“Despite what men want to think, boob pics aren’t a thing most women do. We just don’t. Second, you have and you did.”
“Refresh my memory.” She ignores my eager expression.
“I’m not flashing you in the middle of the gondola.”
“We’re the only ones in here.” I give her puppy eyes. “Come on, I’m not really asking you to show me your boobs right now. That’s not what I meant. I have an excellent recall.”
“Do you?” She looks doubtful.
I nod. “An almost photographic memory.”
Now I’m openly baiting her. After kissing her at La Belle Femme, if she did, wouldn’t she say something? Either she doesn’t remember or won’t admit she kissed me without knowing my name two years ago and I’m tired of pretending it never happened.
We only have a few minutes until we reach Elk Camp. I sip my coffee, letting her stew for a minute. She could melt steel with her stare, but I refuse to face her. Instead, I gaze out the windows at the snowy wonderland below us.
With a huff, she drinks her coffee. In fact, she guzzles it like it’s a shot. Maybe her cup has booze and mine is only coffee.
“Unbelievable,” she mutters and shifts farther away in the seat from me.
“Mara?” I continue looking out the windows. “If you for one more minute believe I don’t remember meeting you at the Onion two years ago, you’re a fool. Do you want me to describe our first kiss? Because I can. In detail. You were standing above me on a bar, like a siren calling all the men in the place to you in your sparkly dress. One minute you were unattainable, the next you were kissing me. You made me feel like the luckiest guy in the place. Crazy, unexpected, and I wanted you from the second you landed in my arms.”
Her coffee cup hovers near her open mouth as I lean close and lower my voice. “I can still taste the sweetness of your mouth and the feel of your curves in my hands.”
I’m close enough to hear her gasp.
“For some reason, you’re pretending we’ve never met before. Either I’m forgettable or you’re ashamed. I highly doubt the former is true, and if the latter is the issue, life’s too short for shame. I don’t regret a single thing about that night. Or kissing you in the restaurant.”
She meets my eyes for a brief moment and then studies her cup. “What about Willow?”
“What about her?” I’m confused.
She frowns and won’t look at me.
I duck into her sight line. “You’ve lost me.”
“Isn’t she your girlfriend?”
A low laugh of disbelief gets stuck in my throat. “Wrong Hayes brother. She’s a friend.”
“I saw you together in Aspen.” She confesses to being in the crowd the night of the party. “You looked … close on the red carpet. Then the tabloids called you a couple.”
“We’ve never been anything more than friends.” I pick up one of her curls and twist it around my finger. “You ran away before I could introduce you.”
Her eyes widen. “Why would you do that?”
“I wanted Willow to meet you.” I continue playing with her curl, pulling it straight before releasing it.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve known her most of my life, but she doesn’t come home often. She might be a famous actress now, but she’ll always be little foul-mouthed Willow, and my brother Cody’s high school girlfriend to me. I can admire her beauty, but she’s like a kid sister. Never going to cross that line.”
When Mara’s confused, an adorable crinkle appears between her eyebrows. “Why would you want me to meet her? We just met.”
“That’s not a hundred percent true.” I lean closer, feeling her breath against my mouth.
“Which part?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“We hadn’t just met. You crashed back into my life.” I stare at her lips for a beat and then take her gloved hand in mine. “I do have one regret when it comes to the night we met. I regret leaving in the morning without waking you up and getting your number. At the time I thought life was pointless and the only way to live was in the moment. You weren’t going to stay and us ever seeing each other again felt like an impossibility.”
“You left a note.”
“You do remember.” I finally meet her eyes again.
Her tongue wets her bottom lip and she nods.
The tension between us grows with every inhale and unsteady exhale. Unable to resist her, I press a soft kiss against the corner of her mouth.
“I’ve never had a kiss like that.” My lips hover with hers.
“Me neither.” Her voice is hushed, lost in memory. “I thought I’d imagined it, but then you kissed me again at the restaurant. I’ve never been kissed the way you kiss me.”
It’s all the encouragement I need. I close the distance between us and crash my mouth against hers, enveloping her in my arms. She clutches my shoulders with her gloves. Parting her lips, she slips her tongue into my mouth. She tastes of coffee and the same sweetness I remember. My memory might be good, but it doesn’t compare to the reality of kissing her again. I nip her plump bottom lip like I’ve wanted to do since I escorted her off of the mountain.
Lost in her, I barely notice when the gondola slows. The cold air from the open doors announces our arrival.
“Hold the thought.” I give her one last peck on the lips before standing and lifting her by the hand. Giving her my coffee, I collect both our skis and poles.
“Can we skip the brush with death and the adrenaline rushes for more kissing?” she asks as she trails behind me.
Chuckling, I hand over her skis. “No.”
She puts on her gloves and clasps her poles. “I know of a much better way to get our blood pumping.”
Her wiggling eyebrows make me laugh. “You’re adorable.”
“Trying to be sexy here.” She pushes out her full bottom lip.
