Читать книгу Winter Wedding Bells - Jennifer Snow - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

AUSTIN STOOD BY the fire in the lodge’s foyer, stalling. His plan to leave in the morning without running into Julie was going up in smoke. He’d managed to avoid her yesterday, but now a large crew, including the beautiful brunette, gathered by the front desk and handed over room keys and settled bills. The wedding looked canceled.

He shoved down a surge of excitement. Once he’d been like the sad-faced fellow Julie now hugged. Knew all too well how her indecision and risk aversion brought men to their knees. It’d taken years for him to stop thinking about her, and their mountaintop kiss had brought everything back.

At least she’d go soon. Leave him to his solitary routines. He needed his peace of mind again after she’d stirred up long-buried emotions. His body tightened into a wrung towel thinking it over. Time to stop replaying the other night and remember all the reasons they didn’t work.

Strangely, Noelle, the front desk clerk, and a large, straight-backed man with a military haircut, gave the group hugs and handshakes. They seemed to be thanking Julie, the groom and the families for something. After a flurry of kisses and bro-hugs, the mass moved out to the parking lot, leaving Julie talking animatedly to the couple.

He stared at Julie, tall and curvy in a cobalt ski suit that looked more suited for the slopes than a car ride to Connecticut. That brilliant color accentuated her braided hair, glossy as chestnuts, and emphasized her naturally dark pink lips.

Where was her luggage?

“Austin!” She looked exhausted and it aroused every protective instinct in him.

Several male heads turned as she hugged Noelle goodbye and strode in his direction, her dark eyes like a sparkling Christmas night. Something in the way she moved, in the straight back and swing of her shoulders, her quick-fire expressions, made it impossible to look away. When she drew close, her vanilla sugar-cookie scent perfumed the air and he breathed in deeply, silently.

“I’m sorry about your wedding.”

A cloud passed over her expression and her smile fled completely. “Me, too. I really messed up. Hurt Mason.”

“Better he knows now than...” He bit off the mental comparison he made to his own tortuous year. The roller coaster she’d put him on. One he wouldn’t ride again, no matter how much she called to him.

“Yes. Much better. For everyone.”

He pulled his keys from his coat pocket. Time for him to cut ties, too. “Have a safe trip home, Julie. And I’m sorry about the other night. I never should have crossed the line.”

“I’m not.”

Surprise cemented his joints. “Not what?”

“Not sorry about the kiss. And not leaving.” The way she stood—hip cocked, chin tucked, eyebrows up—underscored her defiant words.

“I don’t follow.”

Julie gave him a small hooded smile. Intimate. She pulled him to a more private corner of the room where a crystal bowl surrounded by cut-glass cups dominated a mahogany table. Eggnog swirled inside, nutmeg sprinkled across its frothy surface. He eyed it, suddenly needing a drink.

“Austin, I realized something important these last two days, but I’m not going to tell you what it is. Not yet.”

“And you brought me over here to share that?” His lips twitched, amused. She might not like surprises, but she never failed to catch him off guard. Kept him on his toes...and he enjoyed every minute of it, much as he wished he didn’t.

An unladylike punch smacked his shoulder.

“Nice.” He rubbed it as though it hurt. “You’ve always had great manners.”

Her cheeky grin shot adrenaline into his bloodstream. “I try. But listen—Dad wants Mom to stay and get spa treatments. Since I’m on my own for the next few days, I thought you could show me the sights.”

He stepped back and his hip jostled the table, the bowl tipping.

Julie lunged and their hands brushed as they righted the glassware. His fingers traced hers for an electric second before he stuffed them in his pockets.

“There must be someone else...”

“My maid of honor is at the spa and Mom will be busy with treatments. Come on, Austin. It’ll be fun. Like old times.”

That was the last thing he needed. The other night, he’d wanted to run back through time with Julie, but in the cold dawn hours, he’d come to his senses and dismissed that fantasy. She hated risk and he thrived on it. A future for them was impossible.

A pianist settled himself at a black baby grand piano beside a towering Christmas tree. The balsam branches swung two stories high, alive with light twirling on glass and tinsel. The first notes of “Silent Night” drifted across the room.

