Chapter Nine
I perched on a stool at my kitchen counter and stared into my coffee cup, the room shrouded in pre-dawn darkness except for the tiny light over the stove. In thirty minutes, I needed to walk into the patrol shack and act like last night wasn’t the most mind-blowing, soul-stirring, emotional night of my life. Like I wasn’t madly in love with my boss.
I let my head fall back and my eyes fall closed. I didn’t want to feel this way. I’d fought these feelings all season. Hell, I’d fought them for the past two years. Now I had zero idea how I could keep my hands off him, let alone keep people from picking up on the chemistry between us. I had to though. No way could I lose this job.
I gave up these dreams once for my ex. Believed it when he told me I couldn’t be a mountain guide or a ski patroller. That as a five-foot-tall woman, I’d never get hired. Never get taken seriously. So, for a few years until we divorced, I quit trying.
I’d never do that again. No man was worth losing everything else that made me happy. Everything that made me—me. My heart crumbled. The dust drifting around my chest made my gut go dry and tight. If I had to choose between Max and a career as a ski patroller, I’d pick ski patrol.
****
I stared at Seth, then my clipboard. I’d spent the morning meeting staring at anything other than Sophie. If I looked at her, I might give in, sweep her into my arms, and carry her into my office for a repeat of last night.
“Zach, you and Seth prep Ruby Chutes to open.” I tapped my pen on the paper in front of me, pretending to review the assignments.
“Sophie, I need you to check the pads and fencing on Lucky Ned’s.” I glanced around the group seated at the table, keeping my eyes high enough to skip over her face.
Reading each other’s moods, looking for moments of unspoken doubt or concern—that’s part of what we did to keep each other safe on the hill. Not to mention we all lived and worked in each other’s pockets. Someone was bound to notice me staring at her like she was sunshine on my soul. But if I didn’t look at her, I could do this.
“Okay, everyone. Stay safe out there.”
Chatter filled the warm, damp air along with the clatter and scrape of chair legs and thud of boots. Sam, my boss, slipped in through the throng of ’trollers making their way toward the door and took Sophie off to the side.
I refilled my mug from the dented, bottomless coffeepot and headed into my office. Cinnamon-apple scented papers lay wrinkled and scattered across my desk and the plywood floor. The image of Sophie, splayed out on my desk, my cock slamming into her, filled my brain—not to mention other parts of me.
Last night was spectacular. Crushing my feelings down again, not so much.
I picked the papers up off the floor, set them on top of the others, and plopped into my seat. It would take at least an hour to put these back in order.
Totally worth it.
Knuckles rapped on the office door.
I startled. “Come in.”
Sam’s red hair and freckled face poked through the growing opening. Even at fifty, he had the energy and demeanor of the ski-bum he’d been for years before working his way up to COO of Emerald Mountain.
“Hey, Max. Got a sec?”
“Sure, Sam. What can I do for you?” I shuffled the papers into a more organized pile and set them down.
He walked in, Sophie trailing, and slid the two, wooden classroom chairs out from the wall. Spinning one around on the other side of my desk, he straddled it, and motioned for Sophie to take the other.
His lips pressed tight for a moment. “How are things going this season?”
“Great. The team is gelling nicely, and we haven’t had any major incidents. The paperwork is a bit more time consuming than I expected, but I’m working my way through it.” I waved a hand at the slightly creased stacks on my desk, thankful for the few minutes to straighten up.
“Sophie?”
“Good. Emerald is a terrific mountain, and the crew is solid.”
He nodded, but his eyes stayed trained on the wall above my head. “Max, you know I really appreciate you coming on board with such short notice this season. You did it as a favor to me, and I think you’ve been doing a terrific job…”
I swiped my palms on my ski pants. “But?”
“But, last night I met the developer of those new condos for a late dinner and drinks at Moose Antlers. On the way to the parking lot I noticed your office light was on.”
My hands went still. My heart went still. My eyes went straight to Sophie’s stricken face.
“I came in, figuring I’d either turn it off, or tell you to stop working and go to bed,” he continued, an earnest expression on his face. “Turns out you were still here. But you weren’t alone. Or working.”
I slumped back in my chair and took the luxury of squeezing my eyes shut for just a second before meeting Sam’s again. “Yes.”
“You both know the policy on employee fraternization, right?”
