Ex-girlfriend, she reminded herself.
She wasn’t going to think about that, though. She was going to find J.J. The leader board didn’t show a time for him; hopefully, that meant he hadn’t gone yet. Her best move was to catch him at the bottom, after his run. If she could catch his attention, hopefully they could talk long enough to agree to meet for coffee or something. And what came after, she’d trust to faith.
Out of the mix of French in the announcement, she suddenly heard J.J.’s name. And she began to work her way through the crowd to the front.
Hell, was J.J.’s first thought as he exploded out of the starting gate onto the course. Only three hours had passed, but it had changed everything. New snow blanketed the slope, gripping his skis to slow them down, obscuring the ice-covered underlayer.
Those first instants out of the gate were crucial, the chance to use the power in his legs and arms to add as much speed as possible before he settled into the tuck he’d do his best to maintain the rest of the way down the mountain. A minute and a half to ski the course. A minute and a half to justify his existence.
The speed of his passage sent the snow crystals biting into his cheeks. Automatically, he set his body for a turn, legs tensing to offset the g-forces. And skidded for a heart-stopping instant on a patch of ice that lay beneath the new powder, invisible.
That was downhill, taking it all out on the edge and bringing it back. It wasn’t about beating Hermann or any of the other racers—it was about beating the course. It was about pulling the best possible performance out of himself, eking every bit of speed from every second. Like Franz Klammer in the 1976 Olympics, taking every chance, riding on the edge of disaster all the way, because that was when you skied the ultimate run. That was when you found the ultimate performance, when you skied without fear.
A man could do that when he didn’t have anything to lose.
Lainie worked her way to the front of the crowd, her heart hammering. The jumbo screen showed J.J. flying down the mountain, flinging himself over the edge of a knoll, never breaking his tuck. And then she saw him appear at the top of the slope, a speeding figure in blue, flying down to the finish, flying down to her.
J.J. flashed over the finish line to the sound of frenzied cheering. He looked to the leader board for his time, even as he straightened and dropped his hands. Pushing up his goggles and pulling off his helmet, he brought himself around in a careless curve that he wasn’t even conscious of.
1:20:04. Enough to nudge him to the top, just barely. He scanned the crowd, waving to Suzanne Madsen. And then he froze, his gaze caught by a flash of glossy hair and dark eyes. In disbelief, he looked again. It was Lainie, standing there at the rail, cheering for him.
Lainie.
He stared at her incredulously. And in that instant he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt.
He was in love with her.
He brought himself around to a stop in front of her, unable to believe that she was really there.
“Surprise,” she said, with a smile that looked a little tense around the edges. “Congratulations. Looks like you’re in the lead.”
“For now,” he said unable to stop himself from reaching out to catch her hands. She was real, he thought as he touched her. “Talk about sights for sore eyes. What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d come see things for myself,” she said. “Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me to do?”
“It’s worth seeing.”
“I believe you,” she said, staring into his eyes, and he knew the words meant far more than just the race.
He pulled her toward him and she flowed into his arms.
“I missed you so much,” she said, pressing her face to his neck.
There was a smattering of applause from the crowd. Only the thin plastic of the snow fence lay between them, but she was warm and delicious and there, he thought in amazement.
Lainie sighed. “You were right, J.J., in everything you said. I blew it.”
“So did I.”
“I didn’t believe in you, but I do now.” She raised her head to look at him. “I want to try again. I want to make this work. I want to do it better.”
He caught her face and fused his mouth to hers. “God, I love you,” he murmured, stupidly grateful to be getting another chance. “I’m sorry I screwed up. I want to do it better, too.”
“I know we can,” she breathed against his lips.
Time slid away in the warmth of the kiss, the feeling of homecoming and awakening desire. Someone nearby laughed and J.J. stirred. “So, you want to do it better, huh? How about if we go to my hotel room and get started on that right now?”
She laughed and pressed a kiss on him. “Later. First, you have to see whether you’ve won.”
“Don’t have to, sweet girl.” He tightened his arms. “I already have.”
Epilogue
Mother’s Day, Eastmont, VT
“Five bucks says he faints.”
The scent of burning charcoal and grilling meat drifted up into the warm late spring air as Gabe, Nick and J.J. stood around the barbeque behind the Trask family farmhouse.
Gabe shook his head at his brother’s comment, beer in one hand, spatula in the other. “I say he won’t even make it into the room.” The edge of one of the patties began to smoke and Gabe reached for the spray bottle.
J.J. splashed it with beer.
Gabe glowered at him. “You just poured Sam Adams on my burger.”
“Consider it a marinade,” J.J. said. “Anyway, you’re both wrong. I’ve got a twenty that says the minute things get going, he’ll kick all the doctors out and do it himself.”
Gabe and Nick stared at each other for a heartbeat. “How’d we miss that one?” Nick asked, turning to look across the grass to where Jacob hovered over Celie.
A very pregnant Celie.
“No fair,” Gabe complained, flipping the burgers onto a platter next to the grilled buns. “You’re already set to make money on the twins bet.”
“Is it my fault that I’m a genius?” Ignoring Nick’s snort, J.J. picked up the tray and walked toward the picnic tables that sat under the spreading cover of a maple tree. Red-and-white checked tablecloths fluttered in the breeze. The Trask women circled around him, laying out food or finishing up table settings. J.J. walked up to Lainie and glanced down at the bowl she held. “Potato salad?” he asked with a sniff.
“Burnt offerings?” She nodded at the tray he held.
“It’s a sign of my devotion to you.” He pressed a kiss on her, thinking you had to love a woman when she was not only gorgeous and yours, but had food in her hands. “Just think, you marry me, you can look forward to a lifetime of it.”
“I thought I was marrying into a lifetime of glamour.”
“Shows what you know.”
She set aside the food and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ll show you what I know.” The kiss was short but full of promise, full of the complexity and meaning that seemed to deepen by the day.
“Make way for the mothers,” Nick said behind them.
“Oh, you,” Molly Trask said, but her cheeks pinkened.
“Can you call a pregnant woman a mother?” Gabe asked.
“I think you call her whatever Jacob wants you to,” J.J. observed, watching Jacob hover protectively over Celie as she walked over. J.J. moved to pull out a chair for her and Jacob helped her settle. “How’s the baby baking going?”
“The buzzer’s about ready to go off,” Celie said ruefully and rubbed her stomach. “I don’t know if we’ve got twins in there or an entire hockey team.”
“When’s the big day?”
“A month,” she said.
“Hadley will help out,” Gabe offered magnanimously as they sat down. “She’s got experience with delivering babies.”
Hadley threw him an amused look. “I seem to remember you telling me you were the catcher in high school.”
Celie laughed. “Thanks for the offer, but I
’ll have all the help I need.” She laid a hand over Jacob’s and looked at him fondly. “Jacob’s going to be there with me the whole time.”
Gabe, Nick and J.J. looked at each other and burst out laughing.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-1754-6
UNDER HIS SPELL
Copyright © 2006 by Chez Hardy LLC
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*Under the Covers
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§Sealed with a Kiss
Under His Spell (Holiday Hearts #4) Page 21