As she washed her hair, she kept reliving the way Luke’s body had moved, both on the SBX course and when he’d punched Dickhead #1 at the café yesterday. He was everything the “tightly coiled spring” cliché could muster—hard bodied and waiting to explode into action.
Charlotte snorted. She needed to get a grip. Luke was a nice guy, and sexy as hell, but her time was limited right now, and she was holding out for something long term. The last three times she’d dated a pretty, athletic type, she’d caught each flirting with, kissing, or screwing some giggling snow bunny, sorority girl, or socialite. Definitely not keepers.
The last guy-who-must-not-be-named was the one she’d actually dated the longest—nine months. Long enough to fall in love. Long enough to blind herself to the reality of him. She’d thought she could change him, pull him out of his man-whore ways.
She’d been wrong.
Growling, Charlotte turned the shower off without caring how cold she’d be when she stepped out of the steam. She wanted the cold to smack her around a little bit. Thinking about her ex always stung more than it should after all this time.
She had to admit, Luke was charming as hell, and she’d enjoyed hanging out with him. Besides, she had needs, and she had a feeling Luke would be an excellent way to fulfill them. But could she trust her heart not to get involved if she did give him a chance? It didn’t have a great track record.
No. She should just focus on what was really important, the MCAT and her future, and invest in a new vibrator. She had a busy, full life without a guy getting in the way.
Then again, vibrators didn’t have shoulders like Luke Madison’s. Or an ass like his, either. Or the kind of smile that could melt ice. Or…
“Girl, you need to get a grip,” she murmured at her reflection as she brushed wet snarls out of her hair.
Her phone buzzed on the vanity.
Evangeline: Girl, we’re snowed in. Like, for real.
Charlotte frowned. That happened here? She thought it only happened in the south when more than half an inch of snow fell. Wrapping herself in a towel, she went to open the blinds in front of the window that looked down onto the resort. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, but it was enough to see snowplows dragging trenches through snow that came halfway up their tall tires.
Holy shit.
She hurried back to her phone. Should I bother opening?
E: Yes. We should be plowed out soon. Dad’s snowblowing our driveway. Put up a sign saying we’ll open an hour late.
C: Gotcha. I’ll start some coffee and some rolls in case people show up before the kitchen is ready.
E: Good plan. In soon.
C: Be careful.
E: We will.
Charlotte set her phone down and reached for the hair dryer. She could’ve slept a little longer, but if nobody showed up, she’d have fresh coffee, hot rolls, and her MCAT study guide to keep her company.
Nerves tugged at her stomach. She didn’t have room for error. You could only take the MCAT three times, and she’d told herself—and her parents—this was her last shot. If she failed again, she’d start a master’s program to become a physician’s assistant. She’d already been accepted to start at ASU in that program in the fall. So she had a backup plan.
But she would never be Dr. Charlotte Brown if she couldn’t pass the MCAT.
Charlotte leaned against the sink. Her career goals were partially for her mom, but more because she loved medicine. She’d heard one doctor say, “Don’t go into medicine to help people. Go into it because you love the science.”
What if she loved both?
She stared at herself in the mirror. A girl with a determined frown and a furrow between her eyebrows stared back, her skin flushed from the shower. She’d do this. She had to.
Charlotte had two batches of rolls in the warmer and coffee ready to go by seven thirty. Evangeline had texted again to say it was slow going, even in her dad’s all-wheel-drive SUV. They usually opened at seven, but from the looks of the drifts piled against the walls of the café, they might not have anyone show before nine.
Armed with a shovel, she went outside to clear and salt the walk. The lifts were running, and the parking lot was clear, along with the main road up to the resort. The lot only had about six cars in it, though.
Shivering, she went inside to warm up and study. It was cozy here when the café was quiet and empty. She’d just resolved to enjoy a free morning when someone knocked at the front door. Charlotte’s head popped up from the study guide, and she saw a man’s silhouette framed in the doorway. She couldn’t see who it was, but he was alone.
