by Jo McNally
Asher sipped his drink and smiled, lifting it in a toast. “I approve.”
Bryce left, headed for the Chalet, where the younger crowd hung out. Asher and Nate stayed and talked booze and restaurant menus. He’d hired an assistant manager out of Vermont, and Matt and Gary Connors were putting together a menu of simple pub fare, but with high-end ingredients. Black Angus burgers. Free-range organic chicken. Locally sourced produce whenever possible, of course.
Nate said he used to ski at the old lodge with Dan Adams back when they were teens, and the place had never looked this good back then. He hinted that he’d pulled out his old skis, but Matt shook his head. They needed another four or five days of cool weather and snowmaking. They hadn’t had much natural snow since the storm, but it was cold enough, especially at night, to make snow nearly nonstop. The slopes were mostly white, but barely.
He and Bryce had already made a few passes down the mountain, testing out the base and the texture. Both were passable for now, considering they hadn’t done any grooming and the base was thin to nonexistent in some places. He’d known going in that running a ski resort this far south in New York was a risky business.
Asher slid his empty glass across the bar, shaking his head at Matt’s offer to refill it. “I gotta get back to my own mountain and get some sleep.” He and Nora had a custom log home on the side of Gallant Mountain, straight across the lake, but not so straight to drive. Asher moved to stand. “I saw Bryce talking to Shane Brannigan the other day at the coffee shop. Looked pretty serious. Is Bryce thinking of hiring him?”
Matt tensed. “Hire him for what?”
He knew what, of course. Shane Brannigan was a well-known sports agent and client manager, with star athletes in multiple sports. Bryce had mentioned meeting him, but never mentioned sitting down with the guy. Nate and Asher looked at each other, picking up on the edge in his voice. He shook his head with a short laugh.
“Nothing like showing all my cards, huh? I know who Shane is and what he does. Bryce can make his own decisions, but right now I’m Bryce’s manager.”
“Sorry, man.” Asher pulled on his jacket. “Didn’t mean to spill the beans. For what it’s worth, Shane’s a great guy.”
Nate nodded. “The best.”
Matt took a breath and held on to it for a moment. The idea of Bryce actually following through and hiring someone else shook him more than he thought it would.
“I’m sure he’s awesome. I just don’t know if this is the right move for Bryce to make.” He gave a harsh laugh and downed the rest of his drink. “Leave it to me to move my brother to the only small town in the world with a famous damn sports agent living in it. I’m really making stellar choices these days.”
Nate clapped him on the back as they all headed to the door.
“They weren’t all bad. You bought the only place next door to Jillie Coleman.”
He laughed with them, but he couldn’t help wondering if that was a good thing or not. How much longer could he be this close to her and stick to handholding and kisses?
Chapter Nine
Tiesha had been with Monica since the very beginning. They’d been children together in the idyllic fields of Rannabar, before the Shadows rolled down Stoneroot Mountain. Before the terror. Monica could ignore Robbie’s advice. He didn’t know her. But when Tiesha said it was time to snap out of it and fight, there was no way she could ignore that.
“One of these years I won’t put so many decorations up for Christmas, but this is not that year.” Amanda laughed as she set another box in the large hall at Halcyon, next to a towering tree.
Jillie looked up at the still-bare pine. “It’s going to take us until Christmas to get the decorations up.”
Nora peeked around the far side of the tree, a garland of tinsel draped around her shoulder. “This is the one time when my cousin out-plans even me. She’ll have it done in a week. With a little help, of course.”
Amanda put her arm around Jillie’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m so glad you’re helping us this year.”
Mel Brannigan, one of Amanda’s other cousins, carried another box over and set it on a stack. “I’m glad, too! Someone else for Amanda to boss around. How did she trap you into it?”
Jillie laughed. “I think it was that extra serving of Thanksgiving turkey that lulled me into compliance.”
