Wilde Thing

by Jannine Gallant

  “You have the ski movies in addition to competition winnings. Surely starring in the Extreme High series pays pretty well?”

  “Sure, but new talent will take my place before too much longer. The commercial endorsements will fall off about the same time. I’m not stupid. I know my glory years will end well before I turn forty.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Oh?”

  She slipped her hand into his and squeezed. “Despite the fact you ski off cliffs for a living, your feet are solidly grounded in reality.”

  “Probably because my parents drummed responsibility into all of our brains growing up. When it became obvious early on that I’d eventually be able to ski at an international level, my dad sat me down and told me not to get a swelled head. He assured me he and Mom weren’t going to support me in their old age, so I’d better do something to insure I didn’t wind up sleeping on a park bench.”

  Hannah’s smile stretched. “I love it. Good for your dad.”

  “He’s not one to tolerate fools, especially if they’re related to him.”

  “That reminds me…I talked to Eden yesterday. Your parents want us to stop by the ranch before we head to Colorado. Is that an option?”

  “I’d love to if we can wrap up filming in a couple of days.”

  Marco glanced up from his book and frowned. “You need at least a week of training in Crested Butte before the competition begins. You’re out of shape.”

  “Agreed.” Tripp let out a sigh. “We’ll have to wait and see how it goes.”

  “That’s what I told Eden.” When the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom, Hannah raised her seatback to an upright position and tightened her belt. “I mentioned extenuating circumstances like the weather are hard to predict.”

  Tripp snorted. “Sometimes shit happens. We’ll hope for the best and deal with whatever comes out way.”

  Hannah gripped his hand as they began their descent. When the plane jostled and shook on entering a thick layer of cloud cover, her stomach knotted. She gritted her teeth. “Hope for the best and pray we don’t get hit by a lightning bolt would be more like it.”

  “Have a little faith.” Humor laced his words as his fingers tightened around hers. “The sun is supposed to come out tomorrow.”

  * * * *

  Tripp stepped out of the helicopter at the top of the mountain peak into a shimmering world of white and blue. Ducking beneath the rotating blades, he hiked with his skis slung over one shoulder up toward a rocky point above the edge of the precipice and waited while one of the cameramen hauled an equipment bag to the vantage point he’d selected to film Tripp’s takeoff. Nothing before him but pristine, untracked snow beneath a brilliant, cobalt sky. Life didn’t get much better.

  The helicopter revved up with a shrill whine before rising to circle around then hover some distance below. A second photographer would film from the open door of the chopper, capturing his descent. Adrenaline pumped as Tripp snapped into his bindings and watched for the signal from the cameraman. When it came, he tapped his poles together then tucked low and ripped down the slope as cold wind lashed his face beneath his goggles. Heart pounding in a crazy rhythm, he launched into clear blue space then twisted and spun in a kangaroo flip before the ground rushed up to meet him. Landing backward, he fought to stay upright in the loose snow. Using all his strength and skill, he flipped around without a break in tempo to glide down the steep pitch, powder spraying out behind him. The echo of the cameraman’s whoop of elation dissipated in the vast expanse of empty sky.

  Making giant slalom turns, Tripp left a perfect track behind him for the videographer to capture from the hovering chopper. By the time he reached the crew at the bottom of the run, he was winded and riding on sheer joy. His shoulder ached a little from the twisting maneuver, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass. He’d try the jump again in a heartbeat.

  Marco met him with a backslapping hug. “Freaking awesome! Dude, I was seriously worried, but you pulled it off.”

  The director beamed. “Damn, that’s exactly what we needed. Great performance, Tripp.”

  “God, it felt good to be back on the snow. What’s next?”

  “Two more runs of that caliber will wrap up the retakes. Grab something to eat if you’re hungry and get some rest. We’ll send you to the peak just north of here in about forty-five minutes along with Zeke and Laird. I want you between them, and I expect to see more stellar moves.” He rubbed his hands together. “The producers are going to be thrilled. We couldn’t have asked for better conditions. With the clouds yesterday, I was concerned, but…” The director’s voice faded as he walked away with another member of the camera crew.

