Release Date: Out Now
Available: Love Lane Books
This title was previously published with
Silver Publishing in 2011. The story has been re-written with additional scenes
amounting to 10,000 additional words with new cover art and re-editing.
Blurb:
For Jesse Connor, Christmas is nothing but a
series of bad memories. It takes a man imbued with the spirit of Christmas to
help him realize that the Christmas spirit lies in everyone--if they only know
where to look.
For photographer Jesse Connor, Christmas lost it's shine when last
Christmas, Jesse's lover, the man he thought had been the one, absconded with
millions of dollars from the company he traded for. The FBI landed on Jesse's
doorstep on Christmas Eve, and that was the nail in the proverbial Christmas
coffin.
Now, alone in the city, facing another Christmas with nothing more
than apathy, he's offered a chance to see Christmas in a different light.
Can the residents of Eden Vale, and in particular a man called
Gabriel, show him that Christmas, and love, can live inside everyone, despite
hurtful pasts?
Excerpt:
Welcome to
Eden Vale, Vermont
Winner of Best
Christmas Small Town**
2009
(**For towns with
populations under 1200)
* * * * *
Prologue
~Two Years Ago~
The end when it came
was utterly brutal and sudden. One minute Jesse Connor was planning the most
romantic way to propose to his boyfriend of three years, the next said
boyfriend was gone. And not just gone in a ‘popped out for a coffee’ way. But
gone in an ‘emptying closets and trashing the place’ kind of way. Even the
original Jesse Connor prints on their bedroom wall were gone, removed from the
frame with the frames themselves stacked haphazardly against the wall.
Everything Jesse felt
about the season was wrapped up in this particular Christmas, the day he was
going to ask Jonah to marry him. He had the tree and the decorations and all
the perfectly chosen and appropriate presents organized. He even had the damn
platinum ring burning a hole in his pocket.
And now everything had
gone to hell.
“Sir, you’ll need to
come with us.” Jesse spun on his heel. There was a cop standing inside his
apartment, feet straddling the threshold between bedroom and main living room.
This was a joke. Any minute now the cop would strip off and give him a lap
dance and everything would be revealed to be one huge joke.
“I think I’ve been
burgled,” Jesse murmured. He felt icy cold; the window wide open to the outside
air was letting in gusts of snow every so often. The snow landed on the
widescreen TV, which lay on its side with half of its guts hanging out, and
melted immediately.
“Sir, we have some
questions. Please come with us.”
“Where?” was all Jesse
could ask. “Outside?” He was in a daze. Where was Jonah? Why was the TV
destroyed? Where had his photos gone? Why was all of Jonah’s stuff not in the
closet?
“The FBI are waiting
in the hall, sir.”
“What? Sorry, what?”
“Sir, you’ll need to
come with us,” another cop said. Where had he come from? Jesse blinked at them
both.
“What are you doing
here? Where’s Jonah?”
“We’re hoping you will
tell us that, sir.” This time it was a different voice belonging to a man in a
cheap suit with frown lines bracketing his eyes who stepped in past the cops.
“I don’t know.” Jesse
pulled out his cell again, but checking it for the hundredth time wasn’t going
to change the fact that there was no new message from Jonah. “Maybe he’s
delayed at the bank?” Jesse offered.
“We both know that is
unlikely,” the Fed said with a scowl. “He’s not going to return to the scene of
a crime.”
Cops in his apartment.
And now Jonah was being accused of something. And Jonah had gone. The music in
the apartment next door started up, signaling the fact that Henrietta who
worked in marketing at the same company as Jonah had arrived home. The strains
of Christmas music wound their way through the walls and into Jesse’s hearing.
“He’s supposed to be
here. We were due to go to the ballet. I had tickets.” Jesse looked at the
decorated tree that lay on its side, then back at the empty frames, and finally
he faced the cops in his and Jonah’s apartment.
“I’ll need your cell
phone, sir.” The Fed held out his hand.
“Will it help you find
Jonah?” Jesse asked uncertainly.
“I surely hope so,”
the Fed answered brusquely.
“What did he do?
What’s happened? I don’t…”
The Fed was talking to
the cops, telling them not to let anyone in, instructing them that Jonah may
well be desperate and try anything at this moment in time.
