And Then You Fall (Crested Butte Series) (2 page)

“What?”

“Didn’t you know that? Rice? His grandfather was one of the developers of the ski area. At one point I think the family owned most of the businesses downtown.”

“How do you know all this?”

“What do you think those magazines they leave in hotel rooms are for? Haven’t you ever read the history of Crested Butte? We’ve been coming here at least once a year since I learned to ski.”

Liv had no idea. No, she hadn’t ever read any of the magazines in the hotel rooms. She was a single mom, she had her hands full unloading bags and getting skis and boots and snow clothes ready. Then figuring out where they’d go for dinner and how she’d entertain her daughter until bedtime. Not that Renie wasn’t helpful, or able to entertain herself, but most of the responsibility for everything they did fell on Liv’s shoulders. It had been that way since Renie was born. By the time she fell into bed each night, Liv had no energy left to read a book, or a magazine. It was true at home and worse when they traveled.

“By the way, I didn’t
meet
him at Red Rocks, we saw him
play
at Red Rocks.”

“But he’s the guy who came up and introduced himself to you after the show, I know he is. Look.” Renie pointed to the photo behind the bar that Liv hadn’t noticed. “See, that’s him right there.”

Sure enough. It was him. Right there. Liv felt the familiar ache between her legs as she looked at the photo. There was something about that man, and his music, that made her quiver just thinking about him. She shuddered.
I cannot think this way. I’m with my daughter. What is wrong with me?

“And, wow! There he is,” Renie pointed behind her mom.

Liv turned to see Ben stop to greet customers as he took off his red and black plaid Woolrich jacket and hung it on the coat rack inside the door. The man was a god. Well over six feet tall, he had the broad shoulders of an athlete. He was muscular, not body-builder muscular, but definitely hard-as-rock muscular. He reached up to put his straw cowboy hat on the rack with his jacket and Liv remembered he kept his head clean shaven.

He turned and looked straight at her, bestowing one of his charming smiles on her.

“Hey little lady,” he said, reaching for her hand. “It’s good to see you again.”

Liv figured he had no idea whether he’d seen her before or not, and even if she was vaguely familiar, she was sure he didn’t remember from where.

“You were at the show at Red Rocks last summer.”

Gah
.
Liv almost swallowed her tongue as Ben turned and gave Renie the same warm welcome.

Oh no.
This was the worst thing imaginable. Liv was full-on imagining this guy naked, the one who was talking to her twenty-one-year-old daughter. What if Ben was interested in Renie?

“What’s wrong?” Renie turned and looked at her. Which part of that had she said out loud? Ben was looking at her too.

“Um . . . nothing, I just realized that I left the iron on in the hotel room. I should probably head back. Renie, do you want to take me to the hotel, and then you can come back, of course. If you want to.”

“Mom, I turned the iron off. You didn’t even use it.”

Damn. It wasn’t as though she could come up with another emergency reason to leave. But there was no way she could sit on this bar stool and watch her daughter be wooed by a man who made her heart race the way Ben did.

“Good, you can stay. What’re you drinking?”

“I’ll just have another beer,” Liv heard herself say. Where had that come from? She couldn’t stay, she couldn’t watch this, it would be like watching the train wreck of her non-existent sex life. And her own daughter would be driving the train.

“That’s my girl,” she heard Ben say. Who was he talking to? Her
, or Renie? Her heart was beating so hard she could barely hear herself think.

And where was Renie anyway? Liv saw her a couple stools over, talking to one of the guys who came in when Ben did. She was resting her hand on his forearm and leaning into him as he talked.

A wall of male blocked her line of sight as Ben maneuvered his way back to the bar stool Renie had vacated.

“Here you go. So tell me, what brings you to Crested Butte? You don’t live around here. I mean, I’d know if you did.”

“Skiing,” she answered between drinks of her beer. “My daughter goes back to school in a few days and we thought we’d sneak a quick trip in before she did.”

“I’m Ben,” he said, sheepishly. “I’m not sure if you remember.”

“And I’m Liv.” Of course she remembered. He was just trying to be polite because he hadn’t.

“It’s nice to meet you again, Liv.” He glanced at her near-empty beer, the one he had just gotten for her. She was so nervous she had practically chugged it.

