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  By Cassie Decker

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  Once in a Lifetime

  By Cassie Decker

  All his life, astrophysicist Peter has dreamed of seeing the comet that last appeared on his birthday—and won’t be seen for another thirty-eight years. Since it could be his only chance, he travels to New Zealand. But his dream might be quashed after all when his rental car breaks down on the way to the observatory. He doesn’t even have a place to stay.

  Fortunately a New Zealand native with a heart of gold offers assistance. But is kindness the only thing drawing the two men together?

  Rangi can’t leave Peter stranded so close to Christmas, and his family has plenty of room—and love—to share. While Rangi is attracted to Peter, he’s seen too many of his friends get their hearts broken by tourists. Will they manage to see the comet on its decades-long journey across the sky… and take advantage of a rare opportunity that might never come again?

  ON CHRISTMAS Eve nearly thirty-eight years ago, a father was holding his minutes-old newborn son on the third-floor maternity wing of a Baltimore hospital in the middle of an early morning snowstorm. Halfway across the world in New Zealand, periodic comet

  38P/Stephan-Oterma was beginning the last few days of its journey across the southern hemisphere’s night sky. The comet had been traversing past Earth’s gravitational field for the better part of two months and was finally heading back out into the vastness of space, not to be seen again for almost another four decades. At first glance, the two events seemed to have little to do with one another, and it wouldn’t be until years later that the unseen driving force of the universe, working to bring two people together, would become evident.

  The recurrence of the celestial event of 38P was ultimately the reason Peter, just one day from his thirty-eighth birthday, now found himself almost nine thousand miles from home, driving New Zealand’s State Highway 79 from Christchurch International Airport on his way to Lake Tekapo and the Mount John Observatory. When Peter was a small child, his father, an amateur astronomer, told him more times than Peter could count his dream of traveling to New Zealand’s South Island with his only son to view the comet’s next appearance. Peter had always been so fascinated by the thought of being an adult and his father an old man by the time 38P orbited back around that it became his dream as well. After his father’s death when Peter was in middle school, the dream became less of a fantasy and more of a necessity; Peter saw it as an homage to his father’s memory, and he would do anything he could to make the trip.

  Peter thought of his dad as he zoomed down the highway in his airport rental car, the windows rolled down to let in the warm summer air. He tried to imagine his dad’s reaction to finally being here after all these years of waiting and had to blink back the tears that suddenly and unexpectedly pricked at the backs of his eyes. He had been so young when his father passed he hardly remembered the small details of his face or even the way his voice had sounded—too many years had gone by for memories like that to stick around.

  Clearing his throat, Peter flexed his fingers over the steering wheel and forced himself to focus on the here and now. He looked out at the passing sweep of farmland with the huge expanse of sky above and gently sloped mountains hulking at the horizon. The wide-open landscape was so different than the big city confinement of Baltimore he almost had to pinch himself to make sure he was really seeing it. Peter, who had never been outside his home state, could barely believe a place existed where so much of the sky was visible. The climate, too, had been like a shock to the system when he’d gotten off the plane; when he’d left Maryland, he was ankle deep in snow, but here the seasons were flipped and he’d had to switch his winter coat out for a more summer-appropriate cotton henley upon leaving the airport. He’d been in New Zealand for almost three hours now and was still coming to grips with the fact that he was currently in a place where it was summer and only two days from Christmas.

  Sheep-dotted grazing fields gradually gave way to a town as Peter continued driving, and he glanced to the dashboard GPS. The interchange from Highway 79 to 8 would be coming up soon, and Peter wanted to make sure he didn’t miss it. Pushing his black-rimmed glasses up to his forehead, Peter rubbed a hand over his eyes. His vision was getting a little bleary, due only in small part to the close call with the tears earlier. He supposed a thirty-six-hour flight with minimal sleep and an inexorable creeping up of jet lag would do that to a man. He promised himself a hot shower and a well-deserved nap as soon as he got to his hotel in Lake Tekapo; he just had to power through the next half hour.

  Bringing his glasses back down to the bridge of his nose, Peter saw the sign for the turnoff as he pulled to a stop at an intersection. He waited for the few cars ahead of him to go, then inched forward. But before he even got past the crosswalk line, the rental started making an ominous knocking noise, and white smoke seeped out from under the hood.

  Even though Peter had a doctorate in astrophysics and taught university-level classes on quantum mechanics, black holes, and dark matter, he knew next to nothing about car engines. Smoke, though, was never a good sign. Alarmed, he eased off the gas, but an impatient honk from a van behind him had him driving through the intersection when he saw the road was clear, even though he didn’t feel comfortable doing so.

  Once he made it through, he pulled onto the gravel shoulder to let the cars behind him pass and looked down at the dashboard gauges. The temperature reading was going up into the danger zone, and Peter groaned. He had come so far and was so close to his destination, not to mention a shower and a bed. He seriously considered pushing the engine just a little farther to see if he could limp it the rest of the way, but the rental car seemed to have other ideas in mind.

