Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology

by Violet Vaughn

Outside, the sun sparkles against the snow. Light and fluffy, one quick swipe of my arm clears it from my car door. I coax the engine to a roar and crank the defrosters on high. I brush dry, light flakes off the car. This sure isn’t Vermont snow.

  The locker room buzzes with voices. Lori’s locker is open, but she isn’t here. I don’t have to guess where she might be. I turn the dial of my lock and listen to the banter around me. Nick and Megan’s voices drift over from the next row as they discuss what to wear.

  I hear Bill say, “Dude.” I glance up and see Jason coming down the aisle as Bill asks, “Fun night, huh?” Jason gives him a fist bump. Bill’s eyes are puffy from a late night, and a quick look at Jason’s face tells me he’s not well rested either. I take the sandwich out of my pocket and walk toward him. He’s facing his locker as my hand slips in to set it on the bottom. I don’t wait for his reaction and keep walking down the aisle to go to the bathroom.

  When I finish up in the ladies room and exit, Nick and Megan are walking by. Megan says, “You’ve got three minutes if you want to ski with us.”

  “I’m on it.” I sprint as best as I can in my ski boots to my locker. Jason is just about ready, and he watches me rush but doesn’t say anything. He follows when I leave. “Ready!” I yell to Nick as Megan appears. I catch up, and we head out the door.

  Nick looks back at Jason. “C’mon, rookie, I’ll show you how it’s done.” Megan gives me a wink. I love these two.

  We manage to get in line just as the chairs start loading. Lori and Kaleb are a few people behind us. I give Lori a wave, and she waves back as I guess Kaleb broke the powder-day rule. She couldn’t be in better hands.

  After we pull the bar down, Nick turns toward us. “Ever ski powder, Jason?”

  “Yeah, last year I was here for a week and got a couple of days in. I kind of suck.”

  I see recognition pass over Nick’s face and wonder if he is thinking about the night with Blaine and Tim after the trailside kissing fiasco. “Not for long. I’m taking you to the best place to go when there’s fresh snow. Like cliffs?”

  “Definitely.” Jason’s face is one big smile.

  Megan bounces a bit in her seat. “Casey, you’re going to love this.” She lets out a little sigh. “This chair is moving way too slowly. I want to ski.”

  I chuckle. “I feel the same way.”

  As we approach the unloading ramp of the chairlift, Nick and Megan adjust the buckles on their boots. Taking their cue, Jason and I do the same. Clearly we’re not wasting time at the top. The moment we push off the chair, we head over to Nick’s trail. Cutting through a few hidden paths, I’m amazed at the snow. It’s so light I’m in up to my waist in places. We end up on a narrow, steep trail. Megan says, “Let’s do it!” And takes off. Nick jumps in right beside her. I go to Megan’s right, and Jason is on mine. Each of us cut new tracks. I focus on moving up and down through the planes of snow. The sensation of pressure is all around my legs, and a mist of snow wets my face. Every muscle is engaged as my body reacts without thought. The feeling is a mix of power and freedom.

  Jason has gotten ahead of me, but Megan is by my side. I see Jason hit something and fly through the air before he falls. His ski sticks up a bit in the snow, and he’s below it. I slow down and retrieve the ski. Climbing to get something in this snow is like digging a hole in dry sand, so I bring it to him as he brushes himself off and cleans out his goggles. He bends over when I reach him. Handing over the ski, I say, “Hey, the ass? It’s looking good.” I chuckle and hear him do the same as I take off again.

  After three runs, it’s time for lineup. Both Jason and I get pulled to teach, and our powder day is over, but it doesn’t matter. I have a glow that can’t be contained as I share the passion with beginners.

  I had hoped to ski lunch, maybe with Jason, but I get a private instead. A timid woman afraid of skiing, it’s an exercise in patience. Yet I don’t mind. I teach her ways to get down trail sections she’s afraid of, and we both feel accomplished when we’re done. I don’t see Jason again until the end of the day.

  My feet ache, and I can’t wait to get my boots off. I clomp down to my locker and find Jason is already at his and in just his long underwear. Damn, he looks hot. His musky scent makes my insides twinge. I strip off my outerwear and am down to a tight turtleneck and exercise leggings when I get an idea.