Should she let a guy in here when she was by herself and the resort was half empty? It was too late to pretend no one was here—she was in full view of the door—but she didn’t mind being a little rude.
“Charlotte?” a muffled voice called. “Is the café closed?”
She jumped to her feet, smiling in relief at Luke. She unlocked the front door. “Not exactly, but all I have ready are rolls and coffee. The Bzdyls aren’t here yet.”
“Coffee sounds like heaven.” He stamped his boots on the front walk, then came in. No wonder she hadn’t recognized him. He was in thick black ski gear, with a scarf covering the lower half of his face and a knit cap jammed down on his head as far as it would go.
“What are you doing up here?” she asked, hurrying to pour him a cup. “It’s like a scene from Frozen out there.”
“Maybe I couldn’t let it go.”
She groaned. “That’s practically a dad joke.”
He laughed. “I’m up here because I decided to be a good Samaritan. A lot of people get stuck driving, so I spent the last hour pulling cars out of ditches. I was halfway up the mountain road when the plows passed, so I decided to follow them up and get breakfast.”
“I thought you were meeting your trainer?” She handed him a plate of rolls with butter and jam on the side. “And, sorry, this doesn’t qualify as protein.”
“He’s meeting me this afternoon, so I’ll call it pre-workout carb loading.” He grinned at her, and Charlotte’s heart beat a little faster. Definitely one hell of a smile.
“That’s good of you, going around and doing hero duty,” she said, turning to wipe the counter and hide her blush.
“Not really.” His voice had taken on a dull quality. “I needed to get out of the house. Speaking of which, do you know anyone looking for a roommate? I may be homeless soon.”
She turned back, frowning. “Something happen?”
“It’s a long story,” he said, and his smile turned bleak. It didn’t quite reach his eyes.
She leaned her elbows on the bar, facing him, and wasn’t bothered when his gaze drifted down before snapping back to her face. “I have the time.”
Luke took a long drink of coffee before answering. “I told my mom last night, about dropping out of school. She’s pretty pissed, and she might not let me stay at their place while I’m training. I’ve…disappointed her.”
Charlotte heard the finality of that last sentence and didn’t pry. “That sucks. If I hear about someone needing a roomie, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.” He reached out to touch her hand. “You know, I haven’t even asked you what your last name is.”
“Brown, and you’re the famous Luke Madison.”
He grunted. “Infamous, more like.”
She gave him a sly smile. “Is that what a bunch of girls will tell me?”
“Probably.” He leaned across the bar, too, so that their faces were only six inches apart. “But maybe I want to turn over a new leaf.”
Charlotte let out a slow breath. He was so close, she could see flecks of golden brown in his brown-green hazel eyes. “Change is good for the soul, Luke Madison.”
“Is it, Charlotte Brown?”
Her whole body was focused on slipping closer to his, and her eyes couldn’t leave his mouth. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure anyway.”
Luke braced himself on
his forearms, leaning in. “So how do we start?”
His slow smile lit a bonfire in her brain. “Um, I have no idea.”
“I do.”
Luke lifted a hand to cup her cheek and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, then drew closer and covered her mouth softly with his own.
Oh, sweet Jesus, I’ve missed kissing.
And Luke was damn good at it. He teased her lower lip with his tongue before nipping lightly at it with his teeth. Charlotte had no idea how her knees were still holding her up. She kissed him back, probably too eagerly, but it was so good she couldn’t help herself.
He pulled away, some of his cocky assurance returning, then came around the bar. All Charlotte could do was stare, wide-eyed, as he stepped in close. He drew an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. Without the ski clothes in the way, she could feel hard muscle and strong arms and…
Then he was kissing her again, and it wasn’t some gentle, slow kiss. The hand at the small of her back shifted north, and suddenly she was sandwiched between the bar and his body. Charlotte whimpered. Did she really have to open the café? Her apartment was exactly twelve stairs away. Easy distance, really. They might even make it without having to pull apart. Luke seemed pretty agile—surely he could manage that.