“You need to be mindful of the altitude up here little lady. Beer goes to your head a lot quicker at 9,000 feet than it does in . . .”

“Monument. I’m from Monument. Do you know where that is?” She felt the same way she had at Red Rocks, she could barely look at him, he was just so . . . hot.

“Is that near Denver, or is it Colorado Springs?”

“Both, it’s pretty much right between the two. And we’re at 7,000 feet. But you’re right, I must’ve been more thirsty than I thought. Listen, I’m going to take the shuttle back to the ski area. Can you let Renie know I left her these and I’ll see her back at the hotel?”

Liv set her car keys on the bar, turned, and fled. As little as she was, five foot four and one hundred and twenty-five pounds, she could weave her way in and out of the crowd forming in the popular bar.

Please don’t let him follow me, please don’t let him follow me,
she pleaded over and over again silently. The shuttle was only a few feet from her and she jumped on just before the driver closed the door on her.

“You’re my only passenger this run ma’am. Where’re you headed?”

“The Grand, thanks.”

Liv sat in the first row of the bus and buried her hands in her face. What had she been thinking? Oh my God, she’d just left her daughter in a bar. Alone.

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, pulled it out, and saw Renie’s name on the caller id.

“Mom, where are you?”

“I’m sorry, I felt sick. I think it’s the altitude.” The driver turned around and glared at her. Maybe he thought she was going to get sick in his shuttle bus. She waved her hand and mouthed, “I’m okay,” which seemed to assuage him.

“What? I can’t hear you. Where are you?”

“I’m on the shuttle,” she shouted into the phone.

“Why?”

“I don’t feel well.” She was practically screaming into her phone. The shuttle driver was going to pull over and kick her off the bus.

“Okay, I’ll meet you at the hotel. I’ll leave now.”

Liv hit the off button on her phone. There was no point in continuing to scream at her daughter. And now that she’d ruined Renie’s good time, she could rest easy that she was on her way back to the hotel, and at least safe. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. That was the second time she’d raced away from him. What was it about this man that made her want to run as fast and as far as she could in the opposite direction?

It wasn’t as though all men had this effect on her. Or that she hadn’t dated. She had dated plenty over the last twenty years, or maybe the last ten. And maybe not plenty, but some. Before that she had her hands full raising her daughter by herself, and never would’ve had the time to think about dating.

“Ma’am, we’re here,” the shuttle driver said, startling her.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Thank you.” She pressed a five dollar bill in the receptacle, hoping he’d consider that enough of a tip.

“Thank you ma’am and I hope you’re feeling better,” she heard him say as the doors closed behind her.

Her car was in the parking lot and Renie was climbing out of it as she walked up.

“What was that all about?”

“I think I drank my beer too fast. That and the crowd in the bar—I felt very overwhelmed. I’m so sorry I ruined our night out together.”

“It’s okay. I was just really worried about you. If we stayed any longer we wouldn’t have felt like skiing tomorrow anyway. Here.”

Renie passed a piece of folded paper in her mother’s direction. “What’s this?”

“Ben’s number. He wants you to call him and let him know you’re okay.”

Could this night get any worse? Or more embarrassing? She crumbled up the paper in her pocket. There was no way she’d call him. By now he’d likely forgotten about the crazy old lady who ran out of his bar after finishing her beer in thirty seconds flat. Thank goodness she’d never have to see him again.

***

Ben recognized the petite ash blonde as soon as he saw her sitting at the bar. Liv, that was her name. The first time he saw her, after they played at Red Rocks, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She was with friends, sitting in the row in front of him at the show.

She had turned to look at him and when her bright blue eyes met his and she smiled, he felt as though the air had left his lungs. God, she was beautiful—one of the most naturally beautiful women he’d ever seen.

For the next two hours he watched her. It was apparent that she loved music—and she felt it. Not everyone did. She danced, she laughed, she smiled, she lived. That was why he remembered her name when he introduced himself at the end of the show.

“I’m Liv,” she’d said. And he was ready to. He’d endured too many struggles in the last few years. He’d worked so hard to keep the music, the band going. He wasn’t going to give up. This was his year. They were going to take it to the next level. No more local clubs, this was the year they’d tour nationally, he could just feel it. Their new album was about to drop, and he felt good things about this one, it was better than any they’d released before.

