There were three older men who looked like they were made of bark and sinew. Obviously used to being outdoors.
Then a family of three: a husband, wife, and a teenage girl. All three of them had a sporty physique like they were used to being physical.
And there was a beautiful couple, two outdoorsy granola types with state-of-the-art equipment, and long, lean limbs.
Jameson responded with a grunt. “Santa’s coming on the hike. The reindeer will be there on the last night during the campfire.”
I furrowed my brow.
Campfire?
I thought this trip was ahike, not a camping trip. Like at the Grand Canyon, where you hike down, stay in a lodge, then hike back up again. Not that I’d ever done that trip, but I’d looked it up before.
There must be a fire pit at the lodge.
Surely that’s what he meant.
My mind drifted back to the burly mountain man who’d driven away, tuning out the rest of the tour guide’s words.
Why did this feel more like a boot camp than a pleasure stroll?
Jameson had everyone lined up, equipment being inspected while we stood at the trailhead.
The day was beautiful. Crisp, wintry, and fresh.
A day like today could clear the confusion right out of my head and give me the fresh start to the upcoming new year that I wanted.
Except right now, he was drilling me.
“Why are you here?”
“Uh, the marketing materials sucked me in. A snow hike with Santa sounded like fun.”
He sighed and looked me up and down with a tiny frown on his face. “Come here for a minute.”
Jameson pulled me away from the group, and my heart sank. Was he going to kick me off the tour before it even started?
“I drove from three states away to do this,” I told him in a rush, before he could say another word. “I’m here all the way from Georgia.”
“Look, it’s just that I’ve got some concerns here, Katie.”
He kept talking, but I lost track of everything he said because right thenSantaarrived on the scene.
Even with the beard on, I could see that it was the same man from the camping supply store earlier.
Heisgoing on the hike.
He had a full pack of gear slung on his back, red pants, and a red Santa jacket slung over his actual winter coat.
The hat on his head wasn’t exactly a classic Santa hat, but it counted close enough.
It was an old-fashioned looking red wool hat, the kind with flaps over the ears that lumberjacks used to wear. On the very top of it, someone had sewn a white pom-pom.
I grinned at the sight of him. He was even sexier like this, if that was possible.
Jameson snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Are you paying attention?” Then he glanced over his shoulder to see what I was looking at. “Boone! Get over here.”
Boone.
