It's In His Forever (A Red River Valley Novel Book 5)

by Shelly Alexander

  Sandra pulled on a black down coat, covered her ears with a faux fur headband that matched her boots, and said, “Meeting adjourned. I need to look at the barriers, too, so I’ll go with Langston and…” Her gaze shifted to Jordyn, as though Sandra was trying to remember her name.

  “Jordyn!” Her blonde curls bounced as she all but shouted her own name.

  “Jordyn,” Sandra said slowly with an eyeroll in her voice.

  Jordyn clapped and bounced. “That’s me!”

  Dear Lord.

  Well, at least his plan had actually worked, and Sandra was coming. Just not coming in the way he’d like. He chuckled to himself. It had been far too long since that had happened, and he planned to remedy that as soon as possible.

  Outside, Sandra snapped on both skis, secured a pole around each wrist and stabbed them into the fresh powder. “Ready?”

  “Ready!” Jordyn said.

  Jeez. Sandra was glad her eyes were covered with polarized sunglasses to hide her eye roll.

  “I’m ready,” Cal said.

  Thank goodness he was going with them, so she wouldn’t have to focus on Jordyn’s constant hero worship for Langston. By the second day he’d joined the staff and started attending the daily meetings, her doe-eyed fawning over him had started to make Sandra nauseous.

  Okay, so he was a hero. And incredibly good-looking.

  Still…

  “You’re going to ski without ski pants?” Langston pulled on his gloves.

  “My leggings are made for weather like this.” Not completely true, but not a total lie either. They were made for extreme temperatures, but were supposed to be worn under snow pants. Sandra wasn’t about to wuss out, though. Not with a pretty young woman, who still had a body that hadn’t yet experienced gravity, giving Langston googly eyes.

  One of his silky brows arched high. A move that was usually his way of saying bullshit.

  She ignored it. “We won’t be out that long,” she said. “I’ve seen millennials snowboard in nothing but a helmet just to get a laugh from friends.” Until Deputy Sheriff Mitchell Langston hauled them away in cuffs when they reached the bottom of the run. “I’ll be fine.” Darned right she would. She could still do anything a sprightly nineteen-year-old could do.

  “Whatever you say. Let’s go.” He placed the sporty sunglasses hanging around his neck onto the bridge of his nose. The shades made him even more drop dead gorgeous in a badass kind of way.

  Jordyn sighed. Out loud.

  Oh, good grief.

  Sandra pushed off, heading to the main lift.

  “Hold up,” Langston said.

  She fishtailed her skis to one side, coming to a stop.

  Langston skied up beside her. “We need to go up the other lift.”

  “Why?” she asked. “This one’s closer to the course.”

  “We can get a better look at the spectator barriers from the other lift. This one has a copse of trees that will obstruct our view.” He leaned on a pole, waiting for her to respond.

  At least he was deferring to her authority. Not that it mattered. She was wrong, and he was right, which didn’t say much for her leadership abilities. She should’ve known which lift was better for viewing the course.

  “Fine.” Instead of side stepping to turn around, she pushed off in the wrong direction, pushed again to build momentum, then fishtailed to a stop, doing a one-eighty.

  She skied back to Langston, who gave her an appreciative nod.

  “You’ve always had mad skills on the slopes, Sans.”

  So had he. He also had mad skills between the sheets. Something she missed more and more each day she had to see him in the staff meetings.

  Even more than missing the great sex, she missed him. So very, very much.

  The sting of yearning that would never be satisfied bubbled up her throat, settling like acid against her tongue.

  She swallowed it back down. “Let’s—” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “Let’s go.” She pushed off, skied passed Cal and Jordyn, and caught the head of the cross-country trail that led to the other ski lift. She didn’t stop, didn’t look back until she arrived at the lift and stepped up to catch the next moving chair. Since it was a weekday morning, the chairs were mostly empty, as were the slopes.

