side and grabbing her arm to keep her steady.

“I can handle it,” she shot back, her voice sharp despite the howling wind. Her face was still riddled with panic.

“Like hell you can,” I muttered. “This storm’s only going to get worse. Come on. My cabin’s not far.”

“I’m not going to your cabin.”

“Your place is too far away. You won’t make it.”

She glared at me, wanting to fight. Her eyes narrowed, and I could already see her forming the words, but another gust of wind sent her stumbling into me, and I caught her before she hit the ground.

She trembled against me while I held her steady.

“You don’t have a choice,” I barked. It was getting more dangerous by the second. “Let’s go.”

She nodded. The wind whipped around us and it would have taken her words away even if she did argue, but she didn’t fight me on it anymore. Together we made our way back toward the cabin, the storm growing fiercer with every step. I let my knowledge of the area guide me, letting my feet find the way because I couldn’t see shit.

Cami had grabbed my hand at some point, her fingers freezing, and she clung to me. I led her into the forest, and the trees warded off the worst of the storm. The snow still swirled around us, and the wind drove through us as if we didn’t exist, but it was better than the blinding white haze out by the lake.

By the time we reached the door, the snow was falling so thick that I could barely see a few feet in front of me, even between the trees. I pushed the door open, pulling her inside before slamming it shut against the raging wind.

“Fuck it,” I muttered, brushing the snow from my coat and shaking myself before I spun around to face her. “What the hell were you thinking?”

She glared at me, her cheeks flushed from the cold and her eyes spewing fire. “It wasn’t like I was planning on getting caught in a storm, you know. I’m not an idiot.”

I shook my head. “Yeah, well, it’s going to get worse before it gets better. Storm like this? We’re not going anywhere until it clears up.”

The snowstorm outside had turned the cabin into a sanctuary, the wind howling against the walls but I’d built a fire and it was starting to heat up the small front room. I wasn’t used to company. This cabin had been built for one, and it had always been my escape from the world. But here we were. The cabin was small, cozy but not much for decorations. Just the bare essentials.

She unzipped her bag and started digging into it.

“What are you doing?” I watched her dubiously.

“I’m not just going to sit here in this… this cave,” she said, rummaging through her bag. “It’s Christmas , Mason.”

“It’s not fucking Christmas,” I growled. “It’s still a couple of days.”

She shook her head, refusing to see the logic in my statement. “The whole month is Christmas, okay? We need to do something .”

I frowned, leaning back in my chair as I watched her pull out a few things. Decorations. A coiled string of lights. Candles. “Like what?”

“Like making this place feel like Christmas.” She stood with her loot in hand and looked around.

“Oh, no,” I said. “You’re not messing with my place. I don’t want that shit in here. It’s bad enough that the town looks like Christmas threw up all over it.”

She glared at me. “What, are you allergic to holiday cheer or something? I did most of those decorations, you know.”

“I know,” I said coldly.

She narrowed her eyes at me but didn’t shoot back a nasty comment. Instead, she moved around the cabin, stringing the lights across the mantel and placing candles on the table. The glow from the fire mixing with the soft light of the candles cast a warm golden hue over the room. It was… different. Warmer. Softer.

And I didn’t hate it.

“There,” she said, stepping back to admire her work. “It’s not much, but now it feels like Christmas.” She looked proud of herself.

I stared at the lights for a moment, the warmth of the fire seeping into my bones, making me feel warm. It wasn’t just the fire, either. Cami had turned the cabin into something decorative and nice in just a few minutes. I actually liked it.

Fuck if I was going to admit to it, though.

I wasn’t used to feeling anything but the cold out here. I didn’t know what to make of it.

“I’ve never decorated for Christmas,” I said.

“Really?”

“Why would I?”

She looked around. “Because it’s that time of year. About family and togetherness…”

“Not much togetherness here. I live alone.”

She tilted her head, shifting a little closer to the hearth and rubbed her hands together. She was still cold. She wasn’t exactly dressed for a storm like the one that raged outside.

“What about when you were a kid?” she asked.

I shrugged. “That was a long time ago. Not really something I look back on much.”

She frowned but didn’t push it. Instead, she lit another candle and placed it on the windowsill, the flickering light casting shadows on the walls. “Well, now we’re together,” she said softly. “It’s Christmas, Mason. You should try to enjoy it.”

I didn’t respond. I watched her move around the cabin, bringing warmth and decorations and wonder with her. It wasn’t just the fire, or the candles, or the lights that made it seem warm and comfortable. It was… her. Something about her being here, making the place feel less like a cabin in the middle of nowhere and more like a home. And I didn’t hate that, either.

The storm raged on as the sun set, and I dug in my pantry to find something for us to eat. I didn’t have much by way of fancy meals, but I had smoked meat, biscuits, and some fresh produce I’d gotten from the general store.

“Do you always eat like this?” Cami asked, chewing on a piece of venison, looking down at her crudely put-together plate.

