The Sport of Romance: A Multi-Author Box Set

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The Sport of Romance: A Multi-Author Box Set Page 60

by Cari Quinn


  He leans back in the chair and chuckles. “Exactly! I like that. So, I think I’ll take you on a few warm-up runs first. We meet with the director, Matt, at ten.”

  It’s all or nothing. Clara assured me Tim thought I was a shoe-in for a kid’s instructor job. Especially since he is the supervisor for that part of the ski school. Yet I can’t help be nervous. Skiing is a bit of a man’s world, and women only impress when they can keep up with the boys. I have skied with the guys most of my life and am as fast as most of them. I just don’t always look that good. I hope this isn’t quite the testosterone fest I fear.

  A few quick runs and my spirits are high. Blaine led most of the way and I’m thankful. I know his day is all about watching people ski and making them better. It makes me a bit self-conscious because I know I don’t have perfect form. He, on the other hand, is a joy to watch. Bumps are my thing, and I didn’t mind when he stopped to let me pass. I even got an appreciative “Nice!” as I went by.

  “Casey, you will be just fine. You ski well, and with a little fine tuning, you could be a top adult instructor if you wanted.”

  “Really? Thanks.” I can’t help it. I have a big, silly grin on my face. Blaine sure knows how to make people feel good. I’m glad I get to spend the afternoon with him.

  Dropping me off with Matt, Blaine tells me we’ll meet for lunch. Two hours later, I’m walking on cloud nine. I have a job for next winter! Matt told me I could teach kids or adults. I can’t believe it. A few more months and I can hang up my toilet brush. I practically skip over to Blaine in the lodge.

  “I’m going to guess it went well. You’re smiling from ear-to-ear.”

  I throw my gloves down on the table. “Kids or adults. How fantastic is that?”

  “Nice job.” He has stripped down to his ski pants and turtleneck, a rather tight turtleneck that shows off his fine-tuned body.

  I sit down at the table with him and take a sandwich out of my pocket. He looks over at me with a smile. “My kind of girl. Whatcha got?” He reaches in his coat pocket for a sandwich of his own.

  “Peanut butter and jelly, you?” I take a bite.

  “Same.”

  “I know I’m kind of intense here, but could we just fill our water and eat on the chair? I’m dying to just ski.”

  He tilts his head to the side and stares at me.

  “I’m sorry. We can eat here. It’s fine.” I shake my head and put down my wrapper.

  “No. I was just thinking. You aren’t what I expected. You seem too girly to be such a trouper. I’m surprised, that’s all.” He returns his lunch to its ziplock bag.

  “Girly?” Having not taken much clothing off, I get up from the table and start to walk away. After a few steps, I turn back toward Blaine. “Coming?”

  He gathers up his gear. “Hang on. Geesh. Women!”

  I laugh as I walk out the door into the bright sunshine.

  It is a mind-blowing afternoon. I spend most of my time just following Blaine as he takes me all over the mountain. We ski trees and backcountry areas I never would have ventured into on my own. At one point I fly off a cliff before I know what’s happening. It’s apparent when I crash-land, ripping off equipment and gear. I’ll be a little sore tomorrow, but it was worth it.

  “I know some great places for happy hour. Want to go?” Blaine asks. He has unzipped his jacket and taken off his helmet. I smell his musky, spiced scent and it’s tantalizing.

  “If you’re okay with a nondrinker, I’d love to go.” I wipe the snow off my skis.

  “You don’t drink? I thought you were drinking wine with Clara.” He hoists his skis over his shoulder.

  I look at him. “I live in a boarding house, and the lady that runs it has strict rules. I can only drink on sleepovers.” Great, that sounds like I’m inviting myself to sleep over. A flush heats up my face.

  “Let’s do hot chocolate instead. We can go to one of the more expensive hotels and sit by a fire. Sound good?”

  Holy Cow. Where did this guy come from? Hot chocolate by a fire in a quiet place? He’s just one surprise after another. “It sounds fantastic. Let’s go.”

