Just Perfect (6 page)

“Then let’s go do it.”

Over the course of the lesson, Christine had to remind herself constantly that Alec was off-limits. He was simply too much fun. And, oh man, could he ski! They spent the whole afternoon in the terrain park working on jumps. By the end of the session, her thighs screamed in agony, but her confidence soared at everything he’d taught her.

They finally left the park and stopped at the top of a run that would take them back down the mountain.

“Are you sure it’s been fourteen years since you skied?” he asked as they caught their breath.

“Honest to God,” she answered, laughing. Alec made her feel like laughing all the time, over every little thing.

He swiped his lips with lip balm as he surveyed the slope ahead of them. “Looks like we have this one practically to ourselves.” His eyes danced with mischief as he looked at her. “Race ya to the bottom.”

“Doesn’t the ski patrol frown on that?”

“Only if you’re reckless about it.” He adjusted his goggles. “Besides, I have connections.”

She shook her head at him, wishing he was a little less appealing. Although, even if she couldn’t date him, she could still enjoy his company. “Okay”—she got into position—“you’re on.”

“One two three go!” he said without warning and pushed off, shooting out ahead of her.

“You cheater!” she called as she took off after him. He carved a quick series of turns with a powerful grace that filled her with admiration. Losing, however, was not something she accepted without a fight. She poured on the speed, ignoring the burn in her muscles. Cold air slapped her face as the trees flew by.

Try as she might, though, she never stood a chance. She skidded to a halt at the bottom of the run several seconds after him, breathing hard.

“Not bad, Chris.” He nodded in approval as he lifted his goggles. “You almost made me work for it.”

“Braggart,” she accused good-naturedly as she removed her skis. People milled about them, either heading back for the lift lines, or calling it a day, as they were doing. “I would have caught you if you hadn’t given yourself a head start.”

“All’s fair…” He grinned, refusing to admit she actually had made him work for it. He’d needed the exertion, though, to work off the arousal that had been building all afternoon. He couldn’t decide what he wanted more, to get this woman naked, or simply sit and talk and get to know her better. Well, actually, he’d like to get naked, then get acquainted, but women always seemed to prefer the other order. He straightened from removing his skis. “How ‘bout that rain check?”

“Rain check?” She went still.

“Yeah. Yesterday you were too tired, but you should be adjusting to the altitude. Want to go have a drink in front of that roaring fire I mentioned?”

“Ah. Well. Hmm.”

He watched her struggle with her answer, sensing that she wanted to say yes. “Come on. Put your feet up on the hearth, sip a hot buttered rum.”

“I’d prefer coffee this early in the day.”

“Really? A woman after my own heart. If Harvey’s tending bar, he makes a wicked pot of joe.”

“I can’t. Really. I have things to do.”

“One cup. Just to thaw out.” He watched temptation battle restraint in her eyes. “Relax. Unwind.”

A frown wrinkled her brow. “I shouldn’t.”

Ah-ha
! “Can’t” had changed to “shouldn’t.” He smiled at her. “I’ll give you a foot massage.”

“In a bar?” Her eyes widened.

“We could go to my place if you’d rather.” He wiggled his brows.

“I’m afraid I have to pass.”

“On the coffee or the massage?”

“On all the above.” Regret tinged her voice. “I really do have things to do. Okay?”

Ah, but she wanted to say yes. He could see it in every line of her face as her eyes pleaded him not to tempt her any more. Yeah, right. Like he was going to give up when she clearly wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Encouraged, he leaned close and took on a German accent. “It is futile to resist. I will only wear you down with my charm.”

She struggled with a smile as she laid a gloved hand over his chest, as if afraid he’d try to kiss her. “Ah, but see, I’m allergic to charming men. Which is why I’ve been inoculated against them.”

“With the new charm vaccine?”
Tsk
ing, he laid his hand over hers. “I hate to tell you, but the serum is a failure. It wears off, and the minute it does, you’re doubly susceptible. Better to just give in now and enjoy the allergic reaction.”

“I can’t.” She stepped away, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I have things to do, and I’m determined to be good.”

“But being bad is so much more fun.”

“I know!”

“Then come to the pub.”

Her expression turned exasperated, which told him he’d lost. For today. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said and shouldered her skis.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be at St. Bernard’s,” he called as she headed for the locker room behind the ticket window. A smile split his face. Yep, she liked him, no doubt about it. He just had to get her to admit it.

Shouldering his own skis, he headed in the opposite direction, whistling as he went.

Aiming too high is better than settling for too low.

—
How
to
Have a Perfect Life

Christine wasn’t sure if she should be buoyant with pride for resisting temptation, or depressed because here she sat for the second evening in a row, alone, when she could be at a pub sipping a “wicked cup of joe” before a roaring fire with a man who made her laugh.

Going with depressed, she opened her laptop.

Subject:
I hope you two are happy
.

Message:
Turns out you were right. I picked another user. I honestly don’t know how this always happens. Do I have a sign across my chest that says “I love losers”? The deal is, I really like this guy
—
in spite of the fact that he’s unemployed and seems to spend a lot of time hanging out at a bar with “the guys.” What is wrong with me
!

Amy:
Oh, Christine, I’m sorry. I was really hoping you’d have better news to report
.

Maddy:
Me too, C. Don’t lose heart, though. I firmly believe we all have a perfect match out there, but as Jane said, you have to know what you want and refuse to settle for less
.

Christine typed
, I just want someone to love me
, then stopped. How sad did that sound? She hit the delete key to erase that line, and tried again:
Thanks, guys. I don’t know what I’d do without you
.

The following day, Christine was on her best behavior. She squelched a spurt of joy when she saw Alec waiting for her by the trail map, ignored the hitch in her breathing each time he smiled, resisted the urge to return his flirting, and completely denied the tingling in her belly when he touched her. Their time together flew by as it had the day before, and at the end of the lesson, she gave herself a mental pat on the back as she removed her skies.

She was being so good, she deserved a medal.

“Well”—she straightened with a polite smile— “thank you for another great lesson.”

“No problem.” He shouldered his skies. “You’re progressing really fast.”

“I hope so. Just a few more days to go before big brother gets here. So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Actually, if you’re heading for your condo, I’ll walk with you, since I’m heading into Central Village as well.”

“Oh.” That drew her up short. “Don’t you need to change your boots?”

“I left my stuff in the locker room.” Which he hadn’t done before, so he’d obviously planned this out ahead of time.

As they crossed the plaza, she did a quick mental scramble for a way out of walking with him through the village. On the slopes, they had the lesson to keep