1. Ethan

Chapter 1

Ethan

I was never big on Christmas. Everything is too happy and too bright and too loud. Shops close, people go on holidays, the celebration spirit takes over… It makes my job harder. Yet here I am, stuck in a fancy hotel on Christmas week with nothing to do.

My brother, Charlie, will have a field day when he hears.

I prop my ass against the side of the nearest couch and look out the window, where a hint of condensation has already accumulated. Plains of pure white dominate the landscape as the snow keeps falling in massive rags. It’s tranquil. And it looks cold. Too cold. Retrieving my phone from the pocket of my custom-tailored dress pants, I look at the time. Five minutes have passed since the receptionist went off to make a call to the village hall hoping to sort out my predicament. I’m starting to get antsy.

“Mr. Ward?” the middle-aged woman with the half-shaven head says upon her return, aiming a sympathetic smile my way. “I’m afraid we won’t be able to get a car up here until the roads get cleared. The sheriff said that unless it stops snowing soon, it might take a while.”

I thumb my phone unlocked and press on the weather app. The forecast for this area of Canada’s Northern Rocky Mountains is more snow for the foreseeable future.

Amazing .

“Can we get a helicopter to pick me up?”

Her smile drops a notch, her green eyes growing even more apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Ward. For safety reasons, everything is grounded until the conditions improve.”

The snow keeps falling outside, adding to the uniformity of the white on this side of the mountain resort. I can’t even tell where the narrow road off this godforsaken place is anymore. I should’ve never come here. And not just because I packed lightly. Or, well, didn’t really pack, save for a couple pairs of socks and underwear. I was meant to be in and out as quickly as possible. The private jet I hired is waiting at the airport, scheduled to take me back to Miami in the evening. I was going to sleep on the way home.

I sigh, rubbing my temples. It doesn’t look like that’s happening. It’s very bleak outside with the snow continuing to fall.

The Christmas song playing over the speakers in the lobby ends. The forecast follows, promising more snow for the next four or five days, and then the radio host informs us that the small resort village of North Hut is currently cut off from the rest of the world. Edmonton authorities are working to plow through the obscene amount of snow and make the roads accessible, but the weather is waving the middle finger at them.

Fuck my life. I need coffee.

“Thanks. Keep me updated if the situation changes, please.”

She smiles, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “Of course, Mr. Ward. And the North Paradise Hotel will do everything in our power to make your stay with us as pleasant as possible. Despite the unfortunate weather, our Christmas activities and program will take place as planned. Make sure to sign up for the ones that you are interested in.”

I take the laminated brochure she hands me and head toward the hotel’s restaurant. I can’t believe I got stuck here of all places. Winter and I have a complicated relationship and the only reason I set foot in this icy part of the world instead of a warm beach down south is the business deal with Keiv Robotics. As the CEO of Ward Security, having the tech giant partner with us is a massive opportunity I can’t pass on. But then the universe decided to play a shitty joke on me. The representatives’ flight got delayed due to the weather conditions, so by the time they arrived, the roads were closed and they couldn’t even make it here.

Talk about a waste of a trip.

Tuning out the unfortunately catchy Christmas song the radio blasts, I approach the restaurant’s bar. Other than coffee, I am craving something sweet to go with my double espresso. But I’m not a breakfast person and have no idea what I want, so I’ll take the chef’s recommendation.

Speaking of the chef…

The guy manning the bar beams at me, his entire face smiling. He looks like he’s having a great day, despite our dire circumstances, but I let it pass. He has nice eyes. They are a rich brown that leans toward whiskey. The crown of wild black curls that frame his angular face make them pop.

“Hi there. What can I get you?” he asks in a smooth but slightly hoarse voice. It rushes right through me, making my skin tingle.

I claim a stool and lean my forearms on the counter. “A double espresso. And something sweet.”

He hums, rolling up the sleeves of his white uniform. His arms look nice, really nice. “Someone’s feeling adventurous, I see.” He dusts off his black apron, but I don’t catch his name embroidered above the hotel’s logo. “Allergies?”

“None that I know of.”