  “How’s the shoulder?”

  Tripp’s attention swiveled back to Marco. “A little stiff but not bad, considering. The work Hannah’s done on it really kept the muscles loose.”

  “Good. She’s great, by the way.”

  “Yeah, she is. I’m lucky she agreed to fly out here with me. She wasn’t thrilled about having to leave her dog with a neighbor when she found out we weren’t driving.” He grinned. “I’m even luckier she’s back at the lodge right now. If she’d seen my run, she would have had a heart attack then kicked my ass for even trying that trick.”

  “Probably. Don’t push it today, okay? Keep in mind you have the championships coming up. Falling on that shoulder now will take you completely out of the running. After what I witnessed up there, I believe you still have a solid chance at winning.”

  “I won’t attempt anything I can’t land, but the producers expect me to pull off a few great tricks.”

  “True. Still, it’s your pretty face in the interview portions that makes these movies such a hit. Didn’t you also mention something about a hot tub scene?”

  Tripp let out a sigh. “Ski groupies in bikinis. I argued about including that footage but was shut down. Whatever. The true sports fans want to see epic runs.” He held up a hand when Marco opened his mouth. “But, I won’t take any unnecessary risks.”

  “Good to hear. Go grab a sandwich. You need to refuel after all the energy you burned.”

  Hours later, Tripp pushed open the door into the lodge and headed straight to the bar. He wanted nothing more than a beer and a quiet corner to unwind before dinner. Hannah’s company would be a bonus. After taking the frosty mug from the bartender, he pulled his cell out of his jacket pocket and phoned her.

  She was breathless when she answered. “How’d it go?”

  “Better than I could have hoped. We wrapped up an hour ago.” He slid into an empty booth and let out a sigh. “No need for retakes tomorrow, and before you ask, the shoulder is fine.”

  “That’s great. Where are you?”

  “Downstairs. Do you want to join me?”

  “I worked out in the gym earlier and just got out of the shower. I’ll be down in about twenty minutes.”

  Visions of Hannah, naked and wet, stalled his response. Maybe I should go upstairs instead…

  “Tripp?”

  “Uh, come down when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.”

  “Okay.” She disconnected.

  He sipped his beer and glanced around the bar. Zeke Copeland and Laird Johansen, the other two skiers featured in the film, were at the far end of the room with a group of college girls on a ski holiday, but Tripp didn’t feel like joining them. He wasn’t sure where Marco had disappeared to. Normally Tripp would be at the center of the action, but this evening, he wasn’t in the mood.

  Swallowing the last of his beer, he glanced at his watch. Hannah should be down in a few minutes. He slid out of the booth and headed over to order another brew for himself and a glass of chardonnay for her from the bartender. After placing his request, he leaned back on the polished wood to survey the après-ski crowd. At the far end of the bar, Zeke tilted his head and let loose a full belly laugh at something one of the girls had said. His dreadlocks shook around his shoulders. L
aird grinned in response then touched the shoulder of a petite redhead and pointed toward Tripp. A moment later, the girl headed his way.

  “I hope you plan to join us.” She batted mascara-coated lashes that were almost as long as his. “My friends and I were thrilled when we heard you were filming today.” She edged in a little closer. “We’re up for just about anything tonight.”

  “I’m waiting for someone, but it looks like Laird and Zeke are happy to keep you company.”

  Her lip came out in a pout as she laid a hand on his arm. “They’re great, don’t get me wrong, but you were the one I wanted to meet. I’ve heard stories about the Wilde Thing that just about melted me.”

  “Look, uh…”

  “Kimmy.”

  “Kimmy. It’s nice to meet you, but I’m afraid I’m not free this evening.”

  She let out a sigh. “Figures. Can I at least get your autograph?”

  “Of course.”