It had been her second time joining the Randalls for Thanksgiving. She’d always been comfortable at Halcyon, and she knew everyone there—Blake and Amanda with their two children, Zach and Maddy. Mel with her husband, Shane, and their infant son, Patrick. Nora and Asher had been there last year, but this year they’d gone to North Carolina instead, to celebrate with another cousin and her family.
She helped the women drape pine garlands all around the house, on mantels and windowsills, tables and banisters. They set up a lovely nativity in the living room, with its windows overlooking the lake. They unboxed the tree ornaments, but set them out on tables, not on the tree. That was a task for another day, after Amanda supervised the lights being strung by workers from the resort, where holiday decorations were also going up this weekend.
While they decorated, they talked about holiday plans and what was happening in town—new businesses, new couples, kids getting into mischief, what the winter might be like. Jillie did far more listening than talking, and she knew they were fine with that. It felt good to have this little glimpse of...normal.
She didn’t like that word, but it was hard to find any other way to describe a life that other people enjoyed without thought. A life she used to know. A life she’d told herself she didn’t miss. She’d learned to cope with her agoraphobia by compromising with it, instead of fighting it. And that was fine. Except...
Jillie watched Amanda sweep her daughter Madeleine into her arms, laughing at the little girl who looked like Amanda’s miniature. Nora and Mel were tossing tinsel back and forth at each other. Mack Adams arrived, apologizing for being late, and explaining she’d been busy with her stepdaughter Chloe. They were her friends, and this was Halcyon, but still...this was a noisy, chaotic scene that, even a year ago, would have had her tense and ready to bolt. But not today.
Mack held up a bottle of expensive wine. “I bring good tidings! My holiday inventory has arrived, including this beauty. Let’s give it a taste, shall we?” Amanda brought out some glasses and they gathered on the sofa and chairs near the marble fireplace.
Nora accepted a glass from Mack. “How was your Thanksgiving? I heard the Danzer brothers were with you?”
Jillie’s head turned sharply. “They were?”
Mack nodded. “Dan felt bad that they didn’t have anywhere to go, and Chloe was with her mom and stepdad for the day, so we had Matt and Bryce join us, along with our illustrious mayor Mary and her wife, Julia, plus Darius and the twins. It was defnitely a friendsgiving meal.”
“They are really nice guys,” Mel said. “If anyone was going to open that ski lodge, I’m glad it was someone like Matt and Bryce. And my husband may end up with a new client out of the deal.”
“Oh, Dan said something about Bryce and Shane talking. Is it serious?” Mack asked, nudging Jillie’s shoulder. “If that happens, maybe Matt will stay in Gallant Lake. Wouldn’t that be nice, Jillie?”
Her face heated. “It wouldn’t affect me one way or the other.”
That drew raised eyebrows and soft laughter.
“Sure.” Amanda grinned. “Whatever you say. It’s not like you haven’t been making out with Matt Danzer for two weeks now.”
“Whoa!” Nora held up her hand. “Define making out. Are you guys doing it?”
“No,” Jillie answered. “I guess we have been taking it slow.”
“I don’t consider a few weeks as slow.” Mack sipped her wine. “It’s not a race. As long as you’re both satisfied, who cares?”
That was the problem—she w
asn’t sure if they were both satisfied. Was Matt okay with their evenings at her place, spent watching movies or listening to music by the fire, highlighted with kissing? Lots and lots of kissing. Hell, she didn’t know if she was satisfied. She just had no idea how to move forward. Would it spoil things? Would she panic? Would he be disappointed? She sat back with a sigh.
“How do I know if we’re ready to explore going further?” She looked around at her friends. “How do I know if the timing is right?”
The women looked at each other with knowing smiles. Mack answered first.
“The fact that you’re asking tells me it’s time to go exploring.”
“She’s got a point,” Mel agreed. “If you’re thinking about it, what’s stopping you?”
“You’re okay with the kissing part?” Amanda asked. Jillie nodded. “Then take it a step at a time. Some heavy petting...” She giggled. “Do they still call it petting? You know, get a little physical, but with your clothes on...”
