by Leslie North
Tana spun around, knocking into Chase, her hand going to his chest. Hard and muscled. She jerked back, heat rushing to her cheeks. She hadn’t realized he’d stepped closer.
He put out a hand to steady her. “Did you remember an errand you have to get to?” His teasing smile made her want to melt into the floor. “Because your car should be okay, but if you liked mine better—”
“No, no.” She caught her breath, taking a step back. His teasing wasn’t doing anything to ease her nerves or help her focus. “I came to talk to you about your offer to give Lindsey ski lessons. She can’t. Take lessons from you, that is.” Her nerves were messing with her brain and any chance at coherent thought.
Chase pushed a hand through his hair. “Oh, didn’t you know?” A hint of sarcasm laced his voice. “I was a professional skier. I’m probably overqualified to teach her, so you don’t have to worry that I don’t have the skills.”
“I also have the skills. I am an instructor.” It sounded a little defensive, which was not how she’d meant to sound. An old fear beat behind her rib cage, somewhere near her heart. “I could teach her anything she needs to know about skiing, but she won’t be learning. She can’t.”
“She can’t? Why not?” He looked genuinely confused.
“Because she has a neural weakness in her right leg.” Tana felt the same ache in her throat that she had five years before when the issue had first been diagnosed. “Her doctors have never been able to find an explanation for it, but what it means for Lindsey is that her right leg will always be weaker than her left leg. If she pushes herself too far, it’s hard to bear weight on it the next day. Skiing would be too risky.”
Chase blew out a breath. “Well, first off, I didn’t even notice a weakness.” He straightened his back and met her eyes. “I can understand why you’d be nervous. I really do. I just have a different perspective on what it means for Lindsey.”
Tana’s mouth went dry. I know my daughter better than you. She cleared her throat and pressed on, determined to at least hear him out. “I’d love to hear it if you have the time.”
“I’ve got my own injury.” Chase shrugged. “The one thing I hated most after it happened was all the people who wanted to tell me what I can or can’t do. I had more than enough people telling me I’d never win a competition again, and not enough people trying to encourage me to move forward. They acted like winning was all that mattered. It seems to me that all Lindsey hears is what she can’t do.”
Guilty. “How would you know that?”
“Because of how excited she is to take ski lessons and yet, she’s never skied. She’s living at a world-class ski resort, and her mom goes out to hit the slopes every day. And she’s only allowed to watch. Tough thing to accept for a kid without an opportunity to try and see for herself.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. I don’t ski for pleasure—”
“I just feel like she and I have some of the same issues. I think the lessons would be good for her. Let her spread her wings a little bit and at least try to see what she can handle. You can’t keep her in a cocoon all her life, never letting her experience the thrill of victory, no matter how small.”
Chase was right—she’d limited Lindsey’s activities all her life in hopes of keeping her safe. “It’s the agony of defeat I’m worried about. I don’t want anything to happen to her. If she pushes too far, and her leg gives out on the slopes, she could get hurt. I’d never forgive myself.”
“But you want her to be independent, right?” There was no sting behind Chase’s words. “One day, she’ll have to leave home and try new things and fend for herself. The ski lessons might help her with that. In fact, they will help her with that. It’s my personal guarantee.”
She’d come here to say no—to turn down the offer and disconnect from Chase. But now, Tana found herself battling the urge to lean against him, wanting to press her forehead to his chest and breathe.
“—few runs.” She’d been caught up thinking about what she wanted to do with Chase, that she’d missed what he said.
“What?”
“What about a trial run?” The corner of Chase’s mouth turned up in a smile. “You let her take a few lessons with me, and if it doesn’t work out, we can stop. I’ll keep a close eye on her and watch for any issues, I promise. But if it does work out, then she’s learning from the very best. Aside from you, obviously. You’re great.”
“Nice try. I must say, you’re very convincing,” Tana said, as she mulled over his words. She was seriously considering taking him up on the offer.
