Some Kind of Wonderful: A Holiday Novella (The Cupcake Lovers) (7 page)

“No snow at all?” Maya exclaimed. “Yeah. … Okay. … No. We’re fine. Just checking in. So … are you having fun with Adam?” she asked in a near whisper. “Wow. No, I mean, great. … Yeah. We’ll see you at dinner. Can’t wait.” She disconnected and glanced to the skies. “Please, God, don’t strike me down.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not
really
looking forward to seeing G with Adam. It sounds like they really hit it off. She’s having a blast. No complications. No concerns. Why is it always so easy for her?”

“Maybe it’s because she doesn’t run as deep as you.”

“There’s more to G than meets the eye.”

“You don’t have to defend your friend to me, Maya. That wasn’t a judgment on her personality. Just saying some people are more sensitive than others. Life’s harder for those who wear their hearts on their sleeves.”

“I don’t—”

“You do. That’s why I’m reluctant to make love to you.” He hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but there it was. “I’m not ready for where it would lead. And I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why does it have to lead anywhere?” she said, sounding annoyed. “Why can’t it just be great sex? Scratch the itch, as you put it. Satisfy our curiosity and then go back to being friends.”

“You’re not built like that and you know it. Hell, I’m not built like that. Not when it comes to you.”

He shouldn’t have kissed her. He should have buried his impulses and ignored the mounting sexual tension. Instead, he’d indulged and now he was paying the price. He was pretty sure he loved Maya in a way that promised, or at least threatened, heartbreak. If he gave in to this, if he committed his all, and if he ever lost her … If she fell prey to an ailment or accident or, worse, malicious harm … He didn’t think he could handle that.

He’d always thought himself impervious—until Ben had been cut down in front of his eyes. Not only had Zach failed to protect his partner; he’d been unable to save him. Worse, he’d been unable to carry the man’s lifeless body safely down the mountain.

“Now I know what Helen and Giselle meant by ‘broody,’” Maya said. “You’re doing it now. Brooding. If the thought of sleeping with me troubles you so deeply—”

“For God’s sake, Maya. I shoot people for a living.”

“
Bad
people,” she clarified. “And not anymore.”

“Whether those soldiers or terrorists were
bad
depends on whose side you’re on. And just because I’m retired, that doesn’t erase my past. What I’ve seen. What I’ve done. As for the future … I can’t promise I won’t pursue an equally deadly profession. Or at least one that involves some form of violence. Do you really want to be a part of that? To live with that on a daily basis? You wouldn’t be able to stomach it. Not even the thought of it. One of us has to be the realist here.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you just pegged me as a flaky wimp and focus on your military background. You did what you did in order to protect civilians from harm. To combat evil. The intent would be the same if you were a policeman or security officer or, heck, a bodyguard.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life. That’s part of the problem.”

“You’re welcome to stay with me in Orlando while you figure it out.”

Instead of warming Zach, the offer struck him cold, making him feel useless and unfocused. “Soak in the sun while you peddle cupcakes and whimsical fantasies?” He blew out a breath, cocked his head. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. You’ve done an amazing job with Cupcakes & Dreamscapes. You’re a talented baker and astute businesswoman. I just … I can’t see us meshing. Not long-term. Not in a romantic sense.”

“That’s too bad,” Maya said, looking at him with an equal dose of pity and frustration. “Because I can.”

Zach’s heart jerked and the earth shook.

No.
That would be the Hummer ramming into a roadblock.

Zach automatically shielded Maya with an outstretched arm as she lurched forward on impact.

Thank God, he’d been crawling at minimum speed. The hit hadn’t been intense enough for the air bags to deploy, but it had shaken the occupants all the same. Zach looked into Maya’s stunned-wide eyes. “You okay?”

She nodded. “You?”

“I’m good.”

“Happened so fast I didn’t even have time to scream,” Maya said in a choked voice. “What did we hit?” She squinted through the windshield into the blinding snow. “Please tell me it’s not a deer or moose.”

“I think it’s a felled tree.” Hard to tell in the near-whiteout conditions. “Sit tight.”

Zach bundled up and swung out of the vehicle, his booted feet sinking a good six inches into the mounting snow. The wind whipped and the snowflakes stung. The swirling flurries put Zach in the mind of a snow tornado. How could this storm not be on anyone’s radar? Chin down, he shoved forward, inspecting the Hummer and a massive downed maple camouflaged by several inches of snow. He looked ahead and then behind them. “Damn.”

