16. Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Sunday, 5 days until the wedding, Stevens Pass: Benjamin
B enjamin sat in the back of Johnny’s Subaru strapping snowshoes to his winter boots. He triple-checked the buckles to ensure a snug fit and prayed they would stay on during this god-forsaken “adventure.”
He peered out through the open hatchback, taking in the trailhead and excited hikers bustling about. The conditions were perfect for the excursion, according to his best friend anyway. Thick cloud cover, paired with the utter lack of wind, kept the temperature at Stevens Pass at a balmy fourteen degrees. The night before, the skies had opened wide and dumped a fresh twelve inches of powder along the Pass—which Johnny assured him would make the late morning trek more fun.
Benjamin had to admit the view was spectacular. Blankets of snow on the surrounding peaks melded with the dense cloud cover, creating the feeling of being under a wintery dome. The sensation should have been suffocating, yet Benjamin found the illusion of confinement rather cozy. The base layer and puffer jacket he’d borrowed from his friend no doubt helped matters since the chill had yet to reach his skin.
Like many western Washingtonians, Benjamin was not a fan of snow. Aside from preferring milder conditions in general, dealing with anxious and unskilled drivers on the notoriously steep Seattle hills raised his blood pressure. The second a couple flakes drifted into view, the commute around the city went to hell. Simple drives could quickly become treacherous.
After a final check that his snowshoes were secure, Benjamin hopped from the back of the SUV. He baby-stepped carefully back and pulled the hatch shut.
“They’re on the wrong feet.”
The smokey voice sent shivers down his toasty spine. The lilting melody of her cursory tease burrowed deep beneath the down and insulation, zapping straight into his veins. Hypnotized, he watched Francesca smirk as she passed without giving him a second look.
The thick, cream-colored waffle knit henley and fitted slate snow bibs failed to camouflage her shapely little body. Twin honeyed braids tailed one on each shoulder, and a soft lavender beanie was pulled snugly over her ears. He caught a glimpse of her glittering amber eyes and cheeks, pink from the cold. Boots securely—and correctly—fastened into her snowshoes, she glided gracefully along, navigating around others in the wedding party like she’d been born wearing the clunky footwear.
Speaking of treacherous.
Benjamin was doing a horrible job of keeping his distance from Francesca. He’d agreed to give her space and, in the very next breath, remained glued to her side, periodically picking on her like a fifth grader at recess. There was something about the way her cheeks flushed with equal parts rage and embarrassment. The combination was better than any opioid.
Riling her up was pleasurable, but Benjamin had to continually remind himself why he was in Leavenworth in the first place.
Johnny and Lucy’s wedding.
His presence was meant to add to the joy, not amp up the drama by harassing the maid of honor. He had to figure out a way to stifle his mutinous inner teenager and act like the mature adult he was.
“Need a hand, my friend?” A solid clap on his back snapped him out of his trance and sent his glasses flying into the packed snow at his feet.
Benjamin removed his glove and scooped up the eyewear. The left lens must have landed just right on a rock beneath the snow. The resulting twin scratches were small but dead center in his line of vision.
Fantastic.
He buffed the specs as best he could and deposited them back on his chilly nose.
“Oh, hey. Zac, right?” he asked through a gritted smile.
“In the flesh.” The other man grinned, clasping Benjamin’s outstretched hand for a quick shake. He gestured down to Benjamin’s feet. “You’ve got your snowshoes switched. First timer?”
“What gave it away?” Benjamin sighed and set to work unbuckling the straps and making the swap.
“Pretty much everything about you,” Zac barked with laughter and slammed another playful slap on the crouched man’s back, nearly toppling him over. Fortunately, his glasses stayed on, barely.
This guy is getting old real quick.
“Want a little advice?”
“One foot in front of the other?” Benjamin drawled, attempting to hide his irritation.
“Nah. About Frankie.”
“Why would I need advice about—”
“Come on, man, we all have eyes.” A broad grin and flash of dimples popping through his russet beard amped up the condescension in his voice. “You were up her ass all night at dinner, and you can’t hide that dopey expression you get on your face when you look at her.”
Dopey?
“Thanks, but I’m good—”
“She’s a wildcat—from what I hear. I don’t know firsthand. Not for lack of trying, though. I’ve been trying to nail her for years.”
Heat strummed in Benjamin’s gut, and his pulse thundered in his ears. The way this guy was talking about Francesca rankled him. He finished securing his snowshoes—fastened on the correct feet this time—and stood, hiding his balled fists in his pockets.
“I’m not trying to start anything with Francesca,” he ground through clenched teeth.
“ Francesca , huh?” Zac’s dense eyebrows danced.
“Yes.” What is this guy’s malfunction?
“If you say so, man.” One more hard hit to Benjamin’s shoulder and Zac made his way to where the group congregated.
He watched the smug little jerk go and counted down from ten to cool his temper. Great. Not only did he have to pretend to believe in the fa?ade of marriage and manage to keep the schoolyard shenanigans with Francesca to a minimum, but there was one more bullet point to add to his to-do list.
