“First of all, you’re going to have to change your attitude,” he said.
Her eyes widened in full-on irritation, but he gave her a little shrug as if to say, I’m serious about this.
She drew in a breath, one that was undoubtedly meant to calm her down, and the expression on her face softened. Barely.
“There,” he said. “That’s better. Now you’re ready to learn.”
“Are you going to spend the entire time talking to me like I’m seven?”
“If you act like a seven-year-old, I’m going to treat you like one,” he said, doing his very best not to crack a smile. He failed. After all, the whole scene in front of him—her in her marshmallow ski gear, at the top of a hill next to six very small humans who seemed to be catching on at an alarming rate—was amusing.
“I’m an adult,” she muttered. “Why am I putting up with this?”
“Because you’re an adult who hasn’t done anything fun in—how old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Twenty-eight years.”
“Very funny.”
“Am I wrong?”
“Yes,” she said. “You are. I’ve had plenty of fun.”
“What’s the most fun thing you’ve ever done?”
Her face fell and she shook her head, as if to let him know she wasn’t going to tell him.
“What was it? Something shocking? Skinny-dipping in Lake Michigan, maybe?”
She shot him a look.
“Come on. You thought of something.”
She surveyed his face for a moment, then looked away. “Honestly, going to the flower market with my mom when I was little. We used to go every Saturday, and she’d pick out the most gorgeous flowers—different ones that we couldn’t get just anywhere. I told her that one day I was going to have a flower truck. Sell flowers right out of the back of it—the kind of flowers we got at the market.” She looked away. “She laughed and said it was the craziest and best idea she’d ever heard of, and when I was old enough, she’d buy me an old Volkswagen and we’d turn it into a flower truck together.”
Grady watched her as she quietly shut down, realizing, as he knew she would, that she’d just shared something she hadn’t meant to share. With him.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why I just told you that.”
“Why didn’t you buy the truck?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Seemed like a stupid idea once I grew up. And besides, my mom was long gone.”
“Here,” he tugged the zipper of her coat up to the top. “The wind can be brutal.” He found her eyes, but he didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t have much advice when it came to relationships or forgotten dreams. After all, he was trying to dig his own out from the rubble of the mess he’d made.
He shook the moment away. “Well, if that’s the most fun thing you can remember, you’re in for something awesome,” he said. “Because once you get the hang of this, you’re going to know how it feels to be free. You’ll be hooked.”
“I’m just hoping I’ll still be in one piece,” she said.
“I’ll make sure you are.”
And he vowed to keep that promise, on the slopes and off. He suddenly had the inexplicable desire to protect feisty, maddening Quinn Collins.
And that was a desire he wasn’t accustomed to at all.
CHAPTER
18
“FIRST YOU NEED TO LEARN TO MOVE FORWARD IN YOUR SKIS,” Grady said, thankfully changing the subject after her embarrassing outburst about her mother.
She was starting to make a habit of revealing too much of herself to this man. Her only solace was that he’d likely forget all about it in an hour.
Still, she had not meant to broach that subject with him or anyone else. Her mother was on her mind—and some things she couldn’t keep from spilling over.
Slowly, patiently, he taught her how to move in her skis. They skied to a clearing where she could simply use her poles to propel herself forward across the flat land.
“See, that’s not so bad,” he said as she managed to stay upright for longer than five minutes.
Quinn didn’t pretend she’d accomplished anything remotely impressive, though she had to say, it felt good not to be stuck in a snowdrift with small children pointing and laughing.
She’d expected Grady to give up on her almost immediately, but once again, she was wrong about him. He walked her through a number of basic, beginner-type things she was sure he hadn’t thought of in years. Skiing, for him, was clearly second nature—she could see it in the way he moved. Still, that didn’t stop him from breaking things down in a way she understood. He was a good teacher.
Three times, their lesson was interrupted—twice by kids who wanted pictures and autographs and once by a tall, thin blonde who wanted something else entirely. She wore a bright-pink ski outfit with perfectly coordinated boots, gloves, and goggles, her long, curly ponytail so perfect it could’ve been drawn on, like Betty’s in the old Archie comics.
After the woman took a selfie with Grady—who looked unusually uncomfortable—she leaned over and whispered something to him, then sashayed away.
Quinn shook her head.
“What?” His eyes widened.
“I don’t even want to know what she said to you.” Quinn dug her poles into the snow.
He didn’t respond.
“I won’t be offended if you want to go with her.” But I will be really, really annoyed.
“No way,” he said. “We’re learning to ski here.”
Why did she feel relieved by his response?
The lesson continued. He taught her about proper posture, about not leaning backward, and how to stop—in theory. She felt comfortable on the flat ground, but when he suggested they try one of the bunny hills, she bristled.
“I don’t think I’m ready for that,” she said.
He watched her for a few seconds. “You are.”
Going down a bunny hill with a bunch of very small people shouldn’t be that big of a deal. It seemed like a silly thing, really. She was a grown-up. Twenty-eight was practically thirty. That was a real adult age. The bunny hill should not scare her.
