Chapter 12

"Thanks, Henderson." Philip and the servant backed up a couple of steps on the ice to inspect their work. Since forcing screws into the ice was somewhat suicidal, they'd carried about ten heavy bags of sand to anchor the goal posts and nets.

"Hey, dudes," said Jason, running up through the snow with the rest of the gear. "Damn, you even got the red light for when the puck crosses the goal line."

Philip grinned. "Dad got me some hand-me-down Penguins equipment. Pretty cool, huh?"

As Jason gawked, Henderson patted Philip on the shoulder. "You all have a good time. I'll serve the hot cocoa, when Miss Chloe and your friends arrive."

"Thanks," replied Philip.

He watched the faithful Henderson trudge back up to the house. In more ways than one, he was grateful to the servant who looked after him, when his parents couldn't. Even now, Henderson regularly checked his homework and nursed his cuts and bruises. Henderson and the rest of the staff had practically raised him. From the scullery maid to the limousine driver, they were his family, he realized.

So, it meant more than he could admit that Henderson approved of Chloe and that the entire staff went out of their way to make her feel welcome. They knew him well enough that they recognized what Chloe meant to him and acted accordingly. And they adored her. Not only because she was the master's beloved, but also because she approached them as members of his household, in addition to experts in their trade.

Philip stood back to survey the grand mansion, which reigned atop the hill, and then the vast acres surrounding it. He may never know financial hardship and obstacles associated with it, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate a blessing. He'd spend the afternoon with his closest friends and maybe here and there steal some private moments with his girlfriend. And she'd be safe here. With him, she'd never have to doubt that. He'd make sure of it.

"Hey, K-Man," said Jason, interrupting his thoughts. Jason sat on an old wooden bench on the shore. "Who else is coming? I heard Henderson say 'friends,' as in plural."

Phil grabbed his skate to carve a shallow pattern in the ice to mark the midpoint between goals. "Chloe's bringing Belle and Mimi."

"Whoa," exclaimed Jason, as the laces fell from his fingers. "Uh, I told you that Shawn's coming, right?"

"Huh?" muttered a distracted Philip, picking up the broom to sweep back stray ice chips and snow.

"I said, Shawn's coming, too," repeated Jason, enunciating precisely.

"Shawn?" The broom paused, as the name struck home. "Shawn's coming? Here?"

"Hello, earth to Phil? I told you he was coming, when I got here, remember?"

No, he didn't remember. When Jason had arrived, he was busy making special arrangements for the coming weekend and other plans. "Wait. Shit."

"Exactly," agreed Jason.

Philip ran a hand through his hair. "The girls are supposed to arrive at any minute."

"So's Shawn." Jason shook his head and finished lacing his skates.

"Well, what are we gonna-"

"Hi, guys," greeted Chloe from atop the hill with Belle and Mimi trailing behind her on the snow-blown path.

When she reached him, Philip hauled her against him and spun her around.

She laughed, "Philip!" and blushed at this very public display of affection.

He cut her off with a hard kiss. "Hey," he said finally, his eyes trying not to dwell on the bruise marring her cheek.

Meanwhile, Belle and Mimi watched with a mixture of envy and annoyance.

"Oh, Belle! Oh, Mimi!" Jason called out in a voice, reminiscent of Mickey Mouse. In playful mock, Jason ran up to them on his hockey skates and picked them both up, swinging them in a circle.

They giggled helplessly, then screamed, as Jason's balance bowed under the extra weight and unconventional movement. They all landed in a hilarious heap in the snow, while Philip and Chloe doubled over laughing.

Acting as cushion for two wriggling females, Jason could think of worse things. He grinned up at his friends, "What I lack in finesse, I make up in number."

"Jason!" laughed the girls, as they gave him synchronized smacks to the shoulders.

Smiling, Chloe looked up. "Oh, hi, Shawn," then gasped, "Shawn."

"Hey, guys," Shawn said uneasily. He'd followed the laughter to find his friends horsing around in the snow. With Belle.

Belle and Mimi quickly scrambled to standing, while Jason grimaced in apprehension, before he rose, as well. "Hey, dude," said Jason and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, Jase," replied his friend flatly.

Because she remembered previous disastrous attempts to reach him, Belle's eyes jumped about, unable to look at him.

"Listen, Shawn-" began Philip.

"Could I talk to Belle for a second, alone?" asked Shawn, his eyes meeting with each of his friends plainly.

His friends looked at each other in uncertainty.

Chloe finally hooked her arm with Philip's. "Of course, Shawn." She pulled a worried Philip away.

Plucking off his skates and stepping into his boots, Jason nodded. He considered Philip and Chloe's direction, thought better of it, and led a mentally drooling Mimi from the scene.

After everyone left, Shawn finally turned to a very quiet Belle. His breath steamed in the crisp cold air. She looked so small and delicate in her pink earmuffs and puffy white coat. As always, so feminine. As always, so perfect.

What could he say? "Belle-"

Then, her eyes looked up to meet his. They were so achingly blue and filled with tears.

His heart twisted. "I-I'm so sorry, Belle." His eyes, dried from so many already fallen tears, burned nevertheless. "I-"

She walked up and put her arms around him.

He cried then, as her capacity to give overwhelmed him, and held her tight. "I was so crazy…" He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry I said all those things."

She sniffed against his chest.

His arms tightened around her. "I didn't mean it. Any of it."

She closed her eyes, as the suffocating burden upon her heart lifted. "I know."

"I-I-"

She pulled back and gently smoothed his cheeks. "I know."

