I drove up into the mountains the next day. Waking before the sun, I tiptoed from the sleeping house, shrugging on the downy parka my mother had gotten me for my birthday and laced up my boots out on the deck. The promise of sunrise lingered just beyond the icy mountain peaks, a haze of soft yellow that made the fresh powder shine blue and the frost covered trees glow with pink as they sang like chimes in the winter wind. By the time I got in the car and started the engine, the tip of my nose was cherry red and stinging. The roads were nearly empty, walls of recently ploughed snow lined the thoroughfare and I took turns placing my hands up to the heating vents to warm my stiff fingers.
I cranked up the radio the fill the silence as I glanced at the GPS that was clipped to my dashboard. The little numbers below the map read out twenty minutes until my destination point. With a sigh, I leaned back into my seat and settled myself in for the drive, staring dully at the miles of wet pavement that stretched on before me. The highway ended quicker than I expected and I merged onto the off-ramp that lead to the road up to the ski resort. Cars were already zooming along the mountain pass, either workers preparing for their day, or the wealthy in their black Tundras, headed up to the slopes with their skis attached to the tops of their cars.
There was something a little unsettling about the forest trees rearing up like withered giants on either side of the road. I was used to the evergreen of the Sierra Nevada and though pines grew within the Wasatch range, many of the trees lost their leaves due to the cold and appeared like frozen hands, clawing up from the ground. The pass wound sharply through the forest and my hands began to clench around the wheel as the turns grew sharper and the road steeper. I chanced a look over the side, the trees had grown in a protective wall along the side of the road but past the first row the land grew sloped treacherous, great drifts of fresh white powder caught between gnarled roots. It was only because I was looking down that I saw the shape running parallel to the car in front of me.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I watched the dark shadow dart through the wood, its gate lumbering like a bear. It must be a bear, I thought, though what's one doing out so late from hibernation? My foot eased off the gas pedal as I watched it amble farther and farther away, a spot of midnight amongst white and grey. I didn't realize I'd come to an almost complete stop until the car behind me blared its horn, the driver gesturing angrily in my review mirror.
I quickly revved the engine and sped to catch up with the next car, the resort wasn't far now, to the left people were coasting down a trail in their skis that ran along the side of the road. On the last sharp turn to the left, the road leveled out and a giant parking lot appeared, where cars were packed bumper to bumper trying to find a space. It took me nearly an hour to find a space that included a lot of dirty looks from people.
The lot must have been cleared of snow earlier in the morning, it was mostly clear of the white powder and my boots sloshed in the melted puddles as I wound my way into the heart of the resort. The buildings were obviously new, shinning wooden panels adorned the hotel, capped with snow on the roof that looked like a padding of cotton. Copper lanterns hung from the archways of the shops, casting gold over the snow like lost suns on a cloudy day and people bustled around in their expensive coats, some speaking foreign languages. The press of the crowd around me made the back of my neck itch and I quickly trudged into the entrance of the hotel as small flakes began to fall from the gloomy sky.
The Wildgate hotel was known for its quality and I marveled at the red carpet that adorned the walkway to the service desk and the marble of the walls. A woman stat tapping away at a sleek computer as I timidly approached the counter, snatching off my glasses and quickly cleaning them of any smudges. I cleared my throat awkwardly when she didn't look up and for a moment her dull brown eyes flicked up to assess me before they darted back to the screen.
"Excuse me?" I prodded, beginning to become irritated and with a heaving sigh, the woman sat back from the keyboard and looked at me with pursed lips.
"Can I help you with something?" she drawled, folding her hands over her flat stomach and staring me up and down, like someone would a spider that had suddenly dangled down in front of them. The card on her perky chest flashed in the lights of the chandeliers, naming her Audrey.
"Yes," I cleared my throat and fidgeted with my sweater nervously, "I'm looking for a job?"
She lifted one thin, black eyebrow and one corner of her mouth quirked up as if I was so stupid it was cute.
"Mmm and do you have any experience in the hotel service industry?" she asked, her dull eyes now glittering with wicked amusement. I felt my face begin to get hot at her condescending tone, shifting uncomfortably.
"Well . . . no ma'am, but I assure you I'm a fast learner," insisted managing a small smile, "and I h-have my resume if you'd like to see me references," I continued, hand scrambling to grab the papers from my messenger bag, yanking them out and waving them awkwardly in her direction.
She stared at me for a moment, before turning back to her computer and replying without looking at me, "all the positions have been filled, you may go."
