Simply Irresistible (Crescent Cove Book 2)

by Marlie May

  “Roan.” Cara turned to me. “You know I’m going to find out any minute. Tell me now, please?”

  “No way. In fact, let’s keep this going for as long as possible.” Removing my scarf from around my neck, I advanced on her, my arms outstretched. “Can I blindfold you, my pretty?”

  “Ha, ha, sure.” She snickered and then slapped her hand over her mouth. “Wow. I don’t sound any older than Arie.”

  “Nothing wrong with being a kid every now and then.” My hands landed on her shoulders, and I rotated her around. Unable to resist her sweet backside, I moved in close and laid my scarf over her eyes.

  “Not too tight, is it?” I whispered by her ear. She smelled better than heaven. My body twitched, sensing her nearness. “This okay?”

  “Umm, no. I mean…It’s not too tight.”

  The strain in her voice made me wonder if I was taking this too far. There was something beyond erotic about blindfolding Cara, but I wouldn’t do it if it frightened her.

  I pivoted her to face me and slid my hands down her arms to link my fingers through hers. “You really okay? Tell me if this makes you uncomfortable.” My voice came out gruff, but I didn’t care. This evening was supposed to be fun for her, not scary.

  “It’s fine.” She swallowed. “Better than fine.” The last came out soft enough, I almost missed it. What did she mean by ‘better than fine’? Was it possible she found the situation as stimulating as I did?

  Now, there was a wave to grab ahold of and ride.

  “Come on.” Sliding my arm around the back of her waist, I led her down the hallway and popped the door open at the end. A gush of icy air swirled around us.

  “Wait a sec,” I said once we were outside. Bending down on one knee, I slid her mittens back on, tucking the cuffs underneath her coat sleeves. I stood and whistled through my teeth while tying her hat under her chin in a big bow. She looked gorgeous. Beyond sexy.

  Was I insane to think I could keep my feelings platonic?

  Maybe the anticipation I sensed in her was solely in my mind. I could be misreading her body language, her tone. Everything about this situation.

  Attempting to ramp my mood back to friendship, I tapped her nose. “There you go.”

  Leaning forward, I aimed to kiss her cheek, but she turned her head at the last moment. My lips met hers, and heat seared through me, bringing my heart to a shuddering halt. I pulled back immediately, even though I would’ve given my right arm to spend the rest of the night tasting her lips.

  Cara sputtered. Her mitten-clad hands flew up to latch onto my coat, preventing my escape. “What—”

  “I’m sorry. That was a big mistake.”

  “Oh.” Her tone came across disappointed, but I had to be misreading her.

  My face blazed, and I worried she’d say this evening was through, that it was time to go home. It would kill me to let tonight end on a sour note. “I meant to kiss your cheek,” I said fast. “That was all.”

  “Of course, you did.”

  I could only read neutral in her posture, let alone her tone. At least I hadn’t offended her. Maybe.

  Squeezing her hand, I struggled to keep the unsteadiness out of my voice. “You ready for my surprise?”

  “Tell me, now.” She sounded petulant, like a little kid.

  “I’m not letting you in on it yet,” I said. Her mitten-covered hand in mine, I pulled her over to the back wall.

  “Roan, wait.” She dug her heels into the snow. “We need to talk about that—”

  “Later? It’s time for my big reveal.”

  “Okay.” She groaned. “Can I take off the scarf, then?”

  “And…Yes.”

  She tugged the soft cotton up and opened her eyes.

  Grinning, I posed in front of her with a big orange sled leaning against my side.

  “We’re using that?” She glanced around. “Please tell me we’ll ride it on a little hill, okay? Because I’m not up for plummeting over cliffs on a hard piece of plastic.”

  “Nah. Nothing like that.” I tucked her arm through mine and led her toward the hillside. “First thing, chair lift.”

  “I can barely stand on a four-foot ladder without getting vertigo.” The darkness in her eyes suggested she was holding back a screech.

  “You’re not afraid of a little drop-off, are you?”

  “Absolutely not. The last thing I’ll ever do is admit I’m scared standing on a chair to change a light bulb.”

