Bee must bug me about what I'm going to do at least six times as I write our incident reports, fill out supply requests, and put my overtime into the system.

Almost three hours after we arrived back at Cliffside Lodge, I have my work done and Bee's shift is almost up, so we close the shop together, locking the door and turning out the lights.

What feels like forever later, we make it to my truck, which is buried under at least a foot of snow and not plugged in. She's a rugged beauty but even she's not cold starting in this weather.

I'm so tired that all I can do is just stare at her, holding my keys in my hand and wondering what I did to deserve such an awful day.

"We could just take the snowmobile," Bee suggests. "Or we could plug it in and wait a few more hours."

"Or we could walk. Why didn't you remind me to plug her in when we got back?"

She pulls her hand to her chest. "Me? Why didn't I remember to do something? You're going to ask me that for real?"

"Fine. I know."

"You're the one who usually remembers these things."

"I know. But it slipped my mind. I don't know what got into me."

"Really?" I can't even see her face right now and if you asked me to describe it to a sketch artist, I'm pretty sure I'd be spot on.

"Don't say it."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She pauses. "So, what's the verdict?"

It's nearing supper time and I'm hungry, even if our anticipated meal is only half a pack of ramen. "Snowmobile," I declare. "I'm hungry."

"That's the spirit," she claps. "We'll come back for Bessie here tomorrow or the next day."

"Her name is not Bessie," I argue, following Bee to the snowmobile and hopping on the back.

"'To be determined', then," Bee says, kicking the machine to life.

I don't have the energy for this right now. "Just drive."

"I can do that," she says, pulling out of the parking lot and circling around back to the paths we can use to get back to our place.

I can't see well through the trees and the darkened visor of the helmet she gives me, so it takes longer than it should for me to realize we aren't going down toward town, but up toward...

"Bee, no," I shout over the engine. "Turn this around and take me home."

"Can't do that. We're going to a feast."

"I'm not going."

"You would deprive me of dinner just to avoid seeing a guy? Maybe I want the dad, hmm? What would you say then?"

"I'd say go for it? I'm not going to stop you."

"You have to stay."

"Nope."

"You're going to drive this all the way down and then come back for me in the morning? You'd leave me up there alone with them all night? What if they're dangerous?"

"If you think they're dangerous, why are we going to meet them in a secluded cabin in the woods?"

"So you agree they aren't dangerous and it's perfectly safe to stay for dinner, then?"

I cannot contain my frustration, but my groan blends in with the engine noise and Bee doesn't even notice. She speeds up to take a corner, spraying snow onto the nearby fir tree.

"You aren't going to let this go, are you?" I ask when we reach the next turn.

"Probably not."

"Fine," I relent. "But you owe me huge."

"Oh, I think you'll find you owe ME big by the end of the night."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

I'm also seriously debating how injured I would get if I waited for her to slow down a bit and jumped off. It can't take more than a few hours to walk back down into town.

"Don't even think about it," Bee says when she slows to approach a switchback, seemingly reading my mind. "I'll turn around and bring you back."

"I just don't want to impose, you know? I don't want them to think I'm using them for money."

"That's not what you're doing?" she gasps. "That's totally what I'm doing."

"Get out of here," I shove her lightly and she pretends to lose her balance.

"You're lucky I'm an excellent driver," she says, approaching another switchback. But as we go to turn, we find ourselves face to face with a large, black mass. For a moment, I see my life flash before my eyes. Bears awake at this time of winter are not usually a good sign for anyone.

But it screams — very unlike a bear — jumping off the path and rolling into the snowy bushes along the laneway.

Bee skids to a stop and cuts the engine and I hope off, skidding to the edge of the path and grabbing onto a tree for security.

"Are you okay?" I call down to the person inside the huge black puffer coat.

The person groans in response.

"Hold on. Can you hold my foot?" I sit down on the edge of the path and extend my left boot as far as it'll go. "We'll get you out of this."

"What are you doing here?" the lump asks, turning to face me and pulling down his scarf. I'd recognize those lips anywhere.

"What am I doing here?" My voice comes out as a shrill squeal. "What are you doing walking down a mountain without any provisions? Did I teach you nothing?"

"That's just it," he says, shuffling toward me. "You taught me so much, I clean forgot everything else. And I had to find you. I had to tell you to stay. I can't... I can't go this whole trip and not ask you for what I want. For the first time since I took over this company I'm scared to ask, because money won't solve the problem if you say no. But I know you're right. Making mistakes isn't the end of the world. And I really really hope that's true because I am dying to ask you out on a proper date, if you'll let me."

My heart warms. "Why don't we get you out of here first?" I ask, reaching my arm down.

"Why don't we just stay here for a few more minutes pretending life doesn't exist. I'm not ready for you to say no just yet."

"And if I wasn't going to say no?"

His head snaps up. "What did you say?"

"I said I'm not going to say no."

"Get down here," he says, reaching up for my hand and pulling me into him, pressing into me and capturing my lips in his.

"I'm still not sure how I feel about all your money," I say when he lets me go. "But I'm willing to overlook it for now."

"How noble."

"I'm nothing if not selfless."

"Isn't that the truth." His eyes are shouting about something I've never seen in them before.

It feels a lot like hope.

* * *

It probably wasn't the smartest move to fall off the side of a mountain with Damien, but Bee manages to drag us both out with minimal damage.

Dinner up at the cabin is homemade by Atlas and better than anything I could have ever dreamed up. And the collection of family activities they've cooked up fills the whole evening.

My gingerbread house completely falls down, but Bee fits right in, trash talking over board games well into the night until the clock strikes tomorrow.

