Snowy Mountain Nights

by Lindsay Evans

  Reyna was holding up a bikini, one that was shocking pink and barely covered any skin, in front of her torso, playfully swinging her hips at Bridget, when she saw a familiar face. Garrison. Reyna felt a jolt of gladness at the sight of him, then immediately remembered he had been talking intimately with another woman the last time she saw him. A woman who very well might be her replacement in his bed.

  Garrison stood at the jewelry counter, gorgeous in his thick gray jacket over a dark sweater and jeans. Effortlessly, she recalled what he looked like under his clothes, his dark skin glistening as he moved between her spread thighs. Reyna swallowed past her dry throat and tried to turn away. But something made him glance up then, and their eyes met.

  Garrison said something to the woman behind the counter as she handed him a small package. Only then did Reyna look away.

  “You’ll definitely get all the boys in the yard with that piece of nothing,” Bridget said.

  But Reyna’s light mood was gone. She put the bikini on the rack. “I’ll be back in a sec,” she said. She wanted, no, needed, to speak with Garrison.

  “Oh, okay.” Bridget shrugged and eyed the little bikini Reyna had just relinquished. “I’ll be over here. Maybe buying this bikini.”

  Reyna walked quickly toward where she had seen Garrison, winding her way through the boutique and its elegantly displayed racks of clothes. He appeared at her side before she was even halfway there.

  He said her name. Reyna stopped walking, felt her body drift toward his in the middle of the store, her skin seeking a reconnection, a touch of that spark from the night before. When he took her arm, she shivered.

  “Can we talk?”

  Without waiting for her answer, he whisked her to the back of the store and into an empty dressing room. He closed the door and clicked the lock shut. Instead of touching her as she expected, Garrison took a step back and shoved his hands into his pockets. The dressing room was large, but not large enough to comfortably accommodate them both. Reyna backed away from him and sank down onto the bench.

  “What’s on your mind?” She gripped her purse in her lap to give herself something to hold on to. With him so close, she couldn’t even remember what she wanted to talk to him about.

  “You.”

  Her stomach fluttered, an annoying habit it was developing around him. Even under the harsh fluorescent lights, he was compelling, more attractive than any man had the right to be. He smelled like a long shower, and of a subtle cologne that made her want to lean closer.

  “It didn’t seem like you wanted to talk to me out there.” Garrison leaned against the farthest wall, his body a beautiful incline that sharply reminded her of seeing him on the train that first day. Just then, the idea of him sleeping with someone else so soon after they’d been together was so ridiculous that she was ashamed of even thinking it. “Do you have any regrets about last night?” he asked.

  No. Reyna took a breath, not quite wanting to tell him the truth. “I feel a little guilty for enjoying my night with you when Marceline was in such a bad way.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying yourself and being happy,” he said. “Even if it’s for a moment.”

  For a moment. The words echoed in Reyna’s head, an ominous and unwanted rumble.

  Even though she had been the one to come into Garrison’s room and initiate their lovemaking on purely temporary grounds, she realized a part of her—a stupid part—had wanted it to mean more. She wanted it to be something other than a moment. And the realization was a little embarrassing, especially since Garrison obviously thought of their night together as simply that, a momentary indulgence in pleasure.

  She squirmed under the fluorescent lights, aware that they probably made her look twice as foolish as she felt. “I have to go back. My friends…” Her voice trailed off.

  “I know.” Garrison curled his fist around something in his pocket, and she felt his eyes on her face like a fleeting caress. He took a card from his wallet. “Make sure you keep it this time. Give me a call once you’re back in the city.”

  His words sounded like such a blow off, if anything, an invitation to be a casual bed partner. And an invitation that he didn’t seem to care whether or not she accepted. Embarrassment and chagrin burned her face as she took the card, careful not to touch his hand. She felt like an idiot for allowing her hormones to carry her along on this tide of attraction, ignoring what she knew about him in favor of what her body wanted.

  “Okay.” She put the card in her back pocket and stood up in the small space, the movement bringing her within kissing distance of him. Her hand fumbled for the lock on the door while her heart pounded heavily in her chest. “I’ll see you.”

  He didn’t try to stop her when she left.

  *

  A thick knot of disappointment sat in Garrison’s throat as he watched Reyna walk away from him. He’d wanted her to stay and make concrete plans to meet again in New York. He was about to ask for just that when he saw the expression on her face. She looked uncomfortable with him in the small dressing room, as if she regretted everything they’d done together.

  He gripped the small box in his pocket. He had meant to give it to her before they left the resort, as proof of something even he was not quite sure of. The night they shared in his cabin cracked open a door he’d thought firmly closed. Through that crack, he had seen possibilities, hints of a different life for himself. That night with her had meant more than just flesh meeting flesh, more than desires being sated under the cover of night. He wanted to let her know that.

  That wish led him to thoughts of a gift. And because he hadn’t known what sort of gift to give a woman like Reyna, he’d asked one of the staff at the resort. The woman had been friendly, a little too friendly, he realized later as she had walked with him toward the lodge.

