Crave (4 page)
Authors: Violet Vaughn
I breathe in the crisp winter air and focus. The sky is a gorgeous shade of blue with fluffy white clouds. It’s in the high twenties and perfect weather for skiing. No fresh snow and I’m glad. I haven’t quite mastered thigh-deep powder skiing and have no desire to fall numerous times in front of the ski school director. I apply sunscreen to my face as I wait for Blaine.
Within minutes, I see him walk toward me.
Huh.
Not what I expected at all. He’s dressed in beat-up-looking navy ski pants with an open, hip-length red jacket. I see a well-worn-looking purple fleece underneath. As he gets closer, I discover there’s silver duct tape on his thigh acting as a repair job. Not the fashion statement I would have guessed. He could have been plucked off a Vermont slope and dropped here. I am a little overdressed next to him. Not that I sport a rich-snow-bunny look. But I do have on white ski pants with a feminine purple and white jacket to match. My look is set off with the coral pink lipstick I wear to compliment my hair and eyes. Fortunately, my skis and boots say expert.
Blaine asks,“Sorry, am I late?”
“No, I’m one of those terminally early people. You have a couple more minutes before you’d be late.” I put my sunscreen in a pocket and zip it up.
He reaches out and touches my nose. Oh my. I catch a whiff of something that says all male in a subtle way.
“You’ve got a little sunscreen that isn’t rubbed in.”
Right. Sunscreen. Wow, he has me a bit flustered. I recover quickly. “Shall we?”
“You bet.” His skis hit the ground with a thunk. I hear a click as we lock into our bindings. We slide into line.
“So, did Benjamin and Jenny make you breakfast Saturday morning?” Blaine bends over to adjust the buckles on his boot.
“They did.” There are very few people in line, and I notice this is a four-person chair. Blaine makes no effort to pair us up with anyone.
“Cereal and burnt toast?” We’re next to get on the chair. Yup, it’s just the two of us.
“Yes, and it was delicious. How did you know?” We slide out to the chair ramp.
He yells over the sound of the lift engine, “I’m the babysitter.”
Pulling the bar down, he turns to me. “Tim and Clara don’t get much time to themselves, so I take care of the kids while they go off on winter camping jaunts to get a break.”
“What a nice thing for you to do. I didn’t know they did that.” I lift up my left thigh and slide my poles beneath my bottom so I don’t have to hold them.
“Yup. Two tree huggers at heart. They skin up to some remote spot, camp out, and then spend their day tellying backcountry.”
“Tellying?”
“Telemark skiing.”
“Oh, free the heel, free the mind?” Telemark skiing is a hybrid of cross-country and downhill skiing. The skis have metal edges allowing one to carve a turn, but the bindings only attach the toe to the ski to enable uphill, cross-country moves.
He leans back in the chair and chuckles. “Exactly! I like that. So, I think I’ll take you on a few warm-up runs first. We meet with the director, Matt, at ten.”
It’s all or nothing. Clara assured me Tim thought I was a shoe-in for a kid’s instructor job. Especially since he is the supervisor for that part of the ski school. Yet I can’t help be nervous. Skiing is a bit of a man’s world, and women only impress when they can keep up with the boys. I have skied with the guys most of my life and am as fast as most of them. I just don’t always look that good. I hope this isn’t quite the testosterone fest I fear.
A few quick runs and my spirits are high. Blaine led most of the way and I’m thankful. I know his day is all about watching people ski and making them better. It makes me a bit self-conscious because I know I don’t have perfect form. He, on the other hand, is a joy to watch. Bumps are my thing, and I didn’t mind when he stopped to let me pass. I even got an appreciative “Nice!” as I went by.
“Casey, you will be just fine. You ski well, and with a little fine tuning, you could be a top adult instructor if you wanted.”
“Really? Thanks.” I can’t help it. I have a big, silly grin on my face. Blaine sure knows how to make people feel good. I’m glad I get to spend the afternoon with him.
