by Stacy Gold
Prickles formed behind my eyes as I considered my options. Considered what I would give up for my career. Because I wasn’t giving up my career for him no matter how bad I wanted him. I gripped Max tighter, smashed myself against his body, like having him physically close now would be enough.
Squeezing my eyes closed I sucked in a long, deep breath of his spicy, musky scent. Committing it to memory and savoring it at the same time.
We could have this one night, and get on with our regular lives tomorrow like nothing happened.
****
More than okay was an understatement. I hadn’t been this wrung out since the last time I’d been with Sophie. I held her closer, reveling in the heat of her still surrounding my semi-hard cock, and the way her arms wrapped around my neck like she never wanted to let go.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’d barely been treading water all season when it came to Sophie. Keeping my physical distance so I could keep my emotional distance. Now I was in deep and I didn’t want to swim out. I wanted to float here, with her, forever.
All it took was working with her for one day, and thinking I might lose her, for all my walls to crumble. And for me to do something monumentally stupid.
“Hey?” She shifted in my arms and looked up at me with those big blue eyes. “What are you thinking?”
Those eyes were irresistible. She was irresistible.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
I pressed my lips together and combed my mushy brain for the right words. Unable to think straight with her naked in my arms I set her on the desk, using the excuse of the condom to separate our sweaty bodies, and walked over to the trash can.
I stared at the pile of soda cans, bottle caps and plastic wrap in bottom of the can, searching for courage.
“Max, what’s up? Talk to me. Don’t go silent again now.”
The pleading note in her voice shafted right through me. I spun around. As much as it killed me, she deserved to have me look in her eye. “That was…incredible. But we can’t do this again.”
“You mean we shouldn’t do this again.”
“Yeah, that too.” I picked her jeans off the floor, handed them to her, and grabbed mine.
“So, what now?” She zipped her fly and shrugged into her shirt. “We go to sleep alone and do our best to pretend this didn’t happen, right?”
“At least until the end of the season. In the meantime, I’ll free up someone else to mentor you.” My voice was stern, decisive. Like it was trying to get the message to the rest of me. Especially the parts that wanted to crawl into bed with her and never leave.
I dropped my gaze. I’d never wanted any woman like I wanted Sophie. I’d spent the past two years trying to get her out of my head with no luck. After this, it was going to be impossible. But as long as we worked together I had to find a way to pretend I didn’t care.
“Yeah. Good call.” Her shaking voice was pitched so low I almost missed the words.
I glanced at her face. Wetness glinted in her eyes, and the corners of her mouth twitched down, tugging at my heart. All I’d been trying to do all season was keep her safe physically; instead I kept hurting her emotionally.
I closed the distance between us and swept her into my arms again, squeezing her tight against me and burying my face in her apple-cinnamon hair. I wasn’t ready to walk away. Not by a long shot. At least not tonight.
“Dammit, Sophie. One of my biggest regrets is letting you go.” I shifted so she could see my face, and twisted my fingers into hers. “I’ve missed our days in the mountains, and our nights wrapped in each other. You’re strong and tough and smart and beautiful and I can’t think of anyone else I want to have my back when things get rough. Or anyone else I want to celebrate with when things go right. If I had my way, I’d spend the rest of my life with you, starting right now.”
Her eyes were still too bright, but one corner of her mouth twitched. “Are you trying to propose?”
“No. I…I don’t know.” Was I? Maybe I was? My heart rattled inside my chest. “If I was, what would you say?”
The pain in her eyes turned my soul inside out.
“That I’ve missed our days in the mountains, and our nights wrapped in each other too. So, so much.” Her hand lifted to my cheek, and I tilted my face into the warmth of her palm. “But I’ve worked too hard—”
“No. God, I get it. I don’t want to fuck up either of our careers.” The full implications hit me and I squeezed my eyes shut. We couldn’t start dating as soon as the season ended, either. Everyone knows everyone in this industry. Word would get out, rumors would spread, and I wasn’t dumb enough to think it would affect us equally. I might get hired elsewhere, but Sophie’s career would be toast.
Chapter Nine
I perched on a stool at my kitchen counter and stared into my coffee cup, the room shrouded in pre-dawn darkness except for the tiny light over the stove. In thirty minutes, I needed to walk into the patrol shack and act like last night wasn’t the most mind-blowing, soul-stirring, emotional night of my life. Like I wasn’t madly in love with my boss.
I let my head fall back and my eyes fall closed. I didn’t want to feel this way. I’d fought these feelings all season. Hell, I’d fought them for the past two years. Now I had zero idea how I could keep my hands off him, let alone keep people from picking up on the chemistry between us. I had to though. No way could I lose this job.
I gave up these dreams once for my ex. Believed it when he told me I couldn’t be a mountain guide or a ski patroller. That as a five-foot-tall woman, I’d never get hired. Never get taken seriously. So, for a few years until we divorced, I quit trying.
I’d never do that again. No man was worth losing everything else that made me happy. Everything that made me—me. My heart crumbled. The dust drifting around my chest made my gut go dry and tight. If I had to choose between Max and a career as a ski patroller, I’d pick ski patrol.
