Chest heaving, Chris silently studied her, waiting and wondering why she’d suddenly put on the brakes.
“I thought you were going to show me around,” she said with a nervous sounding laugh. “We’ll never make it out of the hotel room at this rate.”
“I did. You’re absolutely right.” She was getting skittish again. Frustrated, Chris’ body vibrated with desire like a tuning fork. He wanted her so badly, but he’d known upfront nothing would be easy with her. He’d lose his chance if he pushed her too hard. “Why don’t we go see the view from the top of Whistler Mountain?”
“That sounds great. Can you give me a minute to get freshened up?”
“Sure, babe. Take all the time you need.”
Chris worked on some deep breathing exercises for a long while after she closed the connecting door between them.
When Sara came back in, he was laying on the bed, flipping through the channels. His gaze traveled the length of her. She looked incredible in her black ski pants and the tight hot pink and black Henley.
She raised a brow. “I’m ready if you are.”
He couldn’t resist the set up. “I was ready fifteen minutes ago, babe.”
“I’m sorry Chris. Too fast for me. You told me…”
“I did.” He stood and crossed the room. “And I meant what I said. You’re just so damn sexy.” He shrugged. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.” He brought her hand to his lips in apology.
Sara felt her heart melt as he softly kissed her hand and gazed up at her through his long eyelashes with those chocolate eyes of his. Plain old Chris was difficult to resist, playful puppy dog Chris was impossible.
“Anyway, I was just teasing, Sara,” he said in a deep rumbling voice, releasing her hand. He was at the door in a couple of quick, easy strides. “You set the pace. Agreed. I’ve got no problem with that.”
Following him out, she noticed that he’d changed as well. The ski pants he wore hugged his lower body, leaving little to the imagination. Nice. His legs were lean and muscular, all the way up to his glutes. She gulped. Taking things slow with him was not going to be easy.
A quick stroll through the cobblestone streets of the ski village brought them to the base of Whistler Mountain. They waited in a short line to buy their lift tickets.
“Woman,” he told her, wiggling his eyebrows, “you won’t be able to stare at my ass like that on the slopes.”
Busted, she thought.
“It’s distracting and I need to focus,” he put his hands on either side of his face, “when I ski. Tunnel vision. You wouldn’t want me to get injured, would you?”
“No, definitely not, breaking a hip at your age would be extremely dangerous,” she quipped as they stepped into the open doors of the gondola. Sara held her breath as it lifted off the ground and began gliding over the snow trimmed tree tops. “Shit.” She turned her face into Chris’ jacket and clutched his shoulders.
“What’s wrong?”
Her voice was muffled against his jacket and her legs trembled. “I think I’m afraid of heights.”
He suppressed a smile. Well, crap. There was no going back now. “How did you think we were going to get to the top?”
“I don’t know. Hadn’t really thought about it,” she said softly.
“Sorry, Sara.” He pulled her closer and began rubbing her back. “I didn’t know.”
“Me either, obviously.” She let out a shuddering sigh. “It’s alright. Just keep doing that.”
“I can do better.” Chris removed his gloves and slid his hands underneath her shirt. Her skin felt like warm silk as he ran the pads of his fingers in a slow massaging pattern from her shoulder blades all the way down to the indentation in her lower back, where he lingered.
“Mmm. That feels fantastic.”
“It sure does,” he murmured, pressing gently to draw her closer.
By the time, the gondola pulled into the top, Sara seemed to have completely forgotten her initial panic. Chris too had become lost in the luxurious warmth of her beneath his eager hands. Even through his ski jacket, he could feel the soft curve of her breasts pressed against him. It was driving him insane.
The lift operator cleared his throat to get their attention. Startled, Chris retracted his hands, stepped aside, and gestured for her to precede him off the gondola.
Sara stepped off the lift without looking down. After they both stood safely on the platform, Chris grabbed for her hand and laced his fingers into hers. “You ok, now?” he asked, squeezing.
