Snow Queen (5 page)

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on. I promise I won’t look at it,” he said.

“Sure you won’t,” Aubrey replied.

“Hey, haven’t I proven I’m a gentleman yet? I gave you my coat,” he pointed out.

Aubrey heaved a sigh. “Fine.”

She grabbed Christie’s sheet out of her hand, placed it on top of her own, and handed them both over. Grayson attached them to his clipboard without so much as glancing down.

“Hey, Grayson, on our way in we noticed that the carnival isn’t on the calendar of events in the lobby,” Christie said. “You should probably tell someone about that or the guests are gonna get confused.”

“Forget confused, they’re gonna revolt,” Grayson said with a laugh. “Thanks for the tip.” He looked at Aubrey. “So, the talent thing came out of left field for you, huh?” he asked as the other contestants walked by and handed over their sheets.

“That? Oh, no. I was just…thinking about
something else,” Aubrey said, a blush rising to her cheeks. The last thing she wanted to do was prove his preconceived notions about her. She put her hands on her hips under his coat. “Of course I have talents.”

“I’m sure you do. But just so you know, my parents have been forcing me to either watch this pageant or judge it for the last ten years,” Grayson told her. “So if you need help coming up with something, I’m your guy.”

Aubrey was sure her skin was about to melt off her face. How pathetic did he think she was? “I don’t have to
come up
with something,” she blurted. “I told you, I plan to kick butt in this pageant.”

“I believe you!” he said, lifting his hand in surrender.

Why was it that whenever he said that, it seemed as if he actually
didn’t
believe her?

“Come on, Christie,” Aubrey said, hooking one arm around Christie’s and using the other to whip Grayson’s coat off from around her shoulders. The cold rushed in on her like a freight train, and she used every ounce of her self-control to keep from shivering as she handed
the coat back to him. “Let’s go home and start practicing. Rehearsing. Whatever.”

“Bye, Grayson!” Christie shouted over her shoulder as Aubrey pulled her away.

“Why did you have to say good-bye to him?” Aubrey asked under her breath.

“I’m confused. I thought you liked him,” Christie replied, stumbling to keep up.

“I do. Or I did,” Aubrey said, struggling to explain. “Sometimes I do.”

“Sometimes? You just met him,” Christie pointed out.

“Can we analyze my insanity later?” Aubrey said, quickening her steps as they headed up the hill. “Right now all I can think about is getting inside.”

And maybe snagging some hot chocolate and a nice wool blanket
, she added silently.

Aubrey had to warm herself up as quickly as possible. Otherwise she was going to spend the rest of the day fantasizing about the warmth of Grayson’s coat, the sweetness of his gesture, and the way he made her feel—both giddy and self-conscious. The way no other guy had ever made her feel before.

Late that night, Aubrey sat in one of the cushioned chairs in the Spotted Owl’s dining room, staring out the huge plate-glass window at the carnival grounds and the stars blanketing the sky above. The view was as clear as crystal. Not a cloud in sight. She heaved a sigh and rested her chin in her hands, her elbows on the windowsill. Still no snow, and no sign of any sort of inclement weather. If the whole two weeks passed without a flake, she was not going back to Florida. She would hop the next flight to Canada. Or Iceland. Or the Arctic Circle. However far north she had to go to see snow, she would go there.

“Aubrey? A little help over here?”

Aubrey pulled her attention from the night sky and turned around. It was after ten, so the dining room was closed to guests, and Rose and Jim had converted it into an arts-and-crafts workspace for the evening. Strewn over the inn’s dozen dining tables were all kinds of art supplies: colorful sheets of paper, jars of paint and paintbrushes, glitter and foam and stencils. Jonathan and Charlie were at a table across the
room, constructing the frame for a raffle ticket booth, while Aubrey and Christie were supposed to be painting signs. Instead Aubrey had spent the last ten minutes staring into space, and Christie was now struggling with the lid on a jar of red paint, her face screwing up unattractively from the effort of trying to open it.

“Sorry.” Aubrey scooted off her chair and walked over to her friend, holding her hand out for the jar. “I’ve got it.”

“Thank you,” Christie sighed as she gratefully gave up the losing battle.

“Christie, why don’t you go over and help Jonathan?” Aubrey whispered.

Christie’s blush was instantaneous. “Just go over there? No. I couldn’t.”