I froze at the brusque refusal, stupidly feeling like crying as I watched her slender body hunched over the computer, keys clacking in the silence. With my hands falling to my side and a large sigh to hold in my tears of humiliation, I turned and stomped from the entrance hall, hoping to god I stained the pristine carpet with my muddy boots. It was the same everywhere I went. I sharp refusal before the employees turned back to their clamoring customers. I spent all day going from shop to boutique, my hopes plummeting as the numbers dwindled. As if the universe heard of my plight, a cold front over the mountains rolled in and snow began to fall heavily.
Yanking my hood over my head and stuffing my corkscrew curls into the back of the jacket, I jogged to the nearest building and entered, looking around curiously. It was a restaurant, tucked in between a ski outlet and a boutique for fancy snow proof clothes. I hadn't noticed it in my foray for jobs and I stood by the door uncertainly, surveying the vintage interior.
"Hello! Welcome to the Cragtooth Diner!" Called a voice from the counter before me, were a pretty girl stood, smiling at me encouragingly. I recognized her after a second, the pretty blonde from the coffee shop who was talking about Django, what was her name, Sarah? Sienna? She now wore a neat, white blouse and a smart blue apron over it.
"Hi," I replied slowly, easing up to the chairs and sitting down with a huff, propping my chin on my hand.
"Bad day?" she asked, folding her arms against the counter, still grinning. I noticed her eyes were kind.
"You have no idea," I groaned, rolling my eyes at her, "any chance I could get a cup of coffee?" I asked, drumming my fingers against the smooth counter.
"Of course," she piped, "cream and sugar?"
"Extra," I urged, smiling at her thankfully.
I watched as she poured the freshly brewed liquid into a decorative mug and placed the cream and sugar in front of me with a grin. "Why do you call it Cragtooth?" I inquired, blowing across the top of the hot beverage before taking a careful sip.
The blonde turned and pointed towards the end of the diner where a large window made up the expanse of wall. "If you look out there, see that peak?" I followed where her gaze rested and saw a jagged white mountain spearing up amongst the others. The tip was slightly curved and neatly pointed like the very earth had grown a fang.
"It looks like a tooth right?" she piped, turning back to look at me, "that's because it's made mostly of white granite, it's a highly difficult slope and not many skiers try it," she explained. "So what made your day so bad?" she insisted, seeming genuinely interested.
"Someone told me there'd be job openings up here, but so far I've had no luck," I complained, swirling the milk and sugar in my drink.
She stared at me for a moment before grinning widely, "I think I might be able to work something out for you!" she piped, "one of our waitresses just took off on maternity leave so there's an opening, do you have the proper skills? It can get pretty crazy in here sometimes and no offense but we can't have a newbie bungling things up."
I sat higher in my seat, my heart beginning to beat faster. "I have the skills!" I insisted, "before I moved here I worked at a diner in Los Angeles, I promise I'm qualified."
Her eyes lit up, "that's why I didn't recognize you! When did your family move here?"
I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable, "I-It's just my mom and my siblings, we moved her about a little over a month ago, before we were living in Salt Lake." But he'd found us there hadn't he? Made his presence known with a dead cat on our doorstep that's head had been completely twisted around like a real life version of the Exorcist.
"Do you have a resume my manager could look over?"
"Yeah, here." I pulled the crumpled piece of paper from my bag and handed it to her bashfully.
The girl narrowed her blue eyes in thought while looking over it, before saying, "let me go get my general manager from the back and he can interview you," then paused to turn back and stuck out her hand, "I'm Sierra by the way."
I deliberated for a moment, feeling a streak of rebellion before shaking her hand replying, "I'm Bonnie."
She grinned at me again, before fluttering across the expanse of the counter and disappearing into the door that lead into the kitchen. A few moments later a man emerged, wiping his hands on a white towel. My eyebrows raised as I took him in, looking up and up. He was huge, broad shoulders that barely fit though the door and large hands that were tipped with oddly dark nails. His eyes found me immediately, the color of ice, just like his hair. His hair was incredibly white, yet his face was young. An albino perhaps? All thoughts on his appearance were wrenched from my mind as he approached me and placed both hands on the bar, studying me coldly.
"Sierra tells me you're looking for a job," it was a statement, not a question. Unable to speak I only nodded dumbly. My toes were squinching in my boots and being so near to him for some reason made my spine itch. Somewhere in the back of my mind there was a small voice; Be careful. Stay still and slow and don't run.
"I have experience as a waitress, I-I worked as one in LA," I stuttered, looking anywhere but at his eyes that stared relentlessly without blinking,
"And your name is Bonnie?"