  Langston caught up to her just in time for the lift to scoop them off the ground.

  The coldness of the chair bit into her butt and thighs, her thick leggings no match for the cold mountain altitude. “You’re not going to wait for your little girlfriend?” Sandra blurted before she could stop herself.

  Dammit. Even she could hear petty jealousy in her tone.

  Langston stared out over the mountains, swinging his skis playfully. He chuckled. “You do still care.”

  She so did. “No. Just wondering why you’re riding with me and not her. She adores you.”

  “Not interested.” He looked behind them. “Besides, you were going so fast, I told them to hang back for safety reasons.”

  Sandra turned around, too. Jordyn and Cal were several chairs back. So far back that she couldn’t make out their faces.

  “Can’t have members of my ski patrol getting hurt this close to the event.” Langston’s powerful thigh pressed into Sandra’s as the lift took them high above the tree tops.

  The air was so fresh and clean, as their frosty breaths fogged and swirled. The stark white mountains against the crystal blue sky was gorgeous. For the first time, the fact that she was going to be able to leave Red River for good struck a chord deep inside her. She’d felt trapped in the small mountain town for years, hoping and striving for the chance to start over somewhere else.

  Now that it was within her grasp, it weighed heavily on her heart. Pressed in on her like darkness.

  And the thought of never seeing Langston again made it hard to breathe. Nearly suffocated the life out of her.

  With a gloved hand, she grasped the safety bar across her lap and forced the fresh mountain air into her lungs.

  She wasn’t even sure where she’d go when she left. Maybe a few hours south to Albuquerque. Maybe a few hours north to Denver. Wyoming, Utah, Montana. The possibilities were endless. All beautiful places, but none of them pulled at her heart, and she wasn’t sure what her next step would be once she was free to leave Red River.

  All she was sure of, at that moment, was that she was going to miss the beauty of this place. Not nearly as much as she’d miss the beautiful man sitting next to her, though.

  “I wish we could stop the lifts just a little farther up. This is the best aerial view we have.” He pointed to their right as the course came into view.

  She pulled off a glove and retrieved a walkie-talkie from her jacket pocket. “I got this from the lodge as soon as the event was moved to Red River so I can communicate with them, the lift operators, base camp, or anyone else I need to speak to. Cell service is spotty, depending on where I’m at on the slopes, so this seemed to be a more efficient way of communicating. I’ll make sure the rest of the staff is assigned one for the event. You and the ski patrol especially need them.” When she pushed the button on the side of the device, it crackled to life. “This is Sandra. Stop the lift so we can inspect the barriers from above. Don’t start it again until you hear from me.”

  It slowed, then came to a halt, the chair swaying gently with them suspended over the winter landscape.

  Langston smiled.

  Which made her heart skitter and skip.

  “Good thinking. That’s why you’re the boss.” He pointed to the course again.

  She followed his outstretched hand. She leaned into him, her chin perched over his shoulder to get a better bead on what he was looking at.

  Damn, he smelled good. The scent of masculine soap still clung to him. The tips of his hair curled around the bottom of his knit winter cap and glistened with the faintest hint of moisture. Obviously, he’d stepped out of the shower, pulled on clothes, and headed straight to the meeting.

  “
The course is farther away from this lift, but the main lift runs along the far side of the course.” He leaned back against her and kept pointing. “Those are the trees that would’ve prevented us from seeing the spectator barriers from above. We have a better aerial view from this lift. We can inspect them closer when we’re skiing down.”

  Her mouth was so close to the small strip of exposed skin just behind his ear that she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from kissing that spot. “I see what you mean.” Her words came out as a whisper.

  A visible shiver raced over him, and slowly, he angled his head to the side to look at her.

  “I gotta say, Sans, I’m not getting an I don’t love you anymore vibe. As much as I love that mouth of yours…” His chocolaty eyes turned lazy with lust and dropped to her lips. “It says one thing, but your body language says another.” He turned, letting his lips hover just above hers. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come because he was so right. She’d lied to him about her feelings a few days ago. Why couldn’t she do it now?