Aubrey saw that her friend had already outlined all the letters for the raffle ticket sign and just needed the red paint to fill them in. She twisted the white cap, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Why not? Charlie’s over there if you need a buffer, and we’re all just hanging out,” Aubrey said. “You’re not gonna find a more pressure-free moment.”

Taking a deep breath and holding it, she tried
the cap again. Nothing.

“You think?” Christie said, biting her lip as she glanced across the room.

“Definitely.” She grunted as she tried again. Her fingers were already smarting from the grooves on the lid. “There must be some dried paint under there or something.”

“I’ll go run it under some warm water,” Christie offered.

“Oh no. You’re not fooling anyone with that. You’re gonna go talk to Jonathan. I got it. One more try,” Aubrey said.

She held her breath, gripped the lid, and turned. The lid started to give and she smiled triumphantly just as Grayson sauntered through the door.

“Hey, everyone! Need some help?”

Aubrey was so surprised to see him, she forgot what she was doing. The lid twisted off and spun right out of her sweaty grip. Then it all happened in a flash. Aubrey grabbed for the lid, the jar of paint tipped, she saw that it was going to spill all over Christie’s sign and tried to stop it, but managed only to fling it faster, which caused the paint to spatter in a huge arc, taking out not
only the unfinished sign, but tons of paper and supplies as well. Christie and Grayson jumped back, out of the spray, but for the table it was too late. Everything was ruined.

Aubrey’s heart pounded. Everyone in the room froze. Then Grayson dropped his hands at his sides.

“So. It’s the postmodernist approach to carnival signage,” he said dryly.

Aubrey felt a laugh bubble up in her throat. Across the room, Charlie and Jonathan cheered and applauded for Aubrey’s stunning lack of coordination, although it was a tad difficult for Charlie, who was nursing a newly broken finger, thanks to another snowboarding mishap. Christie stepped forward carefully to survey the damage.

“Oh my gosh, Christie, I’m so sorry!” Aubrey said, bringing her hands to her mouth. “All that work!”

“It’s okay,” Christie said with a shrug. “I wasn’t happy with it anyway. The lines weren’t perfectly straight.”

“Okay, Martha Stewart,” Grayson joked, walking over and patting her on the back. He
rubbed his hands together and looked down at the smears of red paint. “Want me to go get something to clean this up?”

Christie glanced at Aubrey. “No! That’s okay. I’ll go!” she said. She pulled a large garbage can over to the side of the table. “Why don’t you guys toss anything we can’t use and I’ll go get some paper towels and water?”

“No. Christie!” Aubrey said through her teeth. She knew her friend was trying to get out of talking to Jonathan
and
trying to leave Aubrey alone with Grayson at the same time. But Christie was already on her way out of the room. “Hey, Jonathan! Why don’t you go help Christie!” Aubrey shouted.

Christie froze and shot Aubrey a look of death.

“I’m on it!” Jonathan said, dropping his side of the booth so that Charlie had to struggle to keep it from crashing to the floor.

“Um…thanks,” Christie said, ducking her head as she rushed out. Jonathan followed like a little puppy dog. Aubrey grinned triumphantly.

“What’s up, Gray?” Charlie called out, doing
that whole chin-jerk thing guys all over the world seemed to do by way of greeting.

“Hey, man.” Grayson placed his hands in his pockets and copied the chin jerk. Aubrey expected him to go help Charlie, especially since Jonathan had deserted him, but instead he stepped up to the table and swept a whole mess of paint-spattered poster board into the trash. Interesting. Apparently she was more appealing than Charlie. “Not having a very ‘green’ moment here, are we?” he joked.

Aubrey clucked her tongue. “I feel so bad. I hope they have more supplies.”

“Don’t worry. The Howells are always prepared. They’re like a boy-scout troop that way.” Grayson grinned.

“Good to know,” Aubrey said with a laugh. She picked up a tube of glitter that was covered in red and sloughed off the paint into the garbage can. “So, what are you doing here, anyway?”

Grayson shrugged. “Came by to help with the carnival prep.”

“Really? Isn’t there some big hoedown happening at your parents’ resort tonight?”
Aubrey asked, remembering the cocktail party on the calendar in the lobby.

“Oh, there’s always some big
something
happening over at the CSRS,” Grayson said in a facetious tone. “All the more reason to be here.”

Aubrey smiled to herself as she swiped some more paper into the trash. “So you weren’t kidding when you said you liked the vibe here.”