"Y-yes, Bonnie Lee Harper."
His eyes flicked over my form, before he held out his hand for me to shake, "I'm Calvin," he declared gruffly in his rumbling voice, and I stared fascinated as my hand was engulfed in his own as we were introduced. For someone with so many rippling muscles his grip was surprisingly gentle. "We'll give you a test run for a week, if I think you're capable enough you're hired, we'll of course pay you for your work for the trial."
"Thank you!"
He jerked his head in a nod, "Sierra is kitchen manager, she'll be able to sort everything out for you," he turned to the side, "Sierra, come here!" When Calvin turned back and opened his mouth to say something, he suddenly paused, his eyes flicking over my head to the door of the entrance that opened with a sudden rush of frigid air and the sharp smell of fresh snow. I watched curiously as his icy eyes lightened slightly and a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
There was a stomping of boots, being rid of snow before the sound of quick steps and I was suddenly engulfed in the scent of pine needles and a musk that was deep and heavy. My spine straightened into a tense rod and my fingers closed over the edge of the counter, my knuckles bleaching white against the chrome as I let a curtain of hair fall between them and me. Sierra emerged from the kitchen at that moment, untying her apron and hanging it behind the door. She smiled at me with her perfect white teeth before something caught her gaze over my shoulder and a sudden wariness grew in her eyes and her sweet smile dropped.
"Moriggan!" Calvin boomed, circling the expanse between him and the man to clap him on the shoulder, "didn't think you were coming today, heard there was some trouble up at the pass with the snow buildup and thought you'd be booked."
His voice was a rasp of silk over steel, "Not necessarily a buildup, a car swerved to avoid a drift and hit a patch of black ice before spinning off the road and into the Park forest." He paused for a moment and I felt the heat of his gaze burning into my side before he quietly asked, "Bonnie?"
I forced myself to turn my head and look at him with a smile that trembled around the edges, heart beating like a drum against my breastbone. He was as perfect as the last two times I'd seen him, gossamer strands of hair falling over his forehead in an untidy tumble. Eyes blacker than night and glittering stared at me from his perfect face, Django's expression unreadable. I couldn't help it as my eyes were drawn down to his sculpted lips and I squirmed in my seat remembering panting breaths and the clash of teeth. Something sparked in those inky depths and Django's large chest drew in a gust of air as his gaze grew sharp and calculating.
"You two know each other?" Sierra blurted out, incredulous, staring from me to Django with wide eyes. Even Calvin seemed surprised, one white eyebrow rising in speculation as he studied Django with an odd expression on his face.
"We've met once or twice," he rasped, a palm scrubbing over his mouth as he surveyed me, stepping closer so gracefully I almost didn't see him move, "Little one, how do you fare?" The black uniform of the park ranger fit him perfectly and I looked down to notice his boots were slightly unlaced as if he'd shoved them on in a hurry. There was a glock strapped to his left leg.
My mouth was dry and I couldn't seem to formulate words. A voice in the back of my mind was screaming at me to snap out of it – he's an asshole remember!? And with a small shake of my head, my heart fluttering like a bird's wings in my throat, I replied, "I'm doing just fine, and yourself?" If I moved two inches to the right his chest would brush against my arm. How had he managed to get so close?
"Ah, I'm doing well," he reached out to touch one of my curls and I jerked my head back, glaring at him in irritation. "Are you looking for a job?" he continued, leaning lazily against the counter with a small smirk on his voice as if he knew his presence disturbed me and he reveled in it.
"Calvin's promised to give me a trial run as a waitress."
"How interesting," he purred, black eyes glowing fiercely behind the strands of that silky hair and I had to resist the sudden urge to brush it from his face by clenching my hands into fists in my lap.
"You'll need to adhere to the dress code," stated Calvin, breaking the awkward silence, "a white shirt, long black pants and work shoes if you please."
"Thank you very much Calvin," I murmured, managing to tear my eyes away from Django's burning gaze and smiling weakly at the white haired man. He tilted his head in acknowledgment, but his eyes weren't on me, they were on Django, with an emotion I couldn't read.
"You can start next week, Monday," he offered, finally turning to look at me and I was pleasantly surprised when I realized his smile had grown incredibly warmer. I nodded in agreement, clutching my bag to my side as I slid off the stool and turned to Sierra who was watching the exchange with her mouth slightly parted.
"Thank you again Sierra," I waved as I began to exit the diner with shaky steps, feeling Django's gaze on me like a hot caress against my flesh. As I turned a hand clasped my shoulder, searing even through the fabric of my coat and my back instantly arched in reaction a small gasp parted my lips.