Kicking into survival mode, he made his way to Maya’s side.

She rolled down the window, squinting against the wind and snow. “A tree?”

“Yeah. And it’s not going anywhere.”

“What about us?”

“Not in the Hummer. Blocked in front. Snowed in from behind. According to the map and GPS, Marx’s cabin should be just up and around the bend. We’ll have to hoof it. Wait out the storm there.”

“What if he won’t let us inside?”

“He will.”

“But—”

“He will.” Zach had lived through too much to be intimidated by the “business end” of a hunting rifle. They’d weather this freak storm in the safety and warmth of Marx’s cabin. Of that, Zach had no doubt. “Bundle up good. I’ll grab some supplies from the back.”

“We have to take the Cupcake Lovers Christmas basket,” she said while looping her scarf around her neck. “That’s why we came up here after all. To spread goodwill and cheer.”

“Whether Marx wants it or not.”

“One of these days Roscoe Marx will be touched by something or someone and he’ll see the light.” She smiled softly. At Zach. “There’s hope for every Scrooge.”

Chapter Nine

“I can’t believe you kept our snowshoes all these years,” Maya yelled over the howling wind.

“Not me,” Zach yelled back. “Uncle Dan and Aunt Helen. They were hanging in the garage. Same place we always hung them. Saw them the other day. Tossed them into the Hummer before we left. You never know.”

“And the utility sled! I can’t believe you thought to pack it, too.” Instead of carrying the heavy thermal care basket stocked with cupcakes, can goods, and a small cooked turkey, Zach had piled the Cupcake Lovers’ “present” on a sled specifically made for hauling hunting or camping supplies. He’d also added the insulated tote packed with “snacks” by Helen and Giselle, along with two blankets, a high-powered flashlight, and a medical kit. “Always prepared!” Maya went on. “Like a Boy Scout.”

“Or a Marine,” he said with a wistful smile.

Maya’s heart ached, as she knew Zach was feeling lost now that he was no longer on active duty. How many civilian jobs were there for a sharpshooter? A professional sniper? Not counting a hit man. What if Zach never fully recovered from his injuries? Would he even qualify for a desk job with the police? He was smart, resourceful, and experienced. Surely he could land a job in an advisory or teaching capacity. But would he be happy? Fulfilled? One thing was certain: She couldn’t imagine him hawking houses or cars or running an amusement ride at Disney. Not that there was anything wrong with those jobs, but they weren’t Zach.

Strapped into the snowshoes she’d owned as a teen, Maya glided over the accumulating snowfall rather than sinking in. Once again she was teleported back to her youth when Zach used to take her and some of their other friends hiking in the winter. He’d always been an outdoorsman, always physical. Even now, even with his stilted gait, he navigated this storm with confidence. Since he was wearing a harness that was attached to the sled, his hands were free, enabling him to utilize the walking stick. He seemed to be leaning on it more than before. Trudging uphill in the deep snow while pulling the added weight of their supplies had to be brutal on his bad leg.

She wanted to offer to help, but she knew he’d take offense. Instead she held silent, allowing him to concentrate on their trek. She couldn’t see twelve inches in front of her what with the blizzard, but he seemed to know exactly where they were heading. When she finally spied the small log cabin nestled in a copse of evergreens, her heart nearly burst with relief. Finally, Zach could get off his feet and she could warm up. Her cheeks and nose were so cold, they hurt.

Zach touched her arm as they neared the covered porch. “Hang back.”

“Why?”

“In case he comes out packing that rifle and a bad attitude.” Zach narrowed his eyes when she jutted her chin. “Humor me.”

“Hurry.” Maya covered her face with her gloves and blew into her hands, hoping to unthaw her nose. Her pulse raced as Zach abandoned the harness and snowshoes and stepped onto the porch. Daniel had pegged Rosco Marx as more bark than bite, but who knew? If the man felt threatened …

Zach whistled and motioned her forward.

She hurried across the frozen lawn, unsnapped the straps on her snowshoes, and joined him at the door. “What are you reading?”

“A letter from Marx. It was tacked to the door and addressed to the Cupcake Lovers.” He passed it to her while he tried the door. “Locked.”

Maya read the scrawled note.