  Before he could even put the damn thing in Park where he’d pulled over, it gave one last pitiful cough and died. Peter simply looked at the flatlined gauges and blinked. His life up to this point had been far from an easy one, but he’d had such high hopes for this trip. It was supposed to be his time to take a step back from the rigors of academic teaching and the mad rush of city life. This was his time to breathe, to find himself again, to fulfill a promise he’d made to his father. He’d just thought, maybe a little naively, that this trip was going to go a little more smoothly.

  Straightening up in the driver’s seat, Peter tried to push away the negative thoughts and exhaustion crowding his mind to come up with a solution. This was only a minor setback, an easily remedied problem. He sat for a moment, watching the smoke as it continued to rise from the hood. He was pretty certain a town of this size had another car rental branch, but he dreaded having to wait for a tow truck to pick him up, drive him there, and then have to sort out a replacement car. But an idea hit him, and he reached over to his carry-on bag in the passenger seat to rummage out his cell phone. He’d paid his data provider special international rates in advance before leaving the States and was happy to see full bars when he unlocked his phone.

  When he’d discovered ride-sharing apps a few months back at the recommendation of some of his students, Peter started using them almost exclusively to get from the university, to home, to the grocery store, to just about everywhere; it was quicker and cheaper for him than using a cab. Surely New Zealand had something like that, right?

  Sweat beaded on Peter’s temple, and he decided it was time to jump out of the driver’s seat to get some fresh air while he messed with the apps on his phone. The warm breeze was nice when it was flowing in the rolled-down windows while he drove, but sitting in a motionless car in the sun had him feeling like he was starting to bake.


  He found a bench under a tree a few steps away, which was shielded somewhat from the hot summer sun, and sat down, typing away on his phone to find the quickest ride to his destination—and to contact the rental agency to let them know they’d need to come and get their car.

  NOT MORE than five minutes away, Rangi Waipouri was loading two boxes of honey into his secondhand Corolla to take back home to his parents’ café in Lake Tekapo when his cell pinged a customer requesting a ride. Summer had been a busy driving season for him as tourists started flooding into Tekapo for the holidays, which had really helped with the bills, but this close to Christmas, he’d seen a pretty drastic drop in ride requests. The chime was a very welcome sound.

  After closing the boot, Rangi dusted his hands off on his shorts and tugged his phone out of his back pocket. He quickly agreed to the ride request and hopped in his car.

  A short drive later and he was turning onto the main drag in Fairlie. He didn’t really have to guess who had dialed in to his ride service; the smoking sedan on the side of the road pretty much gave it away. After popping in to Park behind it, Rangi pulled his long frame out of his vehicle and walked around to see his customer getting up from a bench. A breeze, well appreciated in this heat even if it was just more warm air, puffed up between them as they got close to each other, tousling the man’s brown hair. Coming to a stop before him, Rangi could see a faint dusting of gray hair mixed in with the chestnut brown at his temples, and his heart did a funny little flop. He couldn’t quite explain it, but the graying strands looked sexy as hell on this man, whose name he didn’t even know yet. He surprised himself; usually he went for younger guys and this one appeared to be a few years older.

  Smiling, Rangi pulled his sunglasses off and hooked them in his shirt collar. He reached out a hand to introduce himself. “Kia Ora there, bro, I’m Rangi. You rang in for a ride?”

  The man nodded and accepted the handshake. His palm was warm but dry, and a curious tingle traveled up Rangi’s fingers when they made contact.

  “Yeah, thanks. I’m Peter.” He glanced to the smoking car beside them, then centered his gaze, as blue as the pools of the Makarora River, back on Rangi. “I’ll need a lift to Lake Tekapo, if you could.”

  “No worries, I was just heading back there myself. Need help with your bags?” Rangi jerked his chin toward the two rolling suitcases on the ground behind the back bumper. They were almost completely covered with international flight stickers and tags, and if Peter’s American accent hadn’t given it away in the beginning, the luggage surely would have: he was a tourist on holiday.

  Peter looked up at him and adjusted his glasses, quiet for a moment like he was studying Rangi, before breaking out of his trance. He blinked quickly, then said, “That’d be great, thank you. I have one more in the front seat. Let me grab it real quick.”

  While Peter went back to the car, Rangi toted the suitcases to the boot and loaded them in carefully beside the small crates of honey his mum had him buy for the traditional Māori rewena paraoa bread she was making this week for the café. The luggage seemed pretty heavy, and Rangi wondered how long Peter would be staying and what sort of sightseeing he’d be doing while he was there.

  Warmth that had nothing to do with the summer heat crept up on his cheeks as he closed the trunk. He sounded like some sort of stalker in his head, and he knew his sister would have berated him endlessly if she was there and could read his mind. He had a habit of asking too many questions, of being too nosy. He couldn’t help it, though; he had a genuine curiosity about other people: where they were going, where they were coming from, their life story. It was why this job as driving for a ride share, even if it was one of the many jobs he held, was so perfect for him. He loved meeting new people, and seeing the South Island through a first-time visitor’s eyes, especially the tourists from across the ocean, gave him an unending appreciation for the place he’d always called home.

