Why can’t I let it be that easy? I rub my hand over the knot in my stomach and try to ease the wariness.
Determined to make the best of my situation, I walk out of the bathroom and look at the pile of clothes I laid out the night before. Nope, that turtleneck won’t do. I want to look sexy for Kaleb. The bureau drawer scrapes as I pull it open to put the plain black nylon shirt away. I pull out my tighter blue zip-neck instead. I know it shows off my small, curvy figure. Except it makes me remember.
Sweat beads on my forehead as I struggle to get into the blue leotard. I’m upset because it’s too small and will flatten what little breasts I’ve just developed. I want to look like the other girls. Pretty. But I can’t say anything. I pull hard in frustration and hear a tearing sound. I’ve ripped out the side. Oh God. My stomach clenches, and if I had eaten, I would probably throw up. What am I going to do? He’s going to be so mad…
I pace my tiny room and talk myself down from the panic attack surging in my veins. I throw the blue turtleneck toward the corner of my room, and grab a tight red one instead. It will look good with my hair. And I particularly like it because it’s a color I was never allowed to wear. Vengeance forms a smile on face when I look at my curvy body in the mirror. That’s better. I swagger to the kitchen with a smile.
Because my days here are so physical, I need a protein-packed breakfast to maintain energy. I take out my beloved cast-iron skillet and set it on the stove with a resonating clang. It’s not the least bit practical with its clunky weight and a handle that heats up right along with the pan. But it was my grandmother’s, and cooking in it brings back fond memories of my childhood. A good piece of my past I cling to—something that’s been scarce in my life.
I slice butter from the stick and drop it into the pan with a light thunk. While it melts, I grab two eggs and whip them up in a small bowl. The butter sizzles, and I pour them in.
The sun streaks in through the window and reaches for me. I sit at my kitchen counter to eat and look outside. I can’t see the mountains, but I know they glisten in the blue sky. The snow on the pine trees tells me we got quite a bit last night. My thoughts turn to skiing powder, and to Kaleb. I wiggle my toes in anticipation.
I want to squeal to somebody about how great my day will be. But there isn’t anybody to tell. Maybe I should get a cat. Or, better yet, some friends. A grin covers my face because I now have the freedom to act like a normal twenty-one-year-old.
I pull into the employee parking lot and wonder if Kaleb’s here yet. I realize I don’t know which car he drives, and can’t look for it to answer my question. I grab my bag and get out of my truck. The air is crisp on my face. Excitement pulses through my veins as I mentally prepare myself for the physical challenge ahead.
A couple of instructors walk toward the locker room, and an older guy holds the door open for me when we get there. He gives me a kind smile. “Catching first chair?”
“I sure am. Thanks.” I walk through the door and the warm air envelops me.
“Looks like three feet. It never gets old. I still wake up excited on a powder day.” He turns down the first aisle. “Enjoy!”
“You too.”
The locker room buzzes with excitement. Occasional shouts rise above the din. My locker door reverberates when I open it quickly. I try to get ready in a hurry so I don’t make Kaleb wait. I am about to slip on my jacket as he comes around the corner.
“Ready for this?” He looks as excited as I am, and I notice his eyes give me a quick once-over as I reach my arm back to put on my jacket. The red shirt was a good choice.
“Almost.” I zip up my parka. “Okay. Show me how it’s done.”
“With pleasure.” His tone is suggestive, and I immediately look at his lips. Very kissable.
In the back of the locker room, skis and boards stand in wooden racks. We each grab our skis and head out the door. A metal stairway leads us up to a landing area below the beginner trail we use for teaching. The stairs twang heavily as we climb, and I notice Casey, Nick, Megan, and Jason skate over to the chair. It’s loading, and Kaleb and I quickly click into our skis. Pushing off with one foot, I begin to skate over to the line. The energy of the locker room has migrated out here, and people horse around. I see a snowball fly and hear good-natured profanity in return.
“Hey, wait up.” Kaleb grins. “Anxious?”
I slow down. “The chair’s moving, and I thought you would be in a hurry and—” I stop and force myself to breathe. “Yeah, I’m a little excited. And very nervous.”