When he saw her again tonight, he knew that fate had brought her here to him for the second time, to remind him not to lose focus, keep his eye on the prize, to keep living. One day at a time.

Besides her beauty, which she seemed completely unaware of, there was something about her that made him yearn to know her better, but for some reason, he made her skittish. Maybe she wasn’t feeling the same magnetic pull he was to her. Or, maybe she was feeling it and that is what made her run away from him. The draw he felt to her was so strong. If he wasn’t so sure he was ready for it, it would’ve scared the hell out of him too.

***

“Do you want a Bloody Mary or are you ready to move onto something else?” Paige was tapping her on the shoulder.

“What? Oh, yes, a Bloody Mary
, please.”

“Were you sleeping?”

“I must’ve drifted off. I’m sorry.”

“You’re here to relax, as you keep reminding me, so quit apologizing. I’ll be right back. And put some sunscreen on before you fall asleep again.”

Liv hadn’t been asleep, just thinking about Ben Rice, again. She pulled out her phone and checked Twitter. Nothing. Then Facebook. Nothing. She knew he wasn’t here yet, he had that benefit at home tonight. Wait, was it tonight, or had it been last night? She checked again. Shit. It had been last night. Now she’d never relax. He could actually be here already.

Chapter 2

Ben Rice started skiing and playing guitar before he could read, just like his dad and grandfather before him. When he was in high school, he formed a band that he named CB Rice, in honor of his hometown, Crested Butte, and his family. It confused people. They’d call him CB. That was his band, he was Ben. It didn’t take long before he got used to it. If someone called him CB, he knew they were a stranger. If they called him Ben, they were a friend.

Making music was the only thing he’d ever wanted to do. Twenty-five years, hundreds of shows, and a half dozen albums later, he was still doing it. He loved it, more than anything.

Performing, hearing the crowds, watching them get into his music—there wasn’t much in life that did it for him the way being on stage did. He’d given up a lot in his life, but that’s one thing he never would. He’d be performing until the day he died. Yeah, that kind of attention you got addicted to, and it was one he couldn’t live without.

He toured as much as he could with his band. They averaged some one hundred shows a year, mostly in Colorado. But he expected that to change. The band was solid. They’d even played Red Rocks, which had always been a dream.

He considered himself an average guy, even if his grandfather was one of the original developers of the Crested Butte ski area. He’d worked for his family all his life. He didn’t mind hard work. When he wasn’t touring he spent a lot of time at the Goat, his family’s bar and restaurant.

Ben learned the importance of giving back to the community from his parents and grandparents. He and the band performed countless benefit concerts over the years for medical research, and for patients faced with life-threatening illnesses, like cancer, who didn’t have insurance.

When he was thirty-seven he had been diagnosed with cancer himself. It was the same year he and his wife divorced. He fought both the disease and an ugly custody battle at the same time. He’d gone through the standard treatments, and to this day, was cancer-free. When he was home, his two boys stayed with him as much as they did with their mother.

A little over a year ago his family and band mates staged an intervention, he spent a couple of weeks in rehab and quit drinking. Battling every day with alcoholism was the hardest thing he’d ever done—harder than fighting cancer, harder than watching his marriage and his family fall apart. But, he had a year of sobriety under his belt and he’d never felt better.

It was harder to fight the urge to drink when he was on the road with the band, especially when they’d arrive at a gig and there’d be a case of beer and a bottle of Jack waiting for them. He didn’t struggle with it as much when he was at home, especially when he was at his family’s bar. So many people there knew him. He’d get distracted by conversation, or if he was really tempted to have a drink, he’d walk over, pick up his guitar, and start to play. Once the crowd started to get into the music, the adrenaline rush from that was enough to take the other cravings away.

Singing, performing brought him back. It reminded him not to give up, not to let go of how far he’d come. Not give up on his kids, not give up on himself, and not give up on his life. Giving up on his marriage had been hard, but when he looked back on it, he and his ex were better off apart. He believed, deep in his soul, that there was someone else out there for him, someone he was meant to spend the rest of his life with. He also believed that fate would put her in his path—all he had to do was keep his eyes open and recognize when it happened.