“We’ve done that.” Jillie blushed again. “A few times.”
The past few days had felt like they’d moved to a different level. More heat. More tension as they walked that fine line between taking it slow and throwing caution to the wind. More hands exploring, over and under clothing.
“Okay, then.” Nora grinned. “Sounds like you’re ready. As far as how to get there, just lead the man upstairs to your bed. I’m pretty sure he’ll get the idea.”
“You’re saying I should initiate?” Jillie shook her head. “I am way out of practice.”
“You’ve told him about your anxiety disorder, right?” Amanda squeezed her hand when Jillie nodded. “He may be waiting for you, then. Blake was super nervous the first time we...” She looked over to where her daughter was drawing a Christmas tree on a sketch pad and dropped her voice. “Well, you know. He’d seen my night terrors, and it spooked the hell out of him. You need to figure out a way to let him know you’re ready.”
“I agree,” Mack said. “Matt may be content with the way things are, so don’t do anything you don’t want to.”
“The thing is, I think he’s as anxious to move forward as I am. We’re in the friend zone and it...works, but that’s not where we want to stay. Not where I want to stay.”
Last night they’d stood at the door before he left, wrapped up in each other’s arms, kissing each other senseless. He didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want him to go. But she didn’t know how to ask him to stay.
“I hate to drink and run—” Mack stood with a sigh “—but I have another delivery coming in this afternoon. I agree with Nora—get that man near a bed and go for it.” Her expression went soft. “He’s one of the good guys, Jillie. I like him a lot. We all do.”
“I know. I like him, too. A lot.”
All she had to do was let him know that.
* * *
Matt finished drying the dishes and tucked the towel over the oven handle. That was the deal—whoever didn’t cook cleaned up afterward. And tonight Jillie had made a chicken piccata that Matt thought put the world’s finest chefs to shame. Of course, he might be a little biased.
They’d cleared the table together, continuing the dinner debate over the merits of Star Wars vs Star Trek. Matt was a diehard Trekkie like his dad had been. But Jillie, naturally for an author, liked the epic saga of Star Wars. Even if she didn’t agree with the direction some of the films had taken, particularly with the female characters.
“Where do you want me to put this casserole dish?” He called the question out to her, not sure where she’d vanished to. Their routine was comfortable by now. Dinner, chitchat, argue about what movie to watch, sit by the fire or by the TV and cuddle together. Yup—he was officially a cuddler.
Never saw that coming.
Sometimes that was it...snuggling and a good-night kiss. Sometimes they started their kissing on the sofa and ended up laughing when neither of them paid attention to how the show ended. Sometimes it was just the two of them watching the fire, sitting on the floor together while they listened to music. Matt was a blues guy, but Jillie was pop all the way. They’d talk or, especially lately, kiss until he had to pull himself away and go home.
It was good. It was fine. He could be patient. He was a grown-ass man, for heaven’s sake. And he had no desire to be the cause of a panic attack for her. So...first base was good. Fine.
Matt tossed a bag of popcorn into the microwave, since they’d decided this was a night for old school Hollywood horror—The Hand. Where a concert pianist’s injured hand was replaced with the hand of a psychopath, and the hand was determined to keep killing. It was kitschy horror, but Jillie told him watching Saturday-afternoon horror flicks like that kept her distracted from the disaster her life often was as a kid. For her, the darkness of the old black-and-white movies was a safe place emotionally. It was her escape.
She joined him in the kitchen, Sophie at her heels. That explained where she’d been. The dog must have needed a nature call. When he turned around, juggling the hot bag of popcorn in his hands, she handed him a bowl, then turned away, suddenly pensive.
“Hey...” He poured out the steaming popcorn, then reached for her hand. “You okay? Would you rather watch a space flick tonight? You know, to prove your point about story arcs in outer space?”
