Chapter 7 Presley #2
I offered to clear the table while Ford went to get ready for his day.
After taking her outside one more time, Priscilla found her favorite spot on the couch: in the blanket that Ford used for sleeping last night.
It appeared I was not the only one with a huge crush on this man.
As we both readied for skiing, he turned to look at me.
“Would you like to go skiing. . . with me?” My heart bounced at his words. I wanted to shout from the rooftops, proclaiming my answer. I felt like one of those old-timey showgirls who would do those synchronized kicks to the music. I felt like I could fly.
“Yes, I would!” my answer was a little too eager, with both tone and volume. He looked at me like I about blew his hair back when I responded, but after a moment, he smiled and nodded. Whew.
We left the chalet and headed for the gondola. I had my skis over my shoulder on one arm and was carrying my ski poles in the other, but after I got to the sidewalk off his driveway, he stopped me.
“Here, give me the skis. You can carry the poles.” His chivalry was refreshing. I obliged, watching him throw a set of skis over each shoulder and carry them effortlessly. As we got closer to the gondola line, skiers were being turned away.
“What’s going on?” I asked a skier who was walking the opposite direction of the gondola.
“The power is still out at the resort, too. The transformer blew, so now they are limiting the number of skiers because they can only run so many lifts.” A look of concern came over my face, as I hoped we would be let in. Clearly, this person wasn’t, so I didn’t get my hopes up.
“Thank you for the information,” I said to the woman as we went our separate ways. “What do you think we should do?” I asked Ford, who was wearing his tiger mask again.
“Let’s still give it a try. Look at all of these people turning away, assuming they won’t get in.
By the time we make it through the line, we just might.
” And that’s exactly what happened. The line moved quickly, because people were giving up waiting for another gondola to move.
The resort was limiting skiers based on the type of lift ticket you had—Ford and I both had season passes, which according to today’s rules, weren’t being able to ski.
But, with a quick flash of Ford’s face to the man running the lift, he let us in the gondola.
Not only that, but we were riding it alone.
“Gee,” I said, the moment we were up in the air. “It’s so fun skiing with someone famous,” I razzed him, and he shrugged, taking his mask down for the time being since we were alone.
“I know that was rather. . . tacky of me. But I really wanted to ski with you today.” His words brought more excitement to my heart than I cared to admit.
“Well, I did too. So, thank you for revealing your identity. You can now go back to being the mysterious tiger man.” I looked out the window, searching the snowy canyons below us for moose.
“Are you comfortable with blues and blacks?” Ford asked, in reference to which ski runs I wanted to take.
“Yeah, pretty much anything that isn’t moguls.
My knees just hate moguls. Oh, and ice. That’s hard to ski on no matter what level of run.
I also don’t like it when it’s super steep the whole way.
A little steep is fine, maybe going into the run, but—” I paused to consider my words to make sure I was describing it correctly.
“So, yes. As long as the conditions are perfect, I am comfortable with intermediate to advanced runs.” I smiled.
I didn’t like that I couldn’t see his face, and he could see mine.
“You know. . . if no one is up here, maybe you don’t need to wear the mask. Just sayin’.”
“I was thinking that same thing,” he said as he pulled it down, revealing his devastatingly handsome jawline. It somehow looked even better while he wore his ski goggles and helmet.
“That’s better. Now, I can see your face.
” And what a face it was. He looked like he was chiseled from stone.
I didn’t mean for the words to sound like they did, but I shrugged it off, remembering I promised the Lord I wouldn’t cower from who I was.
I was silly, goofy and a little awkward sometimes, and that was okay.
All the best people are. He smirked back at me.
As the gondola slowed to let us out at the top, I jumped out but somehow, Ford still beat me to the skis.
He grabbed both pairs and walked over to the starting point, setting mine down for me first. Quite the gentlemen, which was a nice change from the men I’d been around in the last few years.
I was forced to remind myself that Ford was not a man I was dating, but rather one who was probably just trying to keep the peace because we’ were forced to live together until further notice.
“Want to look at the map, or do you know your way around the mountain?” I asked him. His goggles were down, and he expertly clipped into his skis in two seconds flat.