“Yes,” we chorused. Sophie’s eyes were wide with shock. Her face as pale as the papers stacked on my desk.
“You two have put me in a seriously tough spot. If I fire both of you, as per policy, I’m short too many ’trollers to keep the mountain open safely, and it’s going to be next to impossible to fill your positions this late in the season. But we’re very strict about this policy because we’ve had…ahem, problems, before.” Sam shook his head.
I scanned my brain for a reason, a legitimate excuse, any way to change the outcome of this conversation. Coming up with one was about as likely as stopping an avalanche mid-slide, but I had to try. “It’s my fault. Fire me, but keep Sophie. You can’t afford to lose us both and she’s a helluva ’troller—”
Sophie gasped. “Max, you can’t—”
“I appreciate the sacrifice, Max, but I need my Patrol Director more. And your position is harder to fill.”
“No.” I stood so quickly my chair tipped over, clattering on the floor behind me. “It’s me, or both of us. If you fire Sophie, the rumors alone will kill her career. She doesn’t deserve that.”
“Technically, you both deserve that. You went against company policy, and you’re potentially putting the other ’trollers on your staff in danger if you keep letting your emotions cloud your judgment.” Sam glared at me, then his face softened a hair. “Look, I know how lonely it can get stuck up here all season. But sleeping with your staff is just not good for business. It causes too many problems, even if it’s casual.”
“The thing is, me and Sophie, it’s not casual.” I took a deep breath, searching for words that might help while Sam waited, eyebrows raised.
“Max asked me to marry him last night.”
Both of us turned and stared at Sophie.
****
I couldn’t let Max take the blame. And it wasn’t his job to singlehandedly get us out of this mess.
“Seriously?” Sam glared at me. “So, you two have been in violation of company policy all season?”
I met Sam glare for glare. “No, we have not.”
Sam rubbed his temples, and his eyes swung back and forth between us. “Explain.”
Running my tongue around my mouth, I moistened it enough to talk. Not that I knew what to say. It wasn’t like I was lying, just stretching the truth a little. But I wasn’t exactly wearing a ring. Not that I would be if we were hiding this. Which we would be.
“Max and I, we have history. Really good history, but not recent. I had no idea I’d be working for him when I took this job, or I might not have. Until yesterday, we hadn’t even been alone together here for more than five minutes.”
“And now you’re engaged, just like that?” Disbelief colored Sam’s voice.
“YES!” Max slammed his hands on his desk, startling me, took a breath, and tempered his voice. “I mean, no. Not just like that. We lived and partnered together for two months in Portillo doing IFMGA training. We were inseparable. Then Anna’s accident happened and, well, you know that story. I basically dropped off the face of the earth and didn’t see Sophie again until she came here. But I never stopped wanting to be with her. When I found out you’d hired her, I was worried about my emotions clouding my decision-making too, so I made sure we never worked alone together—until yesterday.”
Sam looked at me. “And you got sluffed and took a scary fall in Ruby Chutes yesterday.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I was fine, but Max wasn’t.”
“That’s when I realized I couldn’t live without her.” Max plunged on. “Last night, I told her I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. So, if you want to fire someone, again, fire me. It’s my fault this happened. Sophie doesn’t deserve to lose her job because I couldn’t keep my shit together.”
My coiled stomach sprang up into my throat. Max kept trying to throw himself under the bus for me. For my career. For my dreams.
“But clearly working with Sophie clouds your judgment.”
Max shrugged and smiled weakly. “We agreed not to work any more shifts alone together. Problem solved.”
“That only solves part of the problem.” Sam’s face was still hard as granite.
“We’ve only slept together once since we’ve worked here, and that was last night.” I chimed in. Much as I appreciated Max’s gesture, I was an equal participant in what happened. “We knew we broke the rules, and we agreed we’d keep our relationship on hold until the end of the season. So, you don’t have to worry about clouded judgment—on the hill or anywhere else.”
“Hmph…” Sam rubbed his chin and stared up at the fluorescent lights for a handful of beats. He brought his gaze down. “So, you two are serious about making this work?”
We nodded in unison.
“Is there a ring?”
Fuck. My heart shriveled to snowflake size. Our jobs, my career, were toast.
“Yes, there is. We figured it was best if Sophie didn’t wear it yet.”
My mouth popped open. What?