After a recent break-up ruins her tropical getaway with sophisticated ex-almost-fiancé Preston, Noelle finds herself back in her hometown, stranded two weeks before Christmas. And Hawaii is nowhere in sight!
Enter Nik, the ruggedly handsome lumberja...
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I almost slip sideways off my seat when the train finally stops.
With my scarf in one hand and my duffle strap in the other, I climb down the narrow stairs.
No surprise I am the only one that gets off at this sleepy, snow-covered station.
No one comes to this town. They just already exist here.
And man is it a ghost town, albeit a festive ghost town that belongs inside a snow globe, but vacant nonetheless.
I dredge through the almost knee-high slush on the platform. Glad this town believes in snow removal. The train whistle blows and it starts rolling away again, leaving me behind. I find myself wondering why I disembarked, when I walk headfirst into a solid wall.
My second collision is with the cold, wet ground.
"Oufh."
The solid wall makes an inaudible sound.
"Watch out!" A second and somewhat husky voice breaks the silent night.
"Holy S-!" I groan, panting, scrambling to stand up. I try to collect myself and fish my phone out of a pile of snow.
When I finally bring myself to look up, I discover the solid wall is, in fact, not a wall at all. No, it's not a person either. That would be too normal. It's a bloody reindeer!
"That's a," I pause, grabbing at an invisible stitch in my side, "You're a reindeer!"
"This is Trotter."
I finally take note of the raspy-voiced man and sure. The reindeer makes sense. Brushing snow off my backside, I start ogling him sideways.
If I could only use one word to describe one person on the planet with the hopes of encapsulating their very existence -Lumberjack. I scrutinize his black and red plaid flannel, hidden beneath his Sherpa-trimmed vest, and cringe at his dirty, fraying work boots. It's all very nondescript.
"And I'm Nik," he says. He eyes me, cautious, like he's waiting for me to fall over again.
I decide his eyes are warm enough, but still somehow as dark as the midnight shadow on his face.
I've never been a fan of beards. The woodsy, just chopped some trees and desperately need to bathe look has never been my cup of cocoa.
"You look freezing. Can I give you a blanket?" This Nik seems to pull a fleece throw from nowhere.
"No thanks," I huff.
I walk several paces away, already trying to call my mother when I remember there is next to zero cell service in this hole.
"Can I get you some eggnog? It's still warm," Nik says.
"No, thank you," I say, slow in case he somehow still can't take a hint. "No."