SINCE YOU PERSIST IN FORCING YOUR CHARITY ON ME, THIS TIME I TOOK MYSELF OUT OF THE EQUATION. GONE HUNTING OVER THE BORDER. WON’T BE BACK TILL AFTER CHRISTMAS. GIVE THAT DAMNED BASKET TO SOMEONE WHO NEEDS IT. –ROSCOE MARX

“How rude,” Maya commented, then gasped when she noticed Zack picking the lock with some pocket tool. “That’s breaking and entering!”

“Do you want to freeze to death?”

“Good point.” As soon as the door gave, Maya pushed into the dank, dark cabin. “Although it’s not much better in here.” She flicked a switch. “No electricity.”

“I’ll check the generator. Hold tight.” Zach went out front, then around back.

Maya dragged in their supplies. The way the storm continued to rage they could be here all night. She pushed open a curtain, allowing the waning daylight to filter inside. Furnishings were sparse and old and it smelled like stale cigarettes, but at least the place was tidy. Unfortunately, though not a surprise, there wasn’t a holiday decoration to be seen. Not even a menorah or a Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

She thought about the Coles’ home with its oversized, overdecorated spruce, the singing Santa, the army of nutcrackers. She thought about the pine and cinnamon scents. About the Christmas Eve dinner they’d be having without Maya and Zach. Being stranded in a stinky, cheerless cabin wasn’t the holiday she wanted, and it didn’t help that Zach had distanced himself. She didn’t sense that he was wallowing in self-pity, but she did feel his intensifying cynicism. More than anything, she wanted to vanquish that troubling darkness.

Maya blinked with a vision and a goal. If she couldn’t provide Roscoe Marx with cheer and goodwill, she’d gift the spirit of Christmas to Zach.

He clomped back into the cabin just as she shoved a log into the woodstove. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Building a fire, Sherlock.”

He grunted. “Funny.” Moving in, he dumped an armful of chopped wood into the iron bin. “As it happens we’re on the same wavelength, Watson.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “No luck with the generator?”

He shook his head. “We’ll have to make do for warmth and light from the woodstove and fireplace. Hopefully the flue isn’t clogged.”

“I’m thinking we’re probably stuck here for the night.”

“That’d be my guess.”

“I know we brought that gift basket for Mr. Marx, but he doesn’t want it and he’s not here. We are.”

Zach’s lip twitched. “Thinking about filching Marx’s Christmas feast, Maya?”

“I look at it as not letting good food and intentions go to waste.”

He smiled full out then and her heart thumped against her ribs. Without another word he moved to the fireplace, and within a couple of minutes Zach had a fire raging in the cobblestoned hearth.

Maya’s own efforts at the wood-burning stove were successful as well, and she didn’t waste a second breaking into the Cupcake Lovers care basket as well as the thermal tote packed by Helen and Giselle. She arranged the booty on the kitchen counter while Zach ditched his damp outerwear and futzed with his phone. Not getting a strong signal, he switched to Marx’s landline. Thankfully, that worked.

“Yeah. Hi, Uncle Dan. It’s Zach.”

Maya raided drawers and cabinets while listening to Zach fill his uncle in on their circumstance. She supposed she should have felt depressed, being away from her parents, the Coles, and Giselle. Being stranded on a mountain in a smelly cabin without an ounce of Christmas cheer. But instead Maya tingled with the thrill of an adventure. She hadn’t had many adventures lately. And thinking back, she realized her most memorable adrenaline rushes had happened with Zach.

By the time he signed off with Daniel, the main living area, which included a basic kitchen, had heated up enough that Maya had stripped off her coat and scarf, although she retained her Santa hat—just for the fun of it.

“Dan said this storm’s finally being reported on the news. Although it’s being referred to as the Ghost Storm. No one can make sense of it.”

“Mother Nature has a way of keeping us on our toes,” Maya said, unaffected. Utilizing the wood-burning stove, she’d already started heating the turkey, boiled potatoes, and a can of green beans sprinkled with almond slivers. She held up two cans of soup. “Clam Chowder or Cheddar Ale.”

Zach glanced from the stove to the table she’d set, using a pine-scented candle she’d found in the care basket as the centerpiece. Smiling a little, he looked at Maya, striking her weak in the knees. “You choose.”

Chapter Ten

He’d told himself he wasn’t going to pursue the attraction. That he cherished Maya’s friendship too much to screw it up on the off chance that they might click in bed. But as the evening wore on his resolve crumbled.