He and the band were in Las Vegas to play an annual fundraiser. It had started out as a benefit for a hometown girl who relocated from Crested Butte to Vegas years before. They’d gone to high school together, and she was a bartender at the House of Blues. When the manager found out how hard she was struggling to make ends meet, he’d called Ben, and arranged the benefit. Sandy Smith had lost her fight with the disease, but the benefit lived on. In its fourth year, it raised funds for cancer research. Mandalay Bay kicked in a hefty chunk of change as did the House of Blues. Last year they’d raised over two million dollars. This year they were hoping to double it.

It would be an all-day event, tickets were $100 a piece. CB Rice was slated to go on right before the main headliner, who Ben had asked to play when they’d opened for them at Red Rocks. The lead singer’s wife had battled cancer herself, so the band had been quick to agree to participate.

There wasn’t much for him to do today, but he flew in early anyway. It wasn’t his event, or even his fundraiser anymore, yet he still took responsibility for it, and wanted to make sure he was here to help if he was needed. It meant an extra day away from home, which was always hard, but it was for a good cause.

He pulled out his cell and dialed his son Jake’s number as he walked through the casino in the direction of the pool.

“Hey Dad.”

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Okay.”

Typical tween on the phone, he probably should have just texted him. “I’m good. I’m headed out to the pool. This place is like a giant water park. I should have brought you and your brother with me. Next year. Remind me, okay?”

“Okay Dad. Sounds good. Wanna talk to Luke?”

“Yeah I do, but Jake, wait. I miss you, and I love you.”

“I love you too Dad. I’ll see you in a couple days.”

“Okay man. Behave.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s not a big deal okay? You’ll be home day after tomorrow.”

Jeez, his kid slayed him. “I know, it’s just two days too many.”

“Yeah, here’s Luke.”

“Hey Daddy. Where are you?”

Luke was only nine, and still had a little boy’s voice. At twelve, Jake’s voice was starting to change. Sometimes he sounded like a little boy and sometimes he sounded like a man. And then at other times he sounded like some kind of screeching prehistoric bird. God he missed his kids.

“I’m in Las Vegas buddy, and next year when I come to play this show, I’ll bring you and your brother along. You’d love this place. There are wave pools and a lazy river and all kinds of slides and other stuff you can play on. There’s even a beach.”

Silence.

“Luke, are you there?”

“Yeah. I’m here. I miss you Daddy.”

“I miss you too bud. I’ll be home in a couple days.”

“Okay. Bye.” Click.

Oh well, at least he got to talk to them for a few minutes.

He opened up Instagram. He’d take a few shots, text them to the boys and maybe post some stuff on Twitter and Facebook about the show tomorrow. They weren’t sold out—yet. And he wanted them to be.

He stood in place and turned in a circle, taking shots as he turned. He was able to fit most of the pool-side marquee announcing the show into one.

The band had a cabana reserved and it looked as though he wasn’t the first one here. He grabbed a towel and threw it on one of the lounge chairs, tossed his phone on the table, and reached around to pull his shirt off over his head. A couple hours by the pool wouldn’t hurt anything at all. He didn’t remember the last time he had a whole day with so little to do. Forced rest, he’d take it.

He sat down and picked up his phone, scrolling through the photos he’d just taken. He texted several to Jake and then went back through them trying to decide which ones he should post. He zoomed in to take a closer look. Most of them he zipped through pretty fast, not post worthy.

Wait. He went back to the one he was just looking at and used two fingers on the screen to zoom in closer. There was a woman in the background who looked so familiar. Who was she? He studied it but it was too out of focus. He stood and looked around. He looked at the photo again, trying to figure out where she would be sitting based on the other landmarks. Damn, he didn’t see her.

He wandered out of the cabana area, searching. There was just something about her familiarity that tugged at him. He needed to find her.

He walked over by the lazy river and waited as people floated past him. He stood there for what felt like an eternity, until he started seeing the same people float past him, again and again. He turned to leave, and bumped straight into an inner tube.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I can’t see where I’m going,” a tiny voice giggled from behind the giant pink tube. Ben lifted it out of the woman’s hands and came face to face with her—Liv. Even with as out of focus as the photo had been, he’d known who it was. This was the third time in less than a year that fate put her in his path. This time he wasn’t going to let her go.