"I'll walk you to your car," Django rasped, his hands sliding from my shoulder slowly, as if reluctant to let go.
My hands were trembling tightly around the strap of my bag and my heart was wild and roaring in my ears as I turned to face him. This man is going to be the death of me, I thought, as he placed his calloused palm against the small of my back and lead me out the door of the diner in a daze. So immersed in his scent, it made my head swim and I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. The snow crunched under our boots as we made our way through the crowd and to break the crushing silence, I asked, "how do you know Calvin?"
His scorching gaze, like glittering coals, turned to me, analyzing. "Calvin and I grew up together in this town. He's like a brother to me."
"You've never left Wildgate?" I inquired, surprised.
Django tilted his head, "I've been to the outer reaches of the state, but there is no need for me to leave, my place is here."
"Oh," I replied dismally, a little unnerved by his strange answer, staring at the side of his face. By god his mouth was perfect . . .
I shook my head, feeling my cheeks heat up at the thought of those once pressed against mine. Why did he kiss me? Why?
"How old are you?" I continued, trying my best to stifle the urge to wrap my body around his and never let go.
His stride was strong and the hand at my back was so hot I was sure that when he removed it there would be a print left behind. "I am twenty-nine little one," Django rumbled, scraping a hand through his untidy mess of hair as we entered the parking lot.
I felt my heart jump in my chest. Nine years older than me? No wonder I found him so intimidating, he was a man, while I was just a girl covered in scars. Pressing my lips together I tugged jacket down over my wrists to ensure no one saw the horror engraved on my flesh. Yet he'd seen hadn't he? And still he kissed you.
"Where's your car?" he questioned, turning his head to gaze at me with eyes like chips of obsidian. I pointed to the silver vehicle near the edge and we both began to trudge towards it. I felt the question I really wanted to ask weighing on my tongue. Curling my fingers into fists I opened my mouth and asked.
"Django, why did you kiss me that night?"
Looking at him, I noticed the sharp line of his jaw clench as he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "I had to Bonnie," he murmured as we finally reached my car, snow caught in the sable strands of his hair.
"Had to?" I repeated incredulously, halting to stare at him like he'd grown another head. "You can't just have to kiss someone, that's not how it works." His hands were clenching and unclenching into fists and Django's dark eyes surveyed my form, burning every inch of me in their heat. I watched, almost entranced as he stepped closer, eyes both challenging and promising at the same time. It took me a second to realize what he intended.
"Don't you dare kiss me again!" I snapped, pointing a shaky finger at him in warning as Django backed me against my car. He groaned low in is throat, a rumble that sent a bolt of heat straight between my legs. "Gods but I must," he grated, a wild look in his eyes that made my jungle heart beat like a drum. With that he moved so fast that I barely even saw him. Rough hands grasped my waist and hauled me against his heaving chest. On instinct my legs wrapped around his muscled pelvis, as his lips crashed down onto mine.
I mewled in pleasure as he settled his erection against the apex of my thighs and ground it against me. The rock of his hips made me squirm against his iron form as Django's tongue stroked against mine, plunging in and out, mimicking sex. I gasped when his callused fingers stroked against my cheekbones before he took my glasses off and set them on the top of the car.
Without my sight everything became a haze of sensation. The press of his lush lips against my own, as he kissed me wetly, petting my mouth with his wicked tongue. The rock of his leather clad hips against mine that made me claw at his shoulders in desperation. Django made me wild and with a jolt of nervousness I realized I liked it.
Propping me against the car, his hands roamed over my jacket, before diving under and smoothing over my shirt up to my breasts. I gasped, eyes flashing open to stare at the blur of his face in front of me. He growled low in his throat that sent a shiver down my spine. "By all the gods Bonnie, you have wicked eyes," he rasped, his breath like mint against the sensitive flesh of my throat. He kissed me sensually with a small nip at the base of my ear making me yelp. "they turn to silver pools when you're hungry for me, and I am helpless to deny you," Django grated, before ripping himself away from me.
My knees buckled and I grasped onto the car for support, fumbling for my glasses before shoving them on my face. Django was standing a few feet from me, his large body heaving with breaths. He was gazing at me with a look I couldn't decipher. Longing? Confusion? He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the clenched his jaw shut, large hands made into fists at his side as he turned around and stalked into the woods without a word, leaving me standing in alone in the lot, his searing heat fading quickly in the snow and my lips bruised and burning from his kiss.