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Nobody's Business (Nobody Romances)

Page 11

by Gina Ardito


  With the unopened card in hand, Lyn limped toward the spindled first mate's chair to April's right.

  "Should you be up and walking around?" April asked with all the authority of an older sister.

  "Don't fuss." She waved a hand in dismissal, and the envelope crackled in the air. "Besides, you know I can't lie in bed all day."

  "Yeah." April grinned. "The bane of lazy days, the Raine work ethic. Do you think our great-great-grandmother was one of those women who gave birth and went back to plowing the fields an hour later?"

  "Probably." Easing her aching muscles into the chair, she attempted a smile but wound up grimacing when the pain sprayed across her back yet again.

  "How's the hip?"

  "Stiff. But I'll live. What's for breakfast?"

  April pushed back her chair and rose. "I'll tell Gerta you're awake and hungry. She made pumpkin pancakes today. Even drew jack-o'-lantern faces on Michael's using chocolate chips. God, I love that woman! If you ever decide to fire her, let me know first, okay? I'd hire her for Rainey-Day-Wife in a heartbeat." She bent close, pushed the hair from Lyn's cheek, and peered at her, maternal concern crinkling her forehead. "You okay?"

  Lyn nodded. "Just coming out of the painkiller fog."

  "Hang tight. I'll get you a cup of coffee, and Gerta will bring you breakfast. Then we'll force-feed you another pain pill, and you'll be foggy all over again. So enjoy clarity while you can." She disappeared into the kitchen.

  Clarity. Yeah, right. Lyn sat with her elbows on the tabletop, her head cradled between her hands, and the envelope lying before her. Curiosity burned, but cotton had replaced the brain in her skull. Her eyes were still too blurry to read so much as the florist's name and address.

  April was right about one thing. Coffee would definitely help.

  "Here we go." Sure enough, April came back with two mugs full of caffeinated comfort. "Skim milk, no sugar for me." She winked. "I've got a wedding dress to fit into."

  Lyn reached for the second mug.

  "Half-and-half for you, right?" April tenderly took Lyn's hand and placed the mug inside her curled fingers. "Got it?"

  Lyn nodded. "You should have been a nurse."

  "I'm a professional mom. Plays into the job description."

  April sat beside her again. For several minutes, neither spoke as each sipped and allowed the brew to jolt them into the day.

  After a while, the silence of the house permeated Lyn's fuzzy head. "Where is everybody?"

  "Jeff took the kids to the mountain for the day so you and I could have some `alone time.'"

  Lyn quirked a brow. "And why exactly do we need `alone time'?"

  Under Lyn's scrutiny, April's gaze focused on the words emblazoned on her mug while her fingertips toyed with the curved handle. "That depends on you."

  Uh-oh. April's sudden aversion to looking her in the eye didn't bode well. "C'mon, April. Speak up. Gimme the details. What's planned for me today that I'm not going to like?"

  "Well..." She sipped the coffee, smiled again at Lyn over the rim. "I figure we can either call Summer to ask for her help with my wedding . . ."

  "Or ... ?" Lyn waited for the other shoe to drop.

  "Or we could talk about your date last night."

  Ka-thump.

  April's eyes brightened as she fidgeted in the captain's chair, clutching the armrests as if to keep from leaping into the air. "Who was that guy? And why didn't you tell me you were dating again? Not that I'm not thrilled. Believe me, I am. It's long past time you put away the grieving widow routine. And this Doug guy's adorable. In a big, bad lion-with-a-thorn-in-hispaw kinda way. Did you meet him at Ski-Hab? How'd he lose his arm? Did you see his prosthesis? It's totally realistic. You could barely tell it was fake. He says it has fingerprints and everything."

  Lyn rubbed the pads of her fingertips over her closed eyelids and sighed. "April. You're rambling."

  A flaw only Jeff found endearing. For everyone not currently engaged to April, including Lyn, her runaway mouth had the same effect as nails on a chalkboard. Particularly when she honed in on a topic no one else wanted to discuss. Like Douglas Sawyer.

  "Oops." April slapped four fingers over her mouth. "Sorry. I guess I'm nervous about calling Summer."

