Perfect Kisses

by Maine, Miley

  I went back to the pub to pay my tab.

  “There's no way I'm going to let you pay for your meal. You saved me a lot of trouble with those two,” Ruth said.

  “Does that happen a lot?”

  “Not too often. Maybe once or twice a month.” She laughed. “I know you said you aren't working, but if you need a job I'd love to hire you. If word got out that all the pubs and restaurants have an effective bouncer, then maybe these idiots wouldn't act like that.”

  “Sorry. I'm not looking for work. When I do work, I'm self-employed now. I do small plane sightseeing tours.” I’d let the United States government make decisions for me for over a decade. I wasn't planning to ever work for anyone else again.

  “What did you do before? Military?”

  I blinked. When I entered the CIA, they had trained most of the military mannerisms out of us. The last thing we needed when infiltrating an organization was to be spotted as a member of the United States armed forces. That was a sure way to get ourselves killed.

  “I was in the Air Force. Why do you ask?” Was my original training coming back out? Had I slipped up that much?

  “I don't know anything about fighting, but I could tell you knew what you were doing.”

  I had learned my advanced techniques in the CIA not the Air Force. “It's just a lot of practice with martial arts. Jiu Jitsu, Taekwondo, Judo.” There was no reason to mention the rest to Ruth.

  “Well, if you wont accept a job from me, then I sure would like a flight through the mountains sometime. I can't stand big airplanes. But a little one might work out just fine.”

  “I'll keep that in mind,” I said. I had no intention of taking the bartender up in the air. As of right now, my plane was stored in a hanger and that's where I intended for it to stay.

  I paid my tab even though she didn't want to accept my money. And I got the hell out of there. I did way more interacting with people than I intended to. I'd come here to blend in, not be noticed. And the first thing I did was make a spectacle of myself.

  Dammit.

  I began to walk back toward my cabin. There were a few taxis available. And If I were willing to wait at one of the bus stops, there were shuttles that ran back and forth around the mountain and the villages that surrounded it.

  But I needed to move. I didn't want to sit still and wait. As I stepped onto the sidewalk I looked around. I had the feeling someone was watching me.

  I was probably just paranoid. I shoved my hands in my pockets and kept walking. On my way up the mountain, I passed one of the swanky restaurants located halfway up the mountain. During the snowy season, there was no parking lot. It was the kind they required a sled. It was supposed to be romantic -- all the visitors packed into a big snow sled piled with wool blankets and pulled by a tractor. Once they entered the restaurant, they were treated to a rustic dinner with roaring fires and candlelit tables.

  I failed to see the romantic part of being behind a huge gas-guzzling Caterpillar tractor, but what did I know about romance?

  Not a damn thing.

  I could see people inside the restaurant talking and laughing. Of course there was a Christmas tree in every corner. Then movement caught my eye. Right outside the restaurant door there was a couple. The body language of the woman screamed that she did not want to be there. I stopped and watched.

  Her voice was insistent. “I told you I'm done. I don't want to do this anymore.”

  He grabbed her upper arm. “I have already paid for that goddamn table. And it was $300. So get in there and eat your veal parmesan and shut the fuck up.”

  “Ouch! let me go.”

  He did not let her go. He put his hands on her shoulders and shoved her up against the outside of the cabin.

  Okay that was it. This moron was worse than the ones in the pub. I didn't waste time on this one. I ran.

  As soon as I was close, I kicked the guy away from her. My boot connected with his ribs. Not hard enough to break them, but they would definitely have the imprint of a boot tomorrow.

  The guy went sprawling in the snow. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “I'm making sure you listen to this lady right here.” I pointed at the guy. “You stay there. Do not get up.”

  The young woman was trembling and her teeth were chattering. “Come on, let's go inside. We'll get you some help.”

  She nodded and let me lead her inside. “Do you know him?”

  She nodded.

  “Boyfriend? Husband?”

  “No. it's just a date.”