Jesse followed the Fed
numbly out into the hallway. The door to Henrietta’s apartment was open, and
she stood in the doorway with a stunned expression on her face. Her eyes were
bright and she was crying.
“Oh my God, Jesse,”
she said as Jesse came to a stop in front of her.
“Henrietta? Are you
okay? What’s happened?”
“It’s Jonah. He’s
taken down the whole bank.” She put a hand to her mouth. “He’s wiped millions
in trading. It’s all over the news, he’s destroyed us.”
“I don’t understand?”
“Did you know?” she
shouted. Jesse stumbled back against the wall as she advanced on him with
horror in her eyes.
The Fed moved between
them. “Sir, you need to come with me.” Jesse saw one of the cops nod, and in a
few seconds he was bundled out of the building and into a cop car.
When he got home,
twenty-four hours had passed and Jesse’s world had been destroyed. He tore the
tree to small pieces and threw the gifts in the garbage.
And he promised
himself one thing. Never again would he fall so far in love that he was blinded
by it.
Chapter 1
~This Christmas~
“Your apathy is
getting serious, and you have deadlines, Jesse.”
The words repeated on
an audio loop in his head. Emma meant well. As his agent she had a
responsibility to keep him in line. God knows he hadn’t been the best client
over the last year.
“I get why you’re
angry,” he hedged in the vain hope he would placate her.
“You agreed to this
contract, Jesse. The photos for their website are important to them and are
central to their whole Christmas marketing campaign.”
“I know, Emma—”
“They’re paying good
money for Jesse Connor’s work, and let’s face it, your accounts are running on
empty now. Eden Vale may be the only thing that gets you inspired.”
He argued so hard. He
used to love Christmas. The expectation and the uplifting joy that people
carried around with them was so intrinsic to the memories he had of the season
before two years ago. Now though? Well now, in his opinion, Christmas was
something he wanted to forget, winter was cold, and in fact every damn thing
connected to the season sucked. Emma had been so patient listening to
everything he said and then passed him the leaflet that signed his death
warrant. That is what it was. A damned document to screw him over in life’s
shitty path. So sue him if he was being melodramatic, but his response was a
well-thought-out curse word that made Emma narrow her eyes in a flash of
temper.
“Is there a problem,
Jesse? You know you are only getting away with this artistic bullshit because
the clients are desperate for the work of the Jesse Connor.”
Her words had created
a curious mix of gratitude and fear in him. Something as simple as a client
still wanting him actually seemed more like a noose around his neck.
“Yes, there’s a
goddamn problem with all of it. This is simple. I can’t do it, Emma. I don’t
have the passion I need for creating art, let alone have anything to do with
Christmas. That isn’t some random statement. I really can’t give them what they
want.”
“Jesse—”
“No, Em, I know you
are trying to help, but I don’t feel Christmas. Not in a single cell of my
body.” He pushed every raw emotion he had into the simple words. She ignored
him and instead changed the subject back to the visit to Christmas-ville.
“The first event in
Eden Vale is three days away, Jesse. I booked you a room from tomorrow, right
through December, up until the third of January.”
“What the hell? I
thought you were joking.” Jesse sat forward. “I said no, and I meant it. You
have to get me out of this contract, tell them I was drunk when I signed it.
Because I sure as hell am not going to freaking Vermont.”
Emma crossed her arms
over her chest. “You are going. The newspaper has hired you and wants to bring
Christmas to their website viewers, and they want it to be a Jesse Connor
Christmas.”
“Shit, Emma—”
“The deal is done, and
it’s your only option. You knew what you were doing when you signed the
contract—”
“I needed the
advance—”
“Which you now can’t
pay back, right?”
She was right. That
ten thousand dollars was enough to pay the rent on his place and keep him in
food for a few months. He needed a job of some sort to keep him going after
that.
“I hear McDonald’s is
hiring,” he snapped.
“Yeah, I can see the
headlines now. Jesse Connor, former award-winning photographer and ex of the
imprisoned Jonah Miles et cetera, millions lost and so on, has hit rock bottom
tossing burgers.” She wasn’t trying to be cruel, but every word hit home. Only
Emma could get away with some of the brutal honesty she could dish out.
