Chapter Three
RAGNAR STOOD AS big and stable as a towering tree beside Birdie inside the lodge, his dark eyes scanning the room, one hand resting on her back.
Could he feel her heart pounding through her jacket as he guided her toward a table?
Why was she so nervous? She never got nervous around guys.
She was an expert at keeping the upper hand.
Not that she’d lost it with him. He exuded raw power, but not the type that scared her.
Having grown up in a biker family, she knew all kinds of men and had honed her senses to sniff out guys who reeked of bad decisions.
Ragnar didn’t feel like that. He had a steady, calm presence, like he didn’t need to waste energy trying to prove himself, and she liked that.
“Let’s sit at the bar,” she suggested, pocketing her gloves. Tables were meant for small talk and awkward silences. She wasn’t great at either.
With a nod, he headed in that direction.
At the bar, Ragnar helped her take off her jacket, his gaze moving over the tight red shirt she wore beneath with the same heat-inducing intensity as it had when she’d taken off her helmet by the lockers, sending another prickling wave of awareness through her.
“Thanks,” she said as he hung it on the back of a tall bar chair. She could count on one hand the number of times a guy had helped her with her jacket. It felt almost outdated, and she loved it. Does that make me old-fashioned? She pondered that as she sat down.
He pulled off his hat and raked a hand through his shoulder-length brown hair, pushing it away from his face.
Birdie’s breath caught. Without the distraction of his hat, he was even more striking.
He had a strong jaw, straight nose, and a mouth that clearly didn’t waste smiles.
Even his deep-set dark eyes appeared more serious and all-seeing, like her brother Cowboy’s.
Although there was nothing brotherly in the way Ragnar looked at her.
He shrugged off his coat, uncovering his impossibly muscled chest and arms beneath a snug-fitting black layer. Yum. He hung his coat on the back of the chair beside her and sat down, his thick thigh brushing her leg. Neither of them pulled away.
A little thrill skated through her as they ordered a hot toddy for her and a beer for him.
Ragnar arched a brow. “Well, isn’t that drink fitting?”
“Thank you,” she said with a shoulder shimmy.
“This place always smells like wet clothes and whiskey after dark. It sounds terrible, but it’s actually comforting.
Like everyone survived the day, and now we’re all thawing out together.
I love watching people come in, buzzing from the mountain, not knowing what to do with all that leftover adrenaline.
Have you ever noticed how some people get real quiet, and others are loud?
Or they immediately order tequila, which feels like overkill, but to each his own. ”
She paused to thank the bartender when he brought their drinks, then took a sip. “Mm. So good. I usually land somewhere in the middle, between quiet and loud, I mean. But I like watching people go from adrenaline junkie to chilling out.”
His lips quirked.
“So,” she said lightly, realizing that she was acting like a firehose. “Are you always this quiet, or am I intimidating you?”
He picked up his glass. “I’m enjoying listening to you.” He nodded to her ankle. “Comfortable?”
She wiggled her foot, warmed by his concern, and said, “Yeah. Either my ankle is a drama queen, or adrenaline is a miracle drug.”
He huffed a soft laugh, and the sound settled low in her stomach. “That might have something to do with the fact that you’re not putting pressure on it.”
“Way to burst my bubble,” she teased, bumping him with her shoulder. “So, Viking.” She swirled her drink. “Do you come here often?”
“I used to.”
She glanced at him. “Why’d you stop?”
He shrugged.
“Ah. You’re the mysterious type.”
“How about you?” he asked with a lift of his chin.
“Not that often, but enough to enjoy it.”
“Do you always snowboard alone?”
“Not if I can help it,” she said, earning a tick in his jaw. “I’m here for the weekend with friends, but they’re off being madly in love in their cabin, or on the slopes, or in the woods. I never know with them. My cousin was supposed to come with us, but he had to work.”
“Can’t say I feel bad about that,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Me, either.” She lifted her glass. “To collisions and terrible timing.”
He cocked a brow. “I think you mean selective awareness.”
“I was very aware,” she said, knowing she wasn’t, but she liked volleying with him.
“Of your phone.”
“Multitasking is a skill.”
Those piercing eyes remained trained on her. “You always this confident?”
“Only when I’m right.” She lifted her glass higher. “To questionable decisions.”
His glass remained on the bar. “Given the way we met, you seem well acquainted.”