Seeing her pout as an invitation, I gently bite her lip. “You’re both. Sexy and adorable is a perfect combination.”
“You won’t think so when I’m a sweaty, incoherent mess in the middle of a panic attack.” She’s serious.
“I’ve got you.” I push one of her curls away from her face. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Her lids flutter closed and she leans her cheek against my hand. “Promise?”
“Promise.” I give her a soft kiss, barely brushing my tongue inside of her mouth.
“Get a room,” a group of kids no taller than my elbow shout as they shove past us to get to the slopes.
“Little assholes,” I whisper against Mara’s lips, unwillingly to let punk elementary kids ruin my moment. “Come on. I promise to make it good for you.”
She moans against my mouth and then she stills before opening her eyes. “You mean skiing, don’t you?”
“Don’t sound so disappointed.” After giving her one more peck, I push off on my skis. “Trust me.”
I take us down a few blue runs, then we take the lift over to High Alpine. My goal is to build up her confidence on a few easy blues in preparation for a more expert run. I know she can handle it.
There’s a short wait for the quad up to Big Burn and I use the opportunity to kiss her in line. She’s glowing with confidence after today’s skiing. I love seeing her smile and the way her eyes almost close when she really grins. I’m falling for her hard and fast, but can’t seem to care.
I fight the urge to end our ski date early and take her somewhere more private. For a brief moment, I even consider bringing her to one of the ski patrol shacks or finding a warming hut on the mountain, but neither of those promise privacy.
Instead, I’ll settle for sitting next to her and spending time together in the sun.
“What are your feelings about eating at almost twelve thousand feet?” I ask
“Is this a euphemism for sex?” Her dark lashes flutter in surprise, but her grin is mischievous.
I choke on nothing and cough out a laugh. “No, I’m talking a
bout pizza. I’m starved.”
Embarrassment floods her cheeks with color. “Please ignore that comment.”
Once we’re on the lift, I give her a quick kiss. “You have a dirty mind.”
I swear she mumbles, “If you only knew” under her breath, but when I ask her to repeat it, she refuses.
“I can’t wait to find out.” Slinging my arm behind her shoulders, I pull her closer.
“Do you know the Mushers Kennel?” Mara asks as she steals my crust. She thinks she’s being sly, but I’ve never been a fan. She’s doing me a favor.
We’re sitting next to each other in the sun on the deck outside. This day is pretty close to perfect. We’ve spent an hour getting to know each other, sharing details of where we grew up and our families in between eating and quick kisses. I skip over the details about Cody, focusing the conversation on her stories.
“Everyone in town knows about them. They’ve been around for decades. Why do you ask?”
“Have you ever visited the kennels?” She dips her stolen crust into a little plastic cup of ranch dressing.
After wadding up my napkin, I toss it on my plate. “No, but they’re popular with the tourists. People have a romanticized idea based on the Iditarod and Jack London novels they read as a kid.”
“We’re working with them to make sure the dogs aren’t being abused.” Her eyes cloud with the sadness.
“Mistreated? How?” I bristle at the idea of animal cruelty and sit up straight.
“Not enough rest time, inadequate shelters, untreated injuries, and inbreeding are the typical issues.” Her voice switches tone to sound more detached and professional.
“Are you going out there on your own?” I know the family who runs the kennel. They’re good people, but probably won’t welcome a stranger walking around the property. Like ranchers, they’re private folks with an independent streak. They don’t trust big government and regulations established by people in big cities who’ve never set foot in Colorado. Mara would stick out.
“I’ll go with you. We can drive out there tomorrow.”
“Why do you think I need an escort?” She wipes her hands on a napkin.
“Going with a local might get you more information than you showing up there as a stranger. We take our privacy seriously out here. And a lot of us like our guns.”
Her eyes widen. “You think I’d get shot?”
“No, but I’ve know the family for years. I’ll make the introductions.”
“I wasn’t nervous about asking questions until you brought up the guns.”
“We’ll be fine. They’re good people.”
Who better be treating their dogs right. Or they’ll have more than Mara and Elizabeth to answer to.
She sips her hard cider and leans against the deck railing in the sun. Her golden hair almost glows against the bright blue of the sky.
“Are you staring at me?” she asks with her eyes closed.
“Totally. You’re beautiful.” I rest my head next to hers.
“I’m glad you remember me.” She opens one eye and squints at me.
“I can’t believe you thought I didn’t.”
She leans her head closer to mine. “I have a question.”
Our noses brush we’re so close together. “Ask me.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“I’m not easily shocked. Tell me. Maybe I have the answer.”
“Have we had sex?” she whispers, her focus on my mouth.
Whatever I thought she would ask me, it wasn’t that. Why would she …
“You don’t know?” I’m stunned. How, what, huh, what? Why would she think we’ve had sex? The truth drops on me like a boulder. “You don’t remember.”
“It’s kind of a blur,” she confesses, shy and clearly embarrassed.
For two years, I’ve been dreaming of her kiss while she’s been thinking we had sex and she can’t remember it. I’m going to have to fix this soon.