Humbled beyond imagination, he looked into those incredibly clear blue eyes. Just like that, he was forgiven. With a trembling hand, he ran his knuckles ever so lightly over her cheekbone and whispered, "Belle…" Then, his lips met hers in a tenuous kiss. The fabric of her coat sang, as her arms slid over his shoulders and wound around his neck.

Overhead, a glittery blue butterfly fluttered toward the sun.

"Would you stop obsessing?" Jason dislodged a twig, sticking out of the snow, and threw it across the white field. "They'll be ok."

"I know that. And I'm not obsessing," huffed Mimi, taking another nervous look at the trail, which they'd left behind.

"See? You're obsessing," he said, noticing how interested his companion was with the scene behind them beyond the trees. "You'd think it were you back there," he grumbled.

"Hey," she piped, coming to a stop with the snow up to her knees, "For your information, I'm not 'obsessing' over Shawn and Belle, alright? I know everything's going to turn out okay for them." She resumed the messy trek toward God knows where. "It always does," she muttered under her breath.

"Then, what the hell is it?" he asked, coming up behind her. "Your eyes have been glued in that direction, since we started."

She locked her eyes forward and chewed her lip, before she replied, "I'm just making sure we don't get lost." At least that was partially true. The land seemed to stretch for miles, and with the snow there were no identifiable landmarks. The trees had grown thick enough that the mansion was obscured. Philip and Chloe were probably making out somewhere, she thought.

"Oh, is that all?" he grinned with confidence. "No worries, Meems. I know this place like the back of my hand. Phil and I played here together since fifth grade."

"Great. Just great," she mumbled, unimpressed.

"What is up with you?" asked Jason with some frustration, as she only cut faster through the snow away from him. "Are you still mad at me for saying that stuff about you and Shawn?"

When he received no response, he looked heavenward and relented. "Jeez, I'm sorry, ok?"

She simply pressed on deeper into the growing forest without a word.

"Damn," he huffed, more in irritation than in fatigue. "What? You still mad about me kissing you?" Tired of this cat and mouse chase, he finally caught up with her and took hold of her arm to turn her around.

Mimi whimpered in pain. His hand released her immediately.

"Oh, my God, Mimi. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know I was holding on so hard-"

"It's not you," she said, interrupting his apologetic rambling, and rubbed her sore arm. "I just got a bruise there."

His eyes narrowed with some confusion, then sharpened. "From that asshole."

"It's nothing, ok? I think we should get back-"

His hand took her gently but firmly by the chin. "It's not nothing. Asshole should have gotten more than a beating."

"Look," she began. Then, the look in his eyes nearly made her knees buckle. "I-I really think we should get back." She freed her chin from his grasp and stepped back into the crushed snow. She shivered but wasn't sure, if it was from the cold.

Jason blinked at her retreating figure and threw his hands up in the air. "You know," he said at a near shout, bringing her to a halt, "I really don't get you." He watched her turn with some anxiety to face him. "You told me you liked me. And you sure as hell, by now, should know I like you. So, what's the problem?"

"I guess the hockey idea's kind of a bust, huh?" said Philip, carefully clasping Chloe's fingers in his, as they walked toward the east gardens.

"Maybe we could try it, after everything settles down," she assuaged. "What an interesting afternoon this turned out to be." She hoped that everything would work out for her friends. Stealing a glance at his chiseled profile, she sighed, realizing now that she was happy, she wanted the people she cared about to know the same happiness.

They walked to the Japanese style gazebo and chose a cozy corner to escape the chilly breeze and look at the elegant Oriental garden with miniature manmade waterways - now frozen - running throughout. Chloe sat on the solid bamboo bench padded with thick cushions, while Philip drew down the bamboo shades to further ward off the chill. Sunlight streamed mystically through. Finally, he joined her on the bench. With his back to the wall and one leg stretched out on the bench, he pulled her back against him. Sighing, she turned to her side and rested her forehead under his jaw.

"Are you cold?" he asked softly, stroking her endless hair.

"A little," she replied, her eyes growing heavy, as they often did from his touch.

"Here, sit up a minute." After she did, he unzipped his jacket, pulled her back against him, and wrapped the jacket around her, so only her eyes peeked over the collar. "Henderson used to carry me around in his coat like this, when I was little."

Chloe chuckled through the thick jacket, "Really?"

"Yeah. I'd want to see the horses or something, but no matter how many hats and layers I wore, I'd freeze my butt off. So, he carried me inside his coat. Not only was I warm, but they were better than piggy-back rides."

"That was sweet. I should thank him later for taking care of you and giving you this great idea," she smiled against his neck. Her hand moved up to settled over his heart. "I got your note."

He thought a moment, before he remembered and his dimples came in full force. "Yeah?"

"Thank you," she said, planting kisses up his neck, ear, cheek, then mouth.

The kiss began achingly sweet, but grew hungry, as their tongues clashed. His hands moved to her hips to press her flush against him. She gasped, when his urgent heated breath moved across her cheek to do crazy things to her ear.

"Oh God, Chloe," he murmured, as he felt his control spiraling, his fingers moving to pull open her coat.

Her eyes widened then threatened to close, when his hand closed possessively over her breast. Her nails bit into his shoulders. She could only hold on, as her insides swirled and his mouth fixed desperately over hers. All these feelings - some old, many new - overwhelmed her by their power. Her body responded with instincts ingrained by nature, while her mind scrambled to keep up with struggling rationality developed by experience.

His breathing - labored and harsh - excited her in unexplainable ways, as he groaned, "I want you so bad. Please, beautiful, I don't know how much longer I can wait."