Chapter 26
Charlotte
“I’m going to admit something here,” I say to Josie as we stand at the end of the event hall. Everyone is sitting at the oak tables enjoying a brunch buffet. “I didn’t think Gavin was going to deliver when I said we needed a true, inner-city brunch for the first morning.”
“We have a waffle bar, eggs benedict, frittatas, and avocado toast,” she says. “I’d say he really delivered,” she adds, and I smile.
Yes, he did.
“So, how are things going?” she asks.
“Well, so far, I think it’s been smooth. Everyone that is supposed to be here made it despite the icy roads. Last night was a hit thanks to ladder ball, good drinks, and the fire pits. The brunch is fabulous, so I’d say overall, even though it’s only day one–”
“I’m not talking about the wedding,” she says, and I look over at her. Josie is smiling, and I know what she means now. Of course, I play dumb.
“What do you mean?” I ask. I suppose that if I am going to pretend not to know what she’s referring to, I should stop staring at what she is referring to.
Or whom she is referring to, should I say.
It’s kind of hard to do when I can see him standing across the room.
He’s hard to miss in those black fitted jeans and forest green jacket.
“Well, maybe if you stop drooling for a moment we can talk about it,” she says as she gives me a nudge.
“But look at him,” I say. “Seriously. Can you believe that man is forty-five? Looking like that? It’s a crime!”
“And that makes you guilty by association,” she chuckles. My cheeks redden at the suggestion of what Gavin and I have done.
“Well, I can’t keep associating with him,” I say, straightening my dress as much as I can. It’s fitting a little more snugly these days, mostly in the breast area.
“What do you mean?” Josie asks, munching on a fruit cup.
“We banter and bicker a lot, and people might get the wrong idea. They might think we are flirting,” I whisper with a smile as my eyes sweep over the room.
I’m doing my best not to let my gaze land on Gavin, but it’s not easy.
Especially when he is blatantly doing the same thing on the other side of the room.
I can’t help but wonder who else it’s blatant to.
“But you do flirt with him,” she says. “You two flirt a lot.”
“We do not!” I snap. Then I chew my lip. “We do?”
“You do,” she laughs.
“But is it obvious?” I ask.
“Only to anyone paying attention,” she says.
“Okay,” I nod. “That can’t be very many people, right? I mean, most people are paying attention to the bride and groom or fixated on all the free food and drinks.”
“Of course, of course. Why would anyone be ogling the attractive father of the groom?” She winks, and I sigh. “Speaking of drinks. I’m getting a mimosa before Ben’s sister drinks the pitchers dry. You want anything?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’ll come with you. I suppose I can at least pretend there’s vodka in the cucumber water,” I mumble, and she smiles, linking arms with me as we wade through the tables of people.
We hit the bar first for Josie’s mimosa. The bartender is a young blonde with a cute smile that tells me he could be trouble. He smiles at Josie. “Just a mimosa?” he asks. “I could make you anything you want.”
“Well, considering it’s ten in the morning, I think I’m going to stick with spiked OJ,” she smiles.
“Maybe later, then?” he asks.
“Yeah,” she smiles again. “Maybe later.”
“I’ll come find you,” he winks and we walk away.
“What was that all about?” I ask, looking back at him. He’s still staring at Josie and I smile. “He’s cute.”
“He’s one of the groomsmen,” she says.
“One of Ben’s friends? Then he’s trouble.”
“I could go for a little trouble…” she smirks and we both snigger.
Over at the main table, the bride and groom are laughing about something, and a crowd is gathering.
Josie pulls out her camera. “I'd better go capture the chaos,” she says, and I smile as she walks away. Meanwhile, I head for refreshments.
As I dispense a glass of infused water into a cup, I feel Gavin standing behind me before I even turn around.
“You have a fun family,” I say as I turn around. Sure enough, he’s close enough that if I’d started walking, I would have run right into him.
“I like to think so,” he says. “Not a mimosa fan?” he asks, nodding down at my cucumber water.
“I kind of stick to that five o’clock somewhere rule in the time zone I’m in,” I answer with a smile. Then I remember what Josie says and make a point to dial it back a notch, though it’s not without trouble. This man makes it hard to act casual, especially with how close he is to me.
“Funny thing though, I don’t see you partaking much even in the after-hours,” he says, also smiling. But I mean, what’s wrong with that? Just two grown adults with mutual friends and mutual interests smiling during a conversation.
“You caught me,” I say. “It makes me feel bloated.”
Gavin laughs at that, which, if I am being honest, is what I was going for. “Impossible to believe, but whatever you say. So, brunch was a success. What’s next on the docket?”
“You tell me,” I say. “You own the place.”
“I hired you to plan the week. Every single detail,” he says, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“Skiing,” I answer, ending the game of footsie since we both know the answer.
“Ah yes, skiing. You got your skis and boots rented yet?” he asks, and a laugh bubbles out of me.