  Knowing my stomach will show if I reach my hands up, I look over at Jason and raise my arms up in a stretch. He watches. I close my eyes and tilt my head back a bit. I part my lips and scrape my teeth over the bottom one. When I open my eyes, I see that look. His desire sends shivers down my spine as I stand and turn to my locker. Arching my back, I place one hand on the bench and bend down, straight-legged, to grab my sweats. I hear an “ahem.” But it’s not from Jason. Crap. I snap back up and see Bill is watching me too. I close my eyes as my cheeks heat up, and I hear Jason snort. He is so laughing at me, and I deserve it. I grab my fleece and retreat to the bathroom.

  Still mortified, I return to my locker and avoid eye contact with Jason and Bill. I rush to get out the door even though I had wanted to wait for Lori to see how her day was, but that’s not happening now. Cold mountain air soothes my burning cheeks, and I relax. I think about my beginners and how excited they were when things began to click. Lost in my thoughts, I jump a little when Jason breathes in my ear, “Nice show. Bill appreciated it.”

  I hit his arm. “Stop. I already want to die. Don’t rub it in.”

  Jason’s smile turns serious. “Hey, about yesterday—”

  I interrupt him before I have to die a little more. “Don’t. I know I’ve been a jerk. It’s okay. You were right.” I walk a little faster. In a small voice, I add, “I don’t deserve you.”

  He takes my arm and stops me. Grabbing my other arm, he looks down at me. “The sandwich was good, thanks.” He pauses for a moment. He looks like he’s deciding if he should say something or not. He shakes his head. “See you tomorrow.”

  Yes, you will. I don’t know what I will do next, but before I’m done, Jason Garrison, you’ll know I’m really in love with you.

  29

  When I was driving to work this morning, it came to me. I’ll ask Jason out on a date. Then I can spend alone time with him.

  I came in early to see if I can catch up with Lori and find out how things with Kaleb are going. When I notice her car in the parking lot, I power walk to the locker room so we can chat. When I open the door, the musky odor warms me. This is the best job I’ve ever had.

  I turn down our aisle, and Lori is by her locker. I say, “Dish! I can’t wait to hear what’s happening with Kaleb.”

  She hunches up her shoulders as a smile creeps onto her face. “He’s so dreamy, the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I keep pinching myself to make sure it’s real.”

  I grab her hands and let loose a little squeal. “I’m so happy for you. So what happened at The Bike Shop the other night?”

  “Oh my gosh. We talked for hours. I stayed until they closed, and he walked me back to my truck. He promised to help me ski powder yesterday, and he did.” She gushes. “I know enough to know that’s a big deal.”

  “It most certainly is. He’s a great guy and hasn’t had a girlfriend for a while. As far as I know, you’ve got no crazy women to get in the way. Heck, even if there were, I don’t think he’d let them.” I pause and smile. “How’s his bruise?”

  Her cheeks turn pink, and I notice Kaleb is headed our way with two coffees. “Here comes Dark and Dreamy now.” I give her a wink and leave for the bathroom to give them privacy.

  On my way back, I see Jason as he saunters down the hall carrying his freshly tuned skis. I walk up and reach out for them. “I’ll go put these in the rack for you.”

  His brow knits as he hands them over and says, “Okay. Thanks.”

  I return to our row and sidle up next to him. “So, I was wondering. Would you like to go out with me sometime? Like on a date?”

  He ponders
the proposal, and my palms begin to sweat. This is scary. Is he going to turn me down? A sly smile creeps onto his face, and he says, “You could cook for me.”

  I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Would you like to come to dinner tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up so you can drink wine, and I’ll drive you home.” Then, making sure I seal the deal, I add, “Steak?”

  “With the mustard sauce I taught you to make?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Yes.”

  I scream on the inside. “I’ll pick you up at six.” A little flustered, I manage to get my combination right on the third try and open my locker. Bill has just arrived, and I’m still horrified thinking about yesterday. His aftershave hits my nose, and I know he’s next to me. Damn.

  He asks, “Hey, so you got a private yesterday, right?”

  “I did. Why?” He’s a little closer than I like, so I step back and face him.

  “Oh, just that it’s cool. You want to work those if you can. I can give you a few tips on how, if you want. What are you doing after work?” Oh, crap, is he asking me out? I glance at Jason for help, but I’m not sure if he’s listening.