“I’m not the best tour guide, Julie. If you head downtown, there are a lot of shops...vintage ones, too. You could add to your collection of cream-and-sugar sets.”

“I’ll have to get them out of storage,” she said absently, shifting her gaze away from him. “Anyway, I’m going skiing today and hoped you could teach me.”

Austin looked at Julie, full-on and curious, as if he was seeing something new. All the years they’d dated, she refused his offers to take her to the slopes. Why the change of heart?

As he puzzled it out, the pianist swung into a spritely version of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” his smooth baritone attracting a small crowd.

“You’re going skiing,” Austin repeated, trying and failing to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

She tossed him a look that read equal parts fear and challenge. “Yes.”

“But you used to think skiing was risky.”

“Exactly why I’m doing it.”

Austin looked at her for so long that she started to look uncomfortable. She dropped her gaze and grabbed a glass of punch.

“What’s going on, Julie?”

The nylon of her jacket swished as her shoulders raised and lowered. “I’m too cautious. Don’t take enough chances. It’s time I changed that.” She downed half a glass.

His eyebrows rose. “Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Her fingernails drummed on the side of the cup.

“Not to me.”

She snorted and gulped the last of the punch. “Right. Fine. It’s because I’ve missed out on too much worrying about what I didn’t know. Important things that I now regret.” She looked him directly in the eye.

He shifted under her scrutiny. If she meant him, he wasn’t getting his hopes up. “That’s a big change.”

“Tell me about it. Have you seen how terrifying that bunny slope looks? Check it out online.” She shot him an involuntary smile, her face betraying a mix of hope and alarm, before twisting around to place her cup on the table.

He grinned. Her quirky sincerity always got to him. “You really think you can do it?”

“Are you kidding?” A breathless laugh escaped her. “I’ll be eating snow all day, but I want to try.”

“I meant throwing away your anxiety.”

She inspected the razor-sharp edge of one of her braids. “I don’t know. Guess that’s why I’m asking for your help. Who better than Mr. Daredevil, right?”

An elderly couple joined the piano player and belted out “Blue Christmas,” the older man swiveling his hips and crooning like Elvis as his wife giggled and swatted his arm.

They looked happy. Companionable. Their roles—husband as show-off and wife as appreciative, though protesting, audience—were firmly entrenched. They reminded him of his parents. And grandparents. He’d always wanted to be part of a team like that. Had once thought Julie would be the ideal teammate. But it had fallen apart. Did he dare spend time with her again? Could she really change?

There was only one way to find out, but he’d keep his guard up. It was noble of her to try, and he’d help her, but that’d be as far as things would go between them.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll grab my gear.”

She held up her watch and pretended to press a side button. “Timer’s set. Go!”

He chuckled as he hustled to the elevator, more intrigued than he cared to admit.

A day with Julie. He couldn’t resist, despite her history of raising his hopes, then crushing them. It’d taken him years to forget her...if he ever had. He watched her disappear into an elevator and nodded to himself. He wanted this time with her, no matter how much he risked by letting her get close again.

* * *

“YOU CAN OPEN your eyes. I won’t let you fall.”

“Have you seen how far up we are?” Julie squeezed her lids tighter and held still as the ski lift continued its jarring ascent up Whiteface Mountain. Why had she followed through on this idiotic notion?

Austin’s arm tightened around her waist.

Right. This was why. She snuggled closer to his side and rested her head on his broad shoulders. She wanted a second chance for them. And she wanted to convince him that she’d changed. Proof? She’d canceled her wedding and she and Mason had given it to another couple. Both decisions she would have agonized over before. She nibbled on her lower lip. Well, it was a start anyway.

And how gracious of Mason... Her heart clenched as she pictured the way his expression had lightened when she’d mentioned Noelle and Ted. Instead of reacting angrily, a justifiable response given what she’d done, he’d supported her when she called to explain the change in plans to Grace. He was a great guy and some woman would be lucky to have him. Just not her...