  She bent to dig through the beaded bag hanging over one shoulder and came up with a marking pen. “Here you go.” She handed him the marker then pulled the scoop neck of her gold sweater down to reveal a full, white breast, stopping just short of getting arrested for public nudity. “Sign away.”

  Tripp swallowed. “Sure.” His hand shook a little as he scrawled his signature across her soft skin. Heat crept up the back of his neck. “There you go.”

  “Thanks.” Standing on her toes, she grabbed his face and pressed a kiss to his lips before taking the pen and sauntering back to her friends.

  He let out a long breath. “Jesus.”

  The bartender grinned as he pushed two glasses toward him. “I can’t believe you turned that down.”

  “Me, either. But I did, and that tells me something I’ve been trying to figure out.” He pulled a ten from his pocket and slapped it down on the bar. “Thanks. Keep the change.”

  “Appreciate it. The woman you have waiting in the wings must be something.”

  “She really is.” Tripp picked up the drinks and turned away. His gaze locked on Hannah, standing just inside the doorway wearing a dark red dress that hugged all her curves without showing off a thing. His heart picked up an extra beat, and a smile curved his lips.

  She didn’t respond…except to turn away. Behind her, Marco stopped her retreat with a hand on her arm. He bent his head, and his lips moved, but they were too far away for Tripp to hear what he said. Hannah gave a headshake as he threaded his way through the tables between them, wondering what the hell was wrong.

  “I know it’s typical and doesn’t…” Her voice trailed off as he reached them.

  “You look stunning. I ordered you a drink.” He held out the wineglass. “Uh, you’ll have to get your own, Marco.”

  “No problem.” His trainer turned a sympathetic look on Hannah before walking away.

  She finally took the glass he still held. “Thank you.” Her gaze narrowed, and her shoulders squared beneath the clingy red material. “I’m not in the mood for a…crowd. I think I’ll order dinner delivered to my room.”

  He frowned. “What’s wrong? You’re all dressed to go out. In fact, I should shower and change out of my ski gear before we eat. We can find a quiet restaurant if that’s what you prefer.”

  “Are you really that dense?”

  Taking her arm, he practically dragged her back to the booth he’d occupied earlier. “Apparently. I can see you’re angry with me. Why don’t you spill your gripe, so we can clear up the problem?”

  Hannah let out a long breath. “Not angry. Disappointed. Look, go enjoy yourself with those girls—who, by the way, are way too young for you—and I’ll eat on my own. Or maybe Marco will keep me company.”

  “The hell with that! I already told Kimmy I wasn’t interested in partying with them.”

  One brow shot up. “Before or after you signed her boob?”

  He grinned. “You saw that, did you?”

  “Not funny, Tripp. Marco said it didn’t mean anything, but—”

  “Exactly right. Do you know how many boobs I’ve signed over the years? Probably at least a couple dozen. It was no big deal other than being a bit embarrassing.”

  She sipped her wine and didn’t respond.

  He reached for the hand lying on the table and held it in a firm grasp. “Can we enjoy our drinks and talk about how you spent your day? Then I’ll go shower and change, and we’ll have a nice dinner somewhere. Please?”

  She studied him for a long minute before finally nodding. “All right.”

  He slumped back in the seat as relief flowed through him. “Great.”

  Her amber eyes darkened. “For future reference, the next boob you sign may not be your last, but it will certainly be the final time you touch mine. Is that clear?”

  “As crystal.” He gave her a lazy smile. “I may be dense, but I’m not stupid. No more signing miscellaneous co-ed body parts.”

  She opened her mouth then shut it and shook her head. “I’m not even going to ask. Honestly, I’d rather not know.”

  He let out a breath. “Good decision.”

  Chapter 14

  Hannah stood at the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony with a view of the Tetons beneath a moonlit sky spread before her. But the beauty of the breathtaking panorama was eclipsed by the memory of the redhead planting a kiss on Tripp’s surprised lips. The whole scene at the bar—from walking through the doorway just in time to see him sign the woman’s breast, to the lip-lock, then finally his nonchalant attitude—had cemented her knowledge that their relationship was on tenuous footing. Maybe he could shrug off such encounters as all part of the package that came with being a celebrity in the world of skiing, but she couldn’t.

