*The Ice Shack looked empty when they arrived but a hostess appeared in a cute ski outfit and walked them to a table at the window overlooking the ice rink. The ice outside glowed blue and purple from colored lights, and the Ice Shack reflected the same colors, with white sculptural walls that looked like stacked blocks of ice, floor-to-ceiling columns made out of clear acrylic icicles, and the lighting was soft, with the same wash of lavender and blue lights like the outside ice rink.
“This is amazing,” Charity said as they reached their white table with matching white chairs. “It is like the inside of an ice cave.”
“Without the freezing temperature,” he answered, holding her chair for her as she sat down. “I’ve been to a real ice bar and they’re cold.”
His fingers brushed her back as he assisted her chair forward. She couldn’t remember the last time someone held her chair, or opened the car door. Not true. Her first love, Joe Wyatt, had been the same way. He was a cowboy from east of Pray in Paradise Valley and he’d been very protective. He was a great person, and he would have been a great husband and father—if she could have handled living in the middle of nowhere. But Montana winters were harsh, and the Wyatt ranch was high in the Absarokas. Even in good weather it was a thirty-minute drive to Marietta. In winter, it could be impossible. He couldn’t change the location of the Wyatt ranch—it’d been in the family for eighty years—and she couldn’t tear herself from her family. He hadn’t understood, but then, he wasn’t the one leaving everything behind. His grandfather and mother lived on the ranch. Three of his four brothers worked the ranch when not competing on the rodeo circuit. His whole world was high up in Paradise Valley whereas hers was Marietta.
She exhaled in a rush, wishing she’d stop thinking of Joe. Somehow her breakup with Greg had thrown her into a tailspin, making her question every decision, good and bad.
Douglas sat down across from her and looked at her. His brow creased. “What’s wrong?”
She struggled to smile. “Careful. You’ll get me talking and you might just get an earful.”
“I have nowhere to go, and nothing to do.”
“You really shouldn’t encourage me.”
“Why not? Maybe I want to hear everything.”
“Seriously? Because I’ve been told that men find women’s emotions terrifying.”
He laughed, creases fanning from the corner of his eyes. “Not exactly terrifying, but they can be a little overwhelming for the novice. Fortunately, I have a sister—she’s two years younger than me—and she helped me understand that women need words more than men. Sometimes she just needed to talk, and she’d feel better.” He studied her for a moment, still smiling, and yet his blue gaze was warm, his expression kind. “So talk to me. What’s upsetting you?”
“Because I’m a terrible judge of character, I now need to figure out what I’m going to do about work. I’m not sure if I can keep working with Greg, but if I look for a new job, my sister, Amanda, is going to beg me to come work for her, and please don’t tell anyone I said this, but I think that would be worse than where I am now.”
“Your sister is worse than Greg the Schmuck?”
“No. She’s amazing. She’s the best sister, and my best friend, and it’s her dream that I go work for her salon, but it’s not for me. It really isn’t.”
“You can’t just tell her that?”
“I don’t want to hurt her feelings, and it would. Amanda might be the baby in the family, but she’s fierce. When she wants something, nothing stops her.” Charity drew a quick breath. “I’m… not like that. I’m not driven and ambitious. It’s kind of a problem. I honestly think it’s what has gotten me into my current situation.”
“Are there any other travel agencies in your area you could work at?” he asked.
And just like that, Charity remembered where she was, and who she was supposed to be. Tricia Thorpe. And Tricia loved her work, and loved travel, and if word got back to Marietta Travel that Tricia was looking for another job… oh, that would be terrible.
“No,” she said more firmly, sitting up and squaring her shoulders. “I don’t want to work anywhere else, and you know what, I’m not going to be chased out of a job I enjoy. I’m good at what I do, and if Greg doesn’t like it, he can go, not me.”
Douglas lifted his water glass and saluted her. “That’s the fighting spirit.”
They ordered fondue—cheese for starter and a chocolate dessert version to finish—and over glasses of wine and chunks of crusty bread swirled in decadent melted cheese they talked about their past relationships, discovering neither of them had been married or engaged, although they both had come close.
Answering Douglas’s question, Charity said, “He did propose, but I couldn’t say yes. I loved him, I did, but I knew we wanted different things and it would be a problem moving forward.”