“Yes.” She smiled at him. “I don’t mind being up high if I’m on solid ground. It’s the hanging from a cable twenty feet up in the air that bothers me.” She shook her head, peering around nervously. “But how am I ever going to get back down?”
“No worries, I have a plan. Let me show you around the top. Then you can get a cup of hot chocolate here in the roundhouse and stay warm while I ski down. When I get back up, we’ll eat a nice dinner, and then I’ll distract you again with my magic mitts on the ride back down. Deal?”
“Deal.” She nodded.
When they came to the glass doors on the opposite side of the building, Chris pushed one open for her. “You’re gonna love the view from this back deck,” he said as they walked down the steel-mesh stairs onto a stone patio. A line of tall poles sported red and white Canadian flags that were snapping in the frigid wind.
Sara turned around in a slow circle taking in the awe inspiring view. Majestic snowcapped mountains encircled them, their peaks sparkling in the brilliant sunlight. Another gondola crossed a dizzying span to the nearest neighbor, Blackcomb. Hesitantly she tiptoed closer to the walled edge holding on to Chris’ hand as her anchor. A serpentine fog cloud snaked through the valley below. The ski village looked tiny, unreal, like a child’s diorama, from their vantage point. She turned back to Chris, grey eyes wide with wonder. “Wow. When the gods get tired of Olympus, they could do worse.”
“I know.” He brushed her lips with a cold kiss and tucked loose strands of her hair back underneath her cap. He stared into her eyes for a long moment before tapping her on her red nose. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Take your time.” She smiled sneaking another glance at his backside as he walked away. “Go and ski. I’ve got a kindle app on my phone. I’ll just read and enjoy the scenery.”
In the sitting room at the B&B, Sam perched on the red plaid camel back sofa smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles on her dress as she waited for JR to pick her up. She felt completely alone in a sea of doubt. Sara’s misgivings about JR were like a whirlpool that her own thoughts circled endlessly around. Tabloid photos splashed across her mind. Insecurity rose up like a rogue wave.
And then he was there, throwing her a lifeline with his pearly smile and lifting her up and out of those troubled waters with a tender kiss.
“Hey baby.”
JR took her breath away tonight. He was tall and rakishly handsome with that closely cropped beard and mustache. His sun streaked locks were judiciously gelled. He’d foregone his usual Diesels for some obviously custom cut form fitting black slacks with a coordinating silk button-down open at the neck.
“Hey,” she echoed, chiding herself for worrying. Just looking into his eyes convinced her that he was true. That Sara and the tabloids had it all wrong. Her heart was safe. She was just being paranoid.
“Did you finish your errand this afternoon?” He had been very mysterious about the whole thing and when she’d pressed him before, he had refused to elaborate.
“Yeah,” he said, offhandedly, his gaze traveling the length of her. The little black dress she had chosen covered her arms but barely reached mid-thigh. It hugged her curves, leaving little to the imagination. He frowned. “I wish I had you all to myself tonight, but Mom’s anxious to meet you.”
“It’s ok, John. I want to meet her, too.”
He grabbed her wool coat off the back of the couch. “Cover up,” he told her, holding it up for her to slip into. “It�
�s cold out there.”
The jitters were back by the time they arrived at Mad Chef Café, silver and black themed like an old fashioned fifties diner, on the outskirts of town. Keith and JR’s mom already had a table and rose to greet them as they approached.
“Glad to finally meet you, Sam,” said the tall elegant woman, extending her hand.
Sam knew she was in her mid-fifties, but with her stylishly cut and highlighted blond hair and immaculate complexion along with the same megawatt smile as JR she could have passed for someone ten years younger. Well now she knew where JR got his good looks. “Good to meet you, too, Dr. Raymond,” Sam said nervously.
“Diane. I insist. You’re all my son talks about lately. Now I see what the fuss was all about. She’s precious, John.”
They all sat back down. The conversation and the wine flowed. In fact before she realized it, Sam was finishing a second glass of Chardonnay. It helped her relax a bit. Diane seemed genuinely interested in her and peppered her relentlessly about her educational and career goals. Sam handled the questions all with aplomb.