  When the shower shut off, she clenched her fists at her sides. She’d done her best to drink her glass of wine and maintain her composure, but it had taken an effort. She didn’t want to fight with Tripp, but the urge to shout that he had enabled that woman’s behavior by not taking a stand against it was strong. Drawing a deep breath, she let it out slowly. By the time he stepped out of the bathroom freshly showered and shaved and dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt that exactly matched his eyes, she’d made a few decisions. She would let the situation go…this time.

  Hannah was all about second chances. When she cared about something…or someone…she didn’t give up easily, but everyone had a breaking point. She just hoped Tripp wouldn’t push her past her limit because simply looking at the man set off a barrage of emotions and needs she’d ignored for far too long. His sexy smile and those bedroom eyes alone made it a little easier to forgive him for being clueless.

  “Ready to go get some dinner?” He picked up his wallet and the keys to the rental car and slid them into his pocket. “What are you in the mood to eat?”

  She swallowed. Maybe the fact that he was so…delicious was part of the problem. The man smelled so damn good she was tempted to taste him. When it came to sheer animal attraction, Tripp was in a master class by himself, and she was nothing but a lowly apprentice. That he was interested in a relationship with her when he could have his pick of women still amazed her. She might be smart and witty and even pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way, but sexy wasn’t in her DNA.

  Fingers snapped in front of her nose. “Earth to Hannah.”

  She started and teetered on her heels. Reaching out, she grabbed his arm to steady herself. Muscle flexed beneath her fingers.

  “Sorry, I was thinking.”

  “About where you want to go to dinner?” He gave her a hopeful smile. “I’m starving.”

  “Not exactly.” Shaking off her pensive mood, she scooped up her coat and shrugged into it. “By all means, let’s go eat before you waste away. You can choose the place.”

  “How about Italian? I’m in the mood for pasta.” He held open the door then took her arm as they headed toward the stairs.

  “Fine with me.”

  Once they reac
hed the lobby, Tripp asked the attendant at the front desk for a recommendation and walked away armed with directions to Pasquale’s Ristorante, a fifteen-minute drive from the village. As they approached the front door, the group from the bar that had expanded to include Marco and some of the film crew, emerged. Tripp smiled but kept moving, his arm clamped firmly around Hannah to press her against his side.

  “You two going out?” Zeke’s deep brown eyes looked a little glazed beneath straggling dreadlocks.

  One of the girls—a blonde, not the redhead—giggled and swayed. “You’re missing all the fun.”

  “Maybe, but I’ve a yen for Italian tonight. Enjoy your evening.”

  Laird’s cool blue gaze scanned Hannah from her upswept hair down to her strappy heels. “Looks like Tripp has his own party in mind.”

  Marco gave him a shove. “Don’t be an ass, Johansen.”

  Without responding, Tripp pushed open the door and hustled Hannah out into the frigid evening air.

  “Brrr.” She tucked her hands into her pockets as they hurried across the parking lot.

  “Definitely cold tonight.” When they reached the rental car, Tripp opened the passenger door for her then hurried around the front bumper. Once settled inside, he started the engine and turned the heat up, though the air still blew cold. “I hope that group doesn’t drive anywhere. Seemed to me the party is already well under way. Good thing no one has to ski tomorrow.” He turned out of the parking lot and drove through the outskirts of the village. “Speaking of which…”

  Hannah glanced over as the occasional streetlight flashed light and shadow across his face. “Are we leaving in the morning?”

  “If you like, we can take a quick trip to the ranch to spend a couple of days there then fly out of Cody to Gunnison on Friday. What do you think?”

  Hannah huddled in her coat when the heater struggled to warm the air blowing through the vents as they climbed the winding highway. “Sounds great. Did you contact your parents already?”

  “If you’re on board with the plan, I’ll call them when we get to the restaurant.”