by Jill Shalvis
“Well,” Ally broke in with a bright sweetness. “I look forward to working with you.”
Chance watched with some amusement as Brian started to shrug again and stopped. In fact, he didn’t snarl or swear, as was his habit. So far, only Lucy had managed to garner that much respect from him.
Then Brian gave Chance the sneer he’d spared Ally. “Can you really snowboard?”
“Yeah.” He refrained from adding that he’d been a pro. “How about you?”
“Are you kidding?” Brian slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I could go on the circuit if I wanted.”
“Uh-huh.” Chance shook his head, unimpressed. “Hard to do that from jail.”
“I won’t be in jail.”
Chance hoped to hell not, but he had his doubts. Brian had grown up neglected and abused. By the time he’d turned seven, he’d been on the wrong side of the law. He’d already been arrested twice. He was sorely lacking in a positive role model, or any sense of direction for his life. Chance could only hope the mountain pounded some into him.
“Well, I know I could use help,” Ally said. “I know next to nothing about the great outdoors. Are you going to be available?”
Brian seemed fascinated by this. “You’re going to be the boss and you don’t know what you’re doing?”
She smiled, and again, it was a stunner. Her eyes glowed, her face lit up, and Chance found himself purposely looking away because he didn’t want any spark of attraction clouding his brain and getting in the way of his simmering resentment. No, he was going to hold on to that for all he was worth.
“That’s why I’ll need a really great staff,” she said.
Brian shot an indecipherable glance at Chance, then stared at the ground. “I’m not staff. Not really.”
“Maybe that could change.”
Now she was looking at Chance, too, the both of them waiting with some sort of expectancy that made him groan out loud. “Did you somehow miss the part about why he’s here?”
“No.” Her eyes were full of warmth and compassion. A save-the-world, bleeding heart.
Dammit. “He’s too young,” he said. “Too stubborn.” Though Chance himself had once been both, and Lucy had taken a chance on him. “He doesn’t listen.”
Brian’s eyes flashed. “I will.”
“With or without the attitude?”
“Without,” Brian said between his teeth.
“Then prove it. But it’ll have to be another day. I have to go clear the trails if we’re ever going to open. And you’re going to help,” he said pointing to Brian.
“Me, too,” Ally said.
Couldn’t she see he just wanted to be alone? “In those?” he asked her.
She bent her head and looked down at her open-toed, dainty leather sandals. She wore a silver heart ring on the second toe of her right foot, which for some reason, seemed overwhelmingly sexy.
“I have some tennis shoes in my suitcase,” she said.
He imagined a pair of useless white canvas shoes. “Ah, hell. Go to Ted in the General Store. Tell him to boot you up before you kill yourself. You, too,” he snapped at Brian, who was wearing some sort of ridiculous black vinyl boot. “And hurry it up, would you?”
“You have such a way with children,” Ally said dryly when Brian had left.
“He’s not a child. Probably never was.”
“Funny, I’d have said the same thing about you.” She stared at the mountain, shielding her eyes from the sun. She bit her lower lip.
It was irrational. And really dumb, but Chance suddenly wanted to nibble on that full lip himself. Instead, he turned and walked away.
“Hey!” she called. “Where are you going?”
“Up.”
“Wait for me.”
“No.” But he made the mistake of stopping to glance at her.
She looked as if someone had taken away her lollipop. Sweet. Innocent. Hopeful. He groaned out loud.
“I’m tougher than I look.”
“That’s good,” he said. “You’re going to need it. But you’re still not coming with me, Ally. I’ve got all I can handle with Mr. Tough Guy.”
She looked surprised at his use of her name, which he’d studiously avoided until now. “Brian’s probably had good reason to be tough,” she said.
“Yes.” He hadn’t expected her to be so insightful, though she was looking at him curiously, as if she could read him as well as she could Brian.
What did she see when she looked at him like that anyway? Telling himself he didn’t care, he took his radio off his belt and radioed for Jo, his assistant, to come get her.
Let someone else take baby-sitting duty. He was done.
“I bet the two of you are a lot alike,” Ally said. “You and Brian.”
“That’s ridiculous.” And insulting. “He’s just a kid.”
“He clearly idolizes you. Wants to do what you do. That’s a big responsibility. And dangerous, I imagine, given your apparent lifestyle.”
“I don’t want him trying to be me.”
“I can see that.” She slipped off his jacket and handed it back to him, leaving her standing there in her defiance and thin blouse. Her nipples pressed against the fabric, and his body stood up and took notice, further aggravating his temper.
Though she barely came to his shoulders, she kept her chin raised defiantly, despite the goose bumps all over her now. “Take it.”
Take it.
Take her.
He had no idea where that irrational thought came from, but there it was, plastered across his brain, the image of him doing just that, taking her, her mouth wet from his, her eyes glazed over as he gripped her hips and—
He shook his head to clear it and grabbed his jacket. Already it held her scent, a light flowery one that was a complete contradiction of sweet sexiness, and as it had when he’d first looked into her eyes at the airport, his chest tightened.
Damn you, Lucy, he thought. What are you trying to do to me?