All the while, JR played the perfect gentleman. He was unabashedly affectionate and attentive and clearly pleased that she and his mother seemed to have developed such a quick rapport. She did wish that he would quit topping off her wine glass. She wasn’t use to drinking like this.
After she and JR shared a chocolate bomb, the restaurant’s signature dessert, Dr. Raymond rose to make her apologies. “Big day of cataract surgeries for tomorrow. Sixteen, I think, and a seven AM start. She’s a keeper, John,” she said, smiling warmly before she left.
They made plans to meet Keith at the Bridge Lounge in downtown. On the way over, JR remarked, “I think she really likes you, Sam.”
Sam blushed. “I like her too. She reminds me of you.”
JR’s white teeth flashed in the darkness. He reached out and interlaced his fingers in hers. “I have something really important that I want to talk to you about tomorrow.”
Registering the seriousness in his tone, doubt began to creep back into her mind. What if he’s found someone else? Was the mystery errand another woman? Was he already tired of her and ready to move on? But then why had he taken her to meet his mom? “Why don’t we just talk about it now?” she asked, insecurity making her stomach churn.
“It can wait,” he assured her. As if he could read her thoughts, he leaned over and trailed feather light kisses from her cheek to her neck, erasing the tension from her. “Besides we’re already here.”
The large nightclub with one entire wall composed of glass panels like a greenhouse afforded a prime view of the Puntledge River and bridge. It was always a popular spot, and tonight was no exception. JR frowned when he realized that Danny was making his way through the press along with Keith. He guessed that he should have expected it, and grudgingly admitted that he might have overreacted the other day. Still, Danny had always been a little off in his opinion, and he wasn’t looking forward to playing nice with the guy. He ordered a beer and a wine spritzer for Sam. They all sat at the bar, sipping their drinks and making small talk.
By the time JR pulled her out onto the crowded dance floor, Sam had nearly finished her third drink and was feeling a little giddy. JR was an incredible dancer. His long rangy body moved instinctively under the pulsating house lights in time with the heavy techno tempo.
“I should have known you’d have good rhythm,” she shouted to him over the noise.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he told her with a sexy smirk.
Finally, a slow song began to play and JR pulled her in close, resting his hands on her hips. Slowly, sensually they swayed together. The feel of his hard body against hers sent shivers down her spine. His desire was evident in his gaze and whether it was that or the wine, her mood was euphoric.
After the slow song, Keith cut in. “You need to share.”
“Ok,” JR scowled. “But no slow dancing,” he chided before threading his way back to the bar through the bouncing crowd.
Danny came and stood beside him and ordered a tequila shot. “I’d be pretty possessive, too, if I had a girl like her,” he eventually commented.
JR nodded and nursed his beer, trying to keep his cool.
“I guess since you and Keith have been friends for so long you’re ok with him being all chummy with Sam.”
JR gave Danny a narrow glance. The guy didn’t seem to know when to quit.
Danny smirked. “Still, she doesn’t really seem like the fooling around type.” He threw back his drink and wiped his hand across his mouth. “You probably don’t have anything to worry about.”
JR gave him the silent treatment. After an awkward interval, Danny told him that he was going to turn in early and disappeared into the crowd.
When the song ended, Sam realized that she really had overdone it with the alcohol. The euphoria had faded and been replaced by plain ole dizziness mixed with an unpleasant dose of queasy. She excused herself and headed to the ladies room to splash a little cold water on her face. As soon as she came back out, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
It was Danny.
“Listen,” he said. “I was wondering, would you mind if we switched rooms at the B&B? I think there’s been a cat in mine and I’m deathly allergic.”
“Sure.” She nodded though feeling less than certain. “If you think it will help?”
“Oh, it will. I’m sure. Thanks, Sam,” he told her before he headed out of the club.