“Have you ever regretted your decision?” he asked.
“I’ve regretted letting him go because I’ve never felt that way about anyone since, but I still think I made the right decision. I need people more than he does. I need to be in town.”
She twirled her fondue fork in the bubbling cheese in the copper-hammered pot. “What about you? What’s your longest relationship?”
“The one that just ended this summer. We were together almost three years.”
“Why did it end?”
“She wanted to get married and I didn’t.”
“Not the marrying sort?”
He didn’t answer immediately. “I always planned on getting married one day, but it has to be right. I’d rather be single than in an unhappy marriage.”
Charity watched him repeatedly stab a cube of bread. He seemed far more interested in stabbing it than eating it. “Why wasn’t she the one?”
He was silent so long Charity wasn’t sure he was even going to answer, and then he shrugged. “It was what you said. We wanted different things. Her vision for the future was different than mine.”
“So what do you want? Do you know?”
“I want to be happy.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” she asked, before popping the hot cheesy bite into her mouth.
“You’d think so, but happiness can look very different to people. For me, it’s not about money or lifestyle. It’s not about impressing others, or catering to what people think. It’s about being true to yourself and giving your best to those closest to you.”
The cheese was hot and it took her a moment to swallow and be able to talk. “It’s how it should be, isn’t it?” she agreed. “Family should be the people we love most. The people we protect. But it doesn’t always work out that way.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I guess it’s easy to take your family for granted. But it’s such a mistake. Family is everything. My sisters are everything. They’ve gotten me through really hard times.”
“Tell me about your sisters.”
“I have two. My older sister Jenny lives in Colorado with her husband, and my younger sister Amanda, or Mandy, lives just a mile from me. Mandy’s my best friend. Growing up, we were two peas in a pod. We did everything together. She just got married in June.” A lump suddenly filled her throat. “It’s changed things a little bit, but I’m happy for her. She married a great guy. He adores her, and respects her, and Mandy deserves it.”
“But you miss her,” Quinn said quietly.
Charity blinked back tears. “I do. We still see each other every week, and yet, it’s not the same. Maybe it’s me, keeping my distance, but when we’re all together I feel like a third wheel.”
“Then just do things with her.”
“I do, but it’s not as often. Mandy adores him and she invites me to do things with them all the time. Sometimes I do, and sometimes I think they just need couple time.”
“And they do, as they’re newlyweds.”
“I’m not jealous of her happiness, but I’m… lonely.” She wrinkled her nose. “I shouldn’t have said that, should I? I sound like a brat.”
“No, you sound like someone who has always had a team, but her team has changed, and she’s trying to figure out how to play the game on her own.”
“Wow. You are a sports writer.”
He laughed quietly, and yet his expression was sympathetic, which only made him even sexier.
“I do miss my team,” she said softly. “Now that I think about it, I only started dating Greg after Mandy got married. Such a mistake.”
“Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.”
“Yes, and I can see now that instead of dating him, I should have used my free time to focus on my design work. That’s my secret passion. I love fashion. I love designing clothes. Mandy has always been my favorite model. I created her wedding dress, and most of her wardrobe.” She paused, grimaced. “I haven’t made her anything since the wedding. I was planning on making her something for a Christmas party but haven’t done it yet.”
“What would you make?”
“Something glamorous. Mandy looks like a 1940s pinup. Very blonde and really beautiful.”
“She can’t be more beautiful than you. You’re a stunning woman, Tricia.”
Tricia.
Charity flushed, cheeks hot. She didn’t even hear the compliment, too bothered by her deception. She wanted to tell him who she really was, but couldn’t, not with him being a friend of the owner. There was no way Charity could risk getting Tricia in trouble. “Thank you,” she murmured, and then not knowing what else to say, she grasped at the first thing that came to mind. “Have you stayed in touch with your girlfriend?”
“We talk now and then, and text a couple times a week,” he answered.
“So you’ve stayed on good terms.”
“She’s a great person.”
“Do you want to get back together?”
“No.”
“Does she?”
He didn’t answer, which told her plenty.
“Does she work at your magazine or paper, or wherever you work?” Charity persisted.
“No.” He winked at her. “I know better than to date my coworkers.”
