soot-caked grime from his face. Helmet gripped firm in his other hand, he lumbered in heavy boots toward the locker room. Eleven on so he could have the next two weeks off, and he was dead on his feet.
Could have been off three hours ago, but some fuckhead had left their demented grandmother home alone. Thirty-three degrees out, she’d started a fire, forgotten she started the fire, and took a nap. From what it looked like, the flue was closed, screen open, the logs had been stacked badly, and hell broke loose. It was a damn miracle she hadn’t been hurt. Adult Protective Services would be getting a call for sure.
“Jenner? How the hell did you get two weeks off at Christmas?” Kensington called across the row of lockers.
“Chief likes me better,” he grumbled under an arrogant laugh, his voice scratchy with fatigue. He kicked off the heavy boots and scooped the suspenders off his shoulders.
Not that it wasn’t true. Battalion Chief Pendergast wouldn’t have become Chief Pendergast if Alexei hadn’t dragged his commanding officer’s ass across the country. Enough deployments for the Army, and Major Chuck Pendergast decided retirement from the military was overdue. Jumped from firefights to fighting fires.
Still, it wasn’t just that he’d saved Pendergast’s ass more than a few times—and vice versa. Christmas on the slopes was the best part of his year, so he ponied up Thanksgiving, Easter, and the Fourth of July to make up for it. Spring break, too, but it’s not like he had any kids to take to Disneyland.
Speak of the devil. Pendergast sauntered into the locker room, spiffy in his polo and cargos. The fire wasn’t too impressive, and he’d known Alexei and the others could handle it.
“What’s this I hear about you and Charlie breaking up?” Pendergast asked as he leaned up against the shiny red lockers, arms folded over his broad chest.
“Where’d you hear that rumor?” Alexei buried his hands in his hair, craving the friction that soothed the tension in his skull.
“My daughter. She says it was ‘mutual.’”
Fuck. He laughed under his breath, catching newbie Kensington’s gaping stutter. That. Asking for the time off to bring the chief’s daughter out of town for Christmas may have helped him to get a leg up on prime vacation time.
“It was mutual. Mostly.”
“What’d you do to fuck it up?” If Charlie had even hinted at a broken heart, Alexei’s nose would be in the first shit-pile Pendergast could round up. If he’d had any doubt, Pendergast ensured he received frequent reminders.
“We talked, and I may have said, ‘Have you noticed that we’re really good friends?’ In response, I got a punch in the arm, a laugh, and Charlie’s opinion that if I can’t manage a long-term relationship with her, I’m screwed.”
“Ouch,” Pendergast said with a grimace. “She’s right though. You’ve been friends for years. I thought you seemed fine together. If you’d said the word, Charlie would have walked down that aisle with you.”
“We were fine together. The rest of it…” He shrugged, one shoulder lifting halfway to his ear. No way to tell your CO, oldest friend, and ex-girlfriend’s father, that sex with his daughter was almost as infrequent as kisses hello and goodbye. She was cute, they got along well, but… she knew him well enough to know he sucked at relationships. Maybe she would have stuck it out for the long haul with him, but she deserved better than forced “I love you too’s.’”
Fuck, he’d tried. Had hoped that the more he said he loved her, that it might become true. If anyone could incite deeper feelings from him, it would be Charlie. So, his problem. She deserved the sparks and lightning, not to settle for a friend who got drunk one New Year’s and kissed her on a champagne-induced whim. Pike's fault anyway, having suggested it in the context of their stupidest bet yet.
“You going to fight for her?”
“What? No. Pretty sure she laughed through the breakup conversation, so relieved to be done with me.”
“At least you’re still friends. Marie and I didn’t even notice you’d broken up until Charlie finally said something.”
Exactly. They were so blasé at the relationship thing, that they didn’t even seem like a couple.
Pendergast paused and flicked his thumb over the handle of the locker he was leaned against. “I know she’d been looking forward to the trip. Friends go on holidays together, and that girl needs some serious R&R.” Pendergast tipped his head to the side as he shrugged, ear meeting shoulder in the exaggerated get-your-head-out-of-your-ass gesture.