4
ALLY EXPECTED JO, Chance’s assistant, to be every bit as overtly male as Chance.
But Jo turned out to be short for Josephine, and while she wasn’t a man, she was tough as nails. Barely five feet tall, with bright red, curly hair that bounced with every step, Jo moved like lightning and talked at the speed of sound.
“We’ll get you geared up, but first let me fill you in,” Jo said after their brief introduction from the now vanished Chance, who’d ditched Ally at his first opportunity.
Ally grumbled to herself about being deserted, but had to admit, the disgruntlement might have come from witnessing the enthusiastic hug Jo had given Chance, the one where she’d pressed herself against him like a suction cup.
He hadn’t seemed to mind in the least.
Ally told herself she didn’t care, but she had no intention of staying behind while he went up the mountain. Nope, she was going, too.
Jo was still talking ninety miles an hour. “I’ve got your calendar for the week, and all the phone messages that have to be returned.” The rest of her words were tossed over her shoulder as she headed toward the lodge steps, leaving Ally no choice but to run to keep up, straining to hear her words.
Jo just kept talking, not even looking back as they ran up the steps into the huge open-beamed lodge. “There’s a stack of stuff that needs a quick reading and your signature.” She made a sharp right and went up more stairs. As she moved, she consulted a clipboard. “There’s five potential staff members to interview, that land permit to check over, and the new trails to discuss before mapping. After that you can talk to the fire inspector about your upcoming meeting and…”
Ally missed the next words due to the fact they were on their third flight of stairs and she was barely keeping up. She stopped for a second, her hand to her chest, sucking air into her poor lungs, wondering how long it would take her to get used to the high altitude, when Jo called out from the landing above.
“Where a
re you?”
“Here,” Ally huffed, rolling her eyes at the slight irritation in the other woman’s voice. Apparently they were all superhuman athletes here in Wyoming. “Coming!”
When she got to the third floor, Jo was just disappearing into the second office down the hall. By the time Ally got there, still panting as if she’d run a marathon, Jo was sitting in a chair next to a large desk, furiously scribbling notes and still talking as if Ally had been right behind her all the time.
“Oh,” Jo said, startled, looking up. “What was the holdup?”
Ally dropped into a chair and struggled to catch her breath. “You’re kidding me.”
Jo didn’t crack a smile.
Perfect. Attila the Hun. “I don’t seem to be in quite the same physical peak that you are.” Though she would be, come hell or high water. She was going to do whatever it took to do this right.
“You’re out of shape?” Jo looked over Ally’s body with a trained eye, and Ally squirmed, knowing what she saw—too many soft curves instead of tight, toned muscle.
Could she help it she favored cholesterol over exercise?
“What is it that you do again?” Jo asked politely.
“I’m a librarian.” Was a librarian, she reminded herself, with the familiar pang for the loss of the job she’d loved. For the loss of life as she’d known it.
No matter. She was now going with gusto. Soon as she could breathe again, that is.
“I meant what do you do for exercise?”
“Oh. Um…” How to admit that exercise had always been at the bottom of her priority list, right next to getting her annual flu shot?
“You don’t do any of it, do you?” Jo seemed disgusted. “No running, no swimming, no biking, nothing. I think I knew the truth when you put your jacket on the ski rack instead of the coatrack.”
“Dead giveaway, huh?” Ally winced. “Well you might as well know right up front, I don’t know much about this outdoor stuff, but I’m a quick learner.” She smiled in what she hoped was a nonworried manner. “I’ll be fine.”
Jo remained unconvinced. “Chance is swamped right now. We’re understaffed and overworked, and he’s picking up all the slack.”
“That’s why I’m here. I’m going to start helping right now. I’m going with him to work on the fire-damaged trails.”
“He’s not going to like being held by back a novice climber.”
Climbing? Not just walking up a nice, tidy path but climbing? Oh boy. Adventure number one, here she came. “Lucy asked me to help. I don’t intend to be a burden. I want to lighten the load, not make it worse.”
“Uh-huh.” Jo’s tone implied she doubted Ally would be much help in easing anyone’s burden. “With Lucy in the hospital, Chance hasn’t had a moment to himself to even breathe, and trust me on this one, he likes his time alone.”
Gee, Ally hadn’t noticed. “Like I said, I plan to help.”
“The work is not only time consuming, but dangerous. And he’s got Brian to deal with, dogging his heels, trying to match his every move—”
“That sounds even more dangerous.”
“No kidding. The kid is trouble.”
Ally reminded herself that she was no longer trying to save the world, no matter how much her heart squeezed. And it wasn’t just Brian it squeezed for, but Chance, too. He might be tough, and gorgeous, but there was something in his dark eyes that called to her.
She hoped to ignore that call. “Maybe with an extra person around to help watch out for Brian, things will be smoother.”
“Hmmph.”
Ally’s automatic apology for being who and what she was sat right on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it. She would not be a mouse, never again. “I may not know what I’m doing, Jo, but I can assure you, I intend to learn.”
Jo softened slightly. “Well at least you have the best mountain manager available. Chance’ll cover you, whether he likes it or not. He won’t let anything happen to anyone on his turf.”
