Chapter 12 - Paisley
A few days went by, almost in dreamy slow motion.
It might have been shock that took over me, but nothing much bothered me, and I was busy from morning to night.
The kids were addicted to snowy activities and after I got in a quick run on my own each morning, the afternoons were spent sledding, exploring in the nearby wooded areas looking for animal tracks, and of course, snowboarding lessons with Alina.
The six-year-old graduated from the little bunny slope near the lodge and had pestered her parents to let me take her up the ski lift to more challenging trails, and of course, succeeded.
The little ones were bereft, but usually one or two of the parents were more than willing to tag along and sled with them.
It was a family vacation after all, and the Fokins were a very hands-on family, making the job super laid back, and one of the easiest I’d ever had, despite being constantly busy.
Dan was almost always one of those tagging along, a giant shadow looming over me.
He would zoom past Alina and me on a trail, showing off his natural athleticism and easy conquering of a sport I’d spent grueling hours mastering.
His grins and possessive glances had me burning up under all my snow gear. The man didn’t even try to hide it.
But the kids all adored him and he was great with them, patient and fun.
And I had to remind myself he had every right to be there, even wondering if it was my ego making me misinterpret the gleam in his eyes when they swept over me.
Then he’d say something embarrassing in his low rumble that made my mind go to places it shouldn’t and I’d remember that he was just an ass.
A big handsome ass whose looks set me on fire. It pissed me off. He pissed me off.
At least that was a distraction from Agent Pierce and his disturbing news that Mr. Caraggio was missing.
Being irritated at Dan was better than thinking about the way my former boss had looked when he left Axon for the last time.
Whether he’d been part of it and was past usefulness or just innocently came across information he wasn’t supposed to see didn’t really matter when the end result was the same.
And would be the same for me if I didn’t remain hidden from the shady forces behind it all.
The FBI agent had sent me a couple more messages and tried to call me again, but I quickly swiped them away, doing my level best to keep my mind off of it.
If he wanted information out of me, I didn’t have any, and if he wanted me to return to LA for my own supposed safety, then that was a resounding no.
I wasn’t about to screw up the chance to continue hiding in such style, and I felt safe around this tight knit family where all the men were built like towering sequoia trees.
There was nothing I could do for my missing coworkers who hadn’t been found yet, and it was highly likely they were beyond anyone’s help anyway.
There was no reason to answer his messages until this job was done and I was forced to make a decision about what to do next.
After several days of dodging Dan’s smirks and teasing, I got up early to get some time on my own on the trails. I managed to sneak out before anyone else was awake and had my board tucked under my arm, practically skipping toward the car that I was allowed to use to get down to the lift.
My butt had just hit the seat when the back door opened and a board slid onto the backseat beside mine.
Then the passenger door opened and Dan poked his head in, grinning as brightly as the morning sun peaking over the tops of the mountains.
He had on a festive red sweater that would have looked ridiculous on someone less ripped, but no one was going to be making any Santa Claus references to him.
His hand knitted hat was red too, with a big white pom pom, a recent gift from his cousin’s wife.
How did it make him look even hotter? It had to be his easy confidence. I bit back a groan, not from remembering his big hands on me, but because now my morning was shot to hell.
“I’m not on the clock,” I said, starting the car and letting it roll before he was all the way in. “Don’t expect me to give you a lesson.”
“If I make it to the lift alive, I’ll be sure to find a way down the hill on my own,” he said, snapping his door shut as I gunned it.
It was hard to ignore him as he asked how I was enjoying Aspen, how I was getting along with the kids, and just being generally pleasant, but I managed it.
The clock was ticking to when he’d be obnoxious again.
I planned to get to the top of the mountain and leave him in the dust without looking back the moment we dropped off the lift.
Due to the awkward nature of maneuvering a snowboard onto a ski lift, he hopped on behind me instead of trying to share the seat and I felt his eyes on me the whole time, disgusted that it took all my willpower not to turn around to see if I was imagining it or not.
Did I want him to be looking at me instead of the stunning scenery around us as we soared through the air?