“Fuck, Emma.”
“Consider this an
intervention, Jesse. Pack a bag and get the hell away from the City. Leave your
memories here and take my car.”
“Your car?”
She had dangled the
keys to her cherry red, and eminently sensible, Prius. He hated that damn car,
too small, too stifling, and too much like hard work. In fact, he hated
driving. There was a reason he had always loved the city where you get from A
to B without wedging yourself in a tin can.
“I’m not just your
agent, okay? I’m your friend, Jesse.” She crossed to where he sat and wrapped
her arms around him from behind. “The Prius will get you to Eden Vale, and I
paid for a room in a small hotel there as an early Christmas present. The paper
wants a photo a day from the first of December to the twenty-fifth for their
website with short copy for each. Now go.”
Jesse was left with no
arguments to counter the near-military precision with which his agent forced
him to leave New York. Dammit but she was good at her job. It was go to
freaking Christmas-ville or fight with Emma to get a reference from her so he
could apply to McDonald’s or to stock shelves at Walmart.
And now he was sitting
in the damned Prius in the mountains at God knows what point on his journey,
and his resentment was near bubbling over. He pulled over to let a van pass on
the narrow road, and the moment’s respite was filled with the hurt that flooded
him that Emma, his friend, had him by the balls. His best friend—his only friend—yet
she consigned him to the middle of freaking nowhere in her damn tin can of a
car. His life really couldn’t get any worse. He’d had his heart broken by a
thieving scheming fucker of a boyfriend, lost all his money, mislaid his muse
on a permanent basis, and now it seemed like he was going deep into the Green
Mountains of Vermont to a small town in the Mount Snow Valley, population
proudly displayed as 1,007, called Eden Vale. Where, allegedly, he was going to
find Christmas.
The town was at the
end of a winding valley road that seemed too narrow at some points for two
vehicles to pass at the same time. The rural mountainous countryside would have
appeared pretty, even stunning, to anyone other than Jesse. He desperately
needed coffee, but he doubted the inhabitants of this place had ever visited a
Starbucks, let alone had one on the small Main Street. The town itself, as he
passed through it, was nothing more than a cliché—a couple of chain grocery
stores, a gas station, and a beauty parlor advertising discount for the
under-twelves. For a moment, Jesse pitied any kids being stuck here so far from
civilization.
“…predicted at least
five inches…skiing center that has opened a new…”
The radio was
intermittently spitting out sections of news interspersed with lame attempts at
Christmas music, a mix of carols and pop songs from the seventies. Emma hadn’t
told him her CD player was on the blink, and despite searching, he hadn’t found
a jack for his iPod. The farther into the mountain he climbed, the worse the
reception became, but turning off the radio was impossible as the damn thing
was broken. Taking his eyes off the road, let alone hoping to stop somewhere,
was inadvisable. If he stopped, he would be blocking the damn road. His
satellite navigation, courtesy of his cell, had also decided to fritz out on
him, and he hoped the damn hotel was easy to find.
“…stay safe folks and
here is ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ by the wonderful Mariah Carey…”
Great. Just great.
Torture me with that!
The Eden Vale Hotel
was almost exactly what Jesse was expecting. Like something out of a Hallmark
Christmas film, the small building looked old and was nestled firmly against
the hillside above the valley and probably had awesome views of the diminutive
nowhere town. Jesse sighed. Emma had said it was small… Clearly she hadn’t been
lying about that. He stopped the Prius outside the main door in the parking
space, and with the engine off, the radio thankfully cut Mariah’s vocals short.
Inhaling and glancing
to his left, he took in a vista of the town sprawling before him. Most trees
were bare of leaves, but some held tight to gold and were stubbornly clinging
to autumn. The road here was steep, cut up into the sides of the valley, and it
really wasn’t surprising that the population was as low as a thousand souls
given how remote it seemed, though intellectually he knew Wilmington, with its
bars and entertainment, wasn’t that far. Maybe he should consider visiting and
even taking up skiing? He shuddered. That meant willingly exposing himself to
snow, and that was never going to make it on to his to-do list. There weren’t
many buildings on this side of the valley, and what he could see were sparse
and spread out—dwellings clinging tenaciously to this ass-end valley exit from Mount
Snow. Each place was separated geographically by challenging terrain, and it
was easy to admit that, if a person wanted quieter rural appeal, then Eden Vale
would be perfect.