Still smiling at me, he crosses his arms and pins me with his intense gaze. I feel like a specimen under a microscope. But there’s really nothing interesting about me. Ethan Ward is just your typical hard-working CEO. When I’m not busy running my multibillion-dollar company, I hit the gym or pretend I know how to switch off and enjoy downtime. I do look good—both me and my brother take after our mother. Blue eyes, dark hair, full lips and straight noses. I’m a little bigger and taller than him, but similarly, putting on muscle has never been that easy for me.

“One mysterious breakfast with a double espresso coming right up, then,” the guy says and gets to work.

I watch the muscles along his arms flex and unflex. The motion is mesmerizing. I bet he’s strong. Maybe he works out too… or is it just the kitchen work that keeps him fit?

I reel back a heartbeat later. What was this? Whether this guy works out or not is none of my business.

The coffee machine is behind him, so he turns his back to me. His hands are quick and nimble, setting the cup and coffee beans and then pressing buttons until the hot liquid starts coming out of the machine. The aroma hits me immediately, waking up my tastebuds as anticipation for the bitter flavor spreads inside my mouth. I’ve had an awful morning so far, and this is exactly what I need.

Bar Guy scurries away from the machine to the glass display with croissants and muffins next to it. He takes out an uncut pastry and places it on the wooden board on his side of the counter. It’s right across from me.

“This is a blueberry and lemon-flaked cream cheese pastry. It’s a new recipe.” He grabs a nearby serrated knife and carefully begins cutting.

His forearm muscles ripple with the motion, too prominent and sculpted to be the result of just kitchen work. I wonder again if he exercises. Letting my eyes roam his form, I look for the telltales. His uniform makes it impossible to tell how fit he is, but if I had to guess, and judging by his arms, he must have a lot more luck retaining muscle than I do.

“Is that a good idea? Feeding one of your hotel’s VIP guests something you haven’t served before?” I challenge, arching an eyebrow.

He hums, flashing me a sly smile. “Oh, so you are a VIP guest? Even better. You get to try something that will blow your mind before anyone else.”

I stifle a snort. Is he flirting with me or is he just the cocky type? It’s a little hard to say.

“What’s your name?” I ask, not taking my eyes off him as he plates the pastry and retrieves the now full cup of coffee.

He sets both in front of me and leans back against the cupboards behind him. His curly mop of hair bobs with the motion. It’s a little messy, but not in a bad way. It looks fluffy too and I bet it feels soft to the touch. My fingers suddenly itch to run through it and find out.

“I’m Jake,” he says, narrowing his eyes knowingly. A tremor rushes down my spine as his smile grows and lifts the right corner of his full lips a little higher. “And who are you, Mr. VIP Guest?” When I don’t reply immediately, he grabs a few napkins and places them along with a knife and a fork next to my plate. “Or is a mere chef-in-training not allowed to ask?”

I’m fighting off another silly noise. What nonsense is he saying? He’s strange. Maybe a little ridiculous even. But it’s kind of fun, I suppose.

“I’m Ethan,” I say, offering him my hand. “Ward Security.”

We shake hands. His hold is firm but gentle. His fingers have calluses and cuts unlike my smooth ones. I guess it makes sense for a chef.

“Oh, yeah. I know about you,” he says when we let go. Grabbing a cloth, he begins polishing the glasses sitting on the tray by the drawer with the cutlery. “You are here for some meeting. But I heard the other party couldn’t make it because of the snow.”

As if I needed a reminder. “Yes. Unfortunately, the meeting has been postponed until the situation is resolved.” I also can’t really do work even if I have my laptop as most of my responsibilities involve meeting with potential clients or partners in person to negotiate deals.

“That must suck. But, hey, look on the bright side.” He spreads his arms wide. “You are here already, so you might as well enjoy your improvised holiday. The hotel’s Christmas Program is one of the best in the whole country.”

Yeah, no, I don’t think so. I’m sure I’ll find a way to get some work done even if that seems unlikely right now. I’m nothing if not persistent.

“I’ll think about it,” I say out of politeness and take a bite from the pastry.

My eyes go a little wide. It’s really good. The mix of sweetness and the tang from the lemon and blueberry tickle my taste buds. Add to that the bitterness of the coffee and the boost the caffeine gives me, and I’m suddenly feeling invigorated.

My gaze meets that of Jake, who’s retreated back a bit to give me some privacy. He smiles openly, and just like that I know he knows his pastry has hit the mark.