Her mouth lifted a fraction on one side. Her cheeks flushed. “Actually, I thought we’d...um...try something different tonight.” She took his hand, shaking her head when he reached for the popcorn bowl. “Why don’t you leave that and come with me?”
He had no clue where she was taking him until they reached the bottom of the open staircase leading up to the loft. Up to her bedroom. He pulled back when she started up the steps. Was she for real right now? Was this just a “come look at my cool room” moment? He wasn’t sure he could stand within sight of her actual bed without doing...something.
She turned when he stopped, standing one step above him, like she had that first night they’d kissed. That hint of a smile deepened into the real thing, her eyes darkening. She was sending a message he couldn’t quite believe.
“Don’t you want to come up?”
Matt couldn’t stop his huff of disbelieving laughter. “Oh, I want, all right. But, babe...”
“Don’t.” She placed her fingers on his mouth. He couldn’t help scooping them playfully in his lips as if to bite them, making her giggle. The smile grew more tremulous. “Come upstairs, Matt.” She turned and started walking up ahead of him, her hips swaying seductively. She glanced back down at him from halfway up the stairs. “Unless you don’t want to.”
Matt was torn. He had no idea if this was a smart move or a disastrous one. There was no way he wasn’t following her. The upstairs space was smaller, because it was tucked in the narrowing peak of the A-frame. It was still a spacious room, easily accommodating the king-size bed angled into one corner. From the bed, Jillie had a clear view out the sliding glass doors to a small balcony. She could also look down the mountain to Gallant Lake through the front windows.
The furnishings were sparse, with plenty of space to move around. A large oval braided rag rug, in a dozen pastel shades, anchored the setting. Jillie looked around, as if trying to see it through his eyes. Then she picked up a remote that was sitting on the dresser. She pressed a button and the blinds on the huge front windows closed.
“Show-off.”
He liked to tease about her high-tech home, but his heart rate jumped at the thought of being closed in this room with Jillie. And that bed. He was still at the top of the stairs, not trusting himself to make a move until he knew for sure what Jillie was expecting.
She walked to the bed and turned, looking surprised to see him frozen in place. She’d just led him up to her bedroom. With a bed. A bed...right there.
“Matt? Are you okay?”
His mouth opened, but he stopped before saying anyth
ing. She walked over to him.
“Do you want this?” She took his hand. Christ, he wanted this with every fiber of his being.
“Pretty much more than anything in the world.”
“So...?”
He owed her the truth. “I’m careening between get her on the bed, you idiot and slow down, you idiot.” He tugged her closer, sliding his arm around her waist. “As much as I want you, Jillie, I’m terrified of making the wrong move and...”
“And witnessing a panic attack.”
Bingo.
“Well...yeah.”
“I’m the one who led you up here. This—” she gestured toward the bed “—is my idea. If anything bad happens, it’s on me, not you.”
Matt nodded, stroking her hair with his hand. “That sounds reasonable, babe, but I’m the one who’ll have to deal with it.” He huffed out a laugh. “I’m thirty-four years old, with a gorgeous woman inviting me into her bed, and I’m nervous. Like...schoolboy virgin nervous.”
Jillie sobered. “That’s my fault. I’ve spooked you with all my stories about my phobias and panic attacks.”
She stepped away from him, moving closer to the bed. Her fingers traced the hem of her sweater, and she smiled. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. She grabbed the hem and tugged the sweater over her head, tossing it in the corner. Now she faced him in only her jeans and a pretty pink bra.
“Aw, hell, Jillie...” Matt groaned. “You’re killing me here.”
He wasn’t kidding. His chest ached and his lungs burned from the effort it was taking not to go to her. She took a step closer to the bed, patting the mattress with her hand as if to test its acceptability. Killing him.
“What’s it going to take, Matt?”
He finally moved out of his corner, walking over to where she stood by the bed. He cupped her face with his hands.
“What it’s going to take is a promise that if we do this, and you start to feel a panic attack coming, you tell me. Right away. I don’t know what to look for, so I may not notice. I need to be able to trust you to do that.”