  Blaine takes my skies and goes to store them safely in his locker. I head to the ladies room to do something about my helmet hair. Looking in the mirror, I see I have a goggle-face windburn. With my fair complexion, that’s as close to a tan I will ever see, and am happy I look like a local. With wet hands I fluff up my curls. I don’t look half bad. The one great thing about my hair is it never looks flat for long. A quick swipe of my favorite lipstick and I walk out the door. Blaine has just come up from the locker room. He took a little time to primp too. His hair is damp and combed. I smell that deliciously earth-spiced scent from earlier and it makes me smile. He cares about his appearance and it’s for me.

  We walk for a bit before he leads me into a large hotel. The entrance is spectacular. Hardwood floors with Native-American-inspired throw rugs soften the clunk of our boots as we enter a massive lobby. Only lobby isn’t the right word for it. Post and beam, it’s more like a lodge. Soft light glows from the antler chandeliers. The scent of mulled cider drifts toward us as we head over to the bar. After ordering two hot chocolates, we walk to overstuffed leather chairs by a fire. Pulling two close together, Blaine takes my coat and drapes it over the back of my chair.

  He says, “I’m going to take my boots off. Please don’t be horrified by the man smell.”

  I lean forward so nobody else can hear. “I’m going to take mine off, too. I’m pretty sure you’ll be horrified by my woman smell. If anyone complains, I’ll blame it all on you. They’ll believe me. I hear I look too girly to have stinky feet.” I give him a mischievous smile.

  He shakes his head. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

  “Nope. Just you wait. I’m not joking.” I take off my boots and sure enough his nose crinkles.

  “Wow, that sure is some womanly scent.” He chuckles.

  I offer an exaggerated sigh. “Unfortunately, it isn’t just ski boots. So there you have it. My fatal flaw.”

  “You’re a trip. I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl as honest as you are.” I frown before he adds, “That’s a good thing. I like it.”

  A waitress comes over and hands us each a hot chocolate. I curl up in the chair with my cup in both hands. Warm chocolate coats my tongue when I take a sip. I let out a groan of appreciation. The sweet, light flavor of the whipped cream tells me it’s freshly made. “This is heaven. Who knew hot chocolate could taste so good?”

  “I know. Not a bad tour guide, am I?” Blaine sinks back into his chair.

  “No, you most certainly aren’t. Thank you so much for this. It’s the best ski day I’ve ever had.”

  “You’re very welcome. I had a great time too.”

  * * *

  When we return to the locker room, he offers to walk me to my shuttle. Standing at the bus stop, I’m speechless. Wind blows my hair around my face. I want to see him again. A smile spreads across his face to encourage conversation and I ask, “Teaching tomorrow?” Pathetic. Of course he is.

  “Yup. Cleaning toilets?”

  “You know it,” I say. Wow, we’re grasping at straws here. He shifts his bag to his other shoulder.

  “So when do you get to ski?” He has stepped a little closer. Or was it me?

  I say, “Mondays and Tuesdays are my usual days off.” His face lights up a little, and I have a glimmer of hope.

  He leans a little closer to me. “Would you like to ski again next Tuesday?”

  My heart skips a beat. “Yes.” Finally. That’s what I was waiting for. “Let me give you my number.”

  He takes out his phone and taps it in. The whine and gasp of brakes announce my shuttle. “That’s you. Great day, Casey.”

  Blaine gives me a tiny wave and I get on the shuttle. Just like that and he’s gone. Dissatisfaction sets in. What did I think would happen? Get a grip. This wasn’t a date. Besides, you’re not ready for a relationship, r
emember?

  Chapter Eleven

  Clara is almost as excited for next Tuesday as I am. We’re cleaning a rental unit. I sprinkle powdered cleaner on the metal sink and scrub. She entertains me with “Blaine is so great” stories, but I try not to get my hopes up. Since he’s a constant topic of conversation, I wonder what happened to send him here. I know I should let Blaine tell me, but curiosity finally wins. I wipe hair out of my face with my sleeve. “Clara, what’s Blaine’s heartbreak story?”

  “Heartbreak? He didn’t move here over heartbreak. Well, unless you consider that he missed Tim too much.” She snorts. Lemon scent drifts toward me as she dusts the wooden cabinets.

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, he and Tim are inseparable. When we moved here, I think Blaine was heartbroken. He came here a year ago and hasn’t dated anyone. That’s why I’m so thrilled about you guys. You’re two of my favorite people, and I want to see both of you happy in love. Which reminds me, you’ve never told me what was so awful that you moved to Colorado. Feel like sharing?”