Liv gasped. And then got very dizzy. She heard him asking her if she was okay. He set the inner tube down and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Liv, look at me. Are you okay?”

She looked into his devastatingly big blue eyes and couldn’t decide whether she was going to die, right there on the spot, or if she’d never been as okay as she was at that moment.

“Hell-o? Liv? Anybody home?”

That was a different voice. Oh, that was Paige’s voice. And those were Paige’s hands waving in front of her face. How long had she been standing there, frozen?

“What? Yes, I’m okay. I’m so sorry, I couldn’t see where I was going.” Liv turned to pick up the inner tube and hightail it out of there.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re not getting away so fast this time.” Ben picked up the tube and held it far enough away that she couldn’t reach it. Considering he was a foot taller than she was, he didn’t have to hold it very high.

“Liv, it’s me, Ben.”

“Hi Ben. How are you?”

“How am I? Don’t you think it’s a little wild running into me? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here on business and I made Liv come with me. I’m Paige. We met once before, briefly, at Red Rocks.”

Paige was talking. Thank God, that meant she didn’t have to. And Ben was answering her. More talking she didn’t have to do. Now if she could just curl up into a little ball and slink away without anyone noticing, she’d be fine. Oh, but wait, she wanted to listen to that voice just a little bit longer. She loved his voice—even when he was just talking.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

Oh crap. She was backing away from him. And he noticed. “Come with me. You, too, Paige.”

“Where are we going? Ow. Can you ease up a little bit please?”

Ben was holding her hand so tightly it hurt. “I’m not letting go this time Liv. If I do, I may never see you again.”

Once they were safely within the confines of the cabana, Ben pulled out a chair and pointed at it. “Please have a seat.”

When Liv didn’t sit, he took a step forward. “Liv, please.” He sounded more exasperated than he would’ve liked. Liv sat and he moved to the other side of the table, pulling a chair out for Paige.

He sat down in the chair closest to Liv. He wanted to sit and stare at her, memorize every line on her face and curve on her body. Here she was, sitting next to him, this woman who haunted his dreams, he knew he w
as destined to get to know her.

She was certainly a mystery.
Didn’t she recognize him?
It sounded like her friend did.

“Okay. Now that I think you may stay put for a minute . . . hi Liv. How are you? It’s nice bumping into you here.”

“Ha, ha,” she answered, looking away. He touched her cheek, turning her head so she’d look at him.

“Hi Ben, it’s nice bumping into you too.” She took a deep breath, and added, “I’m surprised you remember me.” She was looking down again. He didn’t want her to look down
he wanted her to look at him. He moved his hand from her cheek to her chin and lifted her gaze to his.

“Why do you always run from me?” he whispered.

Paige jumped up from her chair. “I think I’ll go get us a couple of drinks. Liv? Ben? What would you like?”

“Paige, please sit back down,” he calmly stated, without looking away from Liv. “We have cabana service. Tell me what you’d both like and I’ll order it for you.” He still hadn’t taken his eyes off Liv who looked like a deer in cross hairs.

“Liv, what would you like to drink?”

“Lemonade?”

“Is that a question or is it what you’d like to drink?”

“Lemonade, please.”

“Paige?”

“I need something a little stronger. I’ll have an Sea Breeze please.”

“I’ll be right back . . . I’m only walking a couple feet away . . . I’m ordering drinks . . . do not get up from the table . . .” He kept his voice low and free of any inflection, like a hypnotist.

He came back and pulled his chair even closer to Liv. “So—let’s start over, way back at the beginning. Why don’t we talk about how you bolt away from me every time I try to start a conversation with you? Is there something about me you don’t like?” He rubbed his head. “I’m bald. Is that it? You don’t like bald guys.”

“No, I like bald guys. I mean, there isn’t anything about you I don’t like. No, that isn’t what I mean. See? I can’t even put two thoughts together. I ‘bolt,’ as you put it, because I don’t want you to know I’m an idiot.”

Ben leaned back and la
ughed. She was so damned cute. She made him laugh. If there was one single thing he knew, she wasn’t bolting from him today. No way.