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M/M, Contemporary Christmas Romance [Coming Nov 21, 2024 / 3,600 Words] Apple / BN / Kobo / SW / All Buy Links When a blizzard strands Colby halfway up a mountain, the timing could hardly be worse. He's supposed to spend Christmas with his family—not trapped in a cabin with his best friend, snowed in without electricity or a safe path into the city. At least he and Pierce have everything they need to survive the inclement weather: food, firewood, and an old iron stove to keep them warm. Now Colby just needs to sort out the soft new signals his heart keeps sending him, before Pierce catches on. 
Colby wonders what might have happened, if he and Pierce had gotten themselves on the road this morning when they originally intended, bright and early and just past sunrise. The path down the mountain would certainly have been clear then, but would it have stayed that way long enough to safely reach the base of the mountain? It seems just as plausible that they might've gotten stranded halfway down, caught in a snow drift or buried beneath the heavy snowfall that started around noon and hasn't let up even now, hours later. And if they had made it all the way into town, what then? Before the cabin's internet went out, Pierce checked for local updates and discovered the unexpected blizzard has closed down the whole city. Highways blocked off, transportation shut down, schools canceled. Local hotels are probably overwhelmed with travelers trapped by road closures and delayed flights, even with those same logistical problems slowing the usual influx of holiday travelers to a trickle. No one will be reaching lodges or ski slopes today. Christmas is four days off, but the storm that's blown in might very well keep the area scrambling into the new year, as far as tourism is concerned. All-in-all, Colby decides to be glad of their luck instead of annoyed at his best friend for delaying their departure. He's grateful to be riding out the storm in a cozy and well-stocked cabin—even one isolated halfway up a mountain—rather than scrambling to remember a few summer camps' worth of survival training out in the middle of a potentially deadly storm. But he's still annoyed. The weather outside is a shrieking, gusting, miserable chaos of white-out conditions. And after a pleasant two weeks in this cabin, enjoying the winter scenery while simultaneously helping Pierce do a truckload of maintenance and prep work, Colby is ready to go home. Of course, he's extra glad now for all the prep work they just finished. It was meant to be for the benefit of Pierce's Great Aunt Lucia, who owns the cabin—so that she could come just after Christmas and stay the rest of the winter through. Everything's conveniently laid in for her: a well-stocked pantry, a slightly less ambitious wine cellar, a nearly endless supply of chopped wood ready for the old iron stove in the living room. Colby hates chopping wood. More than once, he tried to convince Pierce it was silly to fill the entire back porch with logs split by hand, when this rustic-looking little cabin has all modern amenities, including a brand-new furnace. But Pierce insisted, and Colby was being paid to help, despite his initial efforts to convince Pierce that a free mountain vacation would be payment enough—and now Colby is very glad for all the wood they've laid by. Even with the furnace running, they've had a fire going in the stove all day. The extra warmth offers pleasant contrast to the icy draft sneaking in from outside. "After the storm is done, how long do you think it will take them to plow the roads up this far?" Colby asks, as he transfers his clothes from washer to dryer. He needs clean laundry if they're staying past the intended final day of their visit. "Oh, ages," Pierce answers, aggressively cheerful as always. Colby usually appreciates his best friend's unflappable demeanor—a perfect counterbalance to Colby's own tendency toward cranky impatience—but it's difficult to tolerate in a moment like this one. Pierce continues, as though this is no big deal, "Last time a storm this bad blew through, Aunt Lucia was snowed in for twelve days. That was almost a decade ago, though. Maybe they've gotten better at clearing the snow since then." Colby won't bet on it. He's never had Pierce's talent for harnessing the power of sheer stubborn optimism. He slams the top of the dryer too hard, fuming without a target and hating how the aimlessness of his rage only seems to make it worse. He's supposed to be in Minnesota with his family for Christmas. He hasn't seen them in months, and his irrational anxiety brain is starting to tell him his little nephews won't remember him. Studying abroad for grad school is all well and good—especially when it comes to doing finicky research for his thesis—but there are days he misses his family so much his chest hurts. "Hey," Pierce says more softly. Colby ignores him in favor of setting the dial on the dryer. He knows he's being petty. This isn't Pierce's fault, and in fact Pierce's inability to stick to a schedule might literally have saved their lives today, if Colby is going to be extremely dramatic about the whole thing. But he doesn't care. "Hey," Pierce insists, and his hand curls around Colby's biceps, tugging him around as the dryer begins to rumble. "I'm sorry. I know this sucks. If I could get you safely on a plane back to Minnesota right now I would." The tension in Colby's shoulders loosens, and he closes his eyes. It's really not Pierce's fault they're in this situation. No one foresaw the way the weather would turn. He should be grateful he's ensconced in a cozy cabin with his closest friend, not on his own and surrounded by throngs of other waylaid travelers trapped at the airport. He's got no classes he's missing, no job to worry about, and he's already updated his parents and siblings about the situation, so they won't worry over his failure to turn up for Christmas. When Colby opens his eyes, he finds Pierce studying him with disconcerting intensity. Pierce stands a full inch shorter than Colby, which means crowded close as he is, he's got his head tilted back to peer into Colby's face. He wears an expression so earnest and worried that Colby immediately feels guilty for sulking. "I'm sorry too," Colby says, not sure if he means for his attitude or the broader situation they find themselves in. "I can't imagine you wanted to spend the holiday stuck up a mountain with me." Pierce's face does something complicated—a quick flicker of reaction, there and gone again so fast that Colby doesn't even make a start at deciphering it before Pierce's habitual reckless grin returns—and he shrugs one shoulder before finally letting go of Colby's arm. "I can think of worse places to be for Christmas," Pierce says. "Come on. If we're not going anywhere, we might as well figure out lunch." Apple / BN / Kobo / SW / All Buy Links |
Cover design by Yolande Kleinn ISBN 978-1-946316-51-6 |