His wink made her pulse quicken and her cheeks warm. She wished she didn’t find him so attractive. Being friends with him would be easier without the sizzle of desire she felt every time she glanced into his face. “How did you meet her?”
“Alice?” His brow furrowed, and he paused, remembering. “We met at a fund-raiser, and we just clicked, and that was that.”
“I bet she’s beautiful.”
“She is. Smart, too. Very focused, very ambitious. I admire her a great deal.”
Charity bit into her lower lip, hiding her dismay because she wasn’t ambitious. It was a problem, really. “So you don’t regret the relationship?”
“Not at all. I learned a lot from our time together. I learned what I needed in a relationship and what I don’t need. Alice is a wonderful woman, and I’m glad we had those three years together, but now it’s time for the right relationship, the one that will hopefully lead to marriage and kids.”
“You want a family.”
“Most definitely.”
She could see him with kids, and it gave her a little pang. “Did Alice not want children?”
“No, she did, but we had different ideas about how to raise them, and where to raise them. It worried me. Let’s be honest, if we disagreed that much before we had our first child, I couldn’t imagine the tension after.”
“It’s hard to grow up in a house filled with tension.”
“I think you’re smart to make sure it’s right. That’s why I’m determined to take my time from now on. No more jumping into relationships. No more dating just to date. It’s not worth it.”
He lifted his wineglass. “To waiting for the right one.”
She clinked her glass against his. “I’ll drink to that!”
*
They spent the next day together as they explored the resort, their small group walking the hotel grounds, and then given a little tour of town. They had lunch at the pizza place, and then they were treated to a movie in the small, three-screen movie theater. It was a holiday film, a new version of The Grinch, and Charity could barely focus on the story, so aware of Douglas next to her.
She liked being next to him. She liked the feeling she got when he smiled at her, because she couldn’t help smiling back. And when she smiled, she went warm and fizzy. She felt happy… happier than she’d been in a very long time.
As they left the movie and walked back to the lodge, Douglas mentioned how Little Teton was perfect for families. “If they renovated the old bowling alley, you’d have quite a lot for families to do here between skiing, sledding, ice skating, movies, and bowling. Everything is priced well, too.”
“Do you think that’s part of the problem, though?” she asked him. “That the Paces have tried to keep Little Teton affordable, and it’s hurting their ability to recoup their investment?”
Douglas lifted a brow. “That’s very insightful.”
“You can’t work in real estate—” She broke off, flustered, realizing she’d nearly given herself away. “I have a friend whose husband is always looking for investments,” she added quickly. “They talk about this kind of thing a lot.”
“Your friend and her husband are right. If the Paces charged more for lodging and lift tickets, they’d certainly earn more. But would it drive away the customers they want?”
Charity and Douglas continued the conversation all the way back to the Aspen Lodge, and it amazed Charity at how much Douglas listened to her, and respected her opinion. Greg certainly never had. He’d always acted so superior.
“What did you study in school?” she asked Douglas, as he opened the front door of the lodge for her.
“Economics,” he answered. “And you?”
“Communications.”
“Maybe Peter should talk to you about how they could improve their marketing and public relations.”
“Oh, I don’t know that I’d have good ideas for him. It’s been a long time since I was in school.” She glanced at her watch, checking the time. They had several hours before dinner. “What are you going to do now?”
“I might get a workout in. And you?”
“Read.” She grinned. “And then maybe check out the pool area and the hot tub.”
“I might do the same in an hour.”
“See you there.”
He did join her at the outdoor pool, too. She was sitting submerged to her shoulders on the wide pool steps, steam rising all around her, as he arrived. His cheeks were still dusky from exertion and his eyes were bright.
She tried not to stare as he stripped down to board shorts, but it was impossible not to notice his body. He had such an amazing body—a big, muscular chest and honed, chiseled abs, great legs, lovely muscular arms. He eased into the pool next to her, sinking into the warm water with an appreciative sigh.
“Have you tried the hot tub?” he asked, after dipping all the way under and surfacing again.
“I did but it wasn’t much warmer than the pool,” she answered, admiring the way his biceps bunched as he sluiced water back from his face.
“I could try to turn up the heat.”
“That’s against the rules. There is a whole list of rules posted by the hot tub.”
“But if it’s too cold?”
“I think it’s a cost-saving measure.”
