by Skye Jordan
The woman shot another annoyed look at Julia.
“I want to talk to the specialist myself,” Julia was saying. “He flew in from Philadelphia?”
Noah reached for the laptop open on her tray table, closed the lid, and slid it into his lap. Julia’s gaze followed as he offered it to the flight attendant, who stored it in an overhead bin.
“Okay¸” she said to Drake. “Can you get me his contact information, maybe give him a call and a heads-up that it’s urgent I talk with him?”
Noah laid his hand over her forearm where it rested on the arm of the chair, and she glanced over. “They always give first-class customers a little more leeway, but you’re pushing it. Call him back when we land so the flight attendant doesn’t kick us off the plane.”
She rolled her eyes in frustration. “Okay,” she said into the phone. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.”
With a heavy exhale and a furrowed brow, she turned off her phone and tucked it into the tiny thing she called a purse in the seat back of the chair in front of her, just as the plane taxied onto the runway.
She burrowed her little body into the plush leather chair, gripped the edge of the seat flanking her thighs, and closed her eyes. Within a minute, the engine revved, and the plane sped down the runway. Julia’s body stiffened, and her fingers dug into the leather. When Noah glanced at her face, he found her jaw tight, her eyes squeezed shut.
He lifted the armrest between them, curled his hand over her fist, and pried her fingers loose so he could thread them with his. “Are you afraid to fly?”
“Not…exactly.”
“Then why are you draining the blood from my hand?”
“It’s just takeoffs and land—”
The plane lifted off the runway, and a soft mewl ebbed from her throat. Noah lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her into him. She cuddled close, and gripped his thigh so hard, he was pretty sure he’d have fingerprint bruises in his quad.
“Jesus, Julia,” he murmured in her ear. “You should have told me. I could have gotten you a Xanax or a drink or something.”
She didn’t respond, just burrowed her head deeper, and Noah held her tight until the plane’s thrust eased and her grip on his thigh relaxed.
He lifted his other hand to her cheek and found her skin cold. “Don’t faint on me. I’ll freak out and embarrass myself.”
She huffed a laugh. “It’s all about you.”
“That’s my girl.”
“I’ll be fine once we level off.”
“We can stay like this the whole flight, as far as I’m concerned.”
She didn’t respond, but her body slowly relaxed against his.
“Has flying always bothered you?”
“No. Just after the crash.”
“Crash? As in plane crash?” He tilted his head to look at her, but she was still snuggled close. “Jesus, Julia, you were in a plane crash, knew we were flying to LA, and didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t think a short flight would bother me.”
“When did that happen?”
“About…six years ago. I was on my way to a competition with my team. Landing gear failed. No one died or anything. We just got banged up.”
The plane hit an air pocket, lifted, then fell, leaving Noah’s stomach in his throat for a millisecond. Julia’s body tightened like a taut rubber band, and a soft curse floated from her lips.
“Just turbulence,” he murmured.
She relaxed a little. The floral scent of her hair lifted to his nose, and the heat of her body infused his. Noah closed his eyes to soak in this rare sliver of intimacy. His craving for her had grown to insane levels over the past few weeks. Their one night of deliriously great sex had only primed him for more, and he spent every free moment fantasizing about all the things he still wanted to do with her. But when he woke in the night, it was the thought of her lying next to him, the fantasy of her head on his shoulder, that helped him drift back to sleep.
“What’s got you so twisted you need to track down the surgeon who fixed my ankle?” he asked, hoping a change of subject would help her anxiety.
“Your orthopedist just seemed evasive to me. Every time I brought up the procedure, he deferred to the surgeon, who, conveniently, is difficult to get ahold of. And I’m never thrilled about any prototype. Especially one I can’t find in-depth studies on.”
His mind drifted to the appointment that morning. To all the questions Julia peppered the orthopedist with. To the man’s growing impatience with Julia’s prodding. “He’s not used to people asking questions. His clients are a list of who’s who with great success stories. At some point, I guess you get so good at what you do, your word is accepted verbatim.”
She made a negative sound. “He’s not used to people asking questions he can’t answer. He’s not used to people knowing what he’s talking about. And his reluctance—or ignorance, I haven’t decided which yet—gives me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.”
He chuckled to lighten the mood. “Are you sure that’s not the plane ride?”
“Had it five minutes after we walked into his office today. It’s not the plane.”
They finally leveled into a smooth glide, and Julia pulled away far too soon for Noah, definitely a new sensation. One night with a woman had always been enough. More than enough. But Julia had changed that. He was beginning to fear Julia had changed everything.
She was pale, her eyes dark with stress, but she turned to Noah. “Can you get the laptop for me? I was reading a paper about the screws he used.”
He unbuckled, but before he could get up, the flight attendant was standing in their row, drawing the laptop from the overhead, and offering it to Noah. He thanked her and slid it over to Julia.
“What kind of competition were you headed to when the plane crashed?”
“Swimming,” she said, distracted now that she’d opened the laptop.
“That explains the sexy shoulders. I’m surprised you didn’t ask me to open the pool.”
“It’s heated?” Her gaze pulled from the computer screen and really focused on his face for the first time all day.
