by Daws, Amy
She sucks in a huge gulp of air because I’m pretty sure that entire monologue just broke some sort of record for most words spoken in a run-on sentence.
My gaze drops down her body, taking in her snow boots, leggings, and red wool coat. “You look great,” I reply with a shrug.
And just like that, her eyes soften, and she gets a sweet, sort of shy smile on her face. “Thanks.”
She bites her lip, and I have to look away because it makes me want to kiss it. I take her suitcase out of her hand and carry it down the steps to load into the back of my pickup.
“Is this all you have?” I ask, glancing over at her car.
“Yes, my snowsuit is crammed in my suitcase.” She looks at all the supplies. “Holy cow, you packed a lot of stuff. I should pay you for some of this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I reply, slamming the tailgate closed.
“No really, I see snacks here. I didn’t even think to pack snacks. And is that Chardonnay? That’s my favorite! I can’t stand beer. And firewood? I should pay you for this. I should pay you for all of this actually. You’re really the one helping me out here, Sam. I’m sure snowboarding lessons aren’t cheap.”
She’s spinning out again, so I place my hands on her shoulders and stare down at her for a quiet moment. When she stops fretting, I reply slowly, “Seriously, Maggie, don’t worry about it. I don’t want your money.” I just want you, my inner voice whispers like a two-timing whore.
She looks up at me, blinking in an adorably young and innocent way. It takes all my strength not to lean in and crush my lips to hers. Why is she so kissable tonight? Was it because I felt like she was flirting with me at Tire Depot earlier this week? If I knew bouncing around with my niece was a way to get girls to look at me the way Maggie is looking at me, I would have played that card a long time ago. Or maybe it was our text messages. I’m not a big texter, normally, but with the way she continually set me up to flirt right back, I just couldn’t help myself.
Jesus hell, if Maggie and I were in a different time, in a different place, with different names…she would be under me by now, crying out my name and begging me to make her come.
But this isn’t a different time or place. We aren’t different people. This is Miles’s little sister. And I’m just here to help her out for the weekend. Nothing more.
After we finish loading the truck, we head west toward Eldora Mountain Resort. The drive is quiet as we eat our cold sandwiches and I focus on the snow-covered roads. Luckily, it’s only a thirty-minute drive from my place, and my vehicle has four-wheel drive. This fresh snow will make for some epic snowboarding powder tomorrow.
When we arrive, we have to stop at the front desk of the main resort to get the keys for the ski in, ski out chalet. After another short ride up the mountain, I pull up to the back end of a small red cedar cabin that’s a good deal off the beaten path. We hop out and make our way up to the back door that’s lined with twinkle lights, and I fumble with putting the key in the lock.
“Holy heck, it’s freezing out here!” Maggie states excitedly with a kid-in-a-candy-store smile.
“Should have worn your snowsuit there, sparky,” I jest and then push the door open while flicking on the lights. I step back to follow Maggie through the doorway and down a short hallway that leads into the kitchen. It’s small and rustic with knotty wood cabinets and a granite slab island that separates the kitchen from the living area. The living room has an oversized plaid couch with a gray furry rug resting right in front of a brick fireplace.
“I’ll get a fire going,” I state, striding over to the stack of chopped wood on the built-in shelves along the wall.
Maggie continues flipping on the lights, taking in the small but cozy cabin. She turns to head down the hallway as I light the Firestarter in the hearth. When the fire is going, I hear Maggie call out my name.
I head toward her and find Maggie standing in the middle of the bedroom at the end of the hall. Looking at me sheepishly, she states, “Only one bedroom.”
“Oh.” I reach my hand up to rub the back of my neck. “I guess I never thought to ask how big the place was. It’s no problem. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No, you won’t!” Maggie replies, her eyes wide with surprise. “You’ll take the bedroom.”
“Not gonna happen.” I laugh and head back down the hall to start unloading the truck.
“Yes, it is,” Maggie chirps, following me closely through the kitchen and back out into the snowy cold. “Look at all this stuff you packed for us. You even brought me your sister’s snowboarding gear.”
“It was no big deal,” I state, grabbing some bags and heading back inside.
Maggie grabs a few and follows. “All of this is a big deal, Sam.”
I drop the bags in the kitchen and turn to head back out to the truck again, but she stands her ground in the hallway, refusing to let me pass.
“Maggie, let me through. There are still a couple of things I need to grab.”
I move to walk past her, and she presses her hands into my abs and pushes me back. “Not until you agree to take the bedroom.”
“Maggie, I’m not that kind of guy,” I reply, dropping my gaze to where her hands are still on my stomach.
She immediately rips her hands away, embarrassed to be caught touching me. “Well, I’m not that kind of girl.”
I exhale heavily. “I go camping with Miles all the time, and we sleep on the ground. Trust me, that couch is probably nicer than my bed!”
“It is not. I’ve seen your bed,” she barks, crossing her arms and staring back at me.
I step back, my brows furrowing at that response. “When did you see my bed?”