When something brushed the bottom of Julie’s feet, she squealed and her eyes flew open.

“What was that?”

“A tree that needs to be cut.”

She looked out at the vista stretching in every direction and gulped. No. She would not look down. But the snowcapped mountains resembled a postcard from the Alps. Pretty. The sun made the air feel bright and warm, despite the freezing temperatures. And the sky. Blue, a blue like she’d never seen before.

All was calm. The brightly clad skiers in the swaying lifts ahead didn’t appear concerned that only a thin metal rail kept them from plunging to their deaths... She snatched at the anxious thought and stuffed it away.

Julie had much nicer things to focus on. Shivers of awareness ran through her as she sat beside Austin, nodding without listening as he rattled on about balance, ski tips and stuff she surely didn’t need since she’d probably spend most of the time on her butt, not her skis.

“Wait. How do I get off this thing?” Panic snaked through her as passengers from a car ahead of them glided off the plastic seat.

“You ski off.” A crossbeam of sun lightened Austin’s eyes to amber, like a wolf’s. The thread of Canadian-goose calls strung high across the cloudless sky. He turned, head tilted back, to watch the birds wheeling in the circle of blue, in and out of their V.

Julie finger-shot herself in the head. “Of course. No problem. Except I don’t know how to ski.”

“After I lift the bar, slide forward to the edge of the seat and point your ski tips up. Once they touch the ground, stand up and the lift will give you a little push.”

“As in knock me over? How many times did I fall before I got on this thing?”

“I stopped counting after seven. The operator said it was a record.” Austin’s pirate’s smile set off a breathtaking tingling surge inside her.

“Are you mocking me?” she asked, but she couldn’t stop herself from grinning.

He spread his broad hands. Innocent. “What do you think?”

The couple ahead of them glided off their seat.

“Austin! We’re next.”

He squeezed her hand. “Don’t panic. Or dawdle. As soon as you’re off the seat, move away fast. Got it?”

“Do I have a choice? Ahhhhhh!”

Julie spit out a mouthful of flakes and struggled to her knees. The ski lift looped behind her. At least she’d cleared it. That had to count for something...

“Nice face-plant,” drawled Austin. He loomed tall, looking athletic and incredibly gorgeous in fitted black ski pants and a matching jacket with a lime-green stripe. “Want some help?”

“This skiing sure is fun.”

“You wanted to come.” He pulled off his goggles and squinted down at her, his smile headlong, anarchic and utterly irresistible.

“I might have to plead insanity on that.”

He beckoned her, his angular cheeks a stung-red color. “Come on, Julie. There’s only one way down.”

“A stretcher?”

He chuckled and pulled her to her feet where she wobbled, skis sliding. “Bend your knees and don’t lean so far forward.”

“Just don’t let go.”

He gripped her hands, the steady pressure reassuring. “This isn’t exactly a team sport.”

“If it was, I’d give you a zero.”

“Good thing we’re not competing.” He drew her slowly toward him, looking into her eyes, and heat burst in her belly. Caught in the quickening of his breath, in his darkened eyes, she leaned forward. For a heart-stopping moment he traced her face.

Then he gave himself a shake and slid on his goggles. “Ready?” he asked. Brusque.

“So how do I stop again?”

Austin expertly scooted backward and angled the front of his tips inward. “Just think pizza slice.”

“Now I’m hungry.”

“There’s a news flash. We’ll grab some when we get down to the lodge.”

“You forget I’ll be eating Jell-O in a hospital bed.”

“So says the risk taker,” Austin chided, but there was the corner of a grin there, too, bitten back.

Julie let out a long breath. Right. Time to get over herself. What was the worst that could happen on a slope named after a fluffy rodent? She planted her poles in the snow and pushed.

In a flash, she flew down the slope, sure she should have picked the more difficult run, after all, until one ski tangled with the other. She vaulted over them both and into some scrub brush.

Nice.

Austin jetted to her, stopping with a blinding spray of snow. He sank to his knees, his hands running over her legs and arms. “Are you hurt?”

“I meant to do that,” she said when her lungs started working again. “And no. Nothing injured. I don’t think.”