****
I stared at Seth, then my clipboard. I’d spent the morning meeting staring at anything other than Sophie. If I looked at her, I might give in, sweep her into my arms, and carry her into my office for a repeat of last night.
“Zach, you and Seth prep Ruby Chutes to open.” I tapped my pen on the paper in front of me, pretending to review the assignments.
“Sophie, I need you to check the pads and fencing on Lucky Ned’s.” I glanced around the group seated at the table, keeping my eyes high enough to skip over her face.
Reading each other’s moods, looking for moments of unspoken doubt or concern—that’s part of what we did to keep each other safe on the hill. Not to mention we all lived and worked in each other’s pockets. Someone was bound to notice me staring at her like she was sunshine on my soul. But if I didn’t look at her, I could do this.
“Okay, everyone. Stay safe out there.”
Chatter filled the warm, damp air along with the clatter and scrape of chair legs and thud of boots. Sam, my boss, slipped in through the throng of ’trollers making their way toward the door and took Sophie off to the side.
I refilled my mug from the dented, bottomless coffeepot and headed into my office. Cinnamon-apple scented papers lay wrinkled and scattered across my desk and the plywood floor. The image of Sophie, splayed out on my desk, my cock slamming into her, filled my brain—not to mention other parts of me.
Last night was spectacular. Crushing my feelings down again, not so much.
I picked the papers up off the floor, set them on top of the others, and plopped into my seat. It would take at least an hour to put these back in order.
Totally worth it.
Knuckles rapped on the office door.
I startled. “Come in.”
Sam’s red hair and freckled face poked through the growing opening. Even at fifty, he had the energy and demeanor of the ski-bum he’d been for years before working his way up to COO of Emerald Mountain.
“Hey, Max. Got a sec?”
“Sure,
Sam. What can I do for you?” I shuffled the papers into a more organized pile and set them down.
He walked in, Sophie trailing, and slid the two, wooden classroom chairs out from the wall. Spinning one around on the other side of my desk, he straddled it, and motioned for Sophie to take the other.
His lips pressed tight for a moment. “How are things going this season?”
“Great. The team is gelling nicely, and we haven’t had any major incidents. The paperwork is a bit more time consuming than I expected, but I’m working my way through it.” I waved a hand at the slightly creased stacks on my desk, thankful for the few minutes to straighten up.
“Sophie?”
“Good. Emerald is a terrific mountain, and the crew is solid.”
He nodded, but his eyes stayed trained on the wall above my head. “Max, you know I really appreciate you coming on board with such short notice this season. You did it as a favor to me, and I think you’ve been doing a terrific job…”
I swiped my palms on my ski pants. “But?”
“But, last night I met the developer of those new condos for a late dinner and drinks at Moose Antlers. On the way to the parking lot I noticed your office light was on.”
My hands went still. My heart went still. My eyes went straight to Sophie’s stricken face.
“I came in, figuring I’d either turn it off, or tell you to stop working and go to bed,” he continued, an earnest expression on his face. “Turns out you were still here. But you weren’t alone. Or working.”
I slumped back in my chair and took the luxury of squeezing my eyes shut for just a second before meeting Sam’s again. “Yes.”
“You both know the policy on employee fraternization, right?”
“Yes,” we chorused. Sophie’s eyes were wide with shock. Her face as pale as the papers stacked on my desk.
“You two have put me in a seriously tough spot. If I fire both of you, as per policy, I’m short too many ’trollers to keep the mountain open safely, and it’s going to be next to impossible to fill your positions this late in the season. But we’re very strict about this policy because we’ve had…ahem, problems, before.” Sam shook his head.
I scanned my brain for a reason, a legitimate excuse, any way to change the outcome of this conversation. Coming up with one was about as likely as stopping an avalanche mid-slide, but I had to try. “It’s my fault. Fire me, but keep Sophie. You can’t afford to lose us both and she’s a helluva ’troller—”
Sophie gasped. “Max, you can’t—”
“I appreciate the sacrifice, Max, but I need my Patrol Director more. And your position is harder to fill.”
“No.” I stood so quickly my chair tipped over, clattering on the floor behind me. “It’s me, or both of us. If you fire Sophie, the rumors alone will kill her career. She doesn’t deserve that.”
“Technically, you both deserve that. You went against company policy, and you’re potentially putting the other ’trollers on your staff in danger if you keep letting your emotions cloud your judgment.” Sam glared at me, then his face softened a hair. “Look, I know how lonely it can get stuck up here all season. But sleeping with your staff is just not good for business. It causes too many problems, even if it’s casual.”
“The thing is, me and Sophie, it’s not casual.” I took a deep breath, searching for words that might help while Sam waited, eyebrows raised.
“Max asked me to marry him last night.”
Both of us turned and stared at Sophie.
****
I couldn’t let Max take the blame. And it wasn’t his job to singlehandedly get us out of this mess.
“Seriously?” Sam glared at me. “So, you two have been in violation of company policy all season?”
I met Sam glare for glare. “No, we have not.”
Sam rubbed his temples, and his eyes swung back and forth between us. “Explain.”