  "Why? I'd imagine she'd be thrilled to help you. This is right up her alley: planning, organizing, bossing you around." Lyn laughed, but April didn't join in.

  "Let's get back to your date," April said with a feral grin. "I see you haven't opened your card yet."

  Amusement fled abruptly, and Lyn frowned. "I'm not ready."

  "What's to be ready for? It's a card. And I'm dying to see what it says"

  Another sigh escaped Lyn's lips. "You have no boundaries, do you?"

  "Oooooh. Testy, huh? That means this is more than just a date for you. It's a relationship."

  "It's not a relationship. For heaven's sake, we just met two days ago. And how would you know what my testiness means? If I was, in fact, testy?"

  "Trust me. You're testy. And I know what that means, thanks to Jeff."

  She briefly closed her eyes so April wouldn't notice her pupils rolling into the back of her head. "Just because you're marrying a psychologist does not make you an expert on people."

  "That's not what I meant."

  Sarcasm slipped out easier than a third sigh. "Do tell, oh wise and gifted one."

  "Okay, I will. You really like this guy. And that scares the bejesus out of you"

  "Nope."

  "Liar." The accusation slipped between them easier than a dryer sheet under a door. "You can't fool me, Lyn. I've been there. When I first started falling for Jeff, the idea scared me stupid."

  "I'm not-"

  "Yeah, you are. Scared stupid. Just like me. For different reasons, but the reaction's the same. See, I kept thinking about my first marriage. All the times Peter cheated on me and A, did I want to go through that agony again and B, what if he cheated because I was boring? How long would it be before Jeff found me boring?"

  "I am not boring."

  "Yeah, you are," April repeated with a toothy grin. "But that's beside the point. Those were my issues. Your issues are different."

  Lyn folded her arms over her chest and glared. "So what are my issues, Dr. April?"

  April shrugged. "Only you know for sure, but I bet one of them is, `What if I fall head over heels for this guy and he leaves me? Like Marc did."'

  "Marc didn't leave me."

  April's features softened, as did her tone. "Yeah, sweetie. He did. I admit, it wasn't his choice. But he left you. And then you left you. You holed yourself up in this inn and built a wall around your heart. But now, this Doug guy's climbing over your wall. And you're scared stupid."

  And April came waaaaay too close to the truth for Lyn to continue this discussion. "You know what? If I want analysis, I'll talk to Jeff."

  For the first time since she'd arrived at the inn, April frowned. "Please don't. He's a stickler for patient confidentiality, so if you talk to him, I'll never find out if I'm right."

  "Does it matter? Even if you're wrong, you won't admit it."

  "But I'm right, aren't I? You met two days ago. You shared an intimate dinner last night. He sent you that gorgeous gaggle of flowers this morning. And you haven't even looked at the card because you're `not ready.' That means this guy's pretty special to you."

  "In the first place, I'm not ready because I'm still too blearyeyed to focus. Second, our so-called `intimate dinner' was soup and a sandwich, for heaven's sake. Practically lunch."

  "Uh-huh. And Friday night?"

  Lyn sipped her coffee. "There is no Friday night. "

  "There most definitely will be a Friday night."

  "Twenty minutes ago, you had me confined to bed"

  "Until you reminded me you don't like to sit still." April pointed her teaspoon like a proctor's baton. "This is life, Lyn. Welcome back, we've missed you. The thing is, you don't just take a chance when you play Monopoly, kiddo. You'v
e got to seize the joy out of every moment, suck life dry. Life's been sucking you dry for too long. So if you're not confined to bed, you're going out with Doug. Besides"-she beamed brighter than afternoon sun on pristine snow-"I already promised I'd drive you there."

  April was so revved up, she wouldn't listen, no matter how logical the argument. Okay, so if she wouldn't listen to Lyn, maybe she'd listen to someone else.

  "I think," Lyn said slowly, "it's time to call Summer."

  The good thing about going anywhere with Jeff was that he didn't expect Becky to stay with her little brother all day. In fact, after two runs when they first arrived, he cut her loose. As long as she met them for lunch at the lodge at one, she had free access to the mountain without Michael as her constant companion. Thank God. She couldn't exactly talk to guys with the twerp around.