“A hot tub is supposed to be hot.”
“You could get in trouble.”
“Who is going to see?”
“I wouldn’t do it. It’s not worth it.”
“What are they going to do? Kick me out of the pool? Send me home? I’m not worried.”
He climbed from the pool and walked behind the small screen blocking the pool equipment. The freezing air didn’t seem to bother him at all. After a minute he returned, disappointed. “They’ve got the thermostat locked down. I can’t get it higher.”
The lodge door opened as he stepped back into the pool. A middle-aged man wearing dark trousers and a matching vest came out, a resort name tag pinned to his vest. “It’s against the rules to tamper with the pool controls,” the lodge employee said irritably. “Please observe the posted rules, or refrain from using the premises.”
Douglas smiled unapologetically, which didn’t seem to go over well with the resort employee.
“What are your room numbers?” the man asked.
“Why? Are you going to report us?” Douglas drawled, sinking deeper into the water, and tipping his head back against the tiled edge of the pool.
“It’s within my jurisdiction to fine you, or remove you from the premises.”
Charity shot Douglas an alarmed glance but he seemed to find the whole thing amusing. “It’s alright, buddy. No need to get worked up. I was just concerned that your hot tub isn’t hot, but on the lukewarm side.”
“It’s not lukewarm. It’s a very pleasant ninety-eight degrees.”
“Don’t most people prefer a hot tub closer to 104?”
“That’s excessively hot, and dangerous when combined with drinking.”
“But we’re not drinking. And a little warmer would be nicer. Could we possibly request you set it to 102?”
“It’s at a proper temperature right where it is. If you’re not happy—”
“I’m happy, Phil. That is your name, right?” Douglas interrupted pleasantly, his bright eyes gleaming with mischief. “I was just thinking I could be happier, but if that’s not in your jurisdiction, I’m fine.”
Charity could tell Douglas was enjoying himself. Poor Phil wasn’t having such a good time. “We’re good,” she said, giving Phil a sunny smile. “And I’ll be sure Douglas doesn’t touch the controls anymore. Sorry about that.”
Phil walked off in a huff and Douglas continued smiling as the door closed behind the resort employee.
“You almost got us thrown out of here,” she said to him.
He shrugged, utterly unrepentant. “Phil could work on his customer service skills.”
“I don’t think he really cared about making us happy.”
“Which is a problem for a place already struggling financially.”
She swam toward him and propped herself on the wall. “Do you think the situation here is really bad?”
He was silent a moment. “I think this could be their last winter if something doesn’t change.”
“Can your friend sell?”
“It’s an option, but he wouldn’t get all his money back, and he’s sunk everything into the place.”
She squared her shoulders and gave a little nod. “Then we just have to make sure we help him find his customers. They are out there. We just need to help spread the word.”
Douglas’s gaze swept her face and he gave her a slow smile. “Challenge accepted.”
There was something in his warm blue gaze that made her heart melt and then, when he smiled that slow easy smile, her pulse jumped and she felt an electric little zing throughout her body.
He was something, he really was. And she had to be careful, so careful, because falling for him would be serious trouble.
*
He remained serious trouble, too, as during the next three days they continued sitting next to each other during presentations, and walking side by side during activities. They always ended up at the same table for meals, and he became her plus one in the chairlift up the mountain, and then again for the sleigh ride that circled the frozen lake.
It had been a long time since anyone made her feel so good about herself and Charity told herself to be grateful, and to focus on the moment because outside this lovely little bubble of Wyoming, they had nothing in common. There was no point in even considering more with Douglas. He was a city sportswriter, and she was a small-town girl, and if she wasn’t willing to move thirty minutes away to the Wyatt ranch in Paradise Valley, how could Seattle be an option? It wasn’t. And he wasn’t. And yet the attraction was always there. She never felt more alive than when he was close.
Just watching him enter the room made her heart beat a little faster, and when he looked at her, she couldn’t help but smile.
He was beautiful, and smart, funny and kind. Kinder to her than any man had been in years. Maybe that was the part that bowled her over. He was truly the complete package, possessing strength and warmth and surprising humility.
And now their trip was nearly over. This was their last night in Wyoming. Tomorrow they’d say goodbye.