  I exhaled. “Good. That means you can ditch his ass for good.”

  “That's what I was trying to do.”

  I took her straight to the hostess. “I need you to call 911. Right now.”

  “Let me get my manager.”

  “You don't need a manager to press three buttons.” I picked up the phone. “Here, I’ll do it.”

  “Air, I can't let you touch that phone.”

  “Too late.” When dispatch answered, I explained the situation. Then I sat the girl in front of the fireplace and told her to stay there.

  I went back outside; it sounded the little shit was trying to get away. He hadn't gotten far. I grabbed him by the back of the neck and shoved him back toward the restaurant. “You do not lay your hand on a woman. I know you heard her saying no.”

  The sheriff arrived within ten minutes and I explained what happened from my side.

  “Don't forget to take a photo of her face. He hit her. He also showed her against the outside of that restaurant. She could have hit her head.”

  The sheriff stared at me. “Are you a cop?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to be? We could always use a few more sheriff's deputies.”

  “No.” Now I'd had two job offers in one day. Cameron would enjoy this story. Once again I had done my time with Uncle Sam. A sheriff's deputy in the middle of nowhere was a far cry from a CIA agent, but I would still be beholden to the law.

  “All I want is for you is to take care of that scumbag. He thought he’d get away with shoving his date around.”

  “We will, sir.” He held out his hand. “Thanks for stepping in.”

  “No problem.” I was impressed. This was a much better reaction than I had expected. Sometimes local law enforcement didn't like citizens minding their business. Maybe Gray Sky would be okay after all.

  Two hours after I started, I finally made it back to my cabin. Once again I felt like I was being followed. When I got to the cabin I circled the perimeter looking for footprints. I found none. I went inside and got my night vision binoculars. I scanned the tree line but again, I saw nothing.

  “Cameron better not fucking show up here again,” I said under my breath. He was the one worried someone was going to catch me. I was trying to lie low, and stay off the radar. I couldn't do that with an active agent dogging my every step.

  I went inside and built a fire, and tried to go to bed. Within twenty minutes, I stood up. Sleep wasn’t going to happen.

  I grabbed my axe and saw and went outside. I would eventually need a chainsaw, but for now, I could chop wood by hand. I found a small oak tree on my property, and started swinging. The motion felt good. Once the tree was down, I started sawing it into logs.

  Maybe tomorrow I’d go hunting in one of the designated areas. I’d grown up hunting deer, squirrel, and quail. There was a small lake nearby too. Depending on how cold the water was, the fish might be biting.

  After chopping down a second tree, I was finally tired enough to lie down.

  5

  Bethany

  “This place is so quaint!” Mia squealed.

  “Yes. It’s so nice to not fight the crowds like we did the years we tried Vail and Breckenridge.”

  I tried to muster some enthusiasm. They were right. Gray Sky Resort was lovely. The girls had rented a three bedroom lodge for us. The views were breathtaking. The lodge had high ceilings with wooden beams, and there was a spacious porch that wr
apped all the way around. Everywhere I looked I got to see snow-capped mountains.

  I found myself looking at my phone, even though I knew they’d blocked Winston’s number. It wouldn't be that hard for him to use someone else’s phone to call me. But then he’d have to tell them what happened.

  I hadn’t gotten on social media at all, so I didn’t know if he’d tried to contact me that way.

  I wasn’t even sure if I wanted him to.

  Mia picked up a jug of apple cider from one of the small gift shops at the base of the mountain. She kept it heated on the stove at all times so they haven't even smelled like home.

  The two of them had just gone out to pick up lunch. They came back with a huge winter salad, a plate of ribs and a filet mignon.

  “You go first,” Mia said. “And do not try to tell us you're not hungry again. We are not going to let you waste away.”

  “I’m not going to waste away.” I just hadn't had much of an appetite.

  “Well, feeding you is our job. Your mother is not going to be happy with us if you come back twenty pounds lighter.”

  I laughed and picked up one of the ribs and scooped salad onto my plate.