He stepped out of the
car and pulled out his two bags and the suitcase on wheels. The cold of an
early winter wind gusted around him, and he shrugged lower into his jacket.
Coffee. He needed coffee, possibly reinforced with whiskey.
The lobby was empty,
although to call it a lobby was a slight exaggeration. The desk was small and
off to one side and was full to bursting with leaflets and notices; he skimmed
the closest of them as he dinged the small bell for attention. Apparently the
local moms’ group was meeting in the school auditorium, Jenny Absolom was
calling for volunteers for a church fundraiser, and the carol concert was at
seven pm on Christmas Eve. The list of events, from candle-making
to—jeez—midnight carols, was just a little bit too much “joining in” for his
liking.
“Hello, Mr Connor. You
found us, then.” The chirpy bright voice matched the chirpy bright woman
walking around him to stand behind the desk.
“Yes.” Jesse wasn’t
entirely sure what else to add to that. He completed the formalities, the whole
time checking out the person who was explaining in rapid fire about amenities
and rooms. Looking like—and he hated thinking this—a storybook grandma, she was
taking his details, talking, and laughing all at the same time. Short and slim
with dark blonde hair, she seemed to radiate happiness along with an obvious
desire to please.
Okay, so it was a
little full-on, and Jesse, to be fair, was tired, but he couldn’t help but
exchange a smile when she said she was showing him to his room. She was simply
infectious and the welcome was…welcoming.
“You’ll be in number
twelve, our scarlet room,” Mrs McClurey—call me Diana—informed him. “Be careful
with the door. It sticks sometimes. Always remember to turn the tap off fully,
and if you want anything, please dial zero on your room phone.”
“Thank you” was all he
could manage as his day began to catch up with him.
Diana chatted away as
she showed him to his room. Opening the door with a flourish, she stood to one
side to usher him in. He entered the room and put his bags on the floor. “We
have a snow warning out tonight. We may have a beautiful carpet of white when
you wake up tomorrow.”
Great, Jesse thought.
The Prius would need clearing, and he was bound to fall on his ass. Snow and
Jesse meant an inevitable accident. He hid his irritation behind a smile and
said nothing.
It was darkening
outside as evening pulled in, and he was a long way past tired into
tripping-over-exhausted after hours of driving. He glanced around the room,
seeing that the size of it was a step down from his apartment.
“Would you like a
sandwich in your room? Or you can join us for dinner in the dining room at
seven.” Mrs McClurey, sorry, Diana, was hovering with a smile on her face.
Taking four hours to just get out of New York had not formed a particularly
good start to this whole chasing Christmas thing, but he’d had snacks in the
car, and he was way more tired than hungry.
“No, thank you. I’m
really not hungry, and it’s been a long journey. I plan on catching up on
sleep.” Unintentionally, he punctuated the words with a wide yawn behind his
hand, but thankfully, she didn’t question why he was yawning and ready for bed
so early in the evening. Clearly she had guests who arrived exhausted and just
needed sleep.
Diana could certainly
talk. She continued talking, and Jesse found himself mesmerized by the air of
energy around her and her piercing blue eyes.
“Once we had twenty
inches of snow in one night; it broke county records for Eden Vale. For
tomorrow they’re forecasting about five. My son will be here to clear the
pathways in the morning, so you don’t need to worry about slipping right
outside the hotel.” Jesse didn’t like to ask if this son was going to clear a
whole passage from here to town. She sighed. “It’s a real shame the snow has to
be cleared, but if you wake up early, it’s beautiful nature untouched by human
hand.”
Jesse made an
appropriate noise of agreement, the spark of an idea for the first photo in his
head. Nature untouched by human hand. Tried and true it might be, but taking a
shot of virgin snow would get him a few days ahead of himself. He had three
days before the first shot needed to be posted to the blog with copy. No
pressure, then. Finally, after some more sighing over the wonderful
possibilities of beautiful snow, Diana left and pulled the door shut. He
glanced around the room as soon as he was on his own.