  Before she could gather her wits, his warm lips captured hers. Soft yet firm. Patient yet demanding.

  She melted into him, as she always did when he kissed her. His taste and the softness of his tongue against hers caused a storm to kick up low in her belly. Langston’s touch turned her mind to mush and her body to putty.

  Always had. Always would.

  She sighed into his mouth, and he deepened the kiss.

  How would she ever learn to live without him? Without this?

  He snaked an arm around the back of the chair to encircle her shoulders. The other gloved hand slid up her thigh, settling in the center.

  She moved her legs farther apart to give him more room.

  His thick gloves only increased the friction. Even against the freezing cold chair, heat still ignited where he rubbed her until it scorched down her limbs.

  She moaned.

  “Yes, baby,” he whispered against her lips, then took her mouth again in a wicked hot kiss.

  Need cinched her core tighter and tighter as she reached for the glorious place that only Langston could take her.

  She reached up to mold a gloved hand against his jaw…

  And the walkie-talkie fell from her hand, plummeting to the earth below.

  They both went deathly still.

  Finally, she peered over their dangling legs and he did the same. The black walkie-talkie was a mere speck against the blanket of fresh powder.

  “Oops,” said Langston.

  That had to be the understatement of the year.

  They were stranded on a chairlift in the freezing cold, with no way to tell the lift operators to start them moving again. She was wearing leggings with no snow pants, and if someone didn’t figure out fairly quickly that they needed help, she might end up with frostbite.

  And it was all her fault.

  Some boss she’d turned out to be. Not only had she put herself at risk, but she’d put three of her staff at risk as well.

  Maybe the city council’s skepticism over her capability and reliability had been spot on. If she couldn’t go up a chairlift without endangering herself and three others, then she was probably the last person the council should’ve trusted to pull off an event as big as an international snowboarding championship.

  And if they didn’t get back to base camp without losing a few digits to frostbite…everyone was going to know it.

  Chapter Five

  “Do you have a cell phone with you?” Sandra asked Langston. “Mine is in my purse back at the lodge.” They needed to call someone to get the lifts moving again ASAP.

  Langston used his teeth to pull off a glove.

  She grabbed it. “Let me hold that so it doesn’t fall, too.”

  “Because you’re so good at holding on to things these days?” His expression said he wasn’t just talking about the walkie-talkie or the glove, but also the fact that she’d let go of him. He unzipped a cargo pocket on the side of his snow pants and withdrew his phone, tapping the screen.

  She relaxed. “Thank God.” She didn’t want to add endangering herself and three others to her long list of transgressions against the people of Red River. Especially since this particular transgression would’ve actually been true.

  Langston frowned at the phone.

  Worry prickled over her skin, adding to the burn of the frozen chair against her backside. “What’s wrong?”

  “My phone is malfunctioning. Probably because of the single digit temperature.” He stuffed the cell down the neck of his jacket and under his sweater. “My body heat will warm it up enough to start working. Give it a few minutes, and it’ll be fine.” His half-hearted smile didn’t convince her in the least.

  The prickle of worry turned to a stab of dread.

  At least she could still feel something, so there was that.

  She turned around and waved both arms, shouting to Cal and Jordyn to see if they had a phone. They were too far away to hear her, but in the distance, she could see the fuzziness of their arms waving back, as though it was all good.

  Sandra turned back around and dropped her forehead against the safety bar.

  “If they do have a phone, theirs won’t likely be working either.” Langston pressed a hand over the phone and held it firmly against his chest.

  Holy hell, they were going to freeze to death all because of her. She should’ve taken the time to put on snow pants. She should’ve kept her wits about her and not let go of the walkie-talkie. Instead, she got distracted because Langston’s mouth and hands made her ovaries—the shameless little hussies—want to ovulate right there on a chairlift!