"Time to pack it in for the night," Atlas says.

"Do we have to?" Bee whines. "I was just starting to win."

"Family tradition," Atlas says, reaching out for my hand. "Now let's get you ladies to your rooms."

"You have extra rooms for us?" Bee feigns surprise, linking her arm through Atlas's arm. "Can you show me?"

Given what she said earlier I'm really struggling to decide if the wink she throws him is because she's interested or if it's because she's working with him to leave us alone in a place that isn't three feet of snow on a mountainside. But they run off up the stairs together, leaving us to watch the dying embers of the fire.

"This is kind of our thing now, huh?" He gestures to the dying fire.

"We're going to be really good at keeping warm by the fire by the time this trip is over," I laugh. "No one I'd rather watch a dying fire with."

He turns out all of the lights except the ones lighting up the Christmas tree. They bounce off the marble hearth, casting their light all over the wooden interior, creating little stars on the fifteen foot ceilings. I lay my head back to watch them twinkle.

Damien sits down beside me. "You know, I was thinking."

"Is that why you were several turns down the mountain when we found you?"

"Yes."

"And what were you planning to do?"

"I really hadn't thought that through. Which is strange for me. I think everything through several times. But I just had to try. Trust the mountain, right?"

"She did provide," I lean into his side and rest my head on his shoulder. "You know, since I'm here, we could try the whole cuddling thing without the threat of death."

"You'd be willing to cuddle me even when the alternative isn't death?" he jokes.

"Let's give it a try first and then I'll see how I feel."

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me so my back rests against his chest and I'm sitting on his crossed legs.

"Do you ever wonder if maybe you're in the wrong line of work?" he asks after a minute, looking up at the ceiling with me.

"Not really," I laugh. "I pretty much love what I do."

"Yeah, right."

"But I did hate my job before, remember? I know the feeling well."

"What if I quit my job and move out here?"

"You are not moving out here to the middle of nowhere. Don't even joke about that."

"I'm not. Look at us. We're all so happy out here. We've never had this in the city."

"Oh god please don't tell me you mean yourself and your dad," I groan.

"Yeah," he says, clearly unsure what I'm getting at.

"My friend said something earlier I really don't know what to think about but... anyway, let's not discuss that now. You were saying?"

"If I were to come out here, say, for an extended sabbatical for a year or two, would you be willing to date me then?"

I can't believe he would honestly do that, so my tongue is stuck.

"I know it isn't forever, but it feels like it would be long enough to give it a genuine try. What do you think? Would you be willing to accept my offer of a date if I could promise you a year or two?"

"Come back to me when you've made the arrangements," I say, snuggling into his chest. "And I'll let you know what I decide."

"I've made the arrangements," he says, voice low. "That's why I was walking down that mountain."

"You quit your job? You can't quit your job that's way too much pressure and I—"

"I said sabbatical. I'm not quitting just yet. I'm taking some time away from day to day operations and letting my cousin step in. He's thrilled. I doubled his salary so."

"You're serious."

"As a heart attack."

"Please don't have one of those, too, okay?"

"Not planning on it. How's your arm?"

"Still hurting," I murmur, eyelids growing heavy and warmth spreading through me. "Still can't believe you quit your job temporarily just for me."

"I think you're worth it, Amelia. Plus, I'd like to spend some time with you when you aren't injured or covered in sixteen layers of clothes. Or both."

"Mr. Serrano, are you propositioning me?"

"I believe I was, yes."

"What's stopping you, again?"

I turn to face him but wince as my shoulder refuses to hold me up and he doesn't even say anything, just gesturing to my face.

"Fine," I whine. "But I'm going to be very dramatic about it."

"I would expect nothing less." He stands, leaning down to pick me up under my back and knees. "Now let's get you to bed, Amelia."

"I'll hold you to that."

He groans. "You are going to kill me, woman."

"Hopefully not. I have many plans for you and I'm pretty sure you need to be alive for at least half of them."

"Where did I find you?" he demands, effortlessly carrying me up the long flight of stairs.

"Somewhere in the mountains," I answer, snuggling into his shoulder. "Do you think you could pretend to be a grumpy mean rich guy again? I kinda want to see what it would have been like if I hadn't fallen on the way into the cabin."

"You're lucky you're injured, or I'd throw you on the bed right now."

"Very unlucky I'm injured, then." I hug him with my free arm for effect and I can tell it's working, but I can also tell he's far too chivalrous to do anything that might injure me further, no matter how much I'd like him to. "I'd get injured for you," I whisper. And I don't even get the whole phrase out before his lips are on mine, hot and demanding. His hands find my hair and pull just enough for him to control where my head turns and I have no objections, letting him angle me just how he wants and pressing into him with every fibre of my being.

"I want to see where this goes, Amelia," he says, resting his forehead against mine. "I want to be with you."

"Then do it," I challenge.

"I"m not used to being told what to do," he growls, placing me gently on the bed and pulling back the covers for me. "And I'm not about to start now. Get some sleep."

"What are you going to do?" I tease.

"I'm going to think of things I maybe shouldn't and hold you, if you'll let me."

"And you think you can keep it there."

"For tonight," he answers, the promise of future adventures swimming in my brain as I relax into him.

"Okay," I press back into him. "I'll go on a date with you. But only once my arm is healed."

He chuckles and presses a kiss to my shoulder. "It would bring me great joy. Now go to sleep."

I do as I'm told, drifting into a restful sleep wrapped in his strong embrace as his gruff baritone hums a medley of Christmas carols. And for perhaps the first time in a long time, I dream of what's to come.