As soon as I got off, I was in such a hurry to make sure he couldn’t follow me down one of the more difficult trails that I nearly ran into the sleepy, early morning attendant who was clearing debris from gusts of wind the night before.
I swerved hard to keep from knocking him down and the next thing I knew, the fresh snow was surrounding me and I was looking up at the sky.
And Dan, who laughingly reached down to help me up. When I ignored his outstretched hand, he rolled his eyes and ducked down to pull me up, never wobbling once. My cheeks burned as hot as where he kept his hands at my waist to steady me, his eyes dancing as he brushed the snow off my backside.
“The babysitter needs a babysitter,” he said. “How about I volunteer?”
“Ha ha,” I gritted, hopping away and turning toward the trails. “How about not.”
When I got to the start of the most difficult trail, I saw the stubborn ox resolutely getting in position behind me.
“Are you really going to risk your life for a view of my ass?” I asked angrily.
“You have no idea,” he said, his gaze dropping. He looked up at me and smiled disarmingly. “I’ve been learning by watching you. I’ll make it down alive, don’t worry.”
“Oh, I’m not worried,” I said, pushing down the glow from his admission. “I’d just rather not spend my time off dragging your broken carcass down the hill when you inevitably crash and burn.” I pointed to the warning sign and raised my eyebrows.
He only shrugged, acting like he’d swerve around me if I didn’t get a move on. With a snarl, I turned and huffed over to the next nearest trail opening, still difficult, but not deadly to a cocky beginner who happened to get lucky so far.
Without a word, I slid down, gaining speed.
The wind on my face and the breathtaking view combined with the amount of concentration it took to keep from slamming into all the nearby trees was enough to make me forget all about Dan’s arrogance.
Until he hollered from behind me. Before I could whip my head around to see what he’d gotten himself into, he zipped in front of me, the merest glimpse of his smug grin making me push my already lighting fast speed.
Was he crazy? No, he really was a natural.
I was able to pass him again, but he held his own.
The faint tinge of worry I had that he’d crash into a tree and really break his neck faded as it was clear he could handle this trail.
I wasn’t going to have to spend my morning going after an emergency rescue team after all.
When I caught some air and left him a hundred or so yards behind me up the hill, he whooped down at me, a sound of pure joy I knew all too well.
Maybe I started showing off a little then, glad to have an audience again, even if it was only one, supremely annoying person watching me perform tricks I hadn’t attempted in years.
He shouted encouragement as he tried to keep up, and by the time we got to the bottom, I turned to him with a triumphant smile that he returned.
Did he honestly look that impressed?
“Where the hell did all that come from?” he asked. “I felt like I was just watching the X Games or something.”
I shrugged. “I used to compete,” I said. I expected the feelings of regret to come rushing back, but Dan’s gushing praise held it at bay.
We snapped our boots out of our boards and headed toward the rest area that sold hot drinks and snacks.
He ordered me a coffee the way I drank it every morning, making me realize it wasn’t my ego at all.
He really was paying attention to me. For some reason I wasn’t offended, probably too exhilarated from the great ride, pumped to have redeemed myself after that ignominious spill straight off the ski lift.
“I knew you were good, but that was amazing,” he continued, setting my coffee cup down on a table close to a fireplace that crackled with inviting flames.
His proximity was usually enough to get me heated, but I slid in across from him and shrugged out of my jacket.
He did the same, smoothing down the front of his merry sweater and drawing too much unwanted attention to his rock hard pecs.
I knew exactly what was under that fluffy wool, and my palms tingled, remembering the feel of his hot skin.
He grimaced. “Ho, ho, ho,” he said when he caught me following the path of his hands. “Daria made it. Hey, I probably wouldn’t wear it to a board meeting, but it’s Christmas, right?”
“It’s really pretty,” I said, forcing my eyes to my coffee cup.
“Don’t let her hear you say that, you’ll have one next.”
He stretched, his muscular arms straining the seams of the hand knit sweater, showing off his incredibly broad shoulders. Was he doing that on purpose to torment me? No, because he had no idea it was tormenting me and he wouldn’t if I could just quit staring.