Kaleb skis up beside me. “It’s okay. I think it’s cute.” He slows down as we get to the line, where the noise of the chairlift engine is louder.
Casey looks our way, and I give her a wave. Kaleb’s parted lips make me pause before I ask, “Think we can get two runs in?” I hope I don’t spend most of my time falling and dealing with the aftermath of shaking off snow, retrieving equipment, and putting on gear.
“That sounds about right. I’ve seen you ski; you’ll catch on quickly. You have good balance and placement on your skis. That’s what’s most important.” We slide out to the ramp and sit down on the approaching chair.
It’s just the two of us, but Kaleb places himself so our bodies touch. I don’t mind. I reach to pull the bar down and say, “I know it’s cool and all to keep the bar up, but it makes me nervous.”
“You’re afraid of heights?” He pulls his goggles down and his expression is hidden.
“Kind of.” I pull my own goggles down so he can’t see my face either.
“You won’t like E chair. Especially if you look down.” Our chair sways lightly in the wind.
“I can ride without the bar. I try not to look down unless I have one in front of me. For the most part I’m good. But let’s not talk about it, okay?” I let out a nervous giggle.
Kaleb puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me a little closer in a half hug. “I’m happy to keep you safe.” Oh my goodness, he’s flirting with me in a big way. My height of five feet seems tiny next to him, and I feel protected.
His arm drops to the back of the chair and he says, “So to ski powder, you need to think about staying balanced. You’ll be jolted every which way, and your goal is to keep getting back to your center.”
I nod. “Okay, I’ve been working on that.”
He lifts his goggles to look at me. “Your skis will have pressure on the top and sides as well as the bottom.” He talks with his hands mimicking skis. “In snow this deep, you’ll also have the resistance of your legs to slow you down. I’ll take you someplace you’d usually find steep. It won’t feel that way today.”
I tense and Kaleb notices. He reaches over to touch my arm. His eyes reflect the sky, and I have trouble concentrating. “Try to make shallow turns that are driven by your foot steering and not carving.”
“Okay. So try to stay on my arches and make light, sliding turns. Right?” I set my focus on what he said instead of what I want to do to his body.
“That’s it.” He pulls his goggles back down as we approach the exit ramp. “And have fun. I want to hear a ‘Yahoo!’”
I smile. I’ll probably yell Oh crap! “I’ll try.”
We push off the chair and, while moving, put our pole straps on. He takes me to Mayday, which is the steep trail I first took in training. Snow covers my skis and makes my movement look impossible. Mounds of white powder cover the trees, but without the weight of moisture, like back East, they stand strong. We stop at the top of the steep trail, and I try to imagine how shallow turns will work. The scary sensation of moving too fast is still fresh in my mind.
Kaleb gives me a nod and heads down. Snow blasts around him as he links a few small turns to leave a snake-like track. I push off to follow and immediately notice the lack of speed. He was right. This doesn’t seem steep at all. Snow presses against my legs, and a fine mist sprays my face. I focus on tiny turns, and my body moves up and down as I unweight to make my turn and then apply pressure at the
end of it. This is amazing!
Kaleb stops when the steep pitch levels out. I pull up below him. “Wow! That was… wow.” Eloquent, I’m not. My grin reaches my ears.
“You handled it beautifully. Try to keep that feeling. It’s easy to want to lean back, and you’ll get moving too fast. Make lots of quick turns instead of going sideways if you need to slow down.” He leads me to a narrow side trail with a consistent pitch.
The trail is pristine, and we’ll be the first tracks. “I know this is such a newbie thing to say, but I can’t wait to look back at our tracks.”
Kaleb snorts. “I always look back. I like to impress myself.”
I chuckle at him. “So humble. Okay, let’s do this.” I push off and try to repeat what I did before. I fall back a bit and gain speed. As I tighten my stomach and yank myself forward, a ski gets away from me. When I pull my leg back toward my body it catches, and down I go, headfirst. Damn it! It doesn’t hurt, but snow covers my face. I pull off my goggles and wipe them clean with my glove. When I stand up and slap the snow off my body, Kaleb comes to me with my lost ski.