But then, neither should leaving Harbor Pointe or getting on an airplane or doing anything outside of her comfort zone. Grady really did have her pegged, didn’t he?
“Come on, killer,” Grady said. “You’ve got this.”
Somehow, Quinn felt like she was standing on one side of a line and Grady was on the other, coaxing her forward. She knew she had a choice. She could stay warm in her comfortable little cocoon, this world she’d built for herself—or she could take one small step toward the unknown.
And who knew what would come after that? It was the not knowing that gave her pause. And it was likely the not knowing that excited Grady.
He stood in front of her, motioning for her to move toward him. “Come on.” He started skiing backward—show-off—and gradually, she started in his direction.
A kid in a green snowsuit zipped past her. Her arms swung around in a circle as she struggled to keep her balance, and remarkably, this time she didn’t fall.
“Look at you,” Grady said. “You’re getting the hang of it.”
She started to move a little more confidently than she had when she’d been pulled away from the chair lift. Beside them, a group of small children giggled. Were they laughing at her? Before she could decide for sure, they all took off down the hill like pro skiers.
They weren’t even afraid of falling.
She wanted to find that inspiring, but instead Quinn’s mind started in with a barrage of fear-invoking thoughts. They could collide with someone else or slide headfirst into a tree. They could tumble head over feet and break multiple bones. But children didn’t think of those things, did they?
“Come on. It’s time,” Grady said. “You’ve got the basics. All that’s left is for you to actually do it.”
She stuck her poles into the ground. “I think maybe this was a bad idea.
Have I made it clear that I’m not very coordinated?”
“Oh, you didn’t have to make it clear.” He laughed.
“See? It’s obvious. I shouldn’t be up here. I’m going to end up breaking my arm. Or worse, my neck. Who will win top prize at the Floral Expo then?”
He frowned. “Top prize?”
She snapped the goggles back down on her face. “Never mind.”
“Are you entering a competition?”
“It’s stupid. Forget it.” She eyed the hill. If she weren’t such a chicken, she’d push herself off just to get away from him. What was with her telling Grady all her secrets today?
“Why do you do that?” He was looking at her—she could feel it.
She kept her gaze ahead at the seemingly insurmountable task in front of her.
“You downplay the things that mean something to you.”
“I do not,” she said. He hardly knew her well enough to make such a broad claim. And why was everyone ganging up on her today? First Carly, now him?
“Is it your design for the carnival?”
She nodded. “Florists all over the state enter their best designs. Judges go around to score them. The Winter Carnival design will be my entry.” There. Nothing but the details. He didn’t have to know all the reasons why it mattered.
“Well, I think it’s great the contest is so important to you, and I think your design is going to win.”
He said it with such assurance, she almost believed him. She would’ve thought he’d make fun of her. Her little flower contest seemed so small next to his Olympic tryout.
“But right now, we need to conquer this hill,” he said.
“I’m going to fall.”
“That’s the spirit.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on her. “Just remember what I taught you. Don’t lean backward, and let your legs do the work.”
“And at the end? What if I can’t stop?”
“We worked on stopping,” he said.
“Going down a hill and stopping is way different than moving across the flat land and stopping.”
“Will you quit stalling?”
She groaned. Her heart was racing, her stomach knotted. She wasn’t sure what made her more uneasy—the thought of getting hurt or the knowledge that she was about to make a fool of herself in front of Grady and everyone else out there.
“You gonna go, Aunt Quinn?” Jaden skied up behind her, turning to stop like it was the easiest thing in the world. Seconds later, Carly appeared at his side. Even she seemed comfortable on her skis.
“She’s gonna go!” Grady called out, then leaned closer to her. “I’ll be right beside you.”
Was that supposed to make her feel better?
“All right,” she finally said. “I’m gonna go.” Her nerves kicked up instantly. “This must seem so silly to you.”
“Why?”
She kept her eyes forward. “The bunny hill? How stupid to be scared of the bunny hill.”
“Hey, we all start somewhere,” he said.
He had no idea how true that was.
“We’ll go together,” he said. “On the count of three.”
“Oh my gosh.” The anticipation of it was getting unbearable now. “Okay, fine. But hurry up before I lose my nerve.”
“Okay, one—” he pulled the goggles over his eyes—“two—” one more look at her—“and three!”
Almost without thinking, she pushed herself over the edge, the sounds of Jaden and Carly cheering behind her. At her side, Grady coasted along as easily as if he were walking across the street. Quinn floundered for a second, glancing at Grady, who reminded her of her posture, which was definitely not what he’d taught her. She leaned forward and picked up a bit of speed, and she turned back and forth to keep from going too fast. He stayed right beside her the whole time.
She coasted along, and for a brief few seconds, she didn’t feel like she was going to crash to the ground. She was staying upright, moving well, even. In fact, she felt almost giddy, like the laugh that bubbled up from inside her wasn’t going to stay inside. The cool wind blew across her face, and while she couldn’t believe it, she actually thought this might be a little bit fun.
