“Not at all. Your tits look great today,” he says, and the look of annoyance shifts to one of shock.
“Shut up,” I whisper-yell. “Someone is going to hear you.”
“Hear me what?” he laughs. “Complimenting you?”
“Hitting on me,” I correct him.
“Gee, I didn’t know I was. Silly me. So how about those slopes?” he asks as he stops in the doorway, barring me in. Elias’s kids run under and around us, and I give him an exhausted sigh, though it is brimmed with a smile.
“Unfortunately, my adrenaline isn’t a junkie. It prefers to stay at lower, less exciting levels and heights. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a wedding to supervise.”
I try to go around him, but this time he actually grabs me by the arm and swings me back around.
“And I have a wedding planner to supervise,” he says. It occurs to me that he isn’t going to stop until I agree to his charade.
“How about I come to the slopes with everyone and greet them at the bottom?” I ask.
“That doesn’t sound much like skiing,” he says, pulling me closer. My heart speeds up in my chest, partly because of his hands on my hips and partly because we might get caught.
“The bunny hill then,” I say.
“The bunny hill?” he asks. “You’ll go on the bunny hill?”
“I’ve never skied before, so it seems appropriate,” I answer, my eyes flashing between his face and the door. “Does it require using the lift?” I ask.
“No, it’s at the base of the mountain,” he answers.
“Good.”
“Great.”
“Perfect.”
“See you there,” he says, finally releasing me. I’d be kicking myself right now for what I just got myself into, except that I’m too busy trying to get my head to stop spinning.
* * *
“It’s easy once you get the hang of it,” Brody tells me before coasting down the hill. The bunny hill is not as small as I thoughtit’d be. It’s bigger than any sledding hill I ever went on as a kid. If I’d known it was going to be this big, I would have never agreed to do this.
“Sure, make it look easy,” I mutter as I stand with my rented boots glued to my rented skis. I’m gripping my rented poles or sticks or whatever the heck they’re called. If I didn’t have gloves on, you could see the white of my knuckles.
“Are you okay, Miss Charlotte?” Evie asks, and I smile down at her.
“Yeah, I’m just warming up,” I tell her with a forced smile.
“Do you want to go first?” she asks.
“No…no, why don’t you go?” I say, swallowing so I won’t throw up.
“Okay!” she smiles and with a whoosh she’s gone.
Unfortunately, she is the only one about to whoosh down. This hill is a mountain in my book, and I’m looking for the monorail down.
“You know, the best way to get to the bottom of the hill is to use those things stuck to your feet,” he jokes until he sees my face.
“I’m aware,” I snap. “But this was not my idea. It was yours. And I am having second thoughts.”
“Hey,” he says, moving closer to me. “It’s cake, I promise. Just remember the pizza stance and you’ll do fine. Tips closer together. Heels further–”