The back door to the café creaked open, then slammed shut. Before Luke could step away, Evangeline came around the corner, tying on her apron. “We finally made it. Char, you wouldn’t believe…”
Evangeline looked back and forth between them, then covered her mouth, her eyes crinkled with mischievous glee. “Maybe we should’ve taken the long way.”
Luke laughed, and Charlotte started pushing him toward the customer side of the bar. “Sorry.” Her cheeks flamed. “I can’t even decide who I’m apologizing to—you, or my cackling best friend.”
“Oh, you don’t have to apologize to me at all,” Evangeline said. “In fact, carry on. I could use a pick-me-up.”
Mr. Bzdyl peeked out from the kitchen, calling, “What’s funny, aniołku ?”
Charlotte dropped her face into her hands.
“Nothing, Papa!” Evangeline sang. “But our hero is here, and Charlotte gave him rolls and coffee.”
Mr. Bzdyl came over and held out his hand to Luke. “Thanks for taking care of our lovely Charlotte. You want eggs?”
Luke shook his hand. “Uh, yeah, that’d be great.” He shot Charlotte a hungry look that didn’t look like it had anything to do with breakfast. “Scrambled?”
“With bacon!” Mr. Bzdyl held up a finger. “What’s breakfast without pig?”
“Pork, Papa.” Evangeline gave him a fond smirk. “It’s pork.”
He flapped his hand at her. “Pig, pork, what do I know except how to cook it?”
When Mr. Bzdyl left, Evangeline started laughing. “You were ‘taking care’ of her, all right.”
Luke winked. “What does ‘aniołku’ mean?”
“Little angel,” Evangeline said, flushing a little. “Totally wasted on me, though.”
She sashayed back into the kitchen, waving over her shoulder, and Charlotte gave Luke an embarrassed shrug. “She’s an acquired taste.”
“I like her.” He tore bits off his roll. “I’m glad you’re here, though. I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner sometime.”
“Ah, we’re back to the ‘asking Charlotte out until she says yes’ bit again.” She smiled, listening intently to the devil on her shoulder. The one who said she needed to live a little, to let this crazy-ish snowboarder—who had such a lovely dash of Boy Scout—work his way into her life. Couldn’t you study too much? Maybe taking a break would help. The kissing most definitely would, she bet.
“I guess you won’t have to ask anymore. Because…yes.”
Chapter Eleven
Luke
Luke froze, all his arguments to convince Charlotte still on his tongue. “You will?”
Like that didn’t sound completely desperate. What’s wrong with you?
She chuckled. “Yeah. You passed Mr. Bzdyl’s test—I guess I can give you some time.”
Luke couldn’t decide if he was stung or flattered by that. “How do you know I passed?”
“He’s making you bacon. That’s a compliment.” She smiled, and it lit her up from the inside.
Charlotte was gorgeous, but not in the same gleaming, plastic way most of the socialites on the mountain were. Not blond, not perfectly made up, not stick-thin and sculpted by an expensive Pilates trainer. No, this girl had a pen stuck through her messy bun with golden brown hair spilling out, reading glasses clipped to her apron, warm brown eyes, and a curvy figure Aphrodite would kill for. The kind of girl who had plans beyond which party she’d go to this weekend. Normally, Luke wouldn’t go after her type, knowing these girls were looking for someone who could both keep up and stick around.
He hadn’t been kidding about the whole turning over a new leaf thing, though. And it felt good to smile and flirt, to kiss a girl who seemed to genuinely enjoy it rather than put on the sexy vixen pout like it was a movie. Charlotte had responded like a rosebush in desperate need for sun and rain.
Spectacular.
Luke needed some spectacular—that was for damn sure. He’d gotten up at six thirty to be gone before anyone else woke up, deciding to do cardio until Michael showed at the gym. When he’d seen the text and checked out the drifts at the side of the house, he’d gone out looking for stranded drivers just for something to do. There were two suitcases in the back of his Jeep, even now, in case his parents said he couldn’t come back home.
“That’s not usually the reaction a girl likes when she accepts a date,” Charlotte said, cutting into his thoughts. “You look like you’re being forced to drink ouzo.”