“Why would I be kidding? I am not an organized-activity type of guy,” Grayson said, holding his arms out at his sides. “The Spotted Owl is much more my speed. Chill. Calm. Hoedown-free.”

“Yeah. I like a good hoedown-free zone myself,” Aubrey replied, grinning.

“So that’s something we have in common,” Grayson said, looking her in the eye. Aubrey’s heart did a series of backflips and she tried not to blush. He glanced around the dining room and crossed his arms over his chest with a sigh. “It’s just too bad that—”

He stopped talking abruptly and blushed. Aubrey eyed him quizzically.

“It’s just too bad that what?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, looking away. He closed his eyes and scratched his forehead, obviously stalling. “I lost my train of thought. Does that ever happen to you?”

“All the time,” Aubrey said, though she was still convinced he’d simply been on the verge of saying something he didn’t want to say. But she wasn’t about to grill a guy she’d just met about such things. Instead, she decided to help him by changing the subject.

“I think we got it all. We just need those paper towels,” she said, glancing past him toward the door where Christie and Jonathan had long since disappeared. Grayson appeared relieved, but then his eyes narrowed.

“Oh, uh, you got a little something there,” Grayson said, wrinkling his nose and pointing at her face.

Aubrey’s hand went to her cheek. That was when she realized her fingers were covered in red paint. She could feel the sticky wetness all over her skin. She must have left a streak there when she’d touched her hair, but now it was everywhere.

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah, you just made it
a lot
worse,” Grayson said with a laugh.

“Shut up!” Aubrey replied, laughing through her embarrassment.

“I’m back!” Christie announced, bounding through the door with a couple of rolls of towels. Jonathan followed behind with a bucket of water. Christie took one look at Aubrey and her face fell. “What did you do to yourself?”

“Here.” Grayson reached for the bucket of water and took one of the towel rolls. He dunked a balled-up paper towel into the water and leaned forward as if to clean Aubrey’s face. She looked him in the eye and they both froze. Aubrey didn’t know what to do. Was Grayson really going to clean her face for her?

“Um, here,” he said, backing off and handing her the dripping towel. “I guess you should do that.”

“Yeah. Probably,” Aubrey said, chuckling.

She wiped her face with the towel while Christie directed her, glancing over every now and again at Grayson. He pretended to be busying himself with wiping down the table, but he
kept glancing over at her as well. And was that a blush on his handsome, stubbly cheeks?

“There is
such
a vibe between you two,” Christie whispered to Aubrey.

“You think?” Aubrey asked, biting her lip.

“Totally.” She clapped her hands together noiselessly, her back to Grayson. “Winter carnival romance!” she whispered.

“I’ll just leave this here,” Jonathan said, placing the bucket on the floor. He’d obviously grown weary of being ignored and he walked across the room to rejoin Charlie.

“Go after him,” Aubrey said to Christie, her heart fluttering as Grayson glanced at her over Christie’s shoulder.

“What? No. We have to redo the signs,” Christie protested.

“Grayson and I can do it,” Aubrey said loudly. “Right?” she asked him.

“Oh, definitely,” Grayson said, holding up a pencil. “Don’t worry about it, Christie. I am a stickler for straight lines.”

Christie looked over at Jonathan and hesitated until Aubrey shoved her in the small of her back and made her move. “You can do this,” she
whispered in her friend’s ear. “You’re gonna be the Snow Queen, Chris. Any guy would die to have you.”

Christie grinned at this. “You’re right,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’m going in.”

Aubrey smiled as her friend walked across the room, her head held high. Then she turned to look at Grayson, her own heart skipping a beat. There
was
a vibe between her and Grayson, wasn’t there?

“So, you wanna stencil or paint?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows.

“Paint. Definitely. I am
not
a straight-line girl,” she replied.

“I’m not a straight-line guy, either. I was just trying to get rid of her,” he joked.

Aubrey laughed and found a clean piece of poster board. Grayson whistled as he grabbed a ruler and stencil. He was different from any guy she had ever known. Self-assured, mature, sarcastic, funny. Plus he was obviously a strong-willed person like herself, not going along with every little thing his family planned. And yeah, maybe he was always catching her in ridiculous situations, but so far none of that had
seemed to bother him. The guys back home would have been mocking her endlessly for her many pratfalls, but not Grayson. Grayson just kept looking at her as if she was the prettiest girl in the room, even though she had red paint in her hair and Christie was over there looking perfectly put together.