“I’m pretty familiar with things, but if you want to look, go ahead,” he shrugged.
I veered over to the map to the right, not entirely sure what I was looking for.
There were no mountain hosts working today to give me a route, but I could just trust Ford to show me around and not be such a control freak. Was that even possible?
“Okay, I’ll let you be the guide today. Where do you want to ski?” I asked him.
“My favorite run when there is this much fresh powder is Great Big World. You’ll love it—it skis right through a forest of trees and ends at a diner where they make really good hot chocolate.”
“Ahh, my favorite kind of skiing is when there are treats involved.” I gleefully got my ski legs and followed him as we took off.
It was clear from the moment he disembarked that he was the best skier I’d ever seen.
His body was able to lean at a 90-degree angle while he carved through the fresh powder and made turns, without falling over.
If I even attempted that, I’d have ended up in a full body cast. Ford moved so fluidly; it looked like he wasn’t outputting any energy whatsoever.
Watching him inspired my own skiing as I started trying to improve my intermediate skills by following his tracks.
After a few minutes, I was so out of breath I had to stop and rest my legs.
“I’m sorry; this is amazing, but I don’t usually work so hard at my turns,” I said, embarrassingly winded. I sounded like I was fighting for my life as I choked the words out. I felt like it, too.
“Yikes, I didn’t mean to go so fast. I’ll slow down,” he winced, pulling up his goggles as he looked all around us for other people.
“No, don’t slow down. This is really good for me. Skill building. You can never stop improving. Once you do, you're dead—” I was interrupted as Ford ambled towards me, pushing me out of the way and down on the ground, nearly falling on top of me.
“Watch out!” a snowboarder yelled as he slid down the mountain right past us at lightning speed on his rear end.
“Are you okay?” Ford asked, his face mere inches from mine. His lips were so. . . kissable at this moment, I almost forgot I had a face full of snow.
“Yes, I think so. Thank you. Getting hit by a snowboarder was not on my bingo card today.” Ford hesitated, his face still nearly touching mine, and I closed my eyes, my lips instinctively forming into a pout.
Was he going to kiss me or leave me out in the cold?
After a moment where nothing but snow was touching my lips, I opened my eyes again.
Ford looked like he was closing in, ready to kiss me.
Then, at the last second, he sat up, and I was reminded by the Lord that I had just asked Him to protect my heart from getting hurt.
So, why now was I hoping to be kissed by this cowboy?
Using his ski pole to launch himself to his skis, he reached out a hand to help me up.
I took his gloved hand in mine as he easily lifted me to my feet, but my mind forgot I was on two waxed skis, as each leg decided to go in a different direction.
I let out a whimper while my legs tried to do the splits, but the only split I was worried about was in the back of my pants.
“Yikes!” I hollered, grabbing onto Ford's broad shoulders to regain my stance. I put my legs back to where they should have been and let go of him. “I’m sorry, I lost my footing there for a second.” He looked like he wanted to laugh but didn’t.
“You, uh, ready to go?” We’d only been skiing for a few minutes and already, I'd made a scene.
“Giddy up,” I said, to which he stared at me. I couldn’t tell if his eyes were rolling since his goggles were reflecting back at me, but I’d have put money on it that they were. “I mean, let’s go, cowboy.” Ugh. So cringe.
Ford motioned for me to lead the way. “Ladies first.” I appreciated that as it let me set the speed and tone for the day, but I felt like I was holding him up.
So, I started to push my limits and ski faster, which miraculously made my turns a little more effortless.
Before I knew it, I was leaning into the angles like they were nothing, shredding through the snow almost as fast as Ford was earlier.
At the end of the run, I came to a slow as the mountain top cafe was in my sights.
“Top of the World Cafe” was illuminated in large lettering above the floor to ceiling glass windows.
I turned, grinning ear to ear to see if Ford was as excited as I was to get a hot chocolate, but he was nowhere to be found.
“What the heck? Ford? Where did you go?” I called out. A second later, I saw a skier in the distance coming off of a jump made out of snow to the side. As he landed effortlessly in the soft, pillowy snow, he was smiling back at me.