Her face goes white, her blue eyes wide and panicky. “Never mind. Just…when I was using your bathroom,” she stammers. “You won’t take my money, so you at least have to take the bed. You’re the one who raced up that silo like an Olympian, so I’m afraid I must insist.” She braces her hands on the hallway. It’s so cute that she thinks she can form an immovable barrier between me and the rest of our gear outside.
I prop my hands on my hips as I try to stare her into silent submission.
It doesn’t work.
“You know I can pick you up and move you, right? I’ve done it before.”
Her eyes narrow in challenge. “But you won’t.”
Oh, but I’d like to. Instead, I pull my lips into my mouth, rubbing them together in frustration before finally shaking my head. “Fine, I’ll take the bedroom.”
She squeals in victory, and her arms wrap tightly around my waist for a quick hug. I stare up at the ceiling, doing my best to ignore the fact that her celebratory hugs are making me wonder what she looks like naked.
We head back outside and unload the rest of our gear, then get to work unpacking and putting everything where it belongs. I begrudgingly plop my duffle bag on the bedroom floor and come striding out to find Maggie standing in front of the back door slider off the living room. She’s turned off all the lights in the great room to get a better view of the outdoors, so all that glows in the small space is the crackling fire inside the hearth.
I take a moment, not to check out the view of the mountains, but to appreciate the sight of Maggie with her back turned. Her long, dark hair hangs down her back, and my eyes fall to the curve of her supple ass on full display in her tight leggings. Her feet are bare and dainty looking as her toes wiggle into the gray fur rug. I have a strange desire to touch them, rub them, feel some sort of skin-on-skin contact with her again because it’s been too long since I’ve touched her lips. Her gray knit sweater hangs off one shoulder, and I reflexively lick my lips at the idea of touching them to her flesh right by her black bra strap.
Goddamn, she’s sexy. Even when she’s not even trying to be.
“Some view,” I state, stepping up beside her and shoving my hands into my pockets. Sweeping views of mountains paint the far distance, and a hot tub is nestled at the end of the property. Beyond
that are the snowy ski hills with rows of bright lights illuminating everything. The lifts are full of boarders and skiers alike, all out late enjoying the fresh powder.
“Have you skied out here before?” Maggie asks, peering over at me.
I nod. “Yes, a lot actually.”
I look over and see her shaking her head at me. “Is there anything you haven’t done?”
I chuckle and raise my eyebrows. “I’ve never sat in a hot spring, to be honest, so if we find that, it’ll be a new experience for me as well.”
Maggie’s eyes light up. “That’s right. Where is it? I only saw the hot tub out there.”
I point at a small wooden bridge to the left that disappears into the woods on the east side of the house. Dimly lit with snow-covered outdoor lanterns, it leads back into this apparent oasis. “I was reading the cabin’s note in the kitchen, and it said it’s just down that way. Totally private, I guess. We’re supposed to call security if we catch anyone else in it.”
“Awesome,” Maggie replies with a wide-eyed look of excitement. “Let’s go.”
“Now?” I ask, amazed that she’s up for it already.
“Yes, now! Let’s put on our swimsuits, pour some of that wine you packed, and go check it out!”
“Okay,” I reply, trying to hide my pleased smile from her because I can feel her staring at me. “Let’s do it.”
Moments later, I’m trying to keep my tongue in my mouth as I walk into the kitchen to find Maggie in nothing but a little black bikini. And I mean…little. If her brother caught her wearing that, he’d freak the fuck out.
She’s on her tiptoes trying to reach something on the top shelf so instead of staring at her ass and legs like a pervert, I walk over and reach above her, murmuring on top of her head. “What are you wanting?”
She inhales sharply and falls back into me, her nearly bare body brushing up against my bare chest. I’m standing over her in just a pair of plaid board shorts, and she licks her lips as she stares unabashedly at my chest and abs.
“Maggie.” I get her attention with my hand still reaching up high. “What did you want from up here?”
“Oh!” she exclaims and closes her slack jaw. “The stemless wineglasses up there.”
I pull them down and hand them over to her, enjoying the fact she still hasn’t looked at my face once. “Here you go,” I state, and finally, she looks up at me with flushed cheeks, biting that lip like it’s her last meal.
“Thanks,” she replies and turns to open the bottle of white wine I brought with the corkscrew opener she must have found.
She pours two glasses and takes a big drink before handing my glass to me. She steels herself before turning around to face me with a bright, toothy smile. “Ready?”
“Always,” I reply. We slip our feet into our snow boots, grab our towels, and throw on our coats, then make our way out the back door toward the snow-covered bridge.
We’re both shivering like crazy by the time we get over the bridge. We hurriedly follow the lighted path around several trees, and off into the distance, I think I hear the sound of running water. When we finally reach our destination, I completely forget about how cold it is outside because I’m walking into another universe.
The trees suddenly part to reveal a clearing with a stunning rock garden full of large boulders all topped with big piles of powder on them while running water flows below them all around. Pillars with glowing lanterns illuminate the jagged terrain for us. I catch a glimpse of the running waterfall nearby that has frozen edges with steam billowing up in the middle. Off to the side, a few more lights are positioned around an outline of a large rock bowl that runs off over the top into the shallower area.