“We didn’t have sex.” I kiss her soft lips. “I promise when we do, you’ll remember it.”
Chapter 17
Mara: Two Years ago
“MARA.”
“SHH. YOU’LL wake him.”
“Mara.”
“Shh. Go away. We’re naked.”
“Who’s naked?”
“Quit yelling. You’ll wake him up.”
“Mara. You’re dreaming. Open your eyes.” A delicate, not manly hand jostles my shoulder.
“I’m not and I won’t. You’re interrupting.”
The hand tugs off the duvet.
Screaming, I roll over to cover my lover.
I land on cool sheets and nothing but the mattress. Flipping to my back, I cover my boobs and cross my legs. My hands touch cotton fabric. At least I’m not naked.
Finally opening my eyes, I’m greeted with an empty bed and my best friend, Sofie, laughing her ass off.
“Wow. You must have been having one sexy dream,” she barks out between laughs.
I peer over the side of the bed.
“Where’d he go?” The closed en suite door catches my attention.
After scrambling off of the bed, I tiptoe over to the door. I press my ear against the wood to listen for signs of life inside.
“What are you doing?” she half speaks, half laughs.
I wave my arm behind me in the universal gesture of “shut your cakehole so I can snoop.”
Nothing. No running water. No mouth-breathing sounds.
With a light tap on the door, I turn the handle while speaking. “Occupato, Mr. Roboto?”
What’s wrong with me?
The handle gives easily and I swing open the door to an empty room.
Empty except for my clothes from last night in the shower and a big heart drawn on the mirror with the letters J and M in the middle.
“Is that lipstick?” Sofie, being an Amazon, peers over my head. “It better not be my Nars.”
The color does look like Jilted Love.
How appropriate.
I put down the lid and sit on the toilet. My clothes lie in a sad, damp pile. “What happened?”
Sofie frowns at me. “You’re asking me? You don’t remember?”
I shake my head. “It’s all a little blurry. I swear I brought a guy back with me, but apparently not.”
“Hold on.” She leaves the bathroom. I hear her footsteps disappear down the hall.
I jump up and close the door so I can pee in private. Brushing my teeth would be a good idea, too. I’m not sure why, but my mouth tastes like Fruit Loops, wool, and vodka.
Not a great mix.
I stare at my reflection, expecting to see a hot mess, but am greeted by a clean face. No raccoon eyes. No smeared lipstick. Instead of a sad clown, I look pretty normal.
Huh.
Sometimes I amaze myself.
Splashing water on my face, I try to piece together the wee hours of the night.
Despite being convinced I was naked in bed with a man when I woke up, I’m wearing a tank top and my own underwear.
My cheeks have a little beard burn on them, but there’s no other physical sign of a hook up.
I do a mental body check. No weird marks. Or hickeys.
I’ve never blacked out from drinking.
Or had sex and not been able to remember.
In all honesty, I’ve never had a one-night stand before.
I hope if last night was my first, I’d remember.
Retracing the evening’s events, I start at the Onion.
Dancing on the bar.
Diving into the crowd.
Strong arms catching me.
Kissing the gorgeous tall man attached to those arms.
It was a helluva kiss.
He was my kissing soul mate.
I know I didn’t imagine that part.
Then we were outside, mostly talking. Less kissing.
An encore bar.
More dancing.
This time not on a bar.
&nb
sp; Close together.
Like having sex standing up with our clothes on.
I remember a tiny, crowded dance floor in a dark club pulsing with bodies and loud music.
More kissing.
Making out against a door.
Inviting him inside for sex.
Because that was my mission.
I glance in the trash for a telltale sign we had the sex.
The basket is empty except for a few balled-up tissues and a kazoo.
I definitely do not remember the kazoo part of the evening.
I leave the bathroom to search the bedroom, then return for toilet paper. If there’s a condom lying around, I don’t want to touch it.
Sofie finds me on my hands and knees beside the bed. The duvet and pillows sit on the dresser.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for evidence.”
“Of?”
“Sex.”
“Do you want a blacklight?”
We meet eyes and both shudder.
“Wouldn’t you know?”
“You’d think, but I can’t tell.”
“You weren’t naked, and you were alone when I found you.”
“I think he left in the middle of the night.”
“Like dine and dash?”
“More like screw and scram.”
“Or fuck and flee.”
“This isn’t making me feel any better.”
I collapse on the unmade bed.
“Here, I brought you coconut water and drugs.”
“I’ve told you, just because pot is legal in Colorado doesn’t mean I’m going to turn into a stoner.”
“It’s ibuprofen. But I do have some edibles left we need to eat before we board the plane. Or lose them forever.”
I repeat her last sentence in my head. “I did have a guy here last night. I quoted Top Gun at him. Then begged him to end my dry spell.”
“Sounds romantic.”
“The greatest love story ever told.” This is the moment I’d like to bury my head under a pillow, or five, but can’t because I stripped the bed. Instead, I groan and throw my arm over my face.
Crazy Over You (Love with Altitude #2) Page 12