“Whoa. Look at you perk up at the mention of a pool.” That earned him one of her sweet smiles. “Yes, it’s heated. I’ll open it when we get home if you want.” And wasn’t that weird, referring to his house as their home. Weird and somehow…right.
“I probably won’t have time to use it,” she said. “But thanks.”
“What’s your stroke?” he asked.
She refocused on the computer. “Butterfly, once upon a time. Now I just stick with freestyle.”
“Why’d it change?”
“Shoulder injury.”
“Is that why you became a physical therapist?”
“Yep.”
And then silence again as she read. Annoyance niggled along the back of his neck. He didn’t appreciate a woman who talked endlessly about the minutia of life, but he didn’t like having to be the one keeping a conversation alive either.
“Hi, Noah.”
The young female voice surprised him. He turned toward the aisle and found eight-year-old Hailey Belmonte standing there at eye level. “Hailey!” He unsnapped his seat belt and tugged her into his arms for a hug. “Almost didn’t recognize you out of your gear.” He pulled back. “What’s up, girl? Saw you aced the boardercross event in the Catskills last month.”
“Yeah. It was fun.”
Her father came up behind her, and Noah twisted to reach over Hailey to shake David’s hand. “Hey, man, how are you?”
“Great, thanks. Good to see you.”
“You too. Where are you headed?”
“Massachusetts for Slopestyle,” Hailey said, her words slurring through the gap in her teeth.
“Girl, you lost another tooth.”
She giggled. “It was hanging forever, so I pulled it myself the way you pulled my other one at camp.”
A little pang of reg
ret tugged at his heart. “Sorry I missed that.”
“How’s your leg?” she asked, glancing down.
“Much better, thanks to my amazing physical therapist here. This is Julia Quinn.” They exchanged quick hellos, and Noah pulled one of the many business cards he’d stashed in his pockets and offered one to David. “She’s out of San Francisco, working me back into shape for Snowmass. If Hailey ever needs anything, she’d be a great fit.”
“Good to know.” David pocketed the card. “Thanks.”
Hailey’s face lit up like a star. “You’re going to the X Games?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned to her dad. “Oh, can we go, Daddy? Please? I’ve never seen Noah board in real life.”
David laughed. “Then what the heck were you doing in all those clinics?”
“I mean in competition,” she said with that eight-year-old attitude. “And I’ve never been to the X Games. Please?”
“We’ll see,” David told Hailey, then looked at Noah. “Are you running clinics this spring?”
Hailey jumped in before Noah could answer. “Lacy and Summer want to come this year. You promised to take us into the backcountry when we were older”—her grin widened in that sweet teasing way of hers—“and we’re older.”
“That you are.”
The stewardess came up to their row. “I’m so sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to take your seats.”
“Sure.” David shook Noah’s hand again, waved to Julia. “See you soon.”
He started toward the rear of the plane, and Hailey opened her arms to Noah for another hug. “I miss you.” When she pulled away, her big, serious eyes met his. “Come back to the clinics, okay? We all like Finn, but he’s not you.”
Noah ran his hand over her hair and gave her another quick hug. “If I can, I promise I will.” He let her go. “Go on, get out of here.”
With a big grin, Hailey turned and skipped down the aisle.
“She’s cute,” Julia said, her voice sincere. “And you are absolutely freakin’ adorable with her.”
“Only eight, and she’s got the snowboarding world wrapped. That kid’s got as many sponsors as I do.”
“Hard life, though,” she said, leaning her head against the seat, her gaze going distant and a little sad. “At eight, it all seems like fun and games. You get to do all the cool stuff grown-ups do. You get out of school. Everyone treats you like a queen.”
He waited, silent and still, hoping not to tug her out of this trance when she seemed so open, as if she were talking from experience, making him wonder just how good a swimmer she’d been. But when she didn’t go on, he asked, “And then…?”
A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Then you get older, and others start depending on you—for fame or money or their careers—and the pressure increases, and sponsors get demanding, relationships change…” She trailed off, then laughed. “Listen to me, all gloom and doom. I’m sure she’s going to do great. Looks like she’s got her parents behind her, which is always important.” She met his gaze. “Where’d you get my business cards?”
“Stole them from your pocket when you brought them to the house for the guys. How long did you compete?”
She looked away, and for a moment, he thought she wouldn’t answer, but then she said, “Fifteen years—about ten years too long. Drake says you’d like to start a snowboarding school someday, after you step out of the spotlight. You sure seem great with the kids. It would be an amazing life for you.”
“Why do you change the subject every time the topic of you comes up?”
She gave a dramatic bat of her eyelashes. “Because you’re so much more interesting, oh master of the snowboard. Tell me about the school you want.”
“I don’t know if a school is exactly what I had in mind. More of a camp situation, where kids of all ages would come to learn. But I’d focus on the experienced, competitive boarders I could push to the next level. And Finn’s been talking about this thing called extreme tourism—”
“Where people pay to take vacations and do wild stuff—skydive in Machu Picchu, hang glide in Brazil, climb the Alps,” she said. “I’ve heard of it.”