  She had to be teasing me. “You’re going to love it. Trust me, our feet are planted on the ground all the time.”

  Her face screwed up in a knot, she walked slowly beside me on the south trail path.

  “How come I don’t have my own sled?” Cara waved at a teenager passing us with a blue one hanging on her back. “If I ride by myself, I can drag my heels to keep my speed at a sane clip. Or at a crawl, in my case.”

  “Come on. It’ll be fun doing it together.”

  “Sure, it will.”

  Stopping, I faced her. “If you don’t want to do this, just say so and we’ll do something else.”

  Her chest lifted and fell. “It’s okay. Like you said, it’ll be fun.”

  So, her smile had started out weak, but I knew it would see full force before the night was through. How could anyone not enjoy nighttime sledding?

  We got into line. When we were up, a guy wearing a yellow coat with Perley Peak on his right chest nodded our way. Behind him, a metal-framed chair looped around a red building and approached with a creaky sway. As it drew near, the guy hit a switch on the wall, and the device came to a stop. He took our sled and loaded it into a wire basket mounted on the back of the double lift.

  “All set.” He gestured for us to get on.

  “Let’s do it.” I pulled Cara forward and helped her sit on the wooden slats before settling down beside her, lifting my boots up onto the metal bar frame.

  Cara clutched the pipe supporting the corner. “Will we go high in the air?”

  “Twenty, maybe thirty feet.” I leaned forward to check out her face. Pink, but it was cold out. Eyes wide, but I could read that as anticipation. Lips compressed in a tight line. Maybe not anticipation, after all. My scarf drooped around her neck. Unlooping it, I retied it. It looked great on her; no reason she shouldn’t wear it.

  “It’ll be cool,” I said.

  “Cool.” The laugh she dug up came out shaky. “Can’t wait.”

  I leaned back and slid my arm along the back of the chair, behind her shoulders. “That’s the spirit.”

  The chair lurched forward, and we swept out from underneath the wooden building. The machinery hummed, and white ground dropped beneath us as the pulley system rolled us up to the first pole. We bumped over the top and swayed along the thick cable toward the next pole forty feet away, climbing the mountain.

  “Freakin’ awesome.” I leaned over the side, making the chair lurch, watching as a snowboarder crested a jump. He slapped back onto the ground and continued down the slope. I’d snowboarded a few times, but never tried anything like that.

  “Yeah.” Cara winced and stared straight ahead.

  The vehicle buzzed along, the only other sound creaking trees and wind buffeting my ears. And Cara’s soft breath as she leaned into me. Her chest rose and fell, pressing her body into my side. Nothing was better than this.

  We entered a clump of spruce trees, the branches so close, she reached out to brush them.

  The ground dropped away further.

  “Ugh.” Cara closed her eyes and tucked her arms against her belly. A gust of wind jolted our vehicle, and she gasped as we swayed.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered by her ear, and she quivered. “It’s almost over.” I hated that she felt scared. This probably wasn’t a good idea after all.

  She snuggled closer, her breath hot on my neck, and I shifted my jeans to get more comfortable. As if that was possible while I almost held Cara.

  Another red building approached in the dark,
lights beaming in broad circles around it.

  “You can open your eyes now. We’re almost there.”

  She gulped, pulling away from me, focusing forward. “I’m sorry I was clingy.”

  “I don’t mind.” If only…

  Yeah, that was the wrong thought.

  “Of course, you don’t mind,” she said softly. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

  Friends. My gut dropped back into the center of the Earth, where it needed to remain. “Yeah, friends.”

  Our chair stopped beside the building, and a woman in Perley Peak gear lifted the bar. “Out you go, guys.”

  Cara jumped off with her hand snug in mine. I took our sled, and we walked away from the building, where darkness stole the light. The crisp air immersed us, and I breathed in the tang of pine needles. Snow fell through the air, collecting on the evergreens, the path, and our shoulders. Our boots crunched as we crossed the peak, where the path dumped us out at the top of a wide, sloping ski trail.

  “You’re going to love this.” My excitement made me come across like a child, but hell if I cared. Cara was doing something with me. And she was smiling. I dropped the sled and settled my ass in the back. Grinning, I patted the plastic in front of me, between my knees. “Hop in.”