  No, not really. But she’s been a good friend and deserves to know some of it. I spray water to wash away swirls of white foam. “It was a combination of two breakups. The first was just sad. The guy I was in love with just wasn’t the one I was meant to be with. He never wanted to have a family, and you know how much I love children. The next guy, he was such a cliché I can’t even believe it happened. I walked in on my boyfriend having sex with his ex.”

  “Whoa. The second one is brutal.” She flicks the duster over the TV. “Do you talk to the first guy at all?”

  Jason. I think about our last morning together. No, I don’t talk to him. But I do think about him. More than I care to admit. “No. I wasn’t very good about letting him get over me. It’s better if I leave him alone.”

  I grab the bucket of cleaning supplies and head to the bathroom. The fluorescent light flickers, and I start to tear up. Damn it. I could have sworn I’d used them up all those months ago.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tuesday rolls around, and I’m told a few friends are coming along for our ski day. I can’t decide if it’s a date or just skiing. I decide to go with just skiing and dress down a bit this time. I wear my black ski pants and a simple teal shell. I have a magenta fleece underneath for my flash of color and because it looks great on me. Meeting in the same spot, I’m ready for adventure. Blaine’s friends are all instructors, and while I know I’ll be the worst skier, I’m sure it will be awesome.

  They’re late and I get more nervous every minute. Snow squeaks under my boots as I step around with anxious energy. I try not to look too frantic as I adjust and readjust my gear. I notice Blaine before he sees me. He scans the crowd. I guess he’s looking for my white outfit. “Blaine!” I raise my arm in a wave.

  “There you are.” His face breaks into a grin. He’s with two girls and one guy. “This is Megan, Nick and Jess. Guys, meet Casey.”

  In unison they say, “Hey.”

  Nick has the stunning good looks of a Greek god, while Megan is petite and fair. He and Megan make a move toward the line. No time for small talk, I see.

  A chorus of ski bindings click boots into place as I glance at Jess. She’s pretty and working it to the max. Tight, in-the-boot stretch pants make me wonder about her skiing. They certainly make a girl look good, but so impractical the moment snow gets in your boot. I’m a bit dowdy next to her. She moves next to Blaine. Wow, I guess I’m riding alone.

  Megan looks back. “I’ll ride with Casey. You don’t mind do you, Nick?”

  “Naw, I’ll find a single.” He flashes a pearly-white smile, and I think she swoons a little.

  I slide up next to Megan. Is she feeling sorry for me? Can she tell I thought this was more than just tagging along on some double date?

  “I hear you’re going to teach with us next year.” She bends down and opens her boot buckles with a snap. She probably gets cold feet like I do and loosens her boots to wiggle her toes on the chair ride.

  “Yes. I’m both nervous and excited. Do you teach kids or adults?”

  “I teach adults. I love it. Kids are great, though. It’s like babysitting at times, but you can get adults like that too. Well, you don’t wipe their noses and put on their mittens, but you do get some high-maintenance people.” Her eyes twinkle with amusement.

  The chair scoops us up and I relax on the cushioned seat. I’m glad we’re in front of Blaine. I wouldn’t enjoy watching him with Jess. As we get away from the loading area, Megan fills me in.

  “Jess has a thing for Blaine. He’s such a nice guy, he never tells her to back off. She has you pegged as competition, so watch out. That girl has claws.” She pulls a sleeve over the edge of her glove.

  “Thanks for the warning. It’s fine. Blaine and I are nothing more than friends.” My coat zipper grinds as I pull it up higher.

  Megan turns a bit to look at me. “Really? I wouldn’t be so sure. He was anxious to find you this morning. If you ask me, I think he might think of you as a little more than just a friend.”

  I can’t help but smile. Megan gives me a sly look.

  “Judging by the look on your face, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

  I blush. “No. It’s not a bad thing.”

  “Good. That guy needs a girlfriend. He’s too great to be alone. I’ll see what I can do to pry Jess off him.” She lets out a sigh. “I’m not sure how she managed to horn in on this. Nick doesn’t like her any more than I do.”