Sara dipped her spoon into the crème brulee. Bringing it to her mouth, she closed her eyes, savoring the silky custard. When she opened them, Chris was watching her, the candlelight reflected in his brown eyes. She was in deep trouble where he was concerned. He was charming as well as man candy handsome. He’d kept her entertained throughout the meal with amusing stories from his glory days.
“Hey, speaking of the old days,” she said with amusement lightening her voice. “I’ve been wanting to show you something.” Sliding her fingers around the screen of her smart phone, she spun it around so he could see the picture she’d brought up. “I wondered if you remembered this.”
Chris glanced at it and rolled his eyes. “Lovely,” he said drolly. “Where the hell did you find that monstrosity?”
“Oh, I have my ways,” she told him with a saucy wink.
“You wound me, woman.” Grimacing, he ran a finger around the rim of his brandy snifter. “I thought I’d been successful destroying all the remaining copies of that, but obviously not.” The photo had been taken at the Grammy awards in ’89, the big hairband era. He’d been at the pinnacle of his illustrious but brief career, and his hairdo had been one of the biggest.
“You look like a troll doll with hair extensions.” Sara smirked.
He raised his eyebrows.
“No I mean that in a good way.” She giggled as he growled. “Really, it’s a very sexy look.” Taking a sip of her coffee, she peered over at him, her expression thoughtful. “Why’d you get out of the music business, Chris?”
“After Andrea, I lost my interest in music, in performing, in all of it.” Chris ran a hand through his hair and was silent for a moment. “I wanted to take my life in a different direction so I went back to school. Got my GED and then a business degree.”
“I didn’t know that.” She tilted her head back. “A college degree, that’s a really big accomplishment.”
“It’s been a good thing to have. It’s helped me a lot in the classic car business, and it even helped me understand most of the contract I signed when Mary talked me into giving the musical thing another go.” His gaze settled on her face. “Since we seem to be doing all this reminiscing, why don’t you tell me how you got started in the business? Were you really only eighteen?”
“Yes. A musical career wasn’t even on my radar,” she explained, shivering when he turned her hand over and began tracing his finger lightly over her palm. “I was barrel riding at the time.”
“What?” His brow rose.
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“You know, Rock ‘N Roll Boy, a timed rodeo event where you compete by riding a horse around barrels?”
“I know what it is, Sara.” He leaned back, arms folded across his chest. “I just find it hard to picture you doing something like that.”
She straightened her shoulders. “I was pretty good.”
“I don’t doubt that. I imagine you’re pretty good at whatever you set your mind to do,” he said, staring at her lips.
She took a sip of water, suddenly feeling a little overheated.
“So what happened?” he asked quietly. “How’d you go from that to singing?”
“A friend of mine was supposed to sing the national anthem at the rodeo I was competing in. She got sick with the flu. I stood in for her. A record producer heard me and offered me a deal, and that was that.”
“Plus a lot of hard work,” he added with a nod. “And a lot of guts and determination. What you’ve accomplished Sara, it’s pretty incredible.”
“Thanks.” She flushed at the compliment while he signed the check.
He looked up, eyes locking with hers for a moment, anticipation arcing between them. “You ready for the trip back down?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she said gamely as he escorted her from the table, his hand on the small of her back.
Light and flirty Sara reminded herself as they stood on the platform waiting for the gondola. Chris could quickly and easily get into her heart given a chance. That wasn’t acceptable. Sara Daniels didn’t do relationships. She didn’t get emotionally involved. No way would she allow a man to have that kind of power over her again.
Chris held her even closer on the return trip. Truthfully, it wasn’t as bad going down as it had been going up. It was so dark, she couldn’t even see the ground, but she didn’t mention that. Chris’ warm brandy scented breath against her cheek combined with the gentle stroking he was doing with his calloused finger tips against her skin was so effing hot it was making her toes curl. Desire hummed through her veins, hitting a crescendo each time his hand passed over her bra clasp. Heaven help her, she’d made a decision to take this to the next level with him. Hopefully that would end the infatuation.
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