Chapter 15 #2
This hadn’t been my first choice of leisure activity, but I was grateful to have gotten out of my comfort zone a little. Less so now, however.
“Awesome,” he laughed, smothering his face in his hands. “I am really batting a thousand here.”
“I have had fun,” I told him, taking his hand. Because I didn’t want him to think the day so far was a total loss. “Now, as far as second date . . .”
“Well, I don’t count making croissants as a date,” he quipped.
“What about being friends?”
“We can do both.” He turned slightly to face me more directly. “I’m great at multitasking.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
But as time ticked by, my humor faltered. And without the trees to shelter us from the wind, the temperature seemed to plummet.
“Here,” Charles said, shrugging out of his jacket. He placed it over my shoulders and zipped me up inside, then pulled me closer into his arms.
“Aren’t you freezing?” I said, starting to shiver as I tried to look anywhere but down.
“I’ve got a lot more mass to keep me warm. You need it.”
Charles rubbed my upper arms to generate some heat as I curled up against his chest. He was surprisingly warm, given the temperature up here must’ve been well below freezing.
“You know what we need?” he said. “S’mores.”
“Afraid I forgot to pack my emergency s’mores kit,” I said, teeth chattering.
“When we get back to the house later, we’ll roast marshmallows by the fire. Have some hot cocoa. Get all bundled up in our sweats and thick wool socks.”
“I’m going to eat every marshmallow in sight, then take the longest, hottest shower of my life,” I answered, tucking myself deeper under his chin.
“I’ll join you,” he laughed.
“Nice try.”
“Tell me,” Charles said, furiously rubbing the outside of my thigh to keep me from losing feeling in my limbs, “what are your plans after the season ends?”
“London. I’ve been accepted to culinary school.”
“Hey, that’s terrific. Ever been?”
“I’ve never even left the country.”
“Maybe I can come visit,” he said. “Show you around a bit.”
“Let me guess, you have a flat.”
He chuckled softly and it warmed my face against his chest. “Let’s just say I have a few favorite neighborhood spots I’d love to show you.”
I knew what he was doing. Like a nurse distracting you with conversation while they jammed the needle in your arm. Keep me talking and my mind off freezing to death while we dangled above the chasm below.
“You don’t have to do that, you know. Make promises. I don’t have any delusions that we’ll still be hanging out after my job with your family is over.”
He stopped rubbing my leg and ducked his head to seek my eyes. “Why would you say that?” he asked, a wounded note in his voice.
“Just being realistic.”
It was nothing personal, but I knew the score here. I was a one-night stand that got stuck here and now we were both making the best of a strange situation. I gave him all the credit in the world for not being a dick about it. Still, I didn’t expect to get a Christmas card next year.
“You know, you should give people a little more credit,” he said flatly. “They might surprise you.”
“What would make you fly halfway around the world to take me to dinner?” I said, teasing.
“Maybe I just like your company.”
The lift gave another metal groan and jerked forward. The chair swung again, testing the strength of my stomach as I once again held on to Charles for dear life. I took several deep breaths, and when I looked up at him, Charles was watching me, his arms still tight around my body.
“We’re moving again,” he said, as the lift creaked and resumed its slow progression upward.
“Just in time. For a second there, you looked like you were going to kiss me.”
“Well, now that you mention it . . .”
He ducked his chin and I closed my eyes.
Our lips met. Soft, gentle. Though there was nothing subtle about the thrill of excitement that fluttered through my belly at the familiar sensation.
Whistles erupted from the chair behind ours and I pulled away, smothering a laugh and sinking down slightly in the chair.
“See,” he said, that easy smile once more in place. “You survived. Nothing to it.”
“The kiss or the ride?”
His only answer was a self-satisfied smirk.
Unfortunately, my euphoria was dashed the second we arrived at the slope.
I didn’t have time to fret about distractions, or how that kiss would complicate our delicate professional relationship.
I glanced down the seemingly infinite runway of snow and the experienced skiers shredding powder at breakneck speeds, and swallowed past the lump in my throat.
“You know what?” I said, lifting the goggles off my face. “I think I’d rather take my chances with the ski lift again.”
“No can do,” he said beside me. “The only way down is right there.”
“Uh-uh.”
“Uh-uh?”
“Yeah. Uh-uh. Carry me. I’ll hop on your back.”
Charles smothered a laugh. “You conquered your ski bully, remember? You can do anything. This isn’t much harder than what you’ve already done. Just a little longer of a trip down.”
But my knees began to shudder and my breath became a little ragged. As Charles appraised me, his expression sobered and he lifted the goggles off his face to meet my eyes.
“Hey, hey. You’ve got this, okay? Think of it like cooking.”
“This is nothing like cooking,” I shot back.
“Sure it is. When you’re in the kitchen, you’re not panicking, right?”
“Only when I’m cooking for your mom.”
Charles coughed out a laugh. “Fair. But otherwise, you’re in your element, right? You’ve got control. What does it feel like?”
“I don’t know.” I’d never really asked myself the question in those words. “I suppose I just sort of get into a rhythm, you know? A flow. Sort of space out and just let the muscle memory take over.”
“There,” he said. “Exactly. Skiing is the same way. Don’t overthink it. Just trust your body and let go. Relax into it. Tensing up is the worst thing you can do.”
I took a deep breath, steadying myself.
“Good?” he said. “Ready to give it a try? I’ll be right here beside you the whole way. I promise.”
“Don’t let me face-plant.”
Charles kissed my forehead, smirking against my skin. “I won’t let you face-plant.”
So, I put on a brave face and crept up to the precipice, saying a silent prayer to the ski gods not to let me slam into a tree or go tumbling off a cliff. Then I mustered up all my nerve, leaned forward, and pushed off.
I started slow. Ignored the other skiers breezing past me and concentrated only on myself and the snow ahead.
And I kept telling myself to relax. Don’t think.
Go with the flow. Then, somewhere along the way, I became aware of the sweet, woodsy scent of fresh pine.
The elegant way the tree limbs bowed under the weight of snow piled on their branches.
That lovely sound of skis slicing through the powder.
The luxurious warmth of the sun on my face and the wind in my hair.
Until suddenly, it was over. I was at the bottom and I’d stopped all on my own, without crashing or falling over or causing a ten-person pile-up.
“Hey, look at you!” Charles exclaimed, almost slamming into me to give me a huge hug. “That was terrific. Didn’t it feel great!”
It was exhilarating. And calming. Sort of like a trance.
“I can’t wait to do that again!”