  Before Reyna, Garrison had never met a woman who affected him so strongly. He had essentially just started to get to know her, yet everything about her made him sit up and take notice. All his reservations about not wanting to end up like his clients—in love one moment and hating each other’s every breath the next—let him know a long time ago that “happily-ever-after,” or at least what passed for it in today’s world, was not something he wanted to pursue.

  But Reyna made him want to pursue her. She made him want. As he usually did after tense negotiations, he analyzed the strongest impressions of their last few minutes together in his head. The stiffness of her shoulders, the way she hadn’t wanted to meet his eyes, and how she’d practically run out of the dressing room after reluctantly taking his business card.

  What had changed between them since the morning in his bed? Earlier, she had been enticing and sexy, demanding as much pleasure as she gave, reveling in their lovemaking under the early-morning sun. But now, she was…different. He settled his hand again around the box in his pocket and left the dressing room.

  In his cabin, he packed up his things in preparation for his drive to see a nearby client before heading to the train station.

  His mother called. He answered his cell and dropped the overnight bag at his feet. “Hey.”

  “Are you actually relaxing this time?” she asked.

  Garrison could hear the sound of a crowd in the background, conversations, a man’s deep voice nearby.

  “Of course.” He smiled into the phone. “I love to relax.”

  “Garrison Felix Richards.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Anthea told me how hard you’ve been working these past few months.”

  Just the past few months? Anthea mustn’t be telling his mother everything. Garrison worked hard all the time. He knew it wasn’t a healthy habit to cultivate, but how else was he supposed to get work done? He’d already set up healthy earning investments to pay for anything his mother wanted. She never had to work again. That was his goal when he started college. But after seeing to her comfort, working hard had simply become a way of life.

  “I’m actually at a resort, Moth
er, if you can believe that.”

  “I do believe, but only because Anthea booked the tickets for you. I told her it was a good idea when she asked me whether or not to do it.”

  “I’m glad I don’t have the misguided idea that I’m running my own life.”

  “Good!” She laughed. “Get back to whatever it is you were doing. I’m just calling to make sure you actually went to the resort. I wouldn’t want Anthea to waste her time or your money.”

  “They’re not wasted, Mother. I’ve enjoyed myself here. It’s very invigorating being up in the mountains.” He smiled, thinking of Reyna and her softness snuggled against him in bed. “I might even make this an annual thing.”

  “What? Don’t make your poor mother have a heart attack.” She actually sounded a little worried. “I don’t know what brought on this attitude change, but I’m glad for it. You won’t find a nice girl to settle down with if you’re stuck in that office with the other sharks.”

  “Mother! This is your only son you’re talking about.”

  “Exactly. I do like to think I know you a little. You’re a shark for a good cause.” A man’s voice said something close to her. “Anyway, I have to go. I just wanted to check in on you. Take care of yourself up there, and don’t get swept away in an avalanche.”

  Garrison chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Love you, baby.”

  He heard the man’s voice again. Whoever this person was, he was definitely with his mother. And he was a demanding guy, by the sound of it.

  When Garrison hung up the phone, the smile fell from his face. He loved his mother, but she never made the best choices where men were concerned. As her son, he would defend her until the ends of the earth, but he knew her weakness was an idealized view of romance and men who promised her the moon and stars but only delivered heartache. That was where romantic entanglements often led. Nowhere.

  He took the small box with Reyna’s gift out of his pocket and dropped it on the bed. What had he been thinking? A gift for a woman who was all but a stranger? He grabbed his overnight bag and headed for the door. In the doorway of the bedroom, he paused and glanced over his shoulder at the box that sat amid the rumpled sheets, deep royal blue against the white cotton. Yes, maybe another man would be able to make better use of it.

  He closed the door behind him.

  Chapter 9

  In New York City, life went on as usual. Or at least, Reyna liked to think so. She went to work at the tattoo studio in Manhattan, took the train back and forth to her Brooklyn apartment, bought groceries and hung out with her friends when their schedules and needs permitted.

  She did not think about Garrison Richards and what they had done together. She did not yearn for his touch in her lonely bed. She did not take out his business card, wishing that she was desperate enough to call him.

  Days passed since the last time she saw him in that cramped dressing room. Then those days became a whole week. At the start of the second week, she ran his card through her shredder and took the papers to the recycling bin. As if she’d known exactly what Reyna had done, Louisa called to tease her about Garrison.

  But she did not give in to the loneliness she felt.

  Some nights she wished she had not opened that Pandora’s box of need. After having a lover for the first time in many, many months, her craving—for Garrison, in particular—was a physical thing. Like the jitters she sometimes got from drinking too much coffee.

  After a long afternoon and a late night at work, she opened her door at almost 5:00 a.m. to the ringing sound of the telephone in her apartment. Reyna frowned as she reached for it. Only her parents called her on her landline. She actually only had it because of them. Her mother was convinced that if Reyna needed 911, her cell phone would be of no use to her, and she would be dead in her apartment for days before the police came. Her mother watched the news too much. But Reyna kept a phone for her apartment and had an extra bill just because of her mother’s paranoia.