“Hey, I meant what I said. But I do think it’s easier for someone to take lessons from a person they don’t know. That’s just my experience.” Chase looked down at his watch, then back up at Tana. “How about this—tomorrow’s Sunday and we can meet up then, or whatever your next day off is. You can stick around and watch to make sure Lindsey’s doing okay. Deal?” Chase stuck out his hand.
To her utter astonishment, she took his hand and shook it. “Deal.” Her own reservations clamored for attention, but for once, she wanted to give Lindsey a chance to do something she’d always wanted to do. Ski. “Thank you.” Tana squared her shoulders and brushed past Chase, heading for the door. “I’ve got to get back to my next lesson. But I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Let me get the door for you.” Chase reached around her for the handle, bringing their bodies close together. “And I want you to know that I meant what I said. If you come to the conclusion that it’s too dangerous for Lindsey, or she starts having problems, you can stop the lessons any time.”
Chase was so close that Tana couldn’t help but tip her face up toward him. God, he smelled good. Like cedar and expensive cologne. She could see every bit of razor stubble and appreciate the green of his eyes streaked with silver. Eyes that were currently fastened on her lips. A shiver of pleasure moved through her.
His gaze drifted back to hers. Tana forgot how to breathe, the hunger in his eyes the only thing that existed at that moment. She took a tiny step forward, and all the sound reasoning not to do what she was thinking, disappeared.
Chase leaned in, closing the distance between them. “I want to kiss you. Do you trust me?”
She was so close, but at the last moment, she panicked. “I don’t know,” she whispered and took a big step back. “I’d need to think about that, too.” Tana whirled away and fled, leaving him standing there. She didn’t dare turn around, or her resolve to leave might vanish.
6
The lost and found at the Elk Lodge was a fantastic place for Tana to score the much-needed ski jacket for Lindsey on such short notice. Company policy allowed employees to sort through the after-sixty-day box before the items were donated to a local charity, and she intended to take advantage of the rule.
The actual container was a massive chest carved from birch trees. Tana liked to run her fingers over the decorations on the front of it, something she’d discovered during her first week working for the Elkin family. Lots of well-to-do families vacationed at Elk Lodge, and inevitably they left some of their clothes behind.
Linda, the secretary, poked her head in the room. “Hey, Tana. Hope you find something good because that box is overrun with stuff. I’ve got to run upstairs. Just don’t grab anything with the name Emily on it. She loses things so often that we try to set them aside for the next visit, and her mother hasn’t been in to check yet.”
“I’ll make sure. Talk to you later.” Tana started to dig through the chest, piece by piece, searching for the perfect coat.
Bingo. She pulled out a purple jacket that looked brand new and would fit Lindsey.
“Did one of your students lose something?” Chase’s voice sent a shockwave of embarrassment through her.
Tana’s cheeks blazed, and she yanked the jacket guiltily to her chest. She’d walked away from him when their lips were inches apart, as if she didn’t really want to kiss Chase. And she didn’t. Except part of her did
. Part of her wanted desperately to know how it felt to have his lips brush against hers and for his tongue to—
Oh, stop. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Tana lifted her chin and turned to face him, who stood in the doorway watching her. “No, they didn’t. I was looking through the lost and found for a ski jacket for Lindsey. I don’t have the time or the money to make a shopping trip before her lesson with you.”
“Well, if you find one, make sure it doesn’t have the name Emily on it.” He grinned.
Tana’s mouth twitched as she fought back a laugh. “Oh, so you heard?” In the past two days alone, Emily had reported to her she’d lost a set of ski gloves, a pair of snow pants—how? —and a change purse. Tana hadn’t known girls still carried change purses—they seemed like an artifact from her own childhood.
“I heard.” Chase smiled, too, and suddenly it felt illicit to be having a conversation with him about a guest at the resort.