“Right. I haven’t looked into it much, but I was thinking it would be really cool to—in addition to clinics for kids—also put together adventures like boardercross races and backcountry excursions for advanced boarders.”
As soon as the idea hit his own ears, it sounded flimsy, and he regretted letting these intimate ideas spill from his mouth. Julia had a way of putting him so at ease, talking to her sometimes almost felt like talking out loud to himself. But right now, having all that out there, ideas he hadn’t even gotten his own mind around, made him feel exposed.
“What’s backcountry?” she asked.
He grinned just thinking about it. “Only the most adrenaline-pumping snowboarding venture ever.” When he looked over and found her waiting for more, he said, “It’s the pursuit of fresh, virgin powder—ungroomed, unmarked, untouched by humans—in the highest, steepest, most remote locations available. It’s being airlifted to the starting point and boarding down completely freestyle and virtually blind. It’s pure, raw, rabid juice for any extreme snowboarder.”
He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until he opened them and all the memories of his own days in the backcountry faded away. Julia had propped her elbow on the armrest between them and simply stared at him, one hand under her chin, a wistful smile on her face.
“What?” he asked, suddenly exposed again.
She shook her head, barely a movement. “I’ve just never heard you so totally…passionate about what you do until just then. It’s…” She searched for a word. “Inspiring. Powerful.”
God, she just got him. He’d never known a woman who he believed really understood what drove him. Her eyes never glazed over when he talked about his sport. She never lost interest in his childish stories from his past. She was so open and accepting and encouraging. Yes, she was a hard-ass too, but one who understood him.
“I want you to watch something.” He pulled the computer from her lap and connected to the Internet, then pulled up one of the backcountry snowboarding videos he’d made with Red Bull.
“How long were you going to let me believe we didn’t have Internet?” she asked, her voice wry.
“The entire flight.” He pulled up the video full-screen and turned it so they could both watch. Then he tapped the arrow to play and said, “This is backcountry.”
The video had been shot without audio. Only background music played while the beginning of the video introduced each member of the snowboarder group pretending to play some part in the manufacturing process at the Ride snowboard factory, his sponsor before he switched to Epic.
“These are the other guys on the video,” he explained as she watched intently. “There’s Finn.”
She smiled, nodded.
“I’m in the—”
“Orange jacket,” she finished, even though he had his back to the camera. “I know your body.” Her eyes snapped to his, then away. “I mean…your build.”
She didn’t know his body nearly as well as he’d like her to.
As soon as the video cut to riding footage, Julia was rapt. Every flip, every turn, every crazy-ass trick he’d pulled on the video held her attention. She oohed and aahed and laughed and gasped in all the right places. For twenty minutes, she watched, her gaze never flickering away from the screen even when she laughed or asked Noah a question.
“Where was this shot?” she asked.
“They mixed the segments—you can usually tell by what we’re wearing—but for this video, we went to British Columbia, France, Switzerland, Montana… Yeah, I think that was all.”
“How many of these have you done?”
“About a dozen. Had another one scheduled when I broke my ankle.”
She watched as Noah caught air for a hundred-foot vertical drop from the makeshift slope off snow-covered boulders, his landing ending in a sli
ding stop beside his pack of buddies for high fives.
“God, that looks so crazy,” she said. “So adrenaline inducing. So wildly time-of-your-life fun.”
“Oh, it is. All that and more.”
When it was over, she shook her head slowly, her eyes finally lifting to Noah’s again. “I think you’ve got something there. I could see boarding enthusiasts paying big bucks to have you take them on an excursion where they got to do that. I mean, I know the tricks you were doing are too advanced for other people, but just the experience alone would be a draw.”
The knot in his stomach unwound, and excitement infused his heart. “Yeah?”
She grinned. “Yeah. And I think it’s both critical and intelligent that you’re looking ahead, because no matter how talented or how successful, we all have to leave our sport of choice behind someday—at least professionally. Knowing where you’re going can make the time you have left in the sport of your dreams that much better.”
She snatched the computer back. “So, let me research this thing in your ankle so I’ll know you’ll be okay doing all those insane tricks you love.”
“Good Lord,” Julia murmured in front of the mirror in her bedroom of the suite Drake had booked for her and Noah. This dress fit her perfectly. “He hit a bull’s-eye.”
“What?” Drake asked, coming back on the line after putting her on hold to take another call.
“Nothing.” The dress was sleek, sassy, and sexy, while still classy enough to be considered tasteful. He’d been right about the cut exposing her arms and shoulders, about the way it clung to her body, chest to thighs, the way it stopped short to show off her legs. She forced her mind back to the conversation. “What were you saying about the specialist?”
“I left him a voice mail, told him what this was about and that you’d be calling him, but, Julia, why does this concern you so much?”
She walked to the vanity and put her makeup away while holding her phone between her shoulder and her ear. “Because the orthopedist was sketchy with his answers. And the way this specialist flew out from Philadelphia on his own dime to try out a brand-new bone cement on an X Games athlete who’s hitting the slopes again in a few months screams I gotta get this case on my list of clients because the notoriety will bring fame and clients and more cash. I’ve seen it so often in my profession with these high-level athletes, many people don’t even see it as unethical anymore.”
