Читать книгу Something to Prove - Cathryn Parry - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Amanda stood outside the rental shop by the ski lift to the bunny slope. Was she nuts? When she’d come down to the lobby to meet Brody she’d been fully determined to talk him out of his crazy plan. Never in a million years had she intended to actually go through with it.

And now look at her. Her feet were encased in boots as heavy as Frankenstein’s clunkers, and the skis made a hollow pinging sound when she stomped on them.

At least Brody had promised they wouldn’t tackle the difficult black diamond slopes. Her knees were shaking. Her hands were sweating inside her gloves, and she’d already dropped her ski poles twice. She was reminded why her ski-coach father had disgustedly given up on her years ago.

But Brody leaned over, patiently buckling her feet into the bindings on her skis. The one sweet spot in the last twenty minutes was in watching this new side to him. As he leaned over, the muscular curve of his back was visible even beneath his black parka. He glanced up at her, his skin flushed from the cold air, his baby blues on fire, and a longing for something she couldn’t define washed over her.

“How does that feel, Manda? Are you comfortable?”

“If you call being strapped into a death contraption comfortable,” she joked.

His brow crinkled. “What happened to the New Hampshire girl who used to ski as a kid?”

“She moved to New York and discovered the subway and all-night taxi service.”

He laughed and straightened, settling his dark, bad-ass sunglasses over his eyes. “Do you ever miss the fresh air? Or does concrete and smog make you happy?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t handle it.”

He smiled and guided her up the gentle slope toward the chairlift, his hand on her elbow. His touch, even through layers of clothing, sent heat flooding through her.

She had officially lost her mind. “Uh, Brody, I wasn’t lying when I told you I don’t know how to ski anymore. Sorry.”

He gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her. “You skied before. Once you learn, it never leaves your muscle memory.”

“Then I must be the exception to the rule.” She hastened to keep up beside him. “Because the only memories I carry in my muscles are typing and the occasional yoga class.”

“You take yoga?” He gazed at her with interest.

“Yep.” She nodded proudly. “Downward dog and the warrior pose. That I can do.”

His mouth quirked. “I’d like to see that.”

“Great. Then let’s go back to the hotel and forget this skiing stuff.”

He shook his head slowly but his smile was wide. “Because you think you can’t do it anymore?”

“I know I can’t. I’m no Jeannie Jensen, you know.”

He stopped and pointed behind them. “If you can’t ski, Amanda, then what do you call that?”

She blinked behind them at the dual trail of ski tracks in their wake. They’d covered about forty yards together across the snow. She hadn’t even realized.

“You grew up in the mountains,” he said. “You don’t lose what was part of you, deep down.” He stamped his skis on the hard-packed snow. “And you can trust my professional opinion, because I’ve taught clinics with newbies in the sport. Some of them can’t go five yards without falling on their duffs. Obviously, you don’t have that problem.”

She looked behind her again. The skis had shushed beneath her seemingly of their own accord. It had felt…natural. Beside him she’d flowed, without struggling and fighting the way she usually did.

Could it really be an instinct from a long time ago that had lingered inside her without her even knowing it?

She fell into silence as Brody helped her along the last few yards, easing her between the ropes of the corral line and distracting her with his dimples.

She hated to admit that maybe he’d been right.

But then the heavy clanking of the chairlift machinery drilled into her subconscious, and ever fiber in her body seized up and resisted.

“Um, no. Just no, Brody.”

“They have chairlifts in Deanfield, Amanda. I rode them often.”

“I can’t remember the last time I went up in one of those things. Honestly.” She shook her head. “They’ve been erased from all my memories, muscle and brain.”

“Then I’ll help you remember.” He guided her to the spot where skiers were supposed to stand, waiting for the chair that would bump beneath their backsides, scooping them onto their seats for the long, cold ride up the mountain.

“I don’t think so, Brody.” It had been so long since her body knew what to do here. And she was going up the lift with the master of his sport.

“You’re doing great.” Just as the automated chair brushed against the backs of her thighs, he lifted her effortlessly onto the bench seat. She hadn’t realized she was frozen, stammering, her mouth gaping open.

He murmured into her ear. “The pain will be worth it, Manda. You’ll see.”

His warm, sexy breath sent shivers up her spine. Why did he have to have this sweet side to him, too?

And why did she have to want to be with him so much? She’d talked herself into trying on the rental skis in the first place by convincing herself that it might prove useful with some mythical future article. After all, few people could say they’d skied with the great Brody Jones.

But she was fooling herself if she thought that was really why she’d followed him out here.

She blew out her breath as he settled the chairlift bar around them. Reaching across her waist, he gathered her poles, clasping them together with his. “Hang on,” he said. “It’s an old-style lift and it’s going to swing in the wind a bit.”