“Believe me, you’d know. Though your back or neck will probably ache in the morning.” He’d pushed his goggles up over his hat again and his eyes searched hers.

“Will you adjust it for me?” Austin had earned his degree in sports chiropractic while she finished her BA. He’d earned a degree in exercise science as an undergrad and he was licensed as a strength-and-training coach as well as a performance-enhancement specialist. If she’d trust anyone with her neck, it’d be Austin.

One side of his mouth jacked up. “You know where I live.”

Julie clutched a branch of a miniature Christmas tree to stop herself from slipping and stood. When her skis slid, Austin grabbed her and it seemed as if a sheet of foggy glass fell away in front of them: every color leaping, every birdcall separate and vivid.

“Ready to try again?” he asked into her ear, sending her nerve endings into overdrive.

“You promised me pizza at the end of this, right?”

He stepped back and put a hand over his heart, light skidding across his handsome face. “Pepperoni and meatballs.”

Her mouth watered, imagining her favorite, though at this moment she wanted Austin more. “You remembered.”

She moved aside as a family of four rushed by in a flash of neon jackets and pom-pom hats.

“Sometimes too much,” she thought she heard him mumble as he skied a few feet down before turning. Breath lifted Austin’s chest, as if he was bracing himself for something. “Up and at ʼem, Julie.”

“Who’s Adam?”

His mouth tipped upward at their old joke and she grinned back before pushing off again, slower this time.

“Curve side to side,” coached Austin. She swiveled her hips, leaning slightly into each shallow turn. The sun warmed her back through her jacket and a lightness stole through her.

This was fun.

Yes, there was a chance she’d fall again.

Yes, there was a chance she’d hit scrub brush.

And yes, there was a chance she really might end up on that stretcher. However, those possibilities should not—would not—ruin this moment.

She felt free. Powerful. Moving through space like she was running—only faster. Laughter escaped her, cascading, bubbling over her tongue sweet and smooth.

When she hit a bump, she ended up sprawled in the snow again.

Graceful, she was not.

Other beginners edged by her as Austin expertly sped back, floating on the snow, by the look of it. The tink tink tink of a bird sounded somewhere close.

“Okay?”

She was already back on her feet and leaning on her poles when he reached her. “Definitely. This is incredible.” The air smelled so good she wanted to bite into it, feel the soft crunch between her teeth.

“I knew you’d like it if you gave it a chance.”

Their eyes locked and moments ticked by, until a kid barreled into Austin, sending them both sprawling.

Julie laughed as they scrambled upright. Nice to see Mr. Athlete could be a little ungainly once in a while.

“That’s two for me and one for you.” Julie bumped his shoulder with hers and propelled herself forward.

“You forgot your swan dive off the ski lift.” Austin slid a teasing look her way when she passed him.

Trees turned to a green blur as she skied, the early afternoon sun reflecting off her metal poles. “I’m actually trying to forget that one, thank you very much,” she called over her shoulder.

Austin reached her and tapped the side pocket she knew held his cell phone. “I’ll send you a picture if you like. Or you can grab it off my Facebook page.”

Julie gasped. “You are evil.”

“One of my best qualities.” He tossed her one of his devil-may-care grins, looking impossibly handsome.

A valve loosened inside of Julie, making her feel entirely different from the “think first, act never” girl she’d become again when she’d returned home from college. She sped up and whizzed by him, her muscles coordinating at last.

“I’ll be the judge of that. See you at the bottom, sucker.”

“Oh, it’s like that, then.” He easily caught up to her and swished from side to side. “What do I win if I get there first?” His lazy grin knocked the wind out of her.

“What do you want?”

He cocked his head and his eyes glinted before he faced forward again. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

In a moment, he’d disappeared around a bend, the roof of the lodge closer than ever.

No doubt he’d win, but so would she. Whatever lurked around the next turn didn’t scare her anymore. She pushed harder, eager to find out what lay ahead.

Bring it on.

Today showed she could let go and face her fear of the unknown.

And that could include a future with Austin. She just had to make him believe it, too.