But she started to panic when she realized she had two options: 1. Stop or 2. Crash. Stopping, her old nemesis, laughed at her now.
Grady must’ve sensed her fear because he inched closer. “Just turn your toes in,” he reminded her. She knew this wasn’t the way he would stop—he’d do something fancy that would flick snow up at whoever was standing nearby. But she had to stick with the basics, so as they cruised to the bottom of the hill, she did as she was told, and somehow, remarkably, she started to slow down until she wasn’t moving anymore.
Her eyes widened as she stared down at her skis. She’d made it all the way down the hill without falling. Now the laughter escaped. “I did it.”
“You seem surprised.” Grady ignored the looks from the other skiers, who all seemed to be gawking at him.
“I am surprised.” Quinn laughed again. “I’d prepared to somersault all the way down the hill.”
Now he laughed.
Her heart was racing—she wasn’t sure if it was adrenaline or if she was just really out of shape. Either way, she tried to steady her breathing as she pulled off her goggles.
She glanced up at him. “You know, you’re a pretty good teacher.”
“Yeah?”
“If you can get me to ski without breaking a limb, you must be.”
“Well, the day is still young,” he said with a smile.
“Have you thought about it?” she asked. “Coaching, I mean.”
He shrugged. “Not really. Always thought, ‘Those who can’t do, teach.’”
She looked away. “I disagree. I honestly thought you’d get really irritated with me, but you were surprisingly patient. It’s always something to keep in your back pocket—you know, if you need a change down the road or something.”
“Are you giving me a compliment?”
She glanced back and found him goggle-less and grinning. “Oh, please, don’t let it go to your head. It’s not like you don’t have enough people singing your praises out here.”
They headed off, and Quinn handled her skis quite well if she did say so herself.
“I’m just glad you had fun,” Grady said. “You did have fun, didn’t you?”
She smiled. “I did. I can’t believe it, but I did.”
He seemed genuinely happy to hear it.
As they neared the chair lift, Quinn slowed and stared. She’d managed to get herself onto it once before, so she could do it again, right? Because she really wanted to go again.
“You probably want to go with Jaden. I know this place is so boring compared to what you’re used to,” Quinn said.
“Nah, it’s fine. Let’s get up there and do it again.”
“Really?” She tried not to let on how grateful she was, but she wasn’t sure she could find the courage again on her own.
They arrived at the lift at the same time as a rowdy group of young guys. They were laughing, which always made Quinn self-conscious. Maybe they were laughing at her—a grown woman scared of the bunny hill.
Remarkably, she found a way onto the ski lift without Grady’s help, and he took the seat next to her, the rowdy bunch in pairs after them.
When it came time to jump off, Quinn’s heart dropped. She wasn’t good at this part. She slowly edged toward the front of the seat, then slipped off, landing with a thud on her backside. The operator stopped the lift, and instantly, Grady was next to her, hand extended to help her up. Once she was upright, he pulled her out of the way of the lift.
Seconds later, one of the guys behind them started laughing. “I knew Grady Benson was off his game, but dude has been demoted to the bunny hill.”
The sounds of their laughter started to fade as the guys got off the lift and headed in the opposite direction.
She glanced down and realized Grady was still holding on to her hand
. She squinted up at him in the late-morning sunshine.
He watched the guys for several seconds, then looked back at her. He let go of her hand but didn’t say a word.
“You okay?”
He laughed. “I’m fine. I don’t need to prove myself to those morons.”
She eyed him for a second but eventually accepted it. Were professional athletes as used to trash talk as they were to the endless gaping? And why was Grady suddenly able to brush it off?
“Besides,” he said, “those guys are just jealous.”
“Jealous?”
“Because I get to spend the day with the prettiest girl here.”
She could feel her surprise register on her face. Was he talking about her? He didn’t even like her. And she was probably blushing over the compliment too. Shoot!
He was just trying to get on her good side. She reminded herself he needed her to speak with the judge if he had any hope of getting what he really wanted—a quick ticket out of Harbor Pointe.
And yet, as she stood at the top of the hill, ready to ski down again, her knees turned to Jell-O and she became hopelessly aware of the attention of the man at her side.
CHAPTER
19
GRADY SPENT THE BETTER PART OF HIS DAY giving advice to Jaden and Quinn, and while he was happy to do it, being on the slopes—but not really—was hard for him. He hadn’t trained in a week, and as someone who was used to being out there every day, he missed it.
Still, Quinn’s comment about keeping the idea of coaching in his back pocket suddenly felt less like an insult to his abilities and more like a viable option. Down the road, after he won gold at the Winter Games.
He never would’ve considered it if she hadn’t made it sound so . . . admirable.
He shoved the thought aside now as he skied slowly alongside her, marveling at the fact that she’d smiled more this morning than she had the entire time he’d known her—which, admittedly wasn’t very long. Had he really only been in Harbor Pointe for a week?
When Quinn decided she’d had enough, she told Grady to go find Jaden. “I’ll head back to the lodge and turn in my skis.”
“You sure?”
Just Let Go Page 18