Charity stepped off the ice rink to relace her boot, wishing she’d brought her own skates from home as she was finding it hard to get this pair to fit properly. She loved ice skating, too. It was actually something she could do well, and she was eager to show off a little for Douglas, who was out on the ice already, assisting some of the older women. Tonight’s party at the ice rink was the final activity and she smiled as he shifted from one timid travel agent to the other, steadying wobbly skaters, and encouraging others to let go of the railing.
And then Douglas lifted his head and looked at her, and gave her that smile of his that made her pulse jump and her body hum. Thank goodness she came this week.
She rose from the wooden bench and stepped out onto the ice, and it felt like she had wings on her feet as she skated toward him. He held out a hand to her and a rush of pleasure swept through her as Douglas took her hand, and they skated around the ice.
He lifted an eyebrow at her, as they circled a second time. She arched a brow back, daring him, and in wordless agreement. They picked up speed, skating faster, feet crossing, blades scraping as they pushed through the turns, the cold night air filling their lungs. This, she thought, cheeks burning, heart pumping, was pure joy.
They were making their fourth sweep when one of the agents limping around the side tried to pass another agent, and somehow went staggering toward the middle of the ice instead of back to the railing. The agent yelped as she sailed out of control, arms flapping. Her terror created panic in the others and before Charity fully understood what was happening or why, there were travel agents falling right and left, littering the ice.
Douglas tried to slow the very first agent, but she flung herself at him, bringing them both down.
Charity started to laugh, and kept laughing as she glanced around the ice. Everyone was down. Not a single person—but her—remained on their feet.
And then Douglas reached up, caught her sleeve and pulled her down, too. She didn’t fall hard, but the ice was cold and she felt the chilly dampness through her knit leggings. “That’s so unfair,” she protested as she scrambled back to her feet. “I’ll get you back, Douglas. Just you wait.”
He gave her a look that made her go all warm and mushy on the inside and then he was drawing the older ladies up off the ice, one by one.
Finally the ice was clear and Charity leaned on the wall, watching Douglas skate back to her. His gaze locked with hers, his blue eyes so warm.
She felt a thrill as he neared her. He wasn’t hers, but he was. She’d always remember this week. Douglas had been such great company.
He skated off the ice and took a position at the wall next to her, his big frame brushing hers as he leaned against the railing. He didn’t move away, either. He stood there, touching her and it felt right. Her heart raced. She wanted his arms around her. She wondered how he kissed.
Charity tried not to stare at his mouth. Not easy when he was standing this close, and his lips were just above hers, those firm lovely lips curved in a rueful smile.
“Planning your revenge?” he teased her, reaching out to pluck a long tendril of blonde hair from her cheek before smoothing it back behind her ear.
“Just you wait.”
“So you keep saying.”
“It’ll be good.”
“I hope so.” And his smile grew wider, whiter.
Her chest seized, air bottling in her lungs. She had to be careful. She wasn’t being careful. She was feeling too much, falling too hard, too fast. She wasn’t strong enough to be hurt again.
Charity made a show of wiping the frost from her mittens and then brushed more ice from her backside. “That was epic out there,” she said, trying for a lightness she didn’t feel. “It was like roller derby ice-skating.”
“Apparently Marianne used to skate, a very long time ago,” he said, referring to the California travel agent that had careened across the outdoor rink, wildly out of control.
“Thankfully you broke her fall.”
“I was terrified she’d break a hip.”
“The dangers of putting seniors on the ice.”
“And beautiful women like you,” he added, tugging on her knit cap. “Are you okay? Break anything? Hip, elbow, knee?”
His touch sent a frisson of pleasure through her. “No.” She smiled up at him. “Despite my encounter with the ice.”
“I couldn’t have you feeling left out.”
“You mean you couldn’t bear to have me still standing, when you were on your butt?”
“I was just looking out for you. I wanted you to know you will always be on my team.”
His team.
Charity was so close to telling him the truth. She wanted to come clean and confess she wasn’t Tricia Thorpe from Marietta Travel but Charity Wright, the receptionist at Melk Realty, but she’d made Tricia a promise and she’d keep her promise. “Thanks for putting me on your team,” she said. “It’s been fun.”
“I’m not saying goodbye to you, kiddo. You’re stuck with me, you know.”