  “Oh.” Her word came out tight, rivaled only by the pinched look on her face.

  Now that I thought about this, I could see a tiny problem. One sled meant she’d sit between my thighs. We’d been close on the chairlift, but not like this. Back at the lodge, when I asked for one sled, I hadn’t seen it any different than when we’d shared a tent as kids. Sleeping close in our separate bags, acting like siblings.

  But this was different. How was I going to stop responding to her sitting in front of me?

  “Roan?” Cara stood over me, her narrowed eyes studying my face. Seeing…whatever I let her see. Which was nothing. I wasn’t fifteen. A twenty-eight-year-old guy could maintain control.

  My body suggested otherwise.

  If I focused on the thrill of the ride, this would be a snap.

  Cara took a deep breath and climbed in between my legs, settling her round ass on the hard plastic. Like I’d feared, she slid back until we connected. Then nestled even closer. Shit. Only a few scraps of material separated us. My cock twitched.

  Sweet holy Jesus.

  “We going sledding?” Partly turning, she smiled. Snowflakes had collected on her lashes, and she brushed them away.

  I wrapped my arms around her waist. Damn, she smelled better than good. If I wasn’t careful, this situation was going to prove embarrassing.

  Cara giggled. “Oh, wow. I don’t know if I can do this.” She pointed toward the drop-off. “It’s like a rollercoaster from hell. No, the back slope of Mt. Everest. Not that I’ve been there, but I’ve seen pictures.”

  I scooted the sled forward, digging my heels into the snow to bring us closer to the top. The front eased over the edge and hauled us down along with it. I lifted my boots onto the steering bar, while the plastic smacked against the crusty snow, scraping and swooshing. We crept forward, gaining momentum.

  All right. This was freakin’ cool.

  Don’t think about anything but the ride.

  “Yeah,” I yelled, throwing my arms into the air. “You’re going to love this, Cara.” I wrapped her up again, holding tight so the bumps wouldn’t jar her off the sled.

  We coasted over a mound and plunged down the other side, picking up speed. Faster, faster. Flying, the trees around us blurring dark green.

  “Yeah,” I yelled again. I tipped my head back and laughed.

  The wind whipped Cara’s hair, making strands of dark brown ribbon stream around me. My eyes teared from the cold. The wind bit my cheeks. The sled leveled, and we slowed before we rushed down another steep incline.

  “Woo,” Cara shouted, lifting her arms into the air.

  We reached the bottom and slowed to a stop much too soon for my taste. I climbed off the sled and extended my hand to help her stand. “Again?”

  “Hell, yeah,” she said.

  We grabbed for the sled’s rope at the same time, then laughed and tugged it together, heading toward the lift.

  “What were you saying about heights?” I asked.

  She shook her finger at me and laughed. “That I like them, of course.”

  “There’s my girl.” My steps slowed.

  I needed to remember she wasn’t my girl. She’d never be my girl. And that thought sucked the wind from my lungs.

  Cara turned, still chuckling. “You comin’?”

  “Sure.” I lifted a smile to match hers, but inside me, something twisted. Could I really be with her without losing my soul?

  Back in the chair, we rode to the top of the hill, then coasted down the hillside. By the third run, Cara whooped along with me. She’d been swallowed by the thrill of the ride.

  I couldn’t ignore how awesome it felt to be with her. Her legs pressed snugly against mine. Her hands braced on my thighs. Her body leaned back, fusing us into one person.

  We took the chair to the top and started down the slope again.

  Cara leaned back in my arms and sighed.

  My body read the hum in her chest as if she’d moaned out my name.

  I couldn’t rein in my response.

  Cara

  He couldn’t have a hard-on, could he?

  Because if he did, that would mean he was feeling frisky, rather than friendly.

  The idea had merit.

  Must not go there.

  As the sled leveled out, sliding along a flat area, I scooted my bottom back further. Solely to assess the situation, of course. Yes. I definitely felt something extra solid against my butt.

  I didn’t know if I should pretend it didn’t exist, sparing him his dignity, or laugh it off as an uncontrollable—and likely unwanted—reaction on his part.