She shouldn’t be gossiping about guests with Chase—a bad idea on so many levels. Especially when she was picking through the lost and found. Tana took another look at the jacket, arranging her face into what she hoped was a serious expression.
Chase’s eyes followed hers, then strayed to the chest behind her. “Let me buy her a new one in the ski shop.”
Tana tensed. “No, you don’t need to do that.”
“Why not? I get a good employee discount. And if there’s nothing here, I could run into town and find her something.”
Tana clutched at the jacket. “Seriously, this is fine.” The fancy ski shops would cost a fortune, not that it would make any difference to Chase. This was precisely why she couldn’t get involved with him. They were from two different worlds. “We’ll make do with what we have.”
Chase pressed his lips together, and an awkwardness crept in around the beat of silence. “Are you...satisfied with your pay rate working here? Because if it’s not good enough, I’ll speak with the family about upping salaries across the board. It wouldn’t be out of line. We want to make sure we’re the best.” He caught Tana’s eyes again, and she had to catch her breath. “That includes taking care of everyone who works at the resort.”
She made herself meet Chase’s eyes. “The income and benefits you offer here are fantastic. I just learned the hard way that if you can scrimp and save for a rainy day, you should do it.” Tana sighed. “You know, I’d really rather be hitting the slopes and refreshing my skills. I haven’t done any work on the moguls or hills in quite a while, and I’m getting rusty. Not the best look for a ski instructor.”
“I could help you out with that. Want a free lesson?”
Chase’s words cut into Tana’s skin, followed by a burst of irritation. There Chase was, a hot former ski champion wearing shoes that cost more than her whole outfit, and what was he doing? Helping her dig for a used ski jacket and offering her free skiing lessons. Tana hadn’t asked for any help—not from Chase, and not from anybody here. She was fine on her own.
“I didn’t ask for a lesson, but if I wanted one, I’d pay for it,” she said, her voice verging on a snap. She couldn’t help but be defensive. “Just like I could afford new clothes if I wanted them. I’m just saving every penny I can for Lindsey. Emergencies happen all the time, and if we make it through okay, that money will go toward her college.” Tana’s face heated. This shouldn’t be such a big deal. It was only that depending on someone else never worked out.
Chase straightened, tipping a handful of clothes back into the chest. “You know,” he said gently, “I wasn’t offering you lessons as charity. My work for the afternoon can wait a while, that’s all I meant. Besides, it’s not like I can ski with you—just dole out advice.”
Tana swallowed a tight lump in her throat. She’d been fighting for a long time to make a good life for herself and for Lindsey. It hadn’t always been easy. What was it about Chase that made her feel so defensive about not having a lot of money? She worked with rich people every day. She didn’t have time to figure it out now, especially not with him looking so attractive as he stared intently at her waiting for an answer.
Something unlocked in her chest, way down deep. One run down the hills while Lindsey was in school. What was the harm? And if it helped Chase reconnect with the sport he loved so much, all the better. Just because he didn’t ski, didn’t mean he couldn’t help others. “Okay.” She nodded, pleased to see Chase’s eyes light up. “Let’s go.”
Forty-five minutes later, Tana came to a stop at the bottom of the Elk Lodge’s most challenging run, where Chase waited for her in a sturdy pair of snow boots. He might have an injured leg, but he still looked incredible in his snow gear, like a model who had stepped off the pages of Ski Magazine. That made sense—Chase had been a model in Ski Magazine. A face like his made every woman in the world want to buy magazines with him on the cover.
“You’re cutting it a little too close on the moguls, but your balance is killer.” Chase ran through a couple of other pointers—real pointers—and Tana lifted her goggles away from her eyes to look at him. It felt so sexy, having him assess her like this. Tana couldn’t quite catch her breath, and it wasn’t from the trip down the mountain. “Keep an eye on the straightaways, and you could be a champion.”
