Chapter 3 #2
Her stomach was grumbling. She hadn’t had time to eat this morning, as she’d slept in; she’d barely been able to fit in a run on the treadmill in the lodge’s gym and a quick shower before she hurried to her lesson.
She hadn’t even been hungry then, too excited about learning a new skill, or more likely hopeful to see the very man who’d volunteered to be her instructor.
She wanted to get to the bottom of his motivation.
She’d only paid for a one-hour lesson, and they had to be passing two hours at this point.
She wasn’t about to complain, but she was tempted to ask him if she could buy him lunch to thank him.
She smiled to herself. Buy him lunch at his own resort?
“I think you’re ready to go up the Little Falls lift.”
“Yes!” She punched a fist in the air. “The lift is the exciting part, right? The view, the wind stinging your cheeks, the thrill of knowing you could fall to your death at any second.”
Gavin grunted out a surprised laugh, and she grinned. She’d gotten him to laugh again.
“Not really,” he said. “The skiing is the exciting part.”
“Oh, of course. I can’t wait for all of it.
” She squeezed his arm with her glove, unfortunately getting none of the zip that she’d felt yesterday.
Darn, too many clothes. She wanted to write all kinds of books about ski resorts, ski resort owners, hockey games, and cute little boys and their incredible father, or brother.
But writing the layers of clothes into the book would put a damper on the physical touch.
That was all right, though: it would simply increase the emotional connection. Perfect.
Gavin held up one of his poles to her. She didn’t have any poles yet—he’d told her they’d get some later—but he’d used his poles for her to hold on to for stability or to direct her one way or another.
She grabbed them, and he tugged her forward so they started sliding down the hill toward the smallest lift to the left.
She could count the beginnings of three lifts from here before they disappeared in the trees and the steep mountainside, but he’d told her there were two other lifts that you had to ski to that took you to different, out-of-sight spots on the mountain.
They glided easily down to the lift, and she let go of his pole and shuffled through where a line would usually form. They stopped to wait for the four people in front of them.
“Is it usually busier than this?” she asked.
“Yeah. Holidays and weekends are really busy, but we never get too long of lines on the lifts.”
“Why?”
“There are the five lifts to distribute the crowd, and it’s mostly just the people staying at the lodge and people from town coming up.”
“You don’t get much traffic from Vail or Denver?”
He shook his head. “Too many resorts to compete with.”
“Well, I love this one the very best,” she told him.
He gave her a slow half smile that robbed her of oxygen. What would full strength do to her?
There was no one in front of them, and a couple of chairs went by empty.
“You two going?” a voice asked from behind them.
“Sorry,” Kari said over her shoulder. “We were having a moment.”
The couple behind them laughed.
Gavin didn’t say anything; he just took her elbow and helped her get moving. They waited for a chair to zoom by, then shuffled into position to load up on the next chair.
The lift operator turned to them. “Hey … Mr. Strong?”
“Hey, Charles.” Gavin put his glove out, and the guy fist-bumped him.
The lift swooped around and knocked into the back of her knees. Kari sat hard on the cushioned seat.
“Have a good run,” the guy called to them.
“Thanks.” Gavin waved.
Kari turned to him. “Why did he act so surprised to see you?”
Gavin lifted his broad shoulders. “I don’t usually do this run.”
“But you’re sacrificing for me?” She put her glove to her heart. “That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Gavin turned to look out over the valley. “You’re missing the view,” he said.
“Oh my goodness, I am.” Kari’s eyes trailed over the valley sloping away past the lodge, with a perfect icy gray river cutting through it.
The mountains surrounding them were impressive and beautiful, all covered in green pine trees and white snow.
She loved it here. She couldn’t resist letting her eyes sweep back to the man next to her.
He was a big, obviously strong guy. He was successful and accomplished.
He seemed very dedicated to his family, especially his little brother.
She couldn’t find a single thing wrong with him, but she feared he’d never open up to her.
Who was she to command the attention of a man like Gavin Strong?
“What do you think?” he asked. He was focusing on her and not the view.
Kari probably shouldn’t have done it, but she couldn’t stand it any longer.