  The chair swayed gently as they gave the phone time to warm against his chest.

  “I’m sorry.” Sandra’s voice cracked. “I screwed up.”

  “Nothing’s screwed up.” He reached into his sweater for the phone.

  “I shouldn’t have dropped the walkie-talkie.” She blinked away the sting at the back of her eyes.

  “I shouldn’t have distracted you.” He tapped on the screen. “Oh shit.”

  He let his hands fall to his lap and looked out over the mountainside, as though he was taking in the view. Or defeated.

  Oh shit was right.

  Gently, she tapped her forehead against the safety bar. The sound caused an idea to spring to life, and she bolted upright. “Okay, Mr. I Save Lives Like It’s Just Another Day at The Office. You know Morse Code, right?” Her teeth started to tink, tink, tink against each other.

  He nodded, stuffing the phone back into his pants pocket. “I do.”

  “Good, because I can’t feel my butt anymore.” She handed him his glove. “See if your pole is long enough to reach the suspension cable.”

  He gave her smart aleck grin—the kind that usually had her going hot all over and moist in places she couldn’t talk about in public. “You already know how long my pole is.”

  Yes, yes, she did. All too well. And it was impressively long. “This isn’t the time for jokes. I’m about to lose the backs of my legs and at least one ass cheek to frostbite. If your pole doesn’t reach high enough, then one of our skis will so you can tap out an SOS.”

  He looked up to survey the suspension cable. “You’re damn smart, you know that?” The approval in his voice wasn’t lost on her.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t deserve it.

  “A smart person wouldn’t be stuck halfway up a mountain in subzero temperatures, wearing nothing but leggings.” Now her teeth knocked against each other in a full-on chatter. “All because she couldn’t resist the advances of a horny flight medic.”

  “True,” he deadpanned.

  At which point, she elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.

  He broke into laughter. “Okay, okay.” He lifted one ski pole high in the air and stretched up as far as he could. His long arms fit his tall frame, allowing the tip of the pole to reach the cable. He tapped out a message agains
t the metal.

  She had no idea if his tapping would vibrate far enough up or down the lift for someone to receive it, but it was worth a try.

  When he was done, he unzipped his jacket and took off his sweater.

  “Are you nuts?” She grabbed at his coat and tried to put it around his bare shoulders.

  He shrugged her off. “Hell yes. I’m nuts for going along with your stupid idea to keep our relationship a secret all these years. Now, lift your ass.”

  “Um, what?” She scrunched her forehead. “And did you just call me stupid? Right after you called me damned smart?”

  “I called your idea stupid because it is.” He held up the sweater. “Let me do my job as safety officer and save that pretty little ass cheek of yours.” His words came out shaky because his teeth were chattering, too.

  She lifted one side of her butt. He slipped the sweater underneath, and she pulled it completely under her, tying it over the front of her thighs.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was a whisper, misty fog swirling with each breath.

  “You’re welcome.” Langston pulled his coat on and zipped it up. “But don’t thank me yet. No one has answered my SOS.”

  “Which is still my fault.” She bit her ChapStick covered lip.

  “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is, Sans. People are people. We make mistakes. We get over them and move on. It’s as simple as that.” With a pole, he snapped off one ski, then the other. They fell to the earth below.

  “What are you doing?” Sandra gasped.

  “Saving both of our asses.” Before she knew what was happening, he snapped off one of her skis and reached for the other. Just like his, they plummeted. He took both of his poles and anchored them between the slates of the back of the chair. “Gimme.” He waggled a set of fingers at her poles until she gave them up, and he anchored them between the slates, too. Angling his body, he said, “Come here. I’ll be the cocoon. Our combined body heat just might keep us from freezing to death.”

  “And I repeat, it’s my fault we’re in this mess.” She snuggled against his chest and he wrapped his large frame around hers. The chair was only built for two, so they couldn’t fully stretch out, but they curled into a twined human ball as best they could.