Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

R ae

My butt hits the padded chair next to Hutton and I'm not sure I can get back on my feet, even if bribed with all the sugar in the town of Snowhaven. Thirty children, a hearing-impaired pianist, and a handful of busybody mamas trying to squint their eyes to see who sat at the back of the theater is enough to fray any woman's nerves to the point of breaking.

"Let's give Rae-Rae a second, huh?" Hutton stands to swoop up Henry as he waves his arms wildly to get my attention. He wants me to watch his reenactment of the toy soldier part I'd given him. The boy is actually quite good up there on the stage, coming out of his shy shell in front of an audience, but I've gone through the part with him at least ten times since I announced practice over and I just don't have an eleventh in me.

I lift my gaze to see the most handsome man my eyes have ever laid upon, holding the cutest little boy I didn't know I needed in my life. They make a deadly combination, boyish charm and sinful muscles. Both sport a dimple on their left cheek that could seduce the panties off Ada, the pianist whose eyesight is about as bad as her hearing.

"That was…" I trail off, not sure how to put it into words. Missing a few days of practice due to the storm is definitely not having a positive effect on the kids' performance. If anything, they spent those two days eating sugar cookies laced with cocaine instead of practicing their parts.

Hutton puts Henry down and helps him into his coat. Then he turns to me and holds out both hands. I lay my palms against his and let him tug me upward. I whimper at being upright again and he laughs. The groan of pain turns into a groan of pleasure when he rubs those big hands on top of my shoulders and neck, melting away the tension with just a few squeezes.

"Come on, sugar. Let's go to the lodge and get our suitcases. Then we'll head home and I can see about running you a bath." He tilts his head. "Or maybe I keep my room at the lodge and see if they have a spa?"

I grin, thinking of Morgana. "No spa yet. They're building one at the hunting lodge, though. Morgana's been complaining about it for years."

Hutton takes my hand in his, Henry naturally falling into place on his other side as we trek out of the theater and to his truck. He gets the truck started and the heater blasting while he buckles Henry into the car seat in back. Then he gets in and turns toward me before pulling out onto the road.

"I noticed something about the musical."

I wince. "What? The fact that no one knew their lines? Or that Ada played the wrong song for each of the scenes?"

He dips his head in acknowledgement about both facts, but doesn't drop his study of my face. "Yes, but also that there are no backdrops. Why haven't you used your artistic skills to paint elaborate scenes that go with the play? The various curtains that switched out are nice, but I bet you could elevate the scenery by a thousand percent."

My head flops back on the headrest. What is with today? Why are all my insecurities coming out to play in front of the one man I want them hidden from? He's a household name with access to the type of bank account I can only dream about, travels the world, and rubs elbows with A-list celebrities. Surely my little problems aren't that fascinating to him, so why does he keep poking into my life?

"I don't want the musical to be about me. It needs to highlight the kids."

Hutton gets that playful look in his eye that tells me he's about to grin from ear to ear or throw his head back in a laugh. "Did you hear the same musical I heard, sugar? Because that was truly awful in the best way. I think it could use some incredible backdrops. Think about it."

I shrug, not wanting to admit the whole production is a little lackluster. Or that I'm scared to display my art so publicly in front of the town I grew up in. We still have two weeks to get things in shape before the big night. Our little town doesn't have enough resources to put on a fancy version of The Nutcracker . If you want professional actors, head on down to San Francisco or over to Seattle for that. We like our production to be authentic and raw. Really, really raw.

"It's mostly just the musical numbers that need help. Ada's over eighty years old, after all, and gets a little confused. And our drummer is only eight. He mostly likes to smash the drums, not keep a rhythm."

Hutton winced. "I noticed."

"I might just use recordings, tell the kids to lip sync, and call it good enough," I sigh, feeling like I'm not cut out for this. Not cut out for much, honestly.

He reaches over the console to hold my hand. "You know you're talking to a professional musician, right? You can't Milli Vanilli your way out of this. Santa would put you on the naughty list."

Henry gasped from the back seat. "Rae-Rae's not naughty!"

I twist in my seat to grin at my little champion. "Thanks, Henry. And you're right. I'm not naughty."

"Too bad," Hutton whispers out of the side of his mouth.

My fingernails bite into his hand. He huffs a laugh and pulls his arm back, letting me go. "I'm just saying, I can help. Give me a couple practices and your ears won't be bleeding anymore. I guarantee it."

My eyes narrow as I study him. He's good, I'll give him that. Arguably one of the best musicians in the country, but this might be a tall order even for him. Then again, what could it hurt? It's not like the musical numbers could get any less atrocious. And him helping out sounds like he's planning on staying around a bit longer.

"You're on, drummer boy."

His grin is nothing short of downright mischievous, a matching pair to his son's look when he thinks I don't see him licking the sugar nookie icing off his fingers. Hutton takes off, driving carefully to the Havenkirk Lodge and parking under the porte cochère. We all hop out and Ingrid greets us at the door.

"Welcome back, Mr. Calder. I was worried you got caught in the snow, but my son assured me you got caught in something else."

My face flushes at the implication of what he got caught up in. Hutton, unbothered and back to his flirting ways, puts his arms around her shoulders and guides her back into the lodge. "Now, Ingrid, darlin', you must start calling me Hutton. How else will I convince Aksel that we're dating?"

"Oh!" Ingrid swats at his chest, but doesn't make a move to dislodge his arm around her.

I roll my eyes and look down at Henry. "You ready to get your suitcase and dinosaurs?"

"Yes!" he shouts, tugging on my hand and dragging me to the elevators.