“I’m not going to be a champion, but thanks for the kind words,” she said, and she meant it. Disappointment needled at her. She hadn’t wanted a free “lesson” in the first place, and now she didn’t want it to end. “Thank you, we should do this again sometime,” she said, stepping closer to give him a kiss on the cheek by way of thanks.
Chase turned his head, and her lips landed on his mouth instead. “I agree, but I also think we should do something else now.” He grinned, his eyes twinkling. “How about a drink?”
The man was incorrigible, but it made her heart dance a merry tune. Twenty minutes later, they slipped into a booth at the back of the alpine-themed bar, where the menus were held in a holder shaped like the main lodge. The Christmas decorations complemented the theme—tinsel and fake holly everywhere. Tana had to brush her fingers across it to be sure it wasn’t real. The Elkin family pulled out all the stops at Christmas. All the artwork on the wall had been wrapped like gifts with silver and gold paper, and a tree in the corner glowed with multicolored lights and gold ribbon. All of it went together seamlessly, but then it should, considering they always hired an event planner.
Tana took a sip of her beer, trying to decide what to talk about.
“Has Lindsey always wanted to ski, or is this a relatively new thing?” Chase made the decision easy. He wanted to talk about her daughter. One of Tana’s favorite subjects.
“Definitely not new. She’s wanted to ski ever since she learned to walk.” Tana cradled her glass in her palms and leaned in closer. “Not just an average skier, a great skier. Like you, in case you couldn’t tell.”
“I can tell.”
They both laughed.
Tana felt comfortable enough to ask the question on her mind. “Is it hard? Not being able to ski anymore, I mean.”
Chase’s gaze grew distant. “A little bit. I’ve had my struggles. But it’s made me slow down and take stock of my life.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. “I’ve had an offer from a friend to be a spokesperson for his sportswear company startup. It would mean leaving Elk Lodge.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Yeah.” Chase took a long drink of his beer. “We had a follow-up call a few days ago that went surprisingly well, but I’ve never seen myself in a sales career. It’s tough to adjust your expectations after something happens. You know what I mean?”
“I do.” Of course Tana did. Her life had been a series of surprises, and having Lindsey meant even more of them. Life had dealt her plenty of adjusted expectations.
“But at the same time, I know I can’t stay here forever.” Chase’s green eyes lingered on hers, and Tana looked down at her beer to hide her blush. “I want to spend the holida
ys with my family, but then I need something else.”
Chase was only beginning to come out of what seemed like a depression over his ski accident. Another good reason this wasn’t the best time for them to explore their attraction. He didn’t even know what he wanted in life. And yet—his determination to move forward with his life drew Tana to him.
“It’s difficult,” she said after a minute. “Things happen. All you can do is roll with it.”
“I could have been better.” Chase winked, his grin a good sign.
“You? I don’t believe it,” Tana scoffed, playing along with him.
He shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.” Chased laughed, and Tana felt herself falling into his laughter headfirst. Heart-first. Enjoying his company was a risk.
She wiped the smile off her face and straightened. “Listen, I don’t think we should...continue this…umm, this,” she waved her hand back and forth between them, “whatever it is that’s going on between us.”
Chase leaned back in the booth. “Why not?” he asked, one eyebrow cocked. “It was just a simple kiss.”
There was nothing simple about it—not to Tana. “It wasn’t a full kiss,” she pointed out.
“Right. And why not?” Chase raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t have minded a real, honest-to-god kiss instead of a three-quarters kiss.”
“We can’t.” Tana couldn’t keep the laugh out of her voice. A three-quarters kiss? Ridiculous.
“I’d say we can.”
“It’s inappropriate.” Time to come clean. “I applied for the ski director position and have a second-round interview coming up soon with your brother Jonas.” She was relieved to have finally told him the truth.
Chase looked surprised, which Tana had to admit was a good look on him. Everything was a good look on him, which was what made everything so hard. It was hard not to talk to him. It was hard to talk to him.