She nodded, her teeth chattering, and he tucked his free arm around her, holding her securely. Despite the danger, she felt protected, even as their chair swung and dipped in the air, as though they were riding a roller coaster.

To her surprise, sensations came flooding back to her from years past, bittersweet in their memories. Feelings and images she must have hidden deep.

Riding a lift like this one with her mom and sister as a child, Jeannie in the middle seat.

“I forgot how much I liked this part,” she blurted out. “Starting at the bottom of the hill with the whole journey ahead of us.”

“Yeah, it’s the anticipation of things to come,” he agreed.

Amanda drank in the view of the valley and the church-like quiet as they rose higher, their skis skimming along above the treetops. As far as she could see, the mountain and its snowy outcroppings never ended. The line ahead was long, with dozens of empty chairs in front of them and empty chairs behind. She heard Brody’s contented sigh, his deep intake of the clean, cold air that smelled of freshly fallen snow.

She’d missed afternoons like these. Buried beneath all the memories of the fights and humiliations with MacArthur, there had been earlier days when she’d felt happy on the slopes. A flash of her mom’s face shone clearly in her mind. She had worried she would forget what her mom looked like, but sitting on this old-style chairlift, in this old-style resort, how could she? Not while she was in the winter and the snow and the mountains, Mom’s favorite place.

Leaning into the warmth of Brody’s body, she gazed up at him. Without him, she never would have realized these things. He smiled down at her, too, with eyes as blue as the sky. There was no doubt in her mind that Mom would have liked him. Above all, he was kind.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He exhaled and his head lowered. It was the most natural thing in the world to meet him halfway.

His lips brushed hers, a light touch considering all his coiled power. Everything physical about him—his arm around her shoulders, his chest close to her chest, his muscular thigh nestled against hers on the bench—bled into her consciousness. Sighing, she parted her lips.

And that was it, the warmth burst into sparks. Brody gave a low groan. She opened her mouth and he kissed her deeply, his lips catching her upper lip while she gently sucked and drew him in. It felt so erotic and sensual kissing him that her head swam. All she could do was gasp. Her sexual feelings, so long stifled, were swamping her.

For months and months she’d been deliberately closing herself off, listening to Jeannie tell her how great it was with Massimo. For months and months she’d been fighting to establish herself in her chosen career by weekday, and advocating for her mother’s care by weekend.

Now it was her turn to enjoy some romance. She sighed and held Brody tighter, kissing him as if he was hers. And groaning, he kissed her back. Under the heavy parka, sweater, turtleneck and bra, her nipples came awake and peaked. Wriggling on the bench, she pulled off her glove to unzip her jacket, to settle herself closer to him.

“Manda—”

“Hmm?” Just as a wave was beginning to hit her, he broke away and raised the chairlift bar, then lifted her by the waist and glided with her down the short exit slope.

She felt breathless and dizzy, trying to orient herself, clinging to Brody. At the end of the path, he set her on solid ground.

Except it wasn’t solid ground. It was slippery, frozen snow. With her weak knees, her skis went out from under her. What a metaphor, she thought, but then Brody caught her and smoothly held her upright.

She inhaled a breath of cold mountain air and gazed up at him. His face was flushed.

“You kiss really, really well,” she said.

Humor was always good. Worked in every situation.

“I’m, ah, sorry about that.” He wiped his mouth. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Don’t ruin it. I’ve never been kissed so well.”

BRODY SHOOK HIS HEAD. Was he out of his mind? He hadn’t intended anything physical with Amanda, not at all. Maybe that was why his pulse raced as if he’d just finished a slalom run. And stupidly, all his body could think of was going back and doing it again.

Forget it. He swiveled and looked for the marker pointing to the Leopardo trail. Four trails originated at this lift, but he’d made a lousy decision because not only were the snow conditions icy and hard, but the Leopardo trail was too steep for a novice. He really would have to carry her to the ledge he’d wanted her to see, a loaded proposition given the way he’d already kissed her, but what choice did he have?

“Ah, Amanda, sometimes I ski with blind kids. I have them ski in front of me, and I hold their waists and guide them down the slope. Are you game to try that?”

“You do charity work?” she asked, that inquisitive reporter’s look wrinkling her nose.

“Don’t even go there,” he warned.

“Why? I’m interested in what you do.”

He glanced away so as not to get trapped by those probing hazel-green eyes of hers. “I have a foundation that works with kids—not just blind kids—but I don’t want to talk about it with a journalist.”

“Is that how you think of me?” She crossed her arms and frowned at him. “We just kissed, Brody.”

Yeah, no kidding. His body was screaming at him to take that one last step toward her and kiss her again, here in the snow at the top of the cold, darkening peak. Because he was burning so hot, he needed to cool down.

Two skiers came off the chairlift and turned toward them. “Hey, Brody,” one of them called. “Get a room!”