  The wind is cold on my face and I pull my fleece up over my chin. “Is Nick your boyfriend?”

  “Yes. When you get to know him, you’ll see why. He’s more than hot, he’s adorable.” She has a silly grin on her face.

  Awww, she’s in love. The rest of the ride she tells me cute stories about Nick and their relationship. I like her.

  Velcro rips as I adjust the strap to make my boots tighter. I’ve just finished my buckles when Nick takes the lead. “We’re skiing the bowl.” I notice he’s up to something by the look on Jess’s face. She’s not pleased.

  “Blaine, you know I don’t like bowl skiing. Make Nick go somewhere else.”

  Oh my word! She’s whining.

  “Jess, you’ll be fine. I’ll help if you get stuck.” He pulls a pole strap over his glove.

  Megan cuts in. “No. You won’t, Blaine. I think you should make sure Casey’s good, and I’ll look out for Jess.” Her tone is bossy and Jess squints her eyes.

  Uh-oh. I pretend my boots need another adjustment and bend down to avoid her gaze. But I caught the glare Jess gave me. I so want to glare back. I don’t. Instead, I rise and smile sweetly. “Jess, I’m an East Coast skier. We’re awful at bowl skiing too. If anyone is falling and holding up the group, it’ll be me.” Like hell it will. I have every intention of crushing this girl. I grip my poles with determination.

  Our skis gently scrape snow as Blaine moves up by my side. “Follow me. I have a line I think you’re going to love.”

  “Does it involve a cliff?” My heart beats a little faster.

  “Maybe. I promise to warn you this time.” I can tell he’s teasing me. A smile creeps on his face. “Honestly? I just want to make sure I get to enjoy this with you.”

  Oh. My. Goodness. My heart beats even faster as blood rushes through my body.

  Bowl skiing is an amazing experience. Not always, but most of the time a concave, steep section of a mountain is whipped by winds, leaving the snow a consistency like butter cream frosting. Skis easily slice through, and allow a skier to descend the steepest of inclines for a thrill like no other. Shaped like the inside of a bowl, it flattens out at the bottom. But here’s the thing: a skier has to have good turns, or it can become a nightmare. It isn’t uncommon to see someone fall at the top and tumble all the way to the bottom. Most don’t get seriously hurt, but it’s a few minutes of sheer panic.

  Nick takes off and the sound is clean and sharp as he makes picture-perfect turns. Blaine traverses over to a dif
ferent section and I follow. The sliding of nervous skis is behind me, and I know its Jess. Curiosity makes me wonder what kind of skier she is.

  Blaine stops. He looks over his shoulder and sees all three women are with him. “Ready, ladies? It doesn’t get much better than this.”

  He leads the way with ski-instructor turns. I point my skis down and experience the stomach-lurching sensation of extreme steepness and the ultimate control of a good turn. My skis respond to my pressure in the beginning of my turn to snap me around and on to the next one. Much like music, the movement is about rhythm. When you get it right, it’s a sensual dance between you and the mountain.

  Blaine has stopped and I pull in just below him. “Wow, just wow!” A grin covers my whole face.

  He lifts his goggles as I lift mine. “Those were great turns. You can do that on ice, can’t you?”

  “I sure can, but it’s not nearly as fun.”

  “Can I give you a quick tip?”

  “Sure.”

  He drops his hands down by his thighs and bounces slightly. “You’re a bit too forward on your feet. It certainly helps to control your speed, but it doesn’t leave you much room for error. One little bump can throw you forward and you’ll tumble. Focus on feeling weight in your arches instead of the balls of your feet.”

  “Got it. Thanks.” I flex up and down a bit and make sure I’m over my arches. “You can give me pointers any time you wish. I want to get better.”

  Nick had pulled up by us during this little lesson. “Careful there, buddy. Teaching a girlfriend is not a good idea. Ask me how I know.” He pats Blaine on the shoulder.

  Girlfriend? A tingle rushes through me.

  I’m distracted by Jess. She slowly makes her way down one turn at a time. I feel for her. She’s scared, and seeing her ski, I know why.

  Nick turns to me. “Can you tell why her turns don’t work?”

  “Each one picks up speed?”

  “That’s right. Why?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know.”

 

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