  Becky wasn't looking for a long-term relationship, or even a romance. She just wanted to hook up with a hot guy for the week. Someone to take a few runs with, to share some laughs and make this week bearable. Most of all, someone who'd look really good in the photos she'd take. So her friends wouldn't pity her for missing winter break in Cancun, thanks to this family trip.

  Once out of Jeff and Michael's visual range, she pulled the cherry lip balm from her inside jacket pocket and rolled it over her lips. Pretending to inspect her board, she watched the skiers and boarders lining up near the triple chairlift for possible companion candidates. A few couples, several junior highaged boys, and a guy with a purple-and-green-striped jester hat on his head. Pass.

  With a calculating eye, she began her mental scrutiny of the males loitering around the base area.

  Loser, double loser, loser extraordinaire ...

  Ah! There! Lone guy headed for the triple chairlift. Could be cute. Hard to tell with the helmet covering most of his head and face. But he had more potential than anyone else so far. He would definitely require closer inspection. She strode to the lift, her snowboard tucked under her arm, then meandered toward the line for singles only, right behind her target. Mr. Potential didn't look in her direction, so she faked a kitty-cat sneeze.

  That got him to turn around, at least long enough to murmur gesundheit.

  She flashed a perfect smile. "Thank you."

  Shoot. He already faced front again. Before she could get a good look at him, and he could get any real look at her.

  Becky inched closer to the guy, so close that if he whipped his head around, his lips would smack her forehead deadcenter. Time to open up a conversation.

  "Ummm ... excuse me?"

  He didn't move.

  Cute but stupid? She could work with that if she had to. Not her first choice, of course, but if he turned out to be a goodlooking zero, she'd take a bunch of pics this morning and then ditch him by lunchtime. So long as he didn't have that faraway look: the farther away, the better he looked.

  Becky was just about to tap the guy on the shoulder when she heard, "Hey, it's you."

  Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Ace Riordan. He stood outside the black strapped queue, goggles and helmet dangling from his left hand and his board held against his right hip.

  Heat rocketed up from her throat to her cheeks. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Not him. Not again. Not after their last meeting when she'd called him a perv. And made a total idiot of herself.

  "Becky, right?" he said. "You're Lyn's niece."

  Funny. He didn't seem angry or insulted. More like ... interested. In her? Why?

  She tried to speak, but croaked instead. Her mouth felt more clogged than the lint filter in her dorm's dryer. Swallowing hard, she nodded.

  "Are you headed up to the summit?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "You any good on that thing?" He jerked his head toward her pink camo snowboard.

  Another nod.

  "Mind if I ride along with you?"

  "Why?" The word escaped before she thought better of it.

  He shrugged. "Why not?"

  Because you're you, and I'm me. This time, though, she managed to keep the comment behind tight lips.

  "Come on." He ducked under the black barrier and popped up beside her on the other side. "Slide over to the two-or-more lane."

  "Hey!" someone behind Becky interjected. "No cutting."

  Ace smiled, his teeth whiter than the snow covering the trails around them. "Sorry. We'll move to the back of the line, okay?"

  His words still hung in the air when the first squeal of recognition erupted. "Omigod, you're Ace Riordan!"

  With a sidelong wink at Becky, he replied, "Guilty as charged."

  On sharp gasps and dull whispers, the crowd rushed forward in a frenzy. Cell phones and digital cameras popped up at every angle. Elbows jabbed her back and ribs. Boots stepped on her toes. The crush of people jerked her left, yanked her right, and pushed her backward, all at the same time. Shouted requests pierced the air.

  "Ace, can I get a picture?"

  "Why are you here, Ace?"

  "Would you sign my jacket?"

  A wooly mammoth of a man suddenly threw his weight into Becky, and she stumbled. Oh God. She'd be trampled to death under this mob. A swift hand shot out to grip her elbow, keeping her upright. Ace.

  Her snowboard slipped from her grasp, fell to the slushy ground, and became lost in the sea of boots surging to reach the world-famous Snowball.

  "Easy guys," Ace shouted, to be heard over the roar of requests. "Cut my girl here a little slack. She's not used to this kind of attention."

  He wound an arm around Becky's waist, hauled her up against his side. Annoyance took a temporary backseat to safety, and she clung to him.