Was he really that good at his job, or was Jo’s clear adoration something more? Ally told herself she didn’t care, but she couldn’t get that hug Jo had given Chance out of her head. What would it be like to be plastered against that amazing body of his? “Has he been here long?”
“Ten years. His exploits on this mountain are legendary.”
“He must have started young.”
“Lucy once told me he came here before he was twenty, and as green as can be.” Jo smiled. “Hard to imagine Chance being green at anything.”
“But even he had to start somewhere.” Ally leaned forward earnestly, never more determined. “I can do this, Jo. I understand your reservations, but I’m going to make this work.”
Maybe she’d failed at being a librarian. At being a girlfriend. At just about everything so far, but she wouldn’t fail at this, whether they believed in her or not. “Just show me where to gear up. And I’ll be ready to go.”
IT TOOK LESS THAN five minutes in the lodge shop to realize every single staff member—the same who had looked at Ally with their polite, distant and disappointed smiles—absolutely revered one T. J. Chance.
They respected him, emulated him.
Loved him.
If she could accomplish a fraction of that in her time here, she’d be ecstatic. By the time she got outside, wearing her new boots, leggings and a T-shirt layered with a lightweight jacket, Chance was gone.
“He just left,” she was told when she asked about him.
Not a surprise. Determined, she took off on the trail pointed out to her, running, hoping to catch him.
Which she did, literally, only a moment later, when she came around a blind turn and plowed right into the back of six feet two inches of bad attitude.
“Sorry,” she said when he whipped around to glare at her. But she wasn’t sorry, not really. If anything, she was feeling that funny weak-knee thing again. And all because her hands had slid over his warm, solidly muscled back. Her nose twitched for another sniff of his skin. “You didn’t wait for me.”
He just looked at her.
“But I found you anyway.”
“Yippee.” He rolled his shoulders, as if just her presence brought him tension. “Now you can go back.”
“No.”
He sighed as if in great suffering. “Then stay out of the way.”
“But I’m going to help.”
A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth, and in response, she sent him a sweet but determined smile.
“Grab a shovel,” he growled, pointing to where there was a small clearing. There were tools lying in boxes. “On the other side of that is the first foot trail, which can’t be cleared by machine. There’s already a few guys there working, including Brian.”
“Okay.” But he was already moving away from her. So she purposely switched her attention from him to her surroundings. The flames had wrought destruction all around her, taking away lush, healthy mountain side, leaving a charred, blackened, silent mess. It made her feel a terrible sadness.
Grabbing a shovel, she started in silence, sobered by the sight and how much work was in front of all of them. She thought of Lucy, and how worried she was, and that worry became Ally’s, because she’d promised to help. She intended to keep that promise.
But after two minutes of lifting the shovel, her shoulders already hurt. She distracted herself by watching Chance attack his area.
She couldn’t help herself.
The way his arms worked, muscles straining, skin tanned and taut and damp, was distracting. Up and down, he wielded that shovel, clearing the trail with a single-minded determination, never hesitating. It was mesmerizing, the way he was in total command of himself and all around him. It fascinated her.
He fascinated her.
Then his broad shoulders straightened as if he’d drawn a deep breath. He paused, feet wide apart, his hair blowing about his shoulders, surveying the destroyed land before him. Burnt pines towered above, shading him, throwing
him in shadow, but she had no trouble sensing his deep sorrow. Then he turned and looked right at her.
She didn’t look away, she couldn’t. They just stood there for a long, tense moment, connected in some strange way she didn’t understand. Then someone called him, and with one last unreadable glance, he walked away. His T-shirt clung to his back, and was shoved into those battered jeans so worn in all the right places. He could have been a model right off the pages of a glossy men’s magazine.
Then she realized he was leaving. “Where are you going?” she called out.
He didn’t so much as slow down.
So she dropped her shovel and ran after him. “Chance?”
He kept walking, forcing her to run to keep up with him. “To check on the higher portion of this trail.”
Higher portion…sounded interesting. Her sense of adventure soared, filled her with giddy joy. “Are we going to leap off any cliffs?” she asked hopefully.
Chance stopped, then turned around and sent her a baleful look.
“Because I saw this outdoor show on the Discovery Channel one time,” she told him eagerly. “And they showed how to—”
“We’re not hucking anyone off a cliff today.” He started walking again. “Especially not you.”
“But—”
He stopped short, and once again, she plowed into the back of him. Because it had felt so wonderful before, she made sure to touch his back with both hands.
It still felt wonderful.
He turned on her. “Look, I realize your cabin doesn’t get cable. Maybe you can buy a book and read about adventures instead.”
“I can handle this,” she said to his retreating back, wiping sweat from her brow because it was darn hot. “I could—” She stopped talking because he whipped off his shirt, apparently as hot as she was, and stuffed a corner of it into his back pocket.
She nearly stopped breathing. She’d known he was leanly muscled, perfectly defined. Magnificent. But she hadn’t been prepared for him half-naked. Her fingers actually itched to touch, and she wondered if she ran into him yet again, if he’d know what she was up to.
It had to be the altitude, she decided. All the fresh air was going directly to her head.
