Chapter Three
He was nowhere near as smooth as he’d imagined. Instead of him sitting there, relaxed, offering Sam a seat, basking in her smile as she saw the cocoa, he’d almost missed her and had to chase her down. Like he was desperate. Like he didn’t get that she had places to be. Just because she’d been nice enough to bring Amelia in didn’t mean she’d do anything but walk out the door.
But she wasn’t busy. And she even smiled at him. They sat across from each other next to the enormous windows that opened to the white of the trails. The late-afternoon sun streamed through, turning her brown hair gold. Sam had taken off her perfectly fitted ski jacket to reveal a trim black wool sweater with enough hint of a white layer that all he wanted was to pull it off and see what else she had on underneath.
Damn, he moved fast in his mind.
Relationships had an unfortunate way of getting personal, and no one needed to know the memories of his injury that still woke him in the night. But he could look. And enjoy.
Which he’d been doing ever since he first caught sight of the woman skiing down to Amelia and realized she’d clearly been on a mountain before. What he noticed second, when she got closer and lifted her goggles, was that she’d look good off skis as well. She’d look good in just about anything.
Or, for that matter, nothing at all.
She was tall, with dark eyes and finely arched brows. Austin had felt himself grow hot under her gaze, his panic at Amelia’s fall giving way to a different kind of adrenaline surge. When she’d taken his hand, the electric shock of her touch hit him so hard he could barely concentrate for the girls’ last two runs.
Austin wasn’t used to losing his focus. It was just him, the snow, the skis. But he wasn’t out on the mountain now, climbing to take off on a backcountry run. He wasn’t even worrying about that obnoxious call from Steven Park. He was doing what he never did, which was sit around the lodge and drink overpriced, too-sweet hot chocolate. Why, he wasn’t sure.
“So do you always go around saving people on the slopes?” he asked, blowing on the steaming cocoa.
“Only when I get lucky.” The corners of her lips rose—almost a smile, but not quite. He wondered what he’d have to do to earn a real one. “What about you? Is coaching always so dramatic?”
Austin shook his head. He wished he could have met her when he hadn’t been wearing a helmet for hours. He’d tried to smooth down his hair in the bathroom, but the situation was beyond help. She, though, had the perfect tousled look, long strands swept to the side, just loose enough to make him think how appealing she’d be if she really came undone.
He took a sip of cocoa, trying to keep composed. “I keep everyone upright as best I can. But Amelia…” He sighed. “I don’t know. Her times are good, but she’s been off recently. I don’t know how to get her back on track.”
“She’ll be okay,” Sam said. “She’s a great skier. They all are.”
“State semifinals six years and counting.”
“Wow!” Sam’s eyebrows shot up.
He laughed. “Actually that’s not so good—we used to win sometimes.”
“But it sounded from the team like you guys are doing well this year.”
“I know, they’ve got a real shot at advancing to the next round.”
“And Amelia?” Sam asked.
“I’ve never trained anyone like her.” It wasn’t one of those platitudes teachers liked to say. Amelia really was the best student he’d ever had. “There’s no question she’ll be in the finals for the individual slots, even if the whole team doesn’t come through. The bigger deal is that she’s being recruited for a competition in Utah that will go toward determining spots on the national team. I have a feeling she can make it as far as she wants.” He paused. “She just has to want to, of course.”
Sam frowned and put down the cup. “Too much pressure?”
“I didn’t use to think so. Now?” He played with the plastic lid. The cocoa was too sweet, but he always forgot how much he liked it anyway. “I wish I knew.”
Sam gave him a sympathetic look. “She’ll figure it out.”
He smiled, embarrassed by how long he’d gone on about the team. “Sorry, too much yammering on my part. The girls are always telling me to talk about something else. Where are you in from? Here for the day?”
“I live in Seattle,” Sam said, which was what he’d guessed.
“Do you come here a lot?”
“To Gold?” She shook her head. “Not recently. I used to come with my father, but I—” Her voice caught, and she looked away. “I haven’t been up in a few years.”
“You picked a great day to do it—actual sun in the winter is a miracle. Although I hear it’s supposed to start coming down tonight.”
“Snow?” Sam turned back to him in surprise. “But it’s not even cloudy.”
“That’s the mountains for you. You can’t predict a thing around here.”
As if on cue, the bathroom doors shot open, and the team spilled out. They were chattering about whatever had happened at school when a voice that could only be Kelsey’s carried over the group. “Shut. Up.”
They all stopped, staring at Austin and Sam, and then erupted in a volley of giggles.
“You’ve never seen anyone drink cocoa before?” he demanded.
But that only made them laugh harder and they scrambled out of the lodge, singing, “’Byeeeeee, Austin! ’Bye, Sam!” as they pushed open the door.
How was it possible to be a grown-ass man and still mortified by high school girls?
“I really should get going,” Sam said as she followed the parade of girls with her eyes.
Inside, Austin cursed. But he said, “Of course. I didn’t mean to keep you.”
“You didn’t keep me. I just—work doesn’t quite know I’m taking the day off, so I should check in.” Sam waved a hand dismissively as though that covered it. No rings, he noticed. Wedding or otherwise. Nails manicured with some sort of clear, shiny polish but no other marks.
“Of course,” Austin said again, then wished he could expand his vocabulary beyond those two words. And make himself stop staring at her. “Well…thanks again for your help. I appreciated it.”
Sam nodded. She put on her jacket and tucked her face mask and goggles into her helmet to carry. For one crazy second, Austin opened his mouth to ask where she was staying, if he could call her, what she was doing tonight.
But she was the one saying good-bye. Clearly she wanted to go. She probably had someone in Seattle anyway. She carried herself with an understated confidence, not egotistical but certainly not shying away. Surely there was some successful city guy who knew how to sweep her off her feet.
“So, have a great rest of the day,” Austin said.
“Thanks, good luck with the race. And thanks for the cocoa, too.”
“Any time.”
He couldn’t tell if she was lingering or simply zipping up her coat, but after another smile she walked out the door and was gone.
Austin took one last sip of lukewarm cocoa and trashed the rest. He tried to tell himself it was for the best. Any time he wound up interested in someone, he inevitably found a way to push her away. That was his pattern, his thing. Ever since his father brought down that hammer and shattered both Austin’s knee and his world, it was too hard to let anyone in. If he really liked Sam, he’d let her walk away.
Besides, he had too many other things to worry about. Like how many voicemails he was going to have from Steven Park when he got home. And what he was going to say when he finally met Samantha Kane. She had to accept that he wasn’t selling a single tree from his land.
If she didn’t like it, that was her problem. Not his.