It really was nothing
fancy to look at, no high-tech appliances like TVs or stereos, not even a
coffee maker. The room held old, mismatched furniture that looked to be made of
various different woods, but his artist’s eye admitted it held a certain charm.
The drapes he pulled across the windows were a vivid striped scarlet and gold.
He guessed they were the reason for the name of the room, and thanked the
heavens he wasn’t in a bedroom called the orange paisley room.
After stripping, he
pulled on jersey shorts, then brushed his teeth in the small bathroom, admiring
the huge claw-foot tub set to one side. No shower, but he could get into long
lazy soaks. He tumbled onto the queen-sized bed, sprawling diagonally, and the
bed groaned and creaked under his movement. He wasn’t a huge guy, but this was
clearly an old bed that probably wasn’t going to take his weight, let alone the
weight of two people. He and a boyfriend, for example.
Oh yeah, he’d
forgotten. I don’t have one of those, do I?
Not for the first time
in the last two years, a familiar anger rose in him, and it was a welcome
emotion. Anger grounded him. He should never forget what Jonah had done to him,
let alone the thousands of people involved in the fall of the investment
company he worked for.
He closed his eyes and
tried for sleep, although it didn’t seem to want to come to him quickly.
Instead, his head was full of what-ifs and maybes, of the threat of snow and
ice and a wind chill to freeze his balls.
The proposal to
photograph and write on the theme of the biggest damn holiday of the year was
so open to interpretation he could write anything and capture any image. But he
couldn’t imagine what might possibly inspire him this Christmas.
Jonah was supposed to
have been his Valentine, his Thanksgiving, and his Christmas rolled into one.
The idea of making new December memories with the man he’d loved had seemed so
bright. But what Jonah had done to him had killed any thoughts of making
memories that mattered stone dead.
Doing what he did
best, he pushed past the memories and made a list in his head and then
concentrated on Post One for the website blog post, which he labeled
“Expectation” in his head. What did a picture-postcard Christmas-themed town
need first? Diana was right. Snow. Maybe he should get some photos of the first
snow before the son arrived to clear it in the morning. That would make a
suitable first page. He could always cobble words together, try and recall what
Christmas before Jonah’s betrayal had been like. Maybe he could copy/paste
something from somewhere. Mentioning virginal white and the promise of
Christmas were words he could copy from any old Christmas website. He set his
cell alarm for a little before seven, ten minutes before sunrise, and then
checked his messages. There was a text from Emma asking if the Grinch had
arrived in Christmas-ville yet, and he sent back a brief here in response.
No sense in sending
anything else. She wouldn’t expect a lengthy response from him. She was his agent,
and he was Jesse Connor. He was an artist; he wasn’t going to waste his
precious time or hers on unnecessary words. He winced at his internal
monologue. Who the hell do I think I am?
Sighing, he closed his
eyes. Emma was his only connection to anything remotely resembling a friend
now. He’d pushed everyone else away with his misery and his remoteness, oh and
the fact the world and his freaking wife wanted a piece of him because of
Jonah. Opening his eyes, he grumbled as he reached for the cell and sent her
another message.
Hotel nice. I’m fine.
He even added a smiley face after he recalled the keys he needed to press to
make one. It took him a while to find the close bracket symbol. Not a good
start.
Satisfied he had done
enough to stop her worrying, he put his cell down and lay back to stare at the
high ceiling. Then he began to count back from hundred and waited for sleep to
chase him down.
Chapter 2
Gabriel McClurey
stamped the snow from his boots on the porch before pushing his way into the
warm kitchen. His mom didn’t immediately turn to face him, busy as she was with
coffee. Given it was still dark outside, coffee would be welcome and might go
some way toward waking him up. He yawned behind his hand and caught sympathy in
his mom’s eyes when she faced him.
She handed him the
coffee and kissed him on the cheek. “How deep is it?”
“Enough so I left the
Jeep at the bottom of the drive.”
“They said five
inches.”
Gabriel huffed. “More
like twenty in the drifts and the end of the drive is completely blocked.”
“I appreciate you
coming to help,” Diana said with a smile.