Running my tongue around my mouth, I moistened it enough to talk. Not that I knew what to say. It wasn’t like I was lying, just stretching the truth a little. But I wasn’t exactly wearing a ring. Not that I would be if we were hiding this. Which we would be.
“Max and I, we have history. Really good history, but not recent. I had no idea I’d be working for him when I took this job, or I might not have. Until yesterday, we hadn’t even been alone together here for more than five minutes.”
“And now you’re engaged, just like that?” Disbelief colored Sam’s voice.
“YES!” Max slammed his hands on his desk, startling me, took a breath, and tempered his voice. “I mean, no. Not just like that. We lived and partnered together for two months in Portillo doing IFMGA training. We were inseparable. Then Anna’s accident happened and, well, you know that story. I basically dropped off the face of the earth and didn’t see Sophie again until she came here. But I never stopped wanting to be with her. When I found out you’d hired her, I was worried about my emotions clouding my decision-making too, so I made sure we never worked alone together—until yesterday.”
Sam looked at me. “And you got sluffed and took a scary fall in Ruby Chutes yesterday.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I was fine, but Max wasn’t.”
“That’s when I realized I couldn’t live without her.” Max plunged on. “Last night, I told her I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. So, if you want to fire someone, again, fire me. It’s my fault this happened. Sophie doesn’t deserve to lose her job because I couldn’t keep my shit together.”
My coiled stomach sprang up into my throat. Max kept trying to throw himself under the bus for me. For my career. For my dreams.
“But clearly working with Sophie clouds your judgment.”
Max shrugged and smiled weakly. “We agreed not to work any more shifts alone together. Problem solved.”
“That only solves part of the problem.” Sam’s face was still hard as granite.
“We’ve only slept together once since we’ve worked here, and that was last night.” I chimed in. Much as I appreciated Max’s gesture, I was an equal participant in what happened. “We knew we broke the rules, and we agreed we’d keep our relationship on hold until the end of the season. So, you don’t have to worry about clouded judgment—on the hill or anywhere else.”
“Hmph…” Sam rubbed his chin and stared up at the fluorescent lights for a handful of beats. He brought his gaze down. “So, you two are serious about making this work?”
We nodded in unison.
“Is there a ring?”
Fuck. My heart shriveled to snowflake size. Our jobs, my career, were toast.
“Yes, there is. We figured it was best if Sophie didn’t wear it yet.”
My mouth popped open. What?
Chapter Ten
Sam looked at Sophie, then at me, his face unreadable. Sweat beaded along my hairline.
“Okay. Since the two of you are engaged, maybe we can work something out. God knows I can’t afford to lose either of you. But I want to think this over first, then meet with both of you again tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks, Sam. I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Sam,” Sophie echoed.
“Don’t thank me yet. You’re just lucky we’re shorthanded, and I’m the only one aware of the situation.” He stood and opened my office door. “See you in here at nine a.m.”
We sat silent until the front door slammed. I paced around the desk and took her hand. “I’m sorry this got so fucked up. If you lose this job, it’s my fault, and I’ll do everything I can to make it right.”
“It’s not your fault, Max. You tried to stop us last night, not me. You have to quit shouldering all the responsibility for other people’s decisions. You can’t keep everyone around you from getting hurt.”
I stared at the floor between us. “I just don’t want you to hate me for ruining your career.”
“I couldn’t hate you. Not when you tried to sacrifice your job so I could keep mine.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Good. It’s been hard enough knowing how pissed you were all season, I couldn’t handle it if you hated me.” I tugged her toward the door. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
I released her hand, opened the door, and stepped out into the bright sunlight. “My place.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?”
“Positive. Trust me.” I speed-walked toward employee housing, determined not to lose my resolve. Sophie trailed along and didn’t ask any more questions. I held open the door to the building, then the door to my one-bedroom apartment, and threw the deadbolt behind us. “Wait here.” I left her standing in the middle of the living room.
In two seconds flat, I found what I needed in the box in the back of my closet. Sophie stood in the spot I’d left her, fidgeting with the side-zipper on her ski pants.
I wanted to try to do one thing right, at least, and somehow make this whole, crazy, bass-ackwards situation better. I hoped Grandma would be proud.
****
I tugged my side-zipper up and down, focusing on the snick-snick sounds instead of the turmoil in my gut—an acid mixture of worry and relief. We hadn’t lost our jobs. Yet. But there were no guarantees.
Max walked out of his bedroom and hesitated.
“What’s up?”
He moved forward with a determined look on his face, and dropped to one knee at my feet. “Sophie, will you marry me?”
He held a ring pinched between his thumb and first finger. The clear stone in the center caught a ray of sunlight from the window and scattered it into a thousand rainbow prisms.
My mouth dropped. My heart floated. My gut clenched.
“What—” My voice sounded two octaves too high. I cleared my throat. “What is that?”
“My grandmother’s engagement ring.”
I blinked, and blinked again. Trying to focus. Trying to think. The words “Will you marry me?” kept replaying in my brain like a stuck record. My heartbeat pounded in my head with so much force it threatened to blow out my eardrums. A metallic taste swamped my mouth and my hands trembled. “You don’t have to do this, Max.”