  Our sled coasted to the bottom of the hill and crunched to a stop.

  Roan jumped up. He slapped his gloves on his thighs and brushed off the snow. “Well, that was fun. How about we get something to eat now?”

  I blinked at him, missing his warmth. Well, if I was completely honest with myself, I was missing other things, too. I took in his broad shoulders, his narrow waist, and slid my eyes to his snug jeans.

  Yes, definitely an erection.

  Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. I wasn’t sure what to make of this development.

  Nothing, actually. I needed to remember my vow to Jason.

  A sour taste filled my mouth, but I pushed aside any hint of regret. I’d given my promise, and I’d stick to it.

  After I climbed off the sled, Roan pivoted. “Be right back.” He strode over to stand in front of a bank of trees and stared at the woods.

  Grabbing the rope, I tugged the sled behind me, joining him on the edge of the trail, where I squinted into the dark. Nothing but a snow-covered landscape, with more snow falling all the time. Little creatures might be scurrying around, but the woods bordered a ski slope hosting people on sleds. Not the best place for bunnies or deer to hang out. “See anything exciting out there?”

  “Nope.” Roan turned to face me.

  A quick glance down told me he was in control of things again. A good reminder of how this situation needed to be between us.

  “Hungry?” he asked. “There’s a decent restaurant at the top of the Peak.”

  “Sound perfect.”

  We returned the sled to the base lodge then boarded the north chairlift, brushing snow off the bench before sitting. By this time, I was a pro at mounting and dismounting the lift. I didn’t even notice the height. The vehicle glided along the cable, taking us higher and higher. Overhead, thick clouds hovered in the air like a wool blanket.

  I tipped my head back, closed my eyes, and caught a snowflake on my tongue.

  “Cute,” he said.

  I fed him my best scowl. “You know you want to do it too, but you’re just pretending you’re too sophisticated to enjoy something sim
ple like snowflakes.” Arie wasn’t the only one who could have fun. Moms needed fun, too. Ignoring Roan’s chuckle, I caught a few more flakes. “Yum.”

  “They taste like nothing.” He smirked. “Like the wind. Or air.”

  “They taste like possibilities.”

  He tilted his head. “Oh really.”

  “I can’t believe you haven’t tasted winter’s tears. They can make your dreams come true.” Not that I really believed snowflakes could bring me more than a lot of back-breaking shoveling. I’d stopped wishing on snowflakes, falling stars, and four-leaf clovers a long time ago. “My dad told me that, if you really believed, snowflakes could deliver.” Sad that I hadn’t thought of this for a long time. When had I lost my belief in magic?

  “Winter’s tears. Dreams coming true.” His words sounded wistful as he studied my face.

  What did Roan dream of? I’d give anything to know.

  He tipped his head back, opened his mouth, and captured a flake.

  Closing my eyes, I did the same, savoring the chill of it melting on my tongue. Right now, the snow tasted like happily-ever-after, joy, and hope.

  Did I dare let simple dreams back into my life?

  The chair glided up to a red building and stopped. We got off and walked along the composite decking to a door with Perley’s Repast stenciled on the glass. Inside, the restaurant featured a winter sports theme with crossed wooden skis and twine-wrapped snowshoes hanging on the walls. Cozy tables dotted the room, and across the front, picture windows looked out at the rolling hillside. Spotlights shot beams into the sky, highlighting the falling snow. How much were we supposed to get, anyway? Earlier, they’d predicted a light dusting. But then, only a true Mainer would consider three inches of heavy wet stuff a dusting.

  “Two for dinner?” A woman approached us, holding menus. “Follow me, please.” She seated us by the window at a table with a stubby red candle sitting in the center. She sparked a lighter to the candle and smiled. “Your server will be right with you. Enjoy.”

  Sitting, I stared outside. The lodge nestled in the valley below us, and lights winked through the falling snow. On all sides, tall peaks rose to the sky, a blur of brilliant white with splashes of evergreen forests. While I could only make out a dull glow, the hazy brightness beyond the lodge must come from the downtown area we’d passed through on our way here. “Gorgeous. The view reminds me of that time we hiked in Acadia and got lost on the way back.”