  Peter was at the passenger side with a small duffel bag hanging on his shoulder, looking at the still-smoking car, when Rangi came back around. “That thing really carked it, eh? Need me to call you a tow truck before we head out?” He noticed for the first time how tired Peter looked.

  Shaking his head, Peter climbed in his seat. “Nah. The rental company is on their way to deal with it. I let them know I’d call them and get another one taken care of when I get to my hotel.”

  Rangi shrugged and popped into the driver’s seat. “All good, bro.” He turned over the engine and eased his car into First.

  The drive to Lake Tekapo wasn’t too far from Fairlie where he’d picked Peter up, but for the first bit of their trip, they were quiet. Rangi glanced at Peter as he drove down the road, thinking he might have fallen asleep for how silent it was in the car, but then he noticed Peter was just looking out at the passing scenery intently. Rangi watched him take it all in.

  The little highway connecting the two towns was one Rangi had driven countless times, and the landscape tended to fade into the background for him. But as he looked at Peter, he could see how his focus danced over the sweeping green fields and the lush trees that reached up to soak in the summer sun. It was like Rangi himself was seeing it all for the first time. He smiled without realizing it.

  After a few more moments, Rangi felt like his time with Peter was slipping away the closer they got to their destination. He didn’t want to be a busybody, as his sister so often accused him of being, but he was intrigued by the American in the seat to his left and wanted to know more about him.

  “So, what brings you to New Zealand?” he asked, breaking the amicable silence. “Business or pleasure? Maybe a bit of both?” He wriggled his eyebrows.

  Peter turned away from the passenger-side window to look at Rangi, giving him a smile. “Mostly pleasure, I guess? There’s currently a comet passing overhead that only makes its appearance this close to Earth every thirty-eight years, and it’s only visible in the southern hemisphere in an area with minimal light pollution. It’s sort of a once-in-a-lifetime thing that I made a promise to see. The Mount John Observatory in Lake Tekapo is the perfect vantage point to be able to view it before it’s gone for another forty years.”

  The way he lit up when he talked made Rangi’s chest tighten with the excitement Peter so clearly felt, but he could also sense a sadness behind his words. He wondered who he had made the promise to and if something had happened to them and if that was why Peter was traveling alone. His thoughts almost ran away with him, but Rangi’s sister appeared in his head again, scolding him against prying, and so he let it go.

  “There’s a little restaurant on the hill up by that observatory,” Rangi said as a way of stopping himself from getting too personal. “You should check it out when you’re there. Their coffee is the best on the planet, or so they say.”

  “Best on the planet?” Peter pursed his lips, considering. Rangi’s gaze was instantly riveted on his mouth for a moment before looking back to the road. “Guess I can’t pass up something like that.”

  “Definitely not. There’s heaps of things like that to see in Tekapo while you’re there. How long are you staying?”

  Peter adjusted his glasses. “At least until the comet has started moving away again. The university I teach at is in between semesters right now for Christmas break, so I might stay a couple weeks. My only goal is seeing 38P up close and personal before it’s gone. After that?” Peter shrugged, looking out the window for a moment. “Who knows? I’m just taking it one day at a time. I’ve never really had time off work for a vacation before, so I want to just soak it all in, leave it up to chance for once.”

  “You teach? Sweet as. What kind of classes?”

  Peter looked a little confused at Rangi’s slang at first, but then he smiled warmly. “Astrophysics. I’m a professor at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.”

  Rangi was impressed. “I took some classes at uni for a couple semesters, but nothing as advanced as all that.”

  Peter turned more in his
seat, intrigued. “Really? What did you study?”

  “Just a few basic courses. I wanted to get a business degree to help my folks with their café.”

  “You only did a few semesters, though? Why?”

  Rangi rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, embarrassed. He wasn’t used to being the one to answer questions from strangers; he was usually the one doing the asking. And the whole uni thing was not really something he liked talking about. He wasn’t sure why he even brought it up to Peter in the first place. He had really enjoyed the classes, sure, but the more he took, the harder they became. And then Papa had gotten sick and Rangi quit altogether. His family had needed his help working more than he needed a degree. So now here he was, working three jobs to help support them. He didn’t really mind all that much, though; his family meant more to him than anything.

  “It just didn’t work out, is all,” he replied.

  Peter looked like he wanted to dig a little deeper, but his mobile chimed an alert. Peter apologized and focused on his message. Rangi thankfully didn’t have to divulge any more about it. There was quiet again in the car as Peter scrolled down his smartphone and Rangi concentrated on the road. They were less than ten minutes from town, and Rangi realized he hadn’t asked Peter what hotel he was staying at.

  He was about to mention it to Peter so he’d know where to turn off once they were in Tekapo, but Peter suddenly exclaimed, “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “What’s happened?” Rangi asked, pulling his visor down to block the sun as they went around a bend in the road.

  Peter huffed out a frustrated sigh, motioning to the offending information on his phone even though Rangi couldn’t see it. “My hotel just sent me an email saying there’s been a water main break and they can’t accommodate any guests at this time. I’ve had this room reserved for months now.” Peter pushed his glasses up into his hair and rubbed a hand down his face, looking more knackered than ever. Still ridiculously handsome, though.