Chapter Four
COLE
He was losing it. Usually he kept his cool around pretty women, but there was something about Aspen that made him act like a complete moron.
He sat at his kitchen table, sipping his hot cocoa, and added a dollop of freshly made whipped cream.
He would have shared some with her, but it was better fresh from the bowl.
He shuddered at the thought of what it would have tasted like if he’d given her hot chocolate topped with warm, melted cream instead of the fresh, perfectly whipped cream crowned with a few shavings of dark chocolate.
He chuckled at what she had said: “If you don’t make it in the tour guide business, you could always open a hot cocoa shop called Kris Kringle’s Cocoa.
” It wasn’t as though he hadn’t thought about it before—opening a little shop at the resort with his homemade hot chocolate, complete with all the toppings he had perfected over the years.
He shook his head as he took his last sip, cringing as the grittiness of the cocoa washed over his tongue.
It was always the worst part: the last sip, which should have been the best, was always gritty and almost not worth drinking.
But he couldn’t bring himself to waste it, finishing every drop, every time, without fail.
One woman had even begged him to carry her to the top, insisting her tip would be worth every extra penny if she could ride on his back like he were a sherpa.
There were always three guides on every hike—one in case a tourist needed extra attention or if an emergency, injury, or other mishap occurred along the way, one to descend with the snowboarders off the dropoff, and another who was usually in training.
Tomorrow, his buddy Jack would be joining him on the hike, and he couldn’t have been happier.
Along with Jack, a newbie trainee named Paul—just starting his first season—would be there as well.
Jack and Cole had been friends for years, even roommates for a while, until Jack got hitched and, a few years later, became a dad.
Sometimes Cole glanced at his own life and wondered how he’d ended up left in the dust while his friends continued on their journey.
It wasn’t for lack of trying. He had gone on dates and had a few serious relationships, but in the end, it never felt right in his heart.
He wanted to grow old with someone, yet the women he met seemed more interested in the material things in life—the house, the car, the dog, the “things.” Yes, he wanted those things too, but he also wanted the simple life: a cabin in the hills, a wife who didn’t mind getting up early to hike to the top of Mynt Peak and snowboard down while the sun rose in the distance.
But every woman he’d met shied away from early mornings, caring more about appearances than getting their hair messed up by the wind or their faces chapped by the icy bite of snow as they shot down the mountain on their boards.
Until he met that woman, a woman who cared more about experiences and having fun together, making memories that would last a lifetime, and teaching their children to do the same, he would keep looking.
The image of a pink-haired angel flashed in his mind, and he shook it away as he made his way to his bedroom.
He lay down on his bed and listened as the wind whistled through the panes while he snuggled into the covers.
He had learned to sleep with the door open so the room would stay warm through the night.
His thoughts drifted to Aspen, and he hoped she was keeping warm in her cabin.
Cole settled in and smiled to himself in the darkness, the fireplace casting dancing shadows across the walls.
Had he really done finger guns at Aspen after calling himself “neighborly”?
He let out a loud snort, punched his pillow, rolled onto his side, and closed his eyes.
He still couldn’t believe his new neighbor was Aspen Sterling.
Sure, she was a little prickly, but knowing what his mom had gone through with her surgery a few years back, he couldn’t blame her for being a bit grouchy.
He hoped he’d get to go snowboarding with her while she was here.
That would be a memory to tuck away forever.
And memories were something he loved to make and keep.