  “I’ve got to get some things done today, but thanks for the offer.”

  He nods at me. “Tomorrow?”

  Oh, boy. I speak up a bit so Jason will hear. “I’m sorry. I’m making dinner for Jason tomorrow night.”

  “Oh,” he says. “Okay.”

  Whew. Hopefully he’ll get it, and we can avoid any awkwardness. Well, until I manage to make a fool of myself again. Something tells me I’ll find a way.

  * * *

  I’m mentally thanking Clara right now for having everything I could need. The table I set for dinner with Jason looks wonderful with matching dishes and nice linens. The scent of apple pie fills the house as it sits on the stovetop. Potatoes are in the oven, and broccoli is in a pan for steaming. I sniff the bottle of Zinfandel that I’d popped open to breathe and smell a heady mixture of tannin and berry. Salty truffle cheese is sliced and ready on a plate in the fridge. I think I’m ready.

  I tread soft carpet to the bedroom and take a last-minute look in the full mirror. Deciding what to wear was tough. My first thought was to go all out and wear a tight dress and heels. Then it occurred to me: sex is something we do well. As much as I would like to take Jason to bed tonight, that isn’t what this is about. Jason needs me to show I love him for who he is and not what he does to my body, so I opted for jeans and a scoop-neck tee. I give my hair a bit of fluffing and grab my ballet flats.

  Walking down the hall, I glance at Clara’s framed photographs. Touching one of her and Tim on a hike, I’m struck by the thought of memories. That’s what I want. I want years of history with Jason. At the door, I kick off my flats and slip my feet into functional boots before I wrap up in the warmth of my coat. I’m off to get my date.

  When I arrive at Jason’s, my car door slams behind me, and snow crunches under my feet as I walk toward the house. Flurries float down as the porch light reaches out to the beginning of a promising storm. The door creaks open before I have a chance to do it myself, and Jason says, “You could have stayed in the car. I saw you pull up.”

  “That’s not how a date is supposed to work.” I take his arm and walk him toward the car. “You smell good.” His woodsy scent is fresh, and his hair is still damp. I see a green plaid flannel shirt inside his ski jacket. I recognize it as the one that makes his eyes take on a mossy hue. This is my Jason. My heart does a little flip-flop.

  He leans down and sniffs my hair. “You smell pretty good, too.”

  I open the passenger door and wait for him to get in. “Buckle up.” I close him in safely and go to my side. He fiddles with the heat when I get in the car. I ask, “Isn’t this snow great?”

  “Awesome. Is it true it’ll snow almost every night in January and February?”

  Shifting into first, I speed up. The flakes of snow fly at us like tiny stars. “I think so. I know it snowed almost every night when I first moved here last year. It’s amazing. I’m excited to enjoy all the powder days this season. Think we’ll ever get tired of it?”

  “Us? No way.” He chuckles. I think he’s right.

  It’s just a short drive to my house and we arrive within minutes. The view from the driveway is of the mountains, but you can’t see them tonight.

  “This is a great house,” he says. “Who do you live with?

  “Nobody. This is my friend Clara’s house. We worked together cleaning last winter. Her husband is the one who died in the avalanche. She and her kids are in California now, and I’m paying cheap rent to house-sit.” I get out of the car with the intention of opening his door, but Jason doesn’t wait.

  He glances at the backyard. “Are those the woods that are near the new housing development?” He had to have noticed my driveway too, and I know he thinks it needs to be plowed. I’ve been lazy and just driving over the snow instead of shoveling. That won’t work much longer.

  “They are. The snowshoeing is great. I found a few trails and need to explore a bit more, but I bet you could get all the way to it easily. I’ll take you sometime.” We’ve reached the front door, and I scramble ahead to open it.

  His makes a show of sniffing. “You made me apple pie?” It’s his favorite dessert, and his eyes twinkle.

  “I did.” I slip on my shoes and walk to the dining room. Burgundy liquid gurgles as I pour the Zinfandel. “Hungry?”

  “I am now.” He joins me and takes the glass from my hand. He swirls the wine and sniffs, “Ah, good choice for steak.”

  “Sit. I’ll get you some cheese and crackers to eat while I cook.” The odor of sulfur stings my nose when I light the candles, and I go retrieve the cheese plate from the fridge. Adding crackers, I call out from the kitchen, “Have you ever had truffle cheese?”