Dropping me off with Matt, Blaine tells me we’ll meet for lunch. Two hours later, I’m walking on cloud nine. I have a job for next winter! Matt told me I could teach kids or adults. I can’t believe it. A few more months and I can hang up my toilet brush. I practically skip over to Blaine in the lodge.
“I’m going to guess it went well. You’re smiling from ear-to-ear.”
I throw my gloves down on the table. “Kids or adults. How fantastic is that?”
“Nice job.” He has stripped down to his ski pants and turtleneck, a rather tight turtleneck that shows off his fine-tuned body.
I sit down at the table with him and take a sandwich out of my pocket. He looks over at me with a smile. “My kind of girl. Whatcha got?” He reaches in his coat pocket for a sandwich of his own.
“Peanut butter and jelly, you?” I take a bite.
“Same.”
“I know I’m kind of intense here, but could we just fill our water and eat on the chair? I’m dying to just ski.”
He tilts his head to the side and stares at me.
“I’m sorry. We can eat here. It’s fine.” I shake my head and put down my wrapper.
“No. I was just thinking. You aren’t what I expected. You seem too girly to be such a trouper. I’m surprised, that’s all.” He returns his lunch to its ziplock bag.
“Girly?” Having not taken much clothing off, I get up from the table and start to walk away. After a few steps, I turn back toward Blaine. “Coming?”
He gathers up his gear. “Hang on. Geesh. Women!”
I laugh as I walk out the door into the bright sunshine.
It is a mind-blowing afternoon. I spend most of my time just following Blaine as he takes me all over the mountain. We ski trees and backcountry areas I never would have ventured into on my own. At one point I fly off a cliff before I know what’s happening. It’s apparent when I crash-land, ripping off equipment and gear. I’ll be a little sore tomorrow, but it was worth it.
“I know some great places for happy hour. Want to go?” Blaine asks. He has unzipped his jacket and taken off his helmet. I smell his musky, spiced scent and it’s tantalizing.
“If you’re okay with a nondrinker, I’d love to go.” I wipe the snow off my skis.
“You don’t drink? I thought you were drinking wine with Clara.” He hoists his skis over his shoulder.
I look at him. “I live in a boarding house, and the lady that runs it has strict rules. I can only drink on sleepovers.” Great, that sounds like I’m inviting myself to sleep over. A flush heats up my face.
“Let’s do hot chocolate instead. We can go to one of the more expensive hotels and sit by a fire. Sound good?”
Holy Cow. Where did this guy come from? Hot chocolate by a fire in a quiet place? He’s just one surprise after another. “It sounds fantastic. Let’s go.”
Blaine takes my skis and goes to store them safely in his locker. I head to the ladies room to do something about my helmet hair. Looking in the mirror, I see I have a goggle-face windburn. With my fair complexion, that’s as close to a tan I will ever see, and am happy I look like a local. With wet hands I fluff up my curls. I don’t look half bad. The one great thing about my hair is it never looks flat for long. A quick swipe of my favorite lipstick and I walk out the door. Blaine has just come up from the locker room. He took a little time to primp too. His hair is damp and combed. I smell that deliciously earth-spiced scent from earlier and it makes me smile. He cares about his appearance and it’s for me.
We walk for a bit before he leads me into a large hotel. The entrance is spectacular. Hardwood floors with Native-American-inspired throw rugs soften the clunk of our boots as we enter a massive lobby. Only lobby isn’t the right word for it. Post and beam, it’s more like a lodge. Soft light glows from the antler chandeliers. The scent of mulled cider drifts toward us as we head over to the bar. After ordering two hot chocolates, we walk to overstuffed leather chairs by a fire. Pulling two close together, Blaine takes my coat and drapes it over the back of my chair.
He says, “I’m going to take my boots off. Please don’t be horrified by the man smell.”
I lean forward so nobody else can hear. “I’m going to take mine off, too. I’m pretty sure you’ll be horrified by my woman smell. If anyone complains, I’ll blame it all on you. They’ll believe me. I hear I look too girly to have stinky feet.” I give him a mischievous smile.