“Nice. Be ready for more. It’s all good, though. It means you’re trying.” He hands me the ski.
I set it down and lift my leg to click my foot in. Because my other ski has sunken down lower with my weight, it’s not easy to do. Each time I try, the loose ski gets pushed down and covered in snow. Frustration brings tears to my eyes. “I can’t even get my ski on.” I throw a pole down in the snow. But the moment I do fear grips my body. I brace myself out of habit for the fallout.
“Here, let me help.” Kaleb’s voice is calm, and he gets down on his knees to hold my ski on the surface. Whoa. I take a deep breath, and oxygen loosens my muscles. When I push to click, he pushes back.
“Thanks.” God, I hope he didn’t notice my reaction.
“No problem. If you get stuck like this on your own, lay down your ski poles, perpendicular, under the front and the back of the ski. They’ll help keep it on top of the snow so you can apply pressure.
“Got it. I’m ready.” Not really, but he’s being so nice it makes me want to try.
“That’s my girl. Let’s go.”
That’s my girl? My frustration drifts away. Wow. I follow Kaleb down the trail.
Another run and a dozen falls later, we have to go to work. “I can’t even begin to thank you enough for today.” I take my skis off to walk over to the Kids’ Castle. My turtleneck is damp and stuck to my underarms. I catch a whiff of my deodorant and hope that’s all he smells, too.
“I’m sorry I was so impatient. You were nothing but nice to me. My little temper tantrum was because I feel so inadequate,” I say. “I can’t help but wonder how I got this job.”
Kaleb still has his skis on so he can glide over to adult lineup. He slides up close to me. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up. You caught on quickly. I still can’t believe you’ve only been skiing for two years,” he says. “Seriously.” He leans over his poles so his face is level with mine. We’re inches apart, and my breath catches in my throat. His low voice rumbles softly. “Being nice to you is easy. I’m dying to get you on a board, or skates.”
“Skates?” Excitement and heat course through my veins.
“Yeah, I played hockey in college. I miss the ice. There’s a great rink at the rec center. Maybe we could go some night I don’t work?”
I miss the ice, too. Except…
Except he’s in rehab and I have nothing to fear. It would be nice to skate again, but not the way I used to. I’ll wear jeans and a cute fleece. And add a hunky guy and hot chocolate, too? A smile creeps over my face. “I’d like that.”
“I’m free Thursday,” he says.
“I didn’t bring my skates. I’ll have to get my mom to mail them to me. How about next week?” Only, I don’t want to wait that long to spend time with him again.
His smile disappears and he rises up. “Sure.”
Oh, no. He doesn’t think I’m interested. I can’t have that. His disappointment makes me brave. “Since we can’t skate Thursday, want to do something else? Casey told me the food’s super yummy at the Baked Bean.” Oh my God! I just asked him out.
His face lights up. “I’ll text—” He shakes his head. “I’ll wait for you after work on Thursday.” He pauses. “It must be strange not having a phone.”
“It’s only strange for other people. I’ve never had one and don’t know what I’m missing.” Well, unless you count my panic phone.
“Oh, the things I can teach you.” He winks and turns to ski away.
My insides tingle. Oh, the things I want to learn. I float toward the Kids’ Castle as my mind fantasizes about Kaleb Wakefield.
Chapter Six
Thursday was two long days away. Training yesterday and today left me with only brief sightings of Kaleb. But each time we caught each other’s eye, heat flushed through my body. Those dimples of his should be illegal.
Kaleb’s warm, ungloved hand reaches for my mitten-covered one as we make our way down the sidewalk, and I marvel at the way it completely encases mine. “Don’t you ever wear gloves?”
He grins. “My hands never get cold. Usually they’re sweating. I wear spring gloves on the coldest days.”
“I wish that were my problem. Must be nice.” The late afternoon temperature makes me shiver. After a long day outside, I’m hungry and cold.