Maggie and I make our way over there, both of us stunned into silence as we look inside and admire the steaming crystal clear water.
“This is insane,” Maggie states softly, bending over and dipping her hand into the water. “It’s actually hot.”
I chuckle at that comment but can’t really fault her for being shocked. I’m amazed myself. “It’s a crazy anomaly of nature for sure.”
“Let’s get in!” she replies excitedly as she hands me her wineglass and quickly yanks off her coat and boots. I have no choice but to watch every part of her stunning body as she gingerly steps into the water. “Holy heck, it’s super hot!”
She squeals as she sinks down into the knee-high water, stretching her legs out in front of her so the water laps up around her breasts. When she finds a comfortable place on the rocky bottom, she reaches out for the wineglasses next. I hand them over and repeat her actions, feeling her eyes on me the entire time as I step in and sink down into the steaming water. It feels fucking life changing.
Maggie hands me my glass and beams over at me. “Incredible, right?”
I look around at the snow falling off the trees in the distance and relish in the sound of the waterfall nearby. It’s all fucking magical, and I’m not a guy who uses the word magical to describe things, but hell if it doesn’t fit. “This is maybe the best thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.”
Maggie’s smile turns affectionate as she’s clearly touched by that remark. She lifts her glass to mine. “I’m happy to be experiencing it with you then, Sam.”
We clink our glasses together and both take a drink, the cool white wine warming my throat as the hot spring warms all my other parts. Maggie’s sparkling blue eyes glow in the dim lanterns, and I can’t help but think this has to be one of the most bizarre situations I’ve ever found myself in. A couple of weeks ago, I was hyper-focused on Tire Depot and working with my uncle on my new business plans. Now, I’m in a hot spring with a beautiful woman I cannot touch.
Life is perfectly imperfect sometimes.
“What are your future plans, Sam?”
“Besides taking over Tire Depot?” I ask, taking a sip of my drink. “That’s pretty much it.”
“Do you have any goals with the business?”
“Yes, definitely. I have hopes to expand the shop with your brother to include classic car restoration. Miles is crazy talented with classics.”
“Oh my god, that would be his dream job,” Maggie states with wide eyes. “He and my grandpa were always talking cars.”
I nod and smile. “Yeah, I’ve seen your grandpa’s truck. It’s a thing of beauty. It makes sense that Miles got it when he passed away.”
Maggie smiles and waves her hands in the water. “They were really close. Miles would do anything for Grandpa.”
I nod thoughtfully. “I’m close with my mom like that. If I can make Tire Depot into all that I think it could be, I hope to be able to pay off the rest of her mortgage so she can retire early. Anything to get her off those hospital floors. She’s a great nurse, but she works too hard.”
Maggie’s eyes are wide and challenging as she says, “You are a total momma’s boy.”
“No, I’m not,” I reply with a sheepish smile and then instantly want to change the focus off me. “So where are you at with your career aspirations?”
She purses her lips together and shrugs. “I guess I’m currently a drifter until things change.”
My brows lift knowingly “You mean until you marry an NFL quarterback.”
“I’m not marrying him for his money,” she snaps and flicks a bit of water at my chest while mumbling under her breath, “Technically, I’m not marrying him at all at this point.”
“But that’s the end goal, right?” I ask, tilting my head to watch her reaction carefully. “That’s what you’re working so hard for?”
She shrugs and nods, seemingly ashamed by her response.
I turn and prop my elbow on the rock so I can face her, then ask her the question that’s been niggling at me for a while now. “What’s the appeal of your ex anyway? Tell me about him.”
Maggie slips down into the water farther, sipping her wine and resting her head back on a rock. She takes a deep breath before replying. “Well, he’s tall, dark, and handsome…th
at doesn’t hurt. He’s talented and extremely passionate about what he does.”
“Which is football?”
“Yes, football,” she replies with an annoyed frown. “Aren’t you passionate about what you do?”
“Am I passionate about tires?” I respond with a laugh. “No, Maggie. I’m not passionate about tires.”
“Well, then what are you passionate about?” she asks, taking another sip of wine.
“People,” I reply simply, the answer rolling off my tongue like a reflex. “I care about the people in my life…my family, my friends, my employees…especially my employees. I mean, I genuinely like knowing what’s going on with their families. I want them to know that their home lives are bigger than the bottom line and being their boss isn’t about making more money than them. It’s about being the support system they need to not only survive but to also be happy. That’s what I’m passionate about. Tires are just what brings it all together.”
Maggie stares back at me, clearly startled by my long-winded answer, but her brows furrow as she churns something over in her mind.
“Why do you have that look on your face?” I ask, staring at her curiously.
Maggie gazes back at me with wide, wondering eyes. Her voice is quiet in the dark as she responds. “You’re passionate about people but not long-term relationships?”
My head pulls back, this question catching me completely off guard. “What makes you say I’m not passionate about relationships?”
“Kate,” Maggie answers with a small shrug of her shoulders.
I inhale and exhale slowly, feeling annoyed that things are being said to Maggie about me behind my back. Not that I blame Kate—she’s only relaying the truth—but I guess I’d rather Maggie hear it from me.