He knew she’d probably
been up as long as him, busying herself around the small hotel, and he didn’t
begrudge coming up early to clear the worst of the snow from the front of the
place. This place was family owned and he had as much of a stake in it as she
did, but she’d never once said anything when he announced he was going to
become a teacher. Just like when he’d told her and his dad that he was gay at
the tender age of thirteen. His mom lived by the motto that life was all about
being committed to something that made you happy.
Being a teacher made
Gabriel happy.
Living here in this
small town in the mountains of Vermont made Gabriel happy. Add in a warm
kitchen, his mom’s dark, hot coffee, and snow and he was pretty satisfied with
life.
“Did you get through
to Kane?”
Gabriel sighed. The
only thing he and his mom disagreed on was the subject of his ex-boyfriend.
Five years together and now three years apart and still Diana insisted Gabriel
invite Kane up for Christmas.
“Like I said, Mom,
he’s got a new boyfriend now, and he’s spending Christmas in London with him.”
Diane pursed her lips
in thought. “Maybe he’ll come visit in the New Year,” she said.
“You do know he’s my
ex, right?” Gabriel teased.
Diana smiled. “Of
course I do, but he’s still your friend and I liked him a lot. I’ve been
thinking about that anyway.”
“About what?” Gabriel
hated it when his mom was all thinking about things. It never boded well for
Gabriel when he was the focus of her thoughts.
“About a boyfriend,”
she began. Gabriel opened his mouth to interrupt, but she waved a finger under
his nose. Hell, it was way too early for this. “You’re not going to meet anyone
in Eden Vale. You need to spend much more time in the city.”
Gabriel started to say
something again, but his mom quickly continued.
“I don’t mean there, I
mean New York or San Francisco or LA or something.”
“Mom, I am not touring
the country looking for a boyfriend.” He smiled in disbelief.
“Your dad wouldn’t
want you alone,” she added with bright eyes.
Jeez, now she was
pulling the dad card on him.
“Dad wouldn’t want me
trawling bars looking for a man,” Gabriel offered gently. “Anyway, how am I
supposed to get out of town now?” He gestured at the door. “My Jeep would be
unlikely to make it off the mountain, let alone into a city. Speaking of
which…” He stood and shrugged on his thick coat before pulling on heavy-duty
gloves, a beanie, and winding a scarf around his face. “Snow isn’t gonna clear
itself,” he mumbled into the wool.
He escaped before he
had to listen to any more boyfriend advice. He and his mom were close, but this
time of the year she grew melancholy with memories of his dad who had passed
six years before, and wanted everyone to be happy.
Contemplating where to
start with the snow clearing, he was pleased to see the soft lightening of the
sky as dawn broke over the mountain. That would make it easier to clear the
snow in the right places. For a second he simply stood and looked out over the
snow that lay pristine and untouched apart from his footprints on the driveway.
Seemed a shame to
destroy such beauty, but he knew his mom had guests at the moment, and he was a
good son.
As he began to shovel
he hummed to himself, something the kids had been working on at school, and he
soon got into a rhythm of movement that had the snow piling softly to the side
of the walkway.
His mom was wrong.
Gabriel was happy. Lonely maybe, but always happy.
* * * * *
Jesse woke at the
seven am alarm he had set on his cell and washed up at the sink, eyeing the
bath longingly. Later, he promised himself and then dressed in jeans and layers
from T’s to sweaters. With the drapes open, he realized Diana and the US
Weather Service had been right. The snow had certainly fallen overnight, and
the start of light over the valley had a beautiful quality. The early morning
dawn appeared feeble against the sea of white and highlighted the absolute and
utter stillness. Pulling on boots and then grabbing his Nikon, he left his room
in a hurry and made it downstairs in record time. Throwing open the front door,
he was ready to jump into his work, already in artist-makes-brilliant-art mode,
and he had exactly what he wanted. Undisturbed snow lying just as it
should—deep and crisp and even.
“Morning.” The single
word came from a man shoveling snow, Jesse’s pristine untouched snow. There
went the whole first freaking post. Obviously the guy had started clearing in
the dark. What kind of an idiot did that? Shit.
“Stop,” Jesse said
loudly—probably not what Mr Dressed-as-a-snowman expected, even though he did,
in fact, stop shoveling.