  “Truffle cheese? I don’t think so.”

  I set the appetizer before him and perch myself on a chair. “Try it. My friend Tara works at The Wine and Cheese Shop. She said they just got this in.” I watch as he takes a bite. His eyes get bigger.

  “Oh, yeah. I like it.” He puts more in his mouth and lets out a little moan. I’m tempted to kiss him, knowing I would taste the salt and wine on his lips. My stomach flutters a bit as I get up to turn on the grill.

  Jason follows and stops at the doorway to the back deck. The whoosh of propane sounds as he says, “I can grill the steaks if you want.”

  “No, that wouldn’t be me making dinner, now would it?” I drag my hand across his stomach as I walk in toward the kitchen, and he flexes it as I do. I envision what that looks like as I say, “Just relax and enjoy this.”

  Metal clangs as I pull out the sauté pan. Onions and garlic sizzle in the olive oil before I add cream and spicy mustard. Once the sauce simmers, I sear the steaks on the grill while Jason finishes off his cheese. He leans against the fridge in the kitchen with his glass of wine as I stir the sauce. It’s a switch for us, because cooking is what he always did for me. In Vermont, he worked as a sous chef while I waitressed, and when he would prepare meals for me, he often explained what he was doing.

  “I like watching you cook, Casey. You’re graceful and make it look easy.”

  I glance over at him. “I enjoy it. Especially doing it for you.” It’s such a simple thing, but it makes me happy to know I’m cooking him something he’ll find delicious. “Now go pour yourself more wine. I’ll get the steaks and serve you dinner in a minute.”

  I take care to make the presentation look restaurant quality. Placing it in front of him, I see he’s impressed. When the first bite hits his mouth, he moans in appreciation.

  He savors the steak before he swallows. “You nailed that sauce. Wow. I haven’t eaten something this good in a while.”

  “Don’t you cook for yourself? You guys have a huge kitchen.” I take a sip of my wine and let it linger in my mouth.

  “No. I should, but I don’t. It feels like work to cook for just me.”
He stabs a piece of broccoli.

  “I know what you mean. I don’t get fancy for only me, either. I miss the meals you used to make. You fed me well.” With my fork, I dip a piece of potato skin in my sauce.

  He puts his fork down. Leaning toward me, he says, “I liked taking care of you. I miss it.”

  Warmth spreads through my heart. I reach my hand out and put it on his. “I like doing things for you.”

  He slides forward on his chair so he can take my face in his hands. When he kisses me, I taste the spice of mustard and the deep flavor of Zinfandel. It’s a gentle kiss, but I melt.

  Breaking away, he sits back with his glass of wine. I get up and clear the table. Setting the dishes in the sink, I call out to him, “Want the nickel tour?”

  “Sure.” He comes into the kitchen, and I point out the window. “When it’s daylight and not snowing, you can see the Continental Divide. It’s gorgeous. There’s a little yard with a swing set and sandbox. Clara’s kids, Benjamin and Jenny, are six and eight.” Walking down the hall, I point to the first room on the right. “This is Jenny’s room, and the next one is Benjamin’s.” We’re at the end of the hall, and I lead him into the bedroom on the left. “This is where I sleep.” I bring him to a framed picture. “This is Clara and Tim.” It’s a picture of them decked out in Telemark gear. “They used to go winter camping whenever they got the chance. Last spring they were out on Peak 6, and Tim got caught in an avalanche.” Tears hang on the edge of my eyelids.

  “You mean Clara saw him get swept away?” I hear concern in his voice.

  A lump in my throat forces me to nod in reply.

  “I can’t imagine. She must have been so scared.”

  “She knew he died quickly. She told me it sounded like a freight train, and there was no way he could have survived. It’s amazing the avalanche didn’t take her, too. Her kids would have been orphans.” Tears stream down my face. “It took them hours to find his body.” I think of Blaine and that awful day.

  Jason wraps his arms around me. I let him hold me for a moment, and then I pull away to get a tissue. Wiping my eyes, I say, “I’m fine.” I sniff and clear my throat. “I love all these pictures. There are so many great stories on these walls.” I lead him down the hall. “And here we are in the living room. That’s it. It’s a small house, but I like it. It’s just enough, you know?”