She smiled crookedly, touched, but aware it wouldn’t play out that way. He might mean to stay in touch but things would come up. Feelings would change. This here at Little Teton was just what it was—a brief escape, an innocent romance—which was never meant to last in the real world.
“By the way,” he added, “you can skate.”
“I was thinking the same thing about you,” she answered.
“I played a lot of hockey growing up,” he said.
“Who knew?” she murmured, transfixed by his face, and his lips, wanting his mouth on hers, wanting to feel his kiss.
“When do you head back to Seattle?” she blurted, trying to focus on anything but his lovely face so very close to hers.
“Next week.”
“What will you do until then?”
“Poke around here, do a little more research.”
“I can’t wait to read your article. You’ll have to send me a link once it’s—” She broke off as Marianne appeared and gave Douglas a grateful hug for saving her.
“My pleasure,” he assured her gallantly.
Marianne beamed. “Your mother raised you right. You’re such a gentleman. Tell her I approve.”
His smile faded. His head momentarily dipped. “Will do,” he said gruffly.
He was quiet after Marianne and her friends continued on. Charity looked up at him, wondering what had happened to change the mood. He’d been so relaxed a moment before but he suddenly seemed pensive.
“You okay?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced out at the still-empty rink. “Do you want to get back out there, or have you had enough?”
She swiped her still-damp backside. “I think I’m done.”
“Wish we had another couple days here,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed this here with you.”
“You were just the tonic I needed. Thank you.”
“You’re such a sweetheart.”
She didn’t know which made her more breathless, his deep voice or the words he’d said. You’re a sweetheart. Somehow he made it sound like the most wonderful endearment she’d ever heard.
“You deserve to be happy,” he added. “Demand happiness from life. Don’t accept anything less.”
The lump was back in her throat. He had this incredible ability to make her feel special and warm, gloriously warm. “I’ll remember that.”
He smiled down at her. “Do.”
*
He really needed to stop smiling at her. He was making her feel things and she couldn’t possibly feel more, not when she was already tingling from head to toe. “Did you play other sports besides hockey?”
“Football, basketball… baseball.”
“Did you play sports in college?”
“I did.”
“When did you stop playing to be a writer?”
“When I realized you can’t play forever.”
She grimaced. “True. You have to pay bills.”
He laughed, a big laugh that was another deep rumble, and then his head dropped and his mouth covered hers.
The kiss was light and yet electric. She felt every little bit of her come to life.
He deepened the kiss, her lips parting beneath the pressure of his, and her head spun.
This kiss made her yearn for happiness and magic. If only happy-ever-afters really did come true. Because at thirty she was beginning to be afraid, wracked with doubt that the happy-ever-after would happen for her.
And just like that, reality returned.
She remembered who she was and where she was and this beautiful, magical kiss was a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling back. “As much as I want to kiss you, I shouldn’t. My life is a mess and this isn’t going to help.”
“No, I’m sorry.” He took a step back, putting space between them.
“It’s the timing,” she said. “If the timing was different, or we lived closer, maybe it’d make more sense.” She swallowed hard, feeling completely ridiculous because she’d wanted his kiss, and the kiss had been incredible. “I hope this doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends. I could use you as a friend—”
“I already told you, we’re on the same team. You’re stuck with me.”
She struggled to smile. “Good.”
“And I am sorry about the kiss. I totally misread the situation. I’m embarrassed—”
“Don’t be. I wanted you to kiss me.” Her lips twisted, her expression glum. “The problem was, you kiss really good. Far too good.”
For a moment there was just silence, and for the first time since they met, it wasn’t an easy, comfortable silence, and it crossed Charity’s mind that it was already changing between them.
All it had taken was a kiss.
She shouldn’t have wanted his kiss. She shouldn’t have savored his attention. She’d come to Little Teton to escape the fire, not throw herself headfirst into the frying pan.
“It would be great to stay in touch. That way if I’m ever in Seattle, we could have dinner, or if you’re ever this way again, we could meet for a drink or coffee.”
“That would be great,” he said. “Where do you live?”
“Montana. A little town outside Bozeman.”
He gave her an odd look. “What’s the name of your travel agency?”
“Marietta Travel.”
“You’re from Marietta?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
His expression was almost incredulous. “I have.”