  Emmaline made us all some hot chocolate and handed it out. “Listen we were just down at the pub. The owner is really nice. She mentioned there's a guy on the mountain who does private plane tours. Doesn't that sound fun?”

  That was exactly the kind of thing I was always wanting to do. My parents usually said no. I wanted to ride hot air balloons in Australia. I wanted to do white water rafting in Canada. When we were in the Grand Canyon, I wanted to do a helicopter ride.

  My parents were not thrill-seekers. But when I turned twenty-one, I skydived, bungee jumped and went parasailing. My parents didn't know about any of that.

  Emmaline and Mia were not thrill-seekers either. They had accompanied me on all of my adventures, but they usually stood back and took photos instead of participating.

  “So I must be pretty bad off if you guys are offering to go up in a tiny plane in the mountains with me.” Both of them preferred the 747 over even the smaller domestic planes.

  “We wouldn't say you were bad off exactly. We're just worried.”

  Mia's hand covered mine. “We are worried. What happened was a big deal.”

  “It's not like we were married,” I said.

  “No, but everyone thought you would be. I'm just glad Winston showed his true colors.”

  She was right. He could have apologized and begged for forgiveness, and chased me home that night. But he had done none of those things. Which showed me that the relationship was truly over. Nothing can resurrect it now.

  “Bethany, you haven't been yourself, since.” She hesitated. “You know.”

  Neither of them wanted to say Winston's name. I didn't blame them. I didn't want to say his name either.

  “So why don't we find this guy, and go up in the air.”

  They were right, this was something I would have jumped at the chance to do before. Especially if I didn't have to spend time convincing my parents that it wouldn't kill me. I still didn't really have the energy but I was going to force myself. If I didn't do something soon, I was afraid they were going to stage an intervention. Which could include calling my parents and telling them the truth. I was not going to let that happen.

  So I dragged myself to my suitcase and started digging out clothes. I looked for a sweatshirt and yoga pants, but most of the outfits they had packed for me consisted of designer skinny jeans and cute sweaters. And bras and panties. What the hell?

  “Where are my comfortable clothes?”

  Emma put her hands on her hips. “We're not going to let you lounge around like a ski bum all weekend.”

  “I don't feel like dressing up,” I said.

  Mia threw my sweater at my head. “We didn't bring clubbing clothes. We just brought something nicer than sweatpants.” She shoved my makeup case in my face. “Now get ready.”

  “Gosh, I guess the kid gloves are off now.”

  Emmaline yanked me up off the bed. “We tried coddling you but it didn't work. So now you get tough love.”

  I laughed for the first time since we’d been in the cabin. I pulled them both to me. “I love you, you guys are the best.”

  “We love you too,” they said in unison.

  * * *

  This pilot was not easy to find. But Emmaline insisted that Ruth, the pub owner, knew what she was talking about. She didn't have a phone number for him or a website. He didn't even have any social media accounts. “But Ruth stated that he would definitely want us to come to his cabin,” Emma said.

  I found the whole thing odd. But here I was dressed in my cutest jeans and my nicest sweater and my brand new white snow boots, traipsing down a snowy trail.

  “Wow. This guy really is off the beaten path.”

  “He just moved here,” Emma said.

  “How do you know all of this?”

  “Ruth,” Mia said. “The pub owner told us.”

  “How long were you down there?”

  Mia waved her arms around. “You were asleep forever.”

  I had been. I hadn’t wanted to get out of bed at all. But now that I was up, I was getting excited. I wondered what kind of plane he had.

  When I was a teenager, I’d begged my dad to get a plane and get his pilot’s license. Winston’s dad had gotten his, and he flew them to the Bahamas every summer. There were no lines at the airport, no security checks, no restrictions. But my mother, always the lawyer, had reminded me that most plane crashes were small ones, and not large commercial planes. So the private plane idea was nixed.