  Speaking of paranoia, she didn’t recognize the number on the display. It was a Manhattan area code.

  “Hello?”

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t answer.”

  She lost her breath.

  “Don’t hang up.” Garrison’s deep voice caressed her through the phone.

  “I won’t.” Reyna’s legs were shaking too much for her to stand up. She sank to the floor and sat cross-legged with the phone’s base in her lap. “I’m surprised to hear from you.”

  “Well, you never called me, so I figured it was up to me to make the first move or risk missing out.”

  “What exactly would you be missing out on?”

  “Your company.” His voice dropped even lower. “The chance to wake up next to you again.”

  Reyna took a quiet breath, trying to ignore the memories his words conjured. That morning in the cabin. Sunlight. His mouth on her. The way he’d made her feel.

  “This is real life,” she said. “We’re not on vacation anymore. You’re not obligated to reach out to me.”

  “Who said anything about obligation? I want to see you.”

  “I—”

  “Let me take you out to dinner.” She heard the dim sound of papers rustling in the background. He was working. She wondered if he’d been awake for hours already, or like her, just had not gone to sleep.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to.” He paused. “Because you want to.”

  Her hand tightened around the phone, and she bit her lip. “You don’t know what I want, Garrison.”

  “This, I do. I know what you want when my mouth is on your throat. I feel your pulse beating in your neck, your body’s way of telling me how much you want me to—”

  “Fine. I’ll have dinner with you.”

  “Good.” His deep voice resonated with satisfaction.

  “But it’s just dinner. I—” She wanted to say that she had made a mistake coming to his cabin that night, that they shouldn’t have made love. But the words wouldn’t come.

  “I’m listening, Reyna.”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head, although obviously he couldn’t see her. “Pick me up on Saturday night at eight o’clock.” Normally, she wouldn’t have had the weekend free, especially since she just got back from three days in the mountains. But she had asked for time off to visit her parents. At the last minute, longtime friends of theirs had invited them to Mexico, leaving Reyna suddenly with a free weekend.

  That sound of satisfaction came from him again. “I think I can handle that.”

  “Good. I’ll see you then.” Despite telling herself that it didn’t matter whether or not she saw him, her heart thudded heavily, Saturday being only two short days away.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me where you live?” he asked.

  “I’m sure you can find out that information the same way you found my phone number.”

  “You might have a point there.” His laughter, rumbling and unexpected, teased her through the phone. “I’ll see you then.”

  Reyna hung up and drew a trembling breath. What the hell had just happened?

  She had been thinking intently of Garrison all day. So intently that she apparently conjured him up. She sat on her floor with the sounds of her neighborhood flooding through her third-story window: the rumbling of the subway nearby, reggae music pumping from a passing car, loud laughter and conversation in Spanish and an answering curse in Jamaican patois.

  Her life in New York was so very far from Garrison Richards and the escape to Halcyon she had with her friends once a year. She wondered what he would think of her apartment when he saw it, what he would think of her life.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said out loud.

  Annoyed with herself, she jumped to her feet and left the living room. But her words didn’t stop the glad beating of her heart, or the humming song that left her throat as she showered in preparation for bed.

  *

  Later that morning, after waking much earlier
than usual, she sat at her window seat, drinking her first cup of coffee. Snow was still on the ground, long ago turned to gray slush, but it was still beautiful. Far off, the buildings and streets of Brooklyn glowed with their winter magic. The cars bumped along the streets while the pedestrians wound past each other, heading to whatever was important to them at ten in the morning. Reyna loved it all.

  Her phone rang, her landline again, pulling her from her window-seat musings.

  “Is this Ms. Reyna Allen?”

  “Yes, speaking.” She automatically straightened her spine and hardened her voice at the sound of the professional tone coming through the phone. Was this about her parents? Her heart thumped wildly at the thought.

  “Excellent. This is Amanda from the advertising agency of Kellerman-Stark.”

  Reyna frowned at the name of one of the biggest ad agencies in the city. “What can I do for you?”

  The woman didn’t seem at all fazed by her coolness. “I’m calling because Garrison Richards recommended you to us. Do you have time to come into the office this week and take a look around to see if we are the right fit for you?”

  Reyna blinked. She never sent an application to Kellerman-Stark. It was one of the best in New York, maybe even in the United States. It had never occurred to her to reach that high for her first graphic design job. And the woman, Amanda, didn’t sound as if she wanted to interview her; she seemed ready to offer Reyna her own office right then and there.

  “Um. I’m sorry…Amanda. I really appreciate you calling, but I never applied for a job there.”

  “I’m well aware of that, Ms. Allen. However, based on what Mr. Richards said about you, we think you’d do wonderfully here.”

  Exactly what had Garrison said? That she was a good lay and frequently took initiative? Reyna’s face heated with anger and embarrassment. “Okay. Thank you. Um…unfortunately, I won’t be able to come in and check out your office. I’ll wait until you’ve had a chance to at least look at my portfolio.”

  The silence on the other end of the line made Reyna check to see if they were still connected. They were. “Hello?”