He grimaced. “Ouzo is pretty bad.” Why couldn’t he get himself together? “Sorry—my mind went somewhere dark for a second. I’m glad you said yes.”
She raised an eyebrow, this delicate arch that looked both kissable and skeptical at the same time. “You sure?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. Yeah, he’d definitely have to kiss that sweet, skeptical eyebrow sometime soon. “Absolutely.”
She didn’t look totally convinced, but the bell dinged over the front door and a woman cried, “Oh, thank God. Someone’s open and there’s coffee.”
Charlotte snorted. “That’s my cue. I’ll be back with your food in a sec.”
She bustled off, pulling the pen out of her bun and calling out a welcome to the well-dressed couple waiting for a table. Luke watched her go. If skiers were beginning to show up on the mountain, maybe he could get in a good, hard run. Fresh powder, especially stuff this deep, made things pretty interesting. He needed to keep moving so he could stop thinking.
By the time Mr. Bzdyl brought out a steaming plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and a side of fruit, both Charlotte and Evangeline were busy with tables. “Do you have more staff?” Luke asked. “They’re pretty busy.”
“We’re working on it,” the man said in his heavy accent. “Hard to find servers this time of year. We have some temps who cover for the girls’ days off, but no one wants full-time during ski season. Why, you need a job?”
Luke stared down at his eggs. “I might.”
“Come see me first.” Mr. Bzdyl patted his arm. “I’ll teach you how to make espresso drinks. Ladies would like to be served coffee from you, I bet.”
Chuckling, the man went back into the kitchen. Luke just shook his head and started to eat. Like usual, the food was outstanding—simple, but so good. The fact that it was free was even better. Especially since he couldn’t be sure if he’d be on a serious budget soon.
Was it worth it?
He’d asked himself that question a thousand times last night. His mother’s expression almost made him change his mind, but then he’d think of the adrenaline-spiking thrill of smoking Tucker on the course, knowing that his times were good enough to make the team. He couldn’t give this up. It meant too much. And he had som
e money from the trust fund his grandfather had left him. It had reverted to him on his birthday. Most of it was going for lift tickets, his gym membership, entry fees, and Michael’s time, though.
Luke sighed. He’d figure it out. One way or another.
Charlotte came back over to refill his coffee cup. “When did you want to go out?”
She asked the question like it was no big deal, but her hand was shaking and her cheeks were flushed. He straightened up on his barstool. “Tonight?”
“Not wasting any time, huh?” She put a hand on her hip. “Worried I’ll back out?”
“No.” And he wasn’t, cocky as it might sound. There was a spark catching between him and this girl. He knew it, and he knew she did, too. “I’ll pick you up at, say, seven? Or is that too late? I know you get up early.”
She bit her lip, and he wished he could pull her back into his arms. God, she’d felt perfect up against him earlier. Soft, melting, like she’d been waiting forever instead of a few days.
Finally, she nodded. “Seven’s good. Don’t worry about driving all the way up here, though. I’ll meet you.”
“I’m picking you up, Charlotte.” Luke turned on a good dose of charm. “I don’t mind the drive when there’s a beautiful girl at the finish line.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was trying not to laugh. “You’ve picked someone up at a bar with that line, haven’t you?”
He mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key, and this time she did laugh. “I solemnly swear I’ve never used that exact line,” he said.
“Nice to be unique.” She nodded. “See you at seven, then. I need to get back to work before Mr. Bzdyl fires me.”
“Never going to happen, lovely Charlotte!” Mr. Bzdyl called from the kitchen.
She groaned. “God, did he hear all that?”
“Yes! You should go out with the nice boy.” Her boss leaned out of the kitchen door. “And Evangeline’s saying she’ll open in the morning so you can stay out later.” He glowered at Luke. “But not so late, yeah?”
Luke felt a slight pang of fear—this man’s glower packed a punch. It had been a long time since a “dad” had given Luke a shake. “Yes, sir.”
Crazy Love Page 6