“Enjoy,” he mouths and winks at me, before picking up the tray of polished glasses and disappearing into the kitchen.

I nurse my coffee slowly, enjoying the rich flavor. Another guy replaces Jake at the bar. He’s more reserved, smiling politely when he tidies away my plate and cup. I don’t linger.

After a quick call to my PA, Jenny, I go back to my room. All my appointments for this week have been rescheduled by the time I turn my laptop on. Jenny has even postponed the few calls that I had. I frown at the screen, then glance out the window at the smoke coming from the chimneys of the village houses down the hill. This really feels like an impromptu holiday.

The only problem?

I’m not exactly sure what to do with all this free time. But I have to figure something out or I’m sure I’ll go crazy.

The first thing that comes to mind is the suite’s jacuzzi. I’m a little underdressed since I didn’t pack, so it’s a great way to warm up. Long bath ticked off my holiday agenda, I turn on the TV. Everything is Christmas reruns or musicals, so five minutes later I’m back down at the hotel lobby, sitting with my head in my palms and wondering what the fuck I am going to do for an entire week.

I eye the cup of instant coffee I made at my suite and took with me. It’s only been a few hours since I got stuck here, but I’m already buzzing. I need something to do, some crisis to solve or some deal to make. I’m so desperate I even call Jenny again, demanding she gives me something to do.

“Not happening, Ethan. I was trying to figure out how to force you to take some time off, so this is perfect! I contacted Edmonton and the nearby towns. They said that with the current weather, the earliest they can get the roads cleared or a helicopter in the air is a couple of days. So, put on a Christmas sweater and enjoy the festivities. I’ve emailed you all the activities you can do at the hotel and the village. Have fun. I’ll see you in a week. Bye,” she says in her chirpy voice and hangs up.

I groan. Excellent. This is just what I needed. I’m begging my PA for some work, and she doesn’t want to give me any. Someone please save me. Like, seriously. What do I even do with so much free time?

Coffee cup in hand, I lean into the leather armchair I’ve claimed in the lobby and watch the other hotel guests as they meander about. There are families with noisy kids, but also couples and those who have come alone. Everyone sort of blends together, dull and unimpressive, like the non-player-controlled characters in the video games Charlie plays. They are there, but they are part of the environment. Still, even though they are stuck here like me and despite not being particularly attention-grabbing, they all look like they are having a good time.

Sighing, I try to remember some of the stuff I enjoyed doing before I took over the company from dad. I’m sure there were a few things, even if I’m currently drawing a blank. I just need to find out what they were.

Unfortunately, that proves harder than I’d have imagined. Even after close to an hour, I’m still at square one. Plus, I’ve already gone through the materials for the meeting with Keiv, even though that won’t be happening until I’m back in Miami. I spent all of yesterday doing that and I know everything by heart.

Maybe I can try calling Jenny again… But she’s a stubborn woman, I know she won’t budge. I eye my phone. I’m at the end of my rope, so surely, she will take pity on me.

Ten minutes later, it becomes clear that she won’t. She even threatens to resign if I don’t stop bugging her. I’d be lost without her, so I’m forced to agree.

I rub my temples and scan the lobby. I’m desperate. I’m going to die of boredom. I need something to do. A distraction to keep me from losing my mind.

A bark of laughter snatches my attention. It rings across the entire room, light and sexy, and my body sort of absorbs it, sending a pleasant thrill down my spine. It takes me only a moment to find the source of the titillating sound, and when I do, my stomach does a tiny flip.

Okay, count me vaguely intrigued.

Taking a sip from my shitty coffee, I settle more comfortably into the armchair and observe. Jake walks out of the restaurant, clad in his white uniform and black apron. He’s talking to someone animatedly, unconcerned with my borderline stalker behavior as I let my eyes feast on him. He does look good, even more so now that I can see all of him without the bar obstructing my view. And he is definitely fit; it wasn’t just my imagination.

Jake waves at the people he’s talking to and turns around. He looks my way as if he knows exactly where I am sitting. Or maybe he can feel my stare? Our gazes clash, my heart skipping a beat as the world slows down and I lose track of my surroundings. He crosses his arms and tilts his head, playfully raising one eyebrow as if in challenge. And then a sultry smile settles on his face as he heads right toward me.