"Hey, you guys." Morgana hurries to my side, wagging her eyebrows up and down as she looks between me and Hutton, who is still flirting with Ingrid. I hadn't realized until just this moment how much his public and private persona differed. The man is an outrageous flirt, a fact the press loves. But behind the walls of my house, he's respectful, kind, and not the least bit affected by his celebrity status. "You're in time for Snowmass!"

I dip my head at Henry, who's now hugging my leg and peeking up at Morgana shyly. "We're just grabbing clothes."

Morgana folds her arms across her chest and gives me a dirty look. "I know you don't normally do all the Snowmass activities, but you have a little one attached to you who'd love it!" She crouches down and lowers her voice. "How about it, Henry? You wanna paint some ornaments? The girls would love to have you join them and most of our guests have left already, so it would just be a small group."

Henry looks up at me, his little eyes wide. I give him a smile. "If you want to paint, we can stay a bit longer."

He grins and it's a done deal. Hopefully I haven't misspoken, but then again, if Hutton wanted a say in our plans, he should have been over here instead of flirting with Ingrid. Not that I'm jealous of a seventy-year-old woman. That would be crazy.

"Yay!" Morgana stands and holds out her hand. Henry takes it and the two walk off toward the side door. Morgana looks over her shoulder. "There's also sleigh rides out front if you and Hutton prefer that Snowmass activity." Then she winks at me and her tinkling laughter trails down the hallway. They disappear outside and Hutton suddenly joins my side, staring down at the empty hallway.

"What just happened?"

I turn to him, seeing the flirtatious smile is gone. Which should bother me, but doesn't. I actually like that he doesn't give me that practiced grin he gives out so freely to everyone else.

"We're doing Snowmass apparently."

Hutton furrows his eyebrows but doesn't hesitate. He tucks my hand in the crook of his arm and marches me outside where the sleigh and two chestnut-brown horses have pulled up. A few couples exit the sleigh and the horses whinny, tossing their heads and ringing the festive bells draped over them. The driver tips his hat with a jolly smile aimed our way.

"Hop in, folks. If you see a tree you want while we're out, just holler."

"Oh no, we don't need a?—"

"Thanks, we will," Hutton says over me, pushing on my lower back to get me into the sleigh.

I grab the metal sides and pull myself up. Hutton follows, tucking the provided thick blanket over our laps. No other couples are waiting outside the lodge, so after a few more moments, the driver clicks his tongue and the horses take off. The sleigh is surprisingly comfortable, and with Hutton's arm around me and the blanket covering our legs, I'm not even chilly.

The countryside goes by, covered in a thick layer of snow. Tree branches are weighed down with the white stuff, looking like a holiday painting of an idyllic white Christmas. Gentle hills add some speed to the ride on the downhills, and as we glide over the snow, Hutton dips his head to nuzzle his nose against my neck.

"I'm starting to really like this Snowmass thing," he murmurs, pressing his lips just below my ear. Shivers wrack my body and not from the cold air.

I sigh, turning my face so that our lips brush. "Me too."

Hutton deepens the kiss, his hand coming up to cup my jaw. Sparks fly under my eyelids. This might be one of the most romantic moments of my life, getting kissed by the hot singer in a sleigh ride at Christmastime. Funny though, all I wish for is to be back home and snuggled in my bed together. Just us. No prying eyes. No forced flirting with every female in sight. Not the celebrity Hutton, but the one who wears a T-shirt for the third day in a row and doesn't even complain.

All too soon, Hutton pulls his mouth from mine, his eyes heated to a liquid gold. "Tell me why you haven't liked Christmas before?"

I fake a smile like I always do when this subject comes up. "Sure you want to know? It's not exactly festive."

His thumb sweeps across my cheek. "If it's about you, I want to know."

I lick my lips and feel like a goddess when his hungry gaze tracks the movement. "My mom died when I was nineteen. Then I dated my ex and he didn't care for Christmas. So we never decorated the place, and then when we divorced, it just seemed like a lot of hubbub for just one person."

I shrug like it's no big deal, but a part of me has always missed those Christmases with Mom. Even as a struggling single mother, she always made the holidays warm and happy and perfect. The nostalgia of all things Christmas makes my heart ache every year as I watch everyone else celebrate.

Hutton drops a chaste kiss on my lips, his eyes taking on a different warmth. "Well, you're not alone this Christmas, sugar."

He lets go of my face and calls out to the driver. "We found a tree!"

"Whoa…" The driver immediately pulls on the reins and the horses bring the sleigh to a halt by the forest that rings Aksel's ski runs. We're close to the stream he and Morgana tried to make me go ice plunging in last year. Thankfully, I faked a cold and got out of it.

Hutton turns to me with a grin. "Come on. Let's go cut down our tree."

Doc: Hey, I just went to buy my Nutcracker ticket. The lady at city hall told me they've only sold five tickets this year. And that includes mine.

Mayor Nancy Haney: WHAT??

Dagny: Probably because we've been too busy hosting all the celebrities for the wedding.

Janna: Might be for the best. The practices have been…rough.

John Ross: I have faith you and Rae will whip those kids into shape.

Chief Blade: Jesus, John. We don't whip kids here in Snowhaven.

Doc: I think what he means is that we'll have a good performance with a little more practice. We just need to sell some tickets so it's worth it.

Mayor Nancy Haney: What is going on with this town? We are ALL about Christmas. You're telling me we can't sell a measly one hundred tickets to THE musical of the season??

Dagny: Maybe if we had a better mayor…

Janna: Oof. Shots fired.

Chief Blade: Ladies. Don't make me put you in the same cell again. Last time you scared all the kids with your screeching.

Mayor Nancy Haney: Wait. I have an idea.

Dagny: Oh boy…