Alexei mirrored the shrug. “I guess being broken up doesn’t mean I shouldn’t see if she still wants to come up to the cabin. I hadn't even broken it to my moms yet. Or Gramma. They're not going to take it well.” He paused, then bit the edge of his tongue, laughing as he realized his boss had ulterior motives. “You don’t want me to fuck up your vacation with Marie.”
Pendergast’s brow raised and he shrugged with another exaggerated ear-to-shoulder gesture. “Damn straight. Georgie is spending Christmas with her new in-laws. Good chance that Georgie’s going to give us a grandbaby by this time next year. Marie and my flight to Hawaii leaves tomorrow. Our first and likely only Christmas alone. Ever. Please. Don’t fuck this up for me. I can’t leave Charlie alone at Christmas.”
Alexei gave him a weary nod and stripped his pitted-out shirt over his head, stuffing his clothes into a laundry bag. He waved an acknowledgement and lumbered toward the shower. “I’ll call her.”
Not even the rush of achingly hot water over his tight shoulders could loosen the tension. Never date a good friend, nor your boss’s daughter, and never the woman who was both. Hard. Fast. Rule.
Strongest scented soap on the market—that didn’t make him smell like Gramma’s dusty bowl of potpourri that resided behind the toilet—but it wasn’t strong enough. He scrubbed his hair, the lather coating the tile floor with a near foot of bubbles like a blizzard had struck the stall, but he knew his dirty blond hair was irretrievably saturated with the odor of burnt carpet that seeped into every pore.
He hadn’t even had the heart to tell his moms about the breakup. Longest relationship he’d had… ever, and they’d been convinced he was happy and in for the long haul. They adored Charlie. Hell, so did he.
The crunchy white towel scrunched in his wet hair and scraped over his steam-softened skin, before he tightened the stiff fabric around his hips and padded back to his locker. Too impatient to bother with more than the basics, he tugged a fresh black shirt over his head and pulled his jeans over his hips, shielded the free-balled goods with his hand, and zipped up.
His coat pocket chimed once, twice, and silenced again. He reached into the locker and grabbed the jacket, pulling the heavy fleece on and read the text from Lida. Can’t wait to see you! I know you’ve been working so hard to get the time off, you must be exhausted.
A slow smile brightened his expression, and he typed back, Me too. Will be glad to relax when I get there tomorrow.
Gramma said you're bringing Charlie and we’re so excited!! Let me know her favorite traditions so she feels at home. BTW, Pike’s bringing a girlfriend this year. I hear she might be the one!
He climbed into his truck and fired up the engine, the heat enveloping him in an instant. Head tipped back, he huffed out his cheeks. Fuck. Pike was playing full contact. How long had he been secretly dating someone so he could swoop in at the last second for the win?
Knowing what he had to do, he picked up the phone and dialed. Convincing Charlie to come wouldn’t be the hard part, and he would enjoy her company, so not a burden to bring his “ex.” But he knew she wasn’t going to want to pretend that the relationship was better than ever.
“Hey, stranger,” Charlie answered, the cheery lilt to her voice a massive relief. She insisted she was fine, better, actually, since they ended things. How was that for a report card for his tenure as boyfriend, that she was happier after he dumped her?
“Hey. How are ya?”
“Good. Really good. I… Did you talk to my dad?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I fessed up about you and me, and he proved exactly why I hadn’t wanted to say anything yet. He’s feeling guilty, leaving me here alone, while he and Mom are going on a fancy vacation with chi chis and naked breakfast on the lanai.”
He cringed and shook his head. “Don’t do that to me. I really, really don’t want to picture that.”
No sympathy whatsoever, she laughed lyrically. “Hey, it’s been in my head. It’s only fair to share the burden.”
“Not anymore,” he teased. Okay. Here goes nothing. He gathered a full breath and looked out at the glittery frosted parking lot. “So, Charlie, the reason I called…”
She waited patiently on the other end of the line.
“I haven’t told anyone about the breakup, either. And, well, you’d love Rift Peak, and the cabin is huge and relaxing, you need a vacation, and you like my family and they like you…”
“What? You haven’t even told Pike, or your moms?”
He smeared his hand over his mouth as he laughed. “Um, no. I, uh, haven’t gotten a chance to see anyone since, and bad news is best delivered in person.”
“Hmm.”