“I’m sorry?” he
queried. He pulled at the scarf across his face and frowned at Jesse, then down
at the cleared snow.
“I need photos,” Jesse
explained as he turned away from a quick glimpse of blue eyes and raised
eyebrows. Already he was looking desperately for an untouched angle that
included the hotel. Damn it to hell, the son had cleared a great big scar on the
blanket of icy stuff.
“Photos of…?”
“Virgin snow. Can you
please stop shoveling?” Panic filtered through him at the thought of not
getting this photo now, and it wiped out any attempt he might make at social
niceties. Yes, he was coming across as rude, but in his head, he justified the
rudeness as he always did. Artists were temperamental, and people made
exceptions for his behavior all the time.
“I can give you five,”
Shovel Guy said slowly and leaned on the tool he wielded with such deadly
photo-destroying accuracy.
Jesse vaguely nodded
his thanks, his mind already gauging light and angles, concentrating on what he
needed to do. The white carpet covered everything, giving him maybe three
inches or so of perfect utter stillness. Even the parked Prius had a beauty
about it when hidden in pure white. He inhaled the cold air and centered
himself. He could do this. The snow might well be the first official photo he
had taken in a while, but it wasn’t as if he’d forgotten how to take photos or
how to frame a shot. Snow crystals sparkled in the winter trees, and the clouds
looked heavy with the promise of more of the cold stuff to come. Despite the
sun’s weak wash, the lighting was perfect, and focusing on what he wanted, he
caught the crystal, the blue tinge from the early light, the sky, and the
taller grass that bent with the weight of snow. Backing away from the parking
area, he captured one of the stubborn trees he had seen yesterday and the
frozen leaves attached to thin twigs, all perfectly acceptable images for the
website.
“You the photographer,
then?” the shoveling guy asked. Jesse groaned to himself. Talk about stating
the obvious. What a thing to say. Not only that, but the guy probably expected
an answer. Shovel Guy, the hotel owner’s son presumably, had a low and husky
voice, but Jesse didn’t want or need interruptions if he only had five minutes
to capture a whole post. The more photos he took, the more likely it was that
he would take a photo that mattered. Perhaps if he ignored the other man, he
would shut up. “Do you want to see something?” Shovel Guy asked. “A ways up the
garden is an old shed. It’s where we store the wood for the winter—”
“No, that’s fine,”
Jesse interrupted with an abrupt wave of his hand. Maybe the man clearing the
path was a sandwich short of a picnic. Why the hell did he think Jesse wanted
to see a shed? Jesse bent low at the waist to examine the petals of some winter
flower burned at the edges by the sun and filled with small deposits of snow.
The tall tree it was near must have protected it from the really deep stuff.
“It’s a good photo.”
God, the guy was
persistent. “Jeez, man, will you leave me alone to concentrate?”
Jesse spun on his heel
to face the guy as he spoke, the same guy who had now pushed the hood of his
huge parka away from his face. Jesse wasn’t sure who was more shocked—the guy
who looked utterly gobsmacked at what Jesse had just said or Jesse at seeing
more face. Jesse couldn’t stop himself, photos or no, post or not. He stared.
And he probably had his mouth open. It certainly felt like it as the cold air
hit his throat. Shovel Guy was gorgeous, beautiful, with a strong
stubble-darkened jaw and the same brilliant blue eyes as Diana.
“Sorry, I was…” Jesse
began weakly, but he really had no explanation. Hell. Those were really
intensely cerulean eyes. Blue Eyes shrugged at the apology and then smiled. He
took off a glove and held out his bare hand, a warm, wide, and very strong hand
that gripped Jesse’s firmly.
“Gabriel McClurey,” he
said, introducing himself on the shake.
“Jesse Connor,” Jesse
responded quickly. “I get involved,” he explained weakly with a wave of his
now-freed hand at the snow around them. “In a world of my own.” Then he stopped
talking because he didn’t want to come across as an idiot.
“I need to get
shoveling,” Gabriel said finally to break the uncomfortable silence. Jesse
realized he’d been standing there staring with his mouth open. “Shed’s up that
way if you want to go yourself.”