Kaleb drops my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulder, bringing me in close to his body. I melt into him when he says, “Hey, we’ll warm you up in a minute.” He points. “It’s right over there.”
A log building with a large window is ahead. Fogged up around the edges, I imagine that steamy lattes keep the usually dry mountain air moist inside the Baked Bean. When we step inside the door a myriad of smells hits my nose. My stomach isn’t the least bit confused, and it growls in response.
“I don’t have to ask if you’re hungry.” Kaleb’s eyes dance with amusement. “The soups here are what I recommend. They’re hearty, and the big piece of bread that goes with them is homemade.”
“Perfect. That’s just what I’m in the mood for.” I look at the odd décor. I have a ’70s flashback with the split-log chairs and tables. Streamers with triangle scraps of fabric draw my eye to the ceiling. Open beam, it has a rustic quality that insists everything is organic. The interesting interior also lets my eyes wander freely and disguises my need to scope out the occupants.
I order a bowl of butternut-squash soup and honey-oat bread with hot rooibos tea while Kaleb gets chicken chili and a roast beef sandwich with water. He carries our tray to the pickup area. Garlic tints the odor of his spicy chili, but I’m tempted by the sweet, earthy smell of my soup instead.
After we pay, Kaleb walks with our steaming tray to a table in the back. It’s a cozy corner a bit tucked away, and I smile and think it looks romantic. I seat myself with my back to the wall.
“Everything smells so good in here. I see why Casey likes it.” I lift a spoonful of soup to my mouth and blow on it.
“She likes it here for the desserts.” Kaleb takes a big bite of his sandwich.
A vision of Jason watching Casey floods my mind, and I wonder if Kaleb is attracted to her, too. “Do you two know each other well?” I put the spoon in my mouth, and onion-infused squash coats my tongue.
He takes a swallow of his water. “I used to see a lot of her when she dated my friend Blaine. She spent hours with us hanging out at the Bike Shop.
“Blaine?” The tint of green in my psyche fades. I break off a chunk of my bread and spread butter on it.
“He was an instructor at Peak 8 with us. He moved back to California last summer.”
“I heard today that one of the supervisors died in an avalanche last year. That sounds awful.” Buttery goodness fills my mouth, and I resist the urge to moan in pleasure.
“It was. He was the head of kids’ ski school. Casey lives in his old house. He was married with two children. His wife and kids moved to Arizo
na, I think.”
“Do you ever snowboard places that could have an avalanche?” I sip soup off my spoon.
“Sure. But, I’m smart about it.”
“I would think the head of kids’ ski school would have been smart about it too. What happened?” Deep-berry-colored water splashes into my mug as I pour tea.
Kaleb hunches his shoulders as he finishes chewing. “I don’t know. I guess we aren’t really that safe, after all.”
He looks a little disturbed, and I kick myself for my careless comment. I decide it’s time to change to a lighter subject. “So what’s it like here in the summer?”
“Quiet. But nice. Town isn’t as busy, and people spend a lot of time outdoors like they do in the winter.” He’s noticed I’m done eating. “Are you going to eat that?” He points to the rest of my bread.
“No, go ahead.” I pick up my mug and wrap my hands around it to savor the warmth that spreads to my fingers.
“Do you plan to stay through the summer?” His eyes look hopeful.
“I haven’t thought that far ahead. Are jobs hard to find?” He’s thinking about summer already?
He nods. “They can be. But we could find you something. I’m sure of it.”
My stomach flutters at his kindness. And my head imagines him in shorts and no shirt. I’m staying now. “Then maybe I will.”
“I’m still hungry. If I get dessert do you want one?” Kaleb puts our dishes on the tray and I help.
“I’m not sure I could eat a whole dessert—they look huge. But if you could find it in your heart to let me have a bite I would be grateful.” I bat my eyelashes at him in a blatant flirt.
He snorts. “Trust me, I didn’t expect to get dessert and not share it with you. I’m smarter than I look.”
He walks off with the tray, and I watch. His shoulders are broad and taper to a narrow waist. My eyes are drawn to his tight, round butt in jeans. Yup, he’s definitely hot.
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7) Page 141