We sat by the fire, the storm still raging outside, but inside, it was warm. Comfortable. Cami sat on the couch next to me, her legs curled up beneath her, a blanket draped over her shoulders. I’d brought it from the bedroom for her when it looked like she still couldn’t warm up. The blanket was fur, made from the hares I’d shot over the past couple of weeks.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s not much by way of delicacies but it does the trick.”

“It’s better than I expected,” she said. “Don’t you get sick of always eating the same thing?”

“I don’t always eat the same thing. Every season brings different animals to hunt and different produce to buy. It changes year round.”

“Hmm.” We fell into a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound between us.

“I used to love Christmas,” she said, chewing on a biscuit. “Back when I lived in Denver. My family would always get together. I’d decorate the house, plan these big parties… It was my thing, you know? Everyone left it to me because they knew how much I loved it, and I went all out every year.”

“You’re serious about it,” I said.

She blinked at me. “Well, yeah.”

“I didn’t mean it sarcastically,” I corrected quickly. “Just an observation.”

She nodded, her face softening again. “I really do love it. I loved it enough to make a business out of it. My company was one of the hardest things to leave behind, you know? I built it from the ground up, creating something out of nothing, and there’s a certain sentimentality that comes with that.”

The firelight flickered across her face as she spoke, and she was beautiful. Soulful eyes, kissable lips… But there was a sadness about her, a heaviness I hadn’t noticed before.

“Why’d you leave?” I asked. “If it meant that much to you…”

She sighed, staring into the fire. “The life I’d been dreaming of, the life I’d thought I had… It wasn’t what I thought it was. I was betrayed and it was like my whole life fell apart overnight.”

“I can relate to that.”

“Yeah?” She looked up at me with those eyes, and God, if I wasn’t careful, I could fall into them.

I nodded. “I know all about being betrayed by those you trust the most.”

“It hurts like a bitch,” she said flatly.

“You can say that again.”

I saw a different side of Cami now that we were alone, with the world unable to reach us. She wasn’t the feisty firecracker, ready for a fight at every turn the way I’d thought she was at first. She acted the way she did to protect herself. Pain could be disguised as something else.

A wounded animal could look like a ferocious monster when it tried to protect itself, and humans weren’t much different.

We just used words instead of actions, snapped instead of biting, argued and fought instead of growling and retreating. I knew what it was like to carry the kind of pain she did—feeling like the world had turned on you. I’d lived with that feeling for years.

“I came here to start over,” she said, looking into the fire. “I wanted to build something new after I’d lost everything, and I figured I might as well do it here as anywhere.” She looked at me again.

“I get that,” I said.

She smiled and stretched, and I was very aware of her breasts, the way her back arched, pushing her delicate frame toward me. My cock punched up in my pants.

Behave , I scolded myself. I hadn’t brought her to my cabin to sleep with her.

But fuck, I wanted to.

“Enough of my whining and complaining.” She said it lightly, trying to make what she’d told me off as nothing-much. “Tell me about you. Why are you out here? How does someone end up in the mountains all alone?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t used to talking about myself. Hell, I wasn’t used to talking much at all. The most conversation I had was with Tanner and even then we were mostly quiet together.

She’d shared her life with me, though. It felt right to do the same. What else was I going to do? Besides, her eyes searched mine, her face open and eager to find out, and I wanted to talk to her. To give her something in return.

What the hell is going on with you?

“I wasn’t always alone,” I started. “I used to be part of a team. I was a part of a special task force while I served in the army. We were close—brothers, really. I didn’t have much family at home, and they became like family to me. We worked together, slept under the stars together, faced danger and even death together.”

I didn’t tell her the details—about Wallace, the betrayal, the mission that went sideways. But she didn’t push. She just listened, her gaze soft and understanding.

“I guess nothing good lasts forever, right? One of our team members was a bad apple and, well, shit hit the fan. In a bad way. I had to get out, and I ended up here. I’m out here to survive.”

She nodded slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Losing something that was so important to you. It’s horrible.”

I shrugged. “It happens. No use crying about the past. It won’t change anything.”

“No, I guess it won’t,” she said softly, looking down at her now-empty plate.

I took it from her and put our two plates in the sink to clean later.

“I have wine,” I said.

Her face lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t go bad, you know? It can stay in the pantry forever, and, well, that’s what it’s been doing.”

She laughed and the sound was pure and beautiful. Her face was bright and in the light of the fire she looked like an angel.

“I don’t have wine glasses,” I admitted. “Just cups.”

“Wine in a cup is better, anyway,” she said. “You get to pour more and no one tells you it’s wrong.”

I snorted. “There’s no one here to tell you you’re wrong, anyway. I sure as shit won’t.”

She smiled at me, and I took out the bottle of wine I’d bought years ago. I opened it and poured the wine into coffee mugs, filling them almost to the top.

I walked back to the couch and handed her one, and she sipped the wine.

“Definitely better in a cup,” she said with a smile.

I sipped it, and the whole picture in front of me was crazy. A beautiful woman, a cup of wine, a cabin decorated for Christmas.

What the hell was this alternate reality I seemed to have fallen into?

But the truth was, I liked it. I wouldn’t tell Cami, but for the first time since before I enlisted, it felt like Christmas and I realized I’d actually missed it.