“Within reason,” I added. “We have some neon over there, and I’d advise staying away from that.”
She ignored me and toured once through everything, fingers brushing the sleeves of jackets, the edges of boards, the tags on gloves. When she stopped, it was in front of a white-and-hot-pink set—sleek ski pants and a fitted jacket. My stomach sank.
“No,” I said.
“Oh, yes,” she replied, grinning, already pulling the hanger off the rack.
“That is the most ski-bunny outfit we carry.”
“And yet,” she held it up to herself, smirking, “it’s calling my name.”
“Lilah.”
“Holden.”
“I thought you’d go for more serious equipment,” I protested. “This outfit says, ‘I came to stand around and look pretty.’”
“Great. I can look goodandsnowboard then.” She drifted toward another display and plucked something that made my throat go dry— hot pink bikini. “Ooh, and this.”
I choked. “You’re not really going to wear that today.”
“Why not?” She turned the bikini top over in her hands, holding the cups of the top up to herself. “It looks fun. And dammit, I can be fun.”
“Last night and this morning you were definitely fun. Our fling must be bringing it out of you. But you don’t seem like the ski-bunny type.”
She arched a brow. “Really? Explain.”
“Yeah, you know,” I started, gesturing vaguely, “the ones who ski in bikini tops for attention, to catch every man’s eye.”
She stared at me, unimpressed. “You don’t think some of them wear bikini tops because theyliketo? Because it’s their body and they can do what they want with it? Once you’ve been sweating in a heavy coat for two hours, maybe you want one run where you feel the cold air on your skin?”
“Fair point.” I ran a hand through my hair, knowing when to retreat from a battle. Obviously, I wanted to see her in the sexiest outfit we sold here, too.
“Ring me up, Mr. Snowman.” She tossed the bikini onto the sales counter.
“I told you, on the house. I’m not charging you for a thing.”
She gave me the side-eye. “Holden.”
“Owner’s privilege. It has its perks.” I grabbed the scissors and started cutting off the tags.
Lilah’s lips curved. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But you’re now the proud owner of a ski-bunny starter kit, so Merry Christmas.”
“I didn’t expect this weekend to turn this friendly, so I’m afraid I don’t have a present for you.”
“Trust me, you’ve given plenty.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “You’re the gift that keeps on giving, remember.”
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. No matter what she wore, I was about to get her out on the slopes with me. To this old snowboarder, I’d call it a win.
All dressedup with sunscreen on our faces, we traveled through the tunnel and met Cal and Tom at the ski lift. As the best patrollers I’d hired last year, I trusted they'd made all the arrangements for us. I introduced them to Lilah, and invited them to come eat one night at the new restaurant after we opened, my treat for taking care of things this morning and having to work through the holiday.
We took the lift up to the bunny run, snow glittering under us in the sharp afternoon sun. She gazed out at the view. So did I—of her blonde hair stirring on a whisper of a breeze, and the white fur collar and pink accents of the snow bunnyoutfit bringing out a rosy hue to her cheeks.Mybeautiful little bunny…
She caught me staring, her eyes even a brighter blue reflecting from the snow. I cleared my throat and recovered quickly.
“Remember your front foot has control, okay? Keep your weight on it,” I advised.