“Oh, I don’t ski,” I tell him, looking down at my tablet.
“But it’s a ski resort,” he says with a grin.
“I’m also standing in a room with an open bar, and yet, I don’t have a drink in my hand. It’s a sneak peek at my rebellious side. Cherish it; it rarely makes public appearances,” I say, taking a step towards the door.
But Gavin steps in front of me, walking backward. “What about your adrenaline junkie side? Any chance she’ll poke her head out of the snow or, in your case, the sweater dress today?” he asks, and I give him an annoyed look.
“Really? Insulting the dress again?” I ask.
“Not at all. Your tits look great today,” he says, and the look of annoyance shifts to one of shock.
“Shut up,” I whisper-yell. “Someone is going to hear you.”
“Hear me what?” he laughs. “Complimenting you?”
“Hitting on me,” I correct him.
“Gee, I didn’t know I was. Silly me. So how about those slopes?” he asks as he stops in the doorway, barring me in. Elias’s kids run under and around us, and I give him an exhausted sigh, though it is brimmed with a smile.
“Unfortunately, my adrenaline isn’t a junkie. It prefers to stay at lower, less exciting levels and heights. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a wedding to supervise.”
I try to go around him, but this time he actually grabs me by the arm and swings me back around.
“And I have a wedding planner to supervise,” he says. It occurs to me that he isn’t going to stop until I agree to his charade.
“How about I come to the slopes with everyone and greet them at the bottom?” I ask.
“That doesn’t sound much like skiing,” he says, pulling me closer. My heart speeds up in my chest, partly because of his hands on my hips and partly because we might get caught.
“The bunny hill then,” I say.
“The bunny hill?” he asks. “You’ll go on the bunny hill?”
“I’ve never skied before, so it seems appropriate,” I answer, my eyes flashing between his face and the door. “Does it require using the lift?” I ask.
“No, it’s at the base of the mountain,” he answers.
“Good.”
“Great.”
“Perfect.”
“See you there,” he says, finally releasing me. I’d be kicking myself right now for what I just got myself into, except that I’m too busy trying to get my head to stop spinning.
* * *
“It’s easy once you get the hang of it,” Brody tells me before coasting down the hill. The bunny hill is not as small as I thought it’d be. It’s bigger than any sledding hill I ever went on as a kid. If I’d known it was going to be this big, I would have never agreed to do this.
“Sure, make it look easy,” I mutter as I stand with my rented boots glued to my rented skis. I’m gripping my rented poles or sticks or whatever the heck they’re called. If I didn’t have gloves on, you could see the white of my knuckles.
“Are you okay, Miss Charlotte?” Evie asks, and I smile down at her.
“Yeah, I’m just warming up,” I tell her with a forced smile.
“Do you want to go first?” she asks.
“No…no, why don’t you go?” I say, swallowing so I won’t throw up.
“Okay!” she smiles and with a whoosh she’s gone.
Unfortunately, she is the only one about to whoosh down. This hill is a mountain in my book, and I’m looking for the monorail down.
“You know, the best way to get to the bottom of the hill is to use those things stuck to your feet,” he jokes until he sees my face.
“I’m aware,” I snap. “But this was not my idea. It was yours. And I am having second thoughts.”
“Hey,” he says, moving closer to me. “It’s cake, I promise. Just remember the pizza stance and you’ll do fine. Tips closer together. Heels further–”
“I know, I know,” I say. “Heels apart.”
“Glide straight. You don’t need to turn on the bunny hill,” he goes on. “And remember, the wider the pizza slice, the–”
“I got it, I got it!” I say, and while I am still shaking in my boots, the idea of him having an edge on me pisses me off. I’m ready to put the mountain between us, even if it is just a hill.
I take a deep breath and push off. A screech leaves my mouth as I start to sail.
“There you go, you got it!” I hear Gavin say behind me. And for a minute, I believe I really did get it.
For a minute, I am shooting down the hill, the crisp wind in my hair and the world below me.
I let out a whoop of victory, reveling in all the ways I can rub this in his face when I reach the bottom.
Suddenly, I realize just how quickly I am coming to the bottom.
At the bottom there are about a hundred people just hanging out.
Most of them are children who apparently weren’t told not to play where people who don’t know how to turn are coming in hot off the hill.
What did he say about stopping again? The smaller the pizza slice, the faster the slow down? No. The larger the pizza…
Crap.
I am in full-blown panic mode as I near the crowd of people. I’m unable to figure out the pizza sizes and what they have to do with my feet, so I resort to flailing and yelling.
“Out of the way! Look out!” I scream before losing my balance and landing face-first in a soft fluff of snow.
“Charlotte? Charlotte!” Gavin’s voice is muffled because I’m literally stuck cartoonishly in the mound of snow. But a moment later, I am being lifted out.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“You know, I’ve never been much of a pizza fan if I’m being honest,” I say with a small, delirious smile.