He muttered a curse. Which was a mistake. Because at the word, Amanda sucked in her breath and pointed her skis down the Leopardo trail. Planting her poles, she pushed off with a cry, tucking her body in a fair approximation of an alpine ski racer.

And damned if something about her form didn’t remind him of Jeannie Jensen. He’d seen the video—like thousands of people he’d watched the internet clip of Jeannie’s horrific, head-over-heels crash run last winter.

That’s why Amanda is afraid of skiing. Kicking himself, he followed her down the slope. He caught up to her within seconds, and the sight of her cute bottom in the tight black pants, wiggling from side to side, made his mouth drop open.

Yeah, she was hot, but it was her technique that shocked him. Somebody who knew their stuff had taught her to ski, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Maybe she wasn’t fast or aggressive—certainly not reckless like him—but she knew how to turn cleanly and plant her poles.

He was about to pass her so he could motion her to stop at the outcropping at the base of the hill, but when she saw what he’d brought her up here to see, she abruptly halted.

A MAGNIFICENT WINTER SUNSET spread orange and gold rays across the valleys of the Alps. Amanda stood on the ledge, her breath puffing in front of her, and thought she’d never seen anything so beautiful.

The scrape of skis against snow sounded behind her, and she knew without turning that it was Brody. She heard the clank of metal against plastic as he released his feet from his ski bindings, then the crunch of hard-packed snow as he stabbed the ends of the skis into the mountainside.

He stalked toward her and stepped between the backs of her skis. “What was that all about?” His voice was rough against her ear.

With a sigh she leaned back into his chest. “This is a beautiful sunset.”

“Someone taught you,” he insisted. “You have textbook technique.”

She nearly laughed. “You don’t know how ironic it is to hear you say that.”

And then, because she owed him an explanation, she did the difficult thing and told him the truth. “Okay, I’m just…upset because my mom would have loved it up here. That’s all.”

Brody’s cheek pressed against the side of her cap and his hands went to her waist. “Is she the one who taught you to ski?”

Her heart was going to break wide open if she wasn’t careful.

“Y-yes.” She bit the inside of her cheek and turned to him. “I told you, I’m a girl from the north country, and so was my…mom. Like you said, we all grow up learning to ski.” She faked a shrug.

“How long ago did you lose her?” he asked quietly.

She thought about deflecting him, but couldn’t. “Sh-she died two months ago.”

He pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek. “Manda, I’m sorry.”

“Why? It’s not your fault. I’ve been putting it out of my mind, but being in the mountains, it was bound to come back.” She blinked quickly, forcing herself past the rawness of her grief. “What about you?” she said with a phony smile. “Do you often come up here just to visit the sunset?” She kept it as light and teasing as she could, because she didn’t want him to know how badly losing her mom had hurt. The wound was still too fresh, too raw, so she simply did her best to pretend it didn’t exist.

She laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll bet you bring a different woman with you up here every time you ski this resort, don’t you, Brody?”

But he just looked at her as if he understood the emotion she’d been fighting and didn’t judge her for it. “I’ve been training on this mountain for over ten years, Manda, and this is the first time I’ve brought anyone here.”

She might not have believed him if she hadn’t seen the flush creep into his cheeks. “Oh,” she murmured.

“You coming from home and all, I thought you were the right person to finally see it with.”

Her eyes felt moist and she realized it was because his motives were pure. He’d come up here not to make out with her on a chairlift, but because he liked her and wanted to spend time with her. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy had genuinely wanted to get to know her better, with no ulterior motives.

Who was she kidding? It had never happened. Going to a ski-country boarding school and then college, she’d found most guys who pursued her only did so because they wanted a chance to meet her famous ski-coach father. But Brody already knew her father, and he didn’t want a thing to do with him. Brody was up here because of her.

She pulled off her heavy ski glove and wiped at her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She just shook her head. Tomorrow in church with Jeannie would be one of the hardest mornings of her life, if she were honest with herself, but right now was perfect. “Nothing about this day is wrong,” she said softly. She held out her hand and he took it. “I like skiing with you.”

But the sun was sinking, and soon it would be too dark to ski. She wasn’t ready to let him go just yet. She felt comforted by his presence, and she didn’t want him to leave. She certainly didn’t want to go back to Jeannie’s party.

“Do you want to grab some dinner?” he asked, still holding her hand. “I can ask one of the guys on my team to pick up some sandwiches for us. If we take that trail—” he pointed with his chin toward the left fork “—there’s a place at the bottom where we can meet him. It’s a harder trail, but I know you’re capable.”

She made a small laugh. “I’ll never get over how ironic that sounds.”

“Will you stay?” With his free hand, he fumbled inside his jacket pocket for his phone.

“Yes, Brody. I’ll stay.”