Gabriel dismissed him.
He was sending him off to find the shed himself. Damn. Eye candy like Gabriel
McClurey was something he didn’t want to lose sight of.
“Could you show me—”
“Sorry, man, I need to
shovel,” Gabriel said quickly. He pulled the scarf back over his mouth. Clearly
the conversation was over.
“Okay,” Jesse said
reluctantly. “Thanks.”
Gabriel resumed the
long sweeping motions that cleared the pathway, and Jesse hovered for a while
out of sight. He took a few shots of the tall, broad, blue-eyed Gabriel bent
over and flexing to clear snow. Gabriel was too wrapped up for Jesse to see
what he wanted to see, but a few photos of “man in action” would be okay.
Wouldn’t it? Who was to know? He wasn’t taking them for the blog, just for
himself. Ass up in the air, Gabriel moved to attack a new path of white. God.
Now that was an easy part of body to see; jeans molded Gabriel to like a second
skin, stretched across a firm, tight butt. Feeling suddenly guilty, Jesse slunk
away in the direction indicated. For the first time in nearly two years he was appreciating
the male form, and it felt odd and more than slightly like a betrayal of his
wish to wallow in angst.
Still, he hadn’t seen
a man that gorgeous since… Well, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen someone with a
face so model perfect. Said man had a wonderful white smile, long thick lashes,
and cheekbones to die for. Jesse wondered idly if maybe he could get this
Gabriel to pose for him before he left Eden Vale. Maybe naked in the snow?
Jesse had done some model photography before. In Gabriel’s case it didn’t
matter what the body was like under the clothes because that face could sell
just about anything. Idly he wondered what exactly the rest of Gabriel looked
like under that bulky parka. Gabriel was tall, maybe a shade over Jesse’s five
ten, but he could be any size width-ways under the navy blue down. Jesse
laughed to himself. Gabriel could be a six-stone weakling under the coat,
although somehow he doubted it.
The shed north of the
old hotel looked to have been built the same time as the house. It was sturdy
in the way wooden structures were when supported by the presence of the solid
hillside rocks above them. Jesse could see moss on the corners of the roof
peeking through the mantle of snow. He checked out the shed from different
angles and took some halfway decent shots of snow on the old wood. Still, the
shots were simply decent, and he wasn’t going to rock the world of photography
at this rate.
Cautiously, Jesse
pushed open the door. A light dusting of snow fell onto his hands, and he made
a mental note to dig out the thin insulated gloves that allowed him to have
full control of the delicate cameras he used.
Once inside, his
imagination was captured instantly and tingles traversed his spine. From this
vantage point, he saw the snow outside framed by the door and frosted windows.
No snow had made its way inside, and the respite from the cold proved welcome.
He did a complete three-sixty and finally realized that if he stood behind the
wood inside and crouched down, he had the perfect picture—the logs piled ready
for burning with the glow of white snowfall behind them. It was artistic and
exactly what customers expected from him. He already had words to accompany the
picture he could see in his mind…the supply ready and waiting to keep the inhabitants
of the hotel warm and cozy, the scent of sap and freshly chopped wood redolent
of winter. Readers would eat it up.
He explored a bit more
of the gardens and shot a few of the hotel with the rest of the town laid out
before it. The valley was steeper than he remembered from his drive up. If
there were to be much more snow, driving out of the valley in the Prius would
be impossible. Well, he’d known that. The hotel literature clearly pointed out
that snow closed off Eden Vale at least once a year. The town sprawled across
the vista, filled with houses all painted in different colors. He focused on
one in particular, a small house in a row of similar places painted the same
blue as the beautiful, dazzling, sexy McClurey eyes. Well, Gabriel McClurey’s
anyway. He lifted the camera and zoomed in to focus close on the single house,
framing the shot with branches heavy with snow. Sweet.
An hour after he’d
begun, he finally wondered if Gabriel would still be in front of the hotel. His
reasons for wanting to see the other man were twofold. He needed to thank him
for the inspiration for post one and maybe at the same time have another look
at that beautiful face. He wasn’t in luck. Gabriel had gone. In his place sat a
cleared pathway from hotel to street and snow piled neatly to either side in
regimented rows. Damn.