  "My board," she whispered. "It's on the ground."

  Ace gave her a surreptitious nod. "Okay, okay, everybody do me a favor and take one giant step backward, please."

  Like an army of robots, the clamoring fans retreated enough for Becky to scoop up her now totally scuffed board. Once she held it high enough to inspect thoroughly, her spirits sank to new depths. A jagged crack ran between the bindings. Great. She must have tutored jock-for-brains Isaac Morgan more than a hundred hours to earn the money for this board. Now it was garbage. Tears of frustration filled her eyes, but she sniffed to hold them in check.

  Bitterness burned her throat as she switched her focus from the ruined snowboard to Ace's grinning face. Why had he popped up here all of a sudden? She should have known he had some ulterior motive for paying attention to her. Like the great Ace Riordan would ever want to spend time with a nobody like her.

  The harder she tried to stifle her emotions, the more ragged her breathing grew. "You know," she managed to say over her tremors, "I'm really sorry I insulted you the other day. But at least, when I did it, I had no idea who you were. And I thought I was protecting my brother. But this?" She held up the cracked board. "This was just plain mean."

  One last shove against his shoulder, and she stalked by him, headed against the flow of the throng-away from Ace Riordan. As far away as she could get.

  Using her broken board to part the crowd, she zigged and zagged past the eager fans until she finally broke out of the queue. She should have gone to Cancun, should have told her mother she needed to stay on campus, should have opted to spend the week with Aunt Summer or Grandma rather than come on this stupid trip.

  "Hey!" Ace called over the melee. "Wait!"

  Becky only increased her speed. Any minute now her anger would surrender to her despair. And she'd die before she'd let him see her cry.

  "Becky! Wait up!"

  She ignored him and kept going. After leaving the ruined snowboard against a battered steel trash can, she thudded across the outdoor deck. She nearly collided with a family exiting the lodge when she yanked the handles of the double doors. With a quick dodge and a mumbled "Excuse me," she fled inside.

  The noise level indoors slammed her like a brick wall, along with the odors of oily food, smoky wood from the fireplace, and sweaty old socks. Naturally, there wasn't a chair or inch of tabl
e space available to sit and sulk. Going downstairs would mean walking past the ski shop with all that shiny, top-of-the-line equipment displayed in the windows.

  She had no interest in visiting the lame game room again, and she wasn't old enough to go upstairs to the bar area. For now, she meandered through the crowds, bypassing customers holding disposable cups of hot chocolate, coffee, soup, or chili, and avoiding tripping over boot bags and duffels lined up on the outskirts of the aisles between tables. Everyone seemed to be laughing or talking excitedly or just plain having a good time with friends and family. Everyone except her.

  And today was only day three! She'd never make it to the weekend without her board or her headphones, which Michael had ruined yesterday. Forget her cell phone. Mount Elsie was the black hole of dead zones. She was stuck in solitary confinement until Sunday night.

  On a dramatic sigh, she thunked over to the cafeteria area. Maybe she could drown her problems in a hot chocolate and a soft pretzel. With some of that nacho cheese sauce for dipping. Carb City, the perfect place to cure the blues. The line wended from the tray and silverware area, past the information booth, and almost to the back of the lodge. Oh well. It wasn't like she was in a rush. She had hours to kill with nothing to do.

  Reaching the line's end, she slid behind the last customer and proceeded to wait. The heat from the fireplace behind her seared through her jacket, but with no place to stuff her gear, she suffered in silence.

  She'd barely moved up two spots before a voice murmured in her ear. "Hey."

  Whirling, she met Ace Riordan's heart-melting smile with a growl. "What? You're not done ruining my day?"

  "I'm sorry about your board."

  "Yeah, I'll bet."

  "No, really." He took her hand. "Come on."

  She pulled out of his grasp with a jerk that almost made her tumble, but she managed to steady herself by slamming her knee against the edge of a bench. Fabulous. All this and bruises too. Who could ask for anything more? With one hand rubbing her abused leg, she ordered, "Go away."

  "Will you just come with me? Please?"

  "Why? You have fans lurking in a dark corner to grab me and shave my head?"

  He had the nerve to laugh. "God, you sure get your back up easy."

 

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