“Please. If not for your parents’ sex life, then for me. Pike’s bringing someone, ‘the one,’ apparently, and if I go alone, brokenhearted after losing the love of my life—”
“Ha. You’re cute.”
He laughed and put the truck in reverse. “Cute enough to merit a Christmas date?”
“My mom’s been festering in guilt and trying to convince me to join them. As I do not wish to interrupt naked breakfasts on the lanai and don’t particularly want to spend Christmas alone, I will go—as your friend—but only one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You have to wear the ugly Christmas sweater I bought for you.” What the hell kind of condition was that? Her tone was wickedly chipper and bright.
“No. Fucking. Way.” He flipped over to Bluetooth as he drove out of the station and toward home.
“That’s my condition,” she said lightly, devilishly.
“How bad are we talking? Bad puns? Elves? Dozens of tiny Yodas? Did you get this for me before or after we broke up?”
“After. It’s tasteful. You won’t despise it.”
“Fine. I’ll wear the damn sweater.” As pajamas. “But only if you don’t mention the breakup just yet. I want to wait for the right time.”
“Then you need to wear it on Christmas. All day.”
Fuck. “Fine,” he muttered.
“And fix my car.”
“I’d do that for you anyway.”
“Aw. Thanks.”
“Charlie. Seriously. Whatever you want. Give me this trip, and it’s yours.”
“I have a confession,” she said, a devious lilt in her tone.
He waited.
“I hate skiing.”
“What? Pike’s orthopedist threatened him with surgery if he tried skiing before he’s cleared to, so I’m out my favorite ski partner. Aside from showing him up, that’s the main reason I need a date. How could you hate skiing?”
“I never had the heart to say anything. I knew it was a spiritual sort of thing for you. Every time we went up when I was a kid, Georgie and I ended up in a tangled snowball at the base of the hill, our skis and poles sticking out like in the cartoons.”
He laughed as he turned into his neighborhood. His rental house was dark compared to the rest of the block. Always away over Christmas, he didn’t bother putting up lights, as no one would be home to appreciate them.
“Seriously. It was humiliating and my goggles would always fog over so I couldn’t see anything. And what does Chief Pendergast do when you fail at something?”
A guttural laugh vibrated into his throat. “Chief Pendergast would make you do it again.”
“And again and again until we were all crying. Him included.”
“I won’t make you ski,” he said.
“Gosh, thanks. You can ski, and I’ll chill, maybe indulge in a little retail therapy.”
“Plenty of that.”
“Alright. Sleep tight,” she said, her tone warming the air more than the truck heater could accomplish. After failing to fall head-over-heels for Charlie, he realized there was something wrong with him. What sort of jackass wouldn’t fall deliriously in love with her?
He clicked open the garage as he turned to back in. “Pick you up first thing in the morning?”
“I work tonight. Can we make it later in the afternoon? Like four or so, so I’m not a slap-happy sleepy mess? Crap, I’ll need to pack. Maybe closer to six or seven? It’s only a three-hour drive, right?” She was way too agreeable. Maybe Pendergast was right, and she wasn’t over him?
“That’s fine. Whenever.” Had to be fine, he supposed. Charlie was… not so perky after a long shift and no sleep. She called it slap-happy; he called it a Charlie-sized IED.
He’d rather get going by six in the morning, but he should have known Charlie wouldn’t be able to swing that. She’d had a hard enough time getting so much vacation time approved at the holidays and had worked as many extra shifts as he had. Fuck, to ditch her after that? No, he was doing the right thing, bringing her to Rift Peak. She’d have a great time, and was way overdue for a vacation.
Alexei stumbled into his bedroom. Without bothering to flick on the lights, he lowered into the cool sheets and drew the comforter up to his chin. Flat on his back, sprawled on the California king bed, he glared up at the shadows on the ceiling, twinkling in an unpredictable pattern of red, green, and white as his neighbor’s curbside tree illuminated the whole block. All. Night. Long.
Grabbing the spare pillow, he crushed it over his face and sealed his eyes shut. One more day, then he could hit the slopes. Speed. Cold wind biting his cheeks. The unmatched silence of fresh fallen snow, broken only by the slice of his skis. Then a frothy brew in the village.