He shakes his head. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
“Nope. Just you wait. I’m not joking.” I take off my boots and sure enough his nose crinkles.
“Wow, that sure is some womanly scent.” He chuckles.
I offer an exaggerated sigh. “Unfortunately, it isn’t just ski boots. So there you have it. My fatal flaw.”
“You’re a trip. I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl as honest as you are.” I frown before he adds, “That’s a good thing. I like it.”
A waitress comes over and hands us each a hot chocolate. I curl up in the chair with my cup in both hands. Warm chocolate coats my tongue when I take a sip. I let out a groan of appreciation. The sweet, light flavor of the whipped cream tells me it’s freshly made. “This is heaven. Who knew hot chocolate could taste so good?”
“I know. Not a bad tour guide, am I?” Blaine sinks back into his chair.
“No, you most certainly aren’t. Thank you so much for this. It’s the best ski day I’ve ever had.”
“You’re very welcome. I had a great time too.”
***
When we return to the locker room, he offers to walk me to my shuttle. Standing at the bus stop, I’m speechless. Wind blows my hair around my face. I want to see him again. A smile spreads across his face to encourage conversation and I ask, “Teaching tomorrow?” Pathetic. Of course he is.
“Yup. Cleaning toilets?”
“You know it,” I say. Wow, we’re grasping at straws here. He shifts his bag to his other shoulder.
“So when do you get to ski?” He has stepped a little closer. Or was it me?
I say, “Mondays and Tuesdays are my usual days off.” His face lights up a little, and I have a glimmer of hope.
He leans a little closer to me. “Would you like to ski again next Tuesday?”
My heart skips a beat. “Yes.” Finally. That’s what I was waiting for. “Let me give you my number.”
He takes out his phone and taps it in. The whine and gasp of brakes announce my shuttle. “That’s you. Great day, Casey.”
Blaine gives me a tiny wave and I get on the shuttle. Just like that and he’s gone. Dissatisfaction sets in. What did I think would happen? Get a grip. This wasn’t a date.
Besides, you’re not ready for a relationship, remember?
Clara is almost as excited for next Tuesday as I am. We’re cleaning a rental unit. I sprinkle powdered cleaner on the metal sink and scrub. She entertains me with “Blaine is so great” stories, but I try not to get my hopes up. Since he’s a constant topic of conversation, I wonder what happened to send him here. I know I should let Blaine tell me, but curiosity finally wins. I wipe hair out of my face with my sleeve. “Clara, what’s Blaine’s heartbreak story?”
“Heartbreak? He didn’t move here over heartbreak. Well, unless you consider that he missed Tim too much.” She snorts. Lemon scent drifts toward me as she dusts the wooden cabinets.
“Huh?”
“Oh, he and Tim are inseparable. When we moved here, I think Blaine was heartbroken. He came here a year ago and hasn’t dated anyone. That’s why I’m so thrilled about you guys. You’re two of my favorite people, and I want to see both of you happy in love. Which reminds me, you’ve never told me what was so awful that you moved to Colorado. Feel like sharing?”
No, not really. But she’s been a good friend and deserves to know some of it. I spray water to wash away swirls of white foam. “It was a combination of two breakups. The first was just sad. The guy I was in love with just wasn’t the one I was meant to be with. He never wanted to have a family, and you know how much I love children. The next guy, he was such a cliché I can’t even believe it happened. I walked in on my boyfriend having sex with his ex.”
“Whoa. The second one is brutal.” She flicks the duster over the TV. “Do you talk to the first guy at all?”
Jason.
I think about our last morning together. No, I don’t talk to him. But I do think about him. More than I care to admit. “No. I wasn’t very good about letting him get over me. It’s better if I leave him alone.”
I grab the bucket of cleaning supplies and head to the bathroom. The fluorescent light flickers, and I start to tear up. Damn it. I could have sworn I’d used them up all those months ago.