“I’ll admit that filming while snowboarding might not have been the smartest decision, but hey, I got to meet you.
” She flashed a cheesy grin. “I might make a few questionable decisions, but that’s what life’s about, right?
Having fun, making mistakes, and experiencing things while we’re young.
Don’t get the wrong impression. I’m not the kind of girl who goes home with every guy I meet or gets rip-roaring drunk every night. ”
Still making no move to pick up his glass, he said, “What kind of girl are you?”
She opened her mouth to tell him about how she’d always worked hard to keep up with her brothers and how far she’d come on her own but remembered she was supposed to be mysterious. Reining in that urge, she said, “A no-bullshit one.”
“I’ll drink to that.” He finally lifted his glass and tapped it to hers.
“Wow, you really make a girl earn a toast, don’t you?” She smiled with the tease. “Okay, Viking, give me three words.”
“For what?”
“To describe me,” she said. “You’ve been studying me.”
His gaze moved thoughtfully over her. “Bright.”
“Careful,” she said, leaning into him. “Compliments will go straight to my head.”
“Already seems crowded in there,” he teased.
She smiled.
“Multifaceted,” he added.
She lowered her voice. “Is that code for complicated?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“You’re dead honest. I like that,” she said. “What’s the third word?”
“Fearless.”
“You’re good.”
He smirked.
That silent innuendo did not go unnoticed. “Now I’ll do you!”
That smirk turned into a sinful grin. “Lucky me.”
She smiled and leaned into him. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Sure you didn’t.” Their eyes locked over the rim of his glass as he took a drink.
Her chest got all fluttery.
“Go ahead, Trouble,” he said, setting down his glass. “Take your best shot.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Watchful, intense, and considerate. And guarded, which is kind of the same as watchful, and quietly dangerous, but not the scary kind of dangerous. More like enticingly dangerous, because you’re mysterious.
They kind of go together. Most guys aren’t mysterious at all.
They’re like those short stories that have just enough depth to get you through them but never enough to leave you wanting more. ”
His brow lifted. “That’s a hell of a lot more than three words.”
“You’re a big guy. You need more words.”
A corner of his mouth tipped up. “Are you always this bold with people you’ve just met?”
“Only the ones who don’t flinch.”
He took another drink, his eyes never leaving hers. Desire crackled between them, their legs touching more purposefully beneath the bar.
Turning her glass slowly, she said, “Are you always this intense?”
“You’re hard to look away from. It’s distracting.”
That gave her pause. “In a good way?”
“Undecided.” He took a drink, his eyes still on her, the tease glimmering in them.
“Ouch.” She nudged his arm with her elbow. “You wounded me.”
“I doubt that,” he said. “You strike me as pretty damn resilient.”
She lifted a brow. “Are you saying I’m hard to kill?”
“I’m saying I wouldn’t bet against you.”
“That’s probably smart.”
He leaned closer, his voice low. “Want me to stop staring?”
“No,” she said honestly, leaning in, too. “Do you want me to stop being distracting?”
“Absolutely not. It’s been a long time since I found anyone distracting.”
Her pulse skipped. “Me too,” she admitted, before she could think not to. This trying-to-be-mysterious thing was difficult.
“That’s a little hard to believe,” he challenged. “You seem like your mind is always going a million miles per hour, easily distractible.”
“How can you say that when I was so focused on my phone I didn’t see you jumping out of the sky?”
“Jumping.” He chuckled and shook his head.
“I’ll admit I get distracted by good chocolate, and I can’t go within fifty feet of a mechanical bull without riding it, but it’s been a long time since I’ve found anyone more interesting than a short story.”
He lifted his chin. “Is that why you’re so chatty? Do I make you nervous?”
Disappointment coasted through her. “I know I’m a lot. I warned you.” She sat back, but he caught her hand, pulling her close again, those serious eyes holding her captive.
“I didn’t say that, and I sure as hell don’t feel it,” he said earnestly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m not very good at this.”
“This?”
“Getting to know someone. I haven’t done it in a long time. I was with my ex for a few years, and it’s been a while since we broke up.”
The honesty in his voice was unmistakable. “A while? Like a few weeks or months?”
“No. She’s been out of my life for years.”
“Are you a one-night-stand guy now?” she asked. “Is that why you haven’t gotten to know anyone? I’m not judging you. I just want to know where you’re coming from.”