  Finally we made it to the end of the path. Hidden behind some pine trees, sat a perfect looking log cabin. Icicles hung from the eaves of the house. Yellow lights glowed in the window panes. Smoke rose from the chimney.

  Feeling a burst of energy, I stepped forward and knocked on the door.

  Minutes later, the door swung open.

  And a shotgun was pointed right at my face.

  I couldn’t even scream.

  I just gasped, and grabbed Mia and Emma, and pulled them down with me. We all hit the snow. Snow seeped through my jeans, freezing my skin.

  We lay there for a minute until the person holding the gun spoke in a gruff voice. “Get up.”

  I peeked up.

  A man stood in the doorway.

  He lowered the shotgun.

  “I said, get up.”

  I got to my knees, and then I pulled on my friends. “Mia. Emma. Are you okay.”

  We were all still sprawled out when two strong hands reached down and lifted me to my feet. Then he pulled Mia up and later Emma, until all of us were upright again.

  “What do you want?” he said. “Who sent you?”

  “Um. The pub owner. She said you were a pilot. We want a private sightseeing tour.”

  He cursed under his breath.

  He took a step back, and then I could really see him, a jolt of electricity coursed through my body. He was smoking hot. He was tall, with massive shoulders. His thick hair was dark and curled around his collar, and his eyes were a bright green. He also had a scowl on his face.

  For some reason, we’d pissed him off.

  I tried again, putting on my most winning smile. It never failed to work with professors, philanthropists, or journalists. “Hello.” I held out my hand. “I’m Bethany. This is Mia and Emma, and we were told you offer plane tours. We’d love to see the mountains.” I peered up at his cabin. “I’m sorry if this was a bad time. Your cabin is amazing.”

  Apparently the charm could fail.

  “Why the hell did you show up at my cabin unannounced? I could have shot you.” His scowl deepened. “I still might.”

  Well that wasn’t much of a way to gain new business. “We didn’t have your number.”

  “That’s because I haven’t given it.”

  Emmaline stepped forward. “We’re sorry to have bothered you. We’re lea
ving now.” I noticed that her teeth were chattering. She’d worn her wool coat instead of her ski coat.

  I did not want to leave.

  I could stare at this guy all night. He was sexy, in all the ways that Winston was not. My ex was handsome in a boring, bland way.

  Come to think of it, mostly everything about Winston was dull. He was smart, but he wasn’t thoughtful. He dressed just like every other frat boy at Fayetteville.

  This rugged mountain man was the polar opposite.

  His smoldering eyes immediately drew me in.

  I wanted to put my hands on him. I wanted to feel his hard chest under my hands.

  Instantly, my cheeks flamed. I had never had thoughts like that before. Never. At least not while I was standing in front of the person in question.

  It was crazy. He was a stranger. I'd been with Winston for years and I'd never felt that way about him. Of course I couldn't remember the first time I'd seen Winston. He just always had been there, a fixture in my neighborhood and at my school.

  Had I even been attracted to Winston?

  I wasn't sure.

  When I saw this man in front of me, my reaction had been immediate. Not only did I want to put my hands on his body, I wanted him to put his hand on mine too.

  I'd always heard people talk about fantasies. But I thought that's all it was -- just talk. My fantasies had been tame, and based on romance over sex.

  But it turns out fantasies based on desire can be pretty freaking powerful. A fantasy could make you want to do things like touch a stranger. A stranger that just pointed a gun at you.

  I wanted to kiss this rudy, strapping mountain man. I wanted that just as much as I wanted to go up and in his plane.

  My adventurous spirit had never included going after men. Winston had asked me out when I was in the ninth grade. His mother probably told him to.

  I remember being more excited about having a boyfriend than about Winston himself. In fact Mia had to force me to go to the homecoming dance with him that year.

  Maybe we hadn’t had a passionate love affair. I wasn’t even sure how much we liked each other. But our future had been certain. We would get engaged, finish college, get married, and both get our master’s degrees while our parents both chipped in for a starter home.