She reached over and lifted his goggles onto his helmet.
His deep brown eyes stared back at her, so full of depth and longing and angst. Oh my, he was incredible.
She might have no right to try to bust past his barriers, but until he sent a pit bull after her to keep her away, she was going to keep trying.
“I think your eyes are incredible,” she said bravely.
His eyebrows rose, yet his mouth softened. “I could say the same,” he murmured so softly she could barely hear it.
She did hear it, though, and it made her unreasonably happy. “You can’t even see my eyes,” she said breathlessly.
He pulled in a quick breath and said almost as quietly as before, “They’re imprinted in my memory from the first moment I saw you.”
Kari’s breath was coming hard and fast. Had he just said that?
Had he been as affected by her last night as she had been by him?
She stared at him, feeling her own longings stir deep inside.
She spent her life in other people’s heads, her characters’ heads.
What would it be like to live the romance for real, with someone as amazing as Gavin meeting her gaze with those deep brown eyes?
He opened his mouth, and she waited for more beautiful revelations. “Tips up,” was what he said.
“What?” she asked, confused. Was “tips up” a new term for “I want to kiss you,” or at the very least “I want to take you to lunch”? Her brow wrinkled. She doubted it.
“Lift the front of your skis up so they don’t catch,” Gavin instructed.
“Oh.” Disappointment rushed through her, but just as quickly came a sense of excitement. This was it. The end of the lift.
She lifted her tips as high as she could.
Gavin grasped her elbow, and as their skis hit the slope, she naturally stood and glided down next to him.
He guided her to a stop a fair distance away from the lift, and she stared down, down, down at the slope of the hill.
No, it wasn’t a hill; it was a mountain.
This was the starter slope? No wonder he’d taught her for so long on the magic carpet thingy.
Her breath caught, and her heart thumped faster.
“Ready?” Gavin turned to her.
“No.” Panic was rushing through her. She grabbed on to his coat and said, “This is too steep. I’ll probably end up rolling down this.”
Gavin shook his head. “No, it’s not as steep as it looks, and you were doing good on the magic carpet. Just do wide swipes down, ski all the way to the left, and then turn and ski to the right. Don’t go straight down. Does that make sense?”
“No.” She was panicking hard-core. The bravest thing she ever did was occasionally go on a hike instead of her regular run. She couldn’t just ski down this mountain.
“Do you want to follow me?”
“No! Please don’t leave me.” She gripped his coat tighter.
“I’m not going to leave you,” he reassured her. “I can ski down backwards holding on to the pole, and you can hold the other end.”
“No.” The panic was rising. Her fingers tingled, and she couldn’t catch a full breath. Why had she let herself get on the stupid lift? This might be a gentle slope to some, but to her it looked like a cliff. “Please. Can’t you just … hold me on the way down?”
Gavin’s gaze sharpened on her. His goggles were still on his head, and she got the full range of emotion from his eyes.
He wanted to hold her, but for some reason he was scared.
Of her? She was as nonthreatening as anyone she knew.
The only mean thing she’d ever done to somebody was write them into a book as the villain.
Had she just made an idiotic request, though? How did you hold somebody skiing down a mountainside? He probably thought she was a silly, wimpy girl. She bit at her lip and saw his eyes dart to her mouth, then back up. She wanted to lift her own goggles so they could really connect their gazes.
“There is a way to do that,” he admitted, “if you’re scared.”
“Sorry I’m being such a wimp.”
“No, it’s okay. I just …” He shook his head and then muttered, “I’ve seen Heath do this with Hazel. We can try it.”
“Hottie Hazel?” She tried to joke, but it came out flat. She was really scared of going down that slope by herself, and she really hoped he would hold her.
“That’s the one.” He eased back behind her, put his skis on the outside of hers, and sidled in close. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he leaned around to her ear and said, “We can go down like this, if you like.”
Did she like? This was perfect. Gavin was close by, holding on to her, and even with the snow clothes, her body trembled with the thrill of it all. Her heart raced for reasons far different than the fear of crashing on the snow. His warm breath brushed her cheek as he waited for her answer.
“Yes, please,” she said.