More of a to-don’t, really.
Don’t punch Zac.
Thanks to Johnny’s obsession with hyper-preparedness and safety, Benajmin once again found himself failing to keep his distance from a certain Miss Miller. The groom instated the buddy system, but it was the bride who determined each pair.
“Wouldn’t it be great if everyone snowshoed with their aisle buddy?” Lucy beamed gleefully like she’d just decided they should ride unicorns to the top of the mountain.
“What the hell are ‘aisle buddies’?” Scorn and suspicion battled for top spot in Francesca’s tone. She ran her tongue over her teeth and flicked her narrowed eyes to Benjamin. He quirked a brow in return.
“You know,” Lucy drawled, twirling her hand around the group. “The person you’re going to walk down the aisle with during the wedding.”
“Um.” Todd raised his hand and threw a thumb back toward the cars. “I’m the officiant. Don’t have an aisle buddy, so does that mean—”
“Nice try,” Lucy scolded with syrupy sweetness. “You’ll be with Jonathan and me.”
“Touché.” Todd’s shoulders slumped, emphasized by numerous bulky layers.
“Buck up. I’ll get you a Monte Cristo when we’re done,” Jonathan consoled, taking his own scarf off and looping it snuggly over Todd’s other two. “The Rooftop makes a good one.”
“Thanks, Buster.”
“I got you.”
“How set in stone are we with the pairings?” Francesca argued.
“Like dry cement,” Johnny barked. “You’ll survive. We head out in five.”
Benajmin sidled up beside his aisle buddy as everyone paired off.
“You’d better not slow me down,” she grumbled, tugging her gloves in place and looping the trekking pole straps on her wrists.
Benjamin copied her motions, taking particular pleasure in how it raised her hackles. “I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it,” he assured her.
“You’d better. This is the first real physical activity that I’ve been able to do since school started because of someone’s aggressive classroom expectations. If you screw it up, you’ll regret it.”
“I doubt I’ll have any trouble keeping up with you,” he purred, stepping a bit closer. Her scowl deepened.
The group left the trailhead two by two in a neat little line. Francesca lasted all of ninety seconds before she bolted out of that line and blew to the front. Benjamin bumbled his way behind her, trying frantically to get the hang of the cumbersome process.
“Hey, Frankie!” Johnny called, hands cupped around his mouth. “Eyes on your buddy. You know the rules.”
She lifted a hand in the air, thick gloves prominently displaying her middle finger, but slowed her pace ever so slightly.
Most of the group had already managed to find their stride. Todd, in all his fluffy layers, was the only other person struggling as much as Benjamin.
“Fuck. This. Fuck. This. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This,” he chanted, trying to maintain the same pace with the rest of his hiking triad. Benjamin caught his eye and gave Todd an empathetic shrug.
Soon, Benjamin figured out the mechanics and found his rhythm. He closed the gap between him and Francesca without falling. The rest of the group chattered with their partners while he and his surly companion marched onward in silence. The lack of chitchat magnified the crunch of fresh powder underfoot. Sweat collected and dripped down his back, and his lungs burned satisfyingly from the cold. He hadn’t had a chance to run since Thursday morning, and because of the constricting itinerary for the next week, he doubted he’d find the time to get any miles in before returning to Seattle. Running kept his mind clear, and missing out on the daily exercise typically left him feeling antsy, which probably explained why he was finding such joy in harassing his former student.
Benjamin had hoped agreeing to a temporary ceasefire would ease Francesca’s ire toward him. Perhaps they could even be cordial toward one another for Johnny and Lucy’s sake. He glanced at his snowshoe companion—perhaps companion was a little too amicable of a term . . . combatant was more accurate. She pushed on, scanning their surroundings, overtly ignoring Benjamin.
Fine. Two can play that game.
He redirected his focus to the journey. The wintry scene of the snow-covered trail was incredible. Slowly, beams of sunlight peeked through the dense clouds, scattering glitter over the frozen landscape. Tall evergreens stood mightily, flocked in heavy white coats yet too strong to bend under the enormous weight. There was a certain silence that hung densely in the air, shrouding the voices of the rest of the group. The quiet was so big that Benajmin could feel it. It had texture. It had power.
The effect was serene, and he decided he quite liked how the combination of exertion and group seclusion made him feel—excited yet oddly at peace.
Benjamin hazarded another glance over to his partner. Francesca seemed to have genuinely forgotten all about him. Because she surveyed the trail and surrounding scenery with a sort of reverence. A calm smile formed gently on her lips, and joy glimmered in her eyes. She sighed lightly, dissolving the tension she’d been holding in her shoulders since the first day of class. The relaxation that swept over her was so palpable that Benjamin felt like a movie villain for having made the last twelve weeks so unbearable for her.
And yet he hadn’t dimmed her light.
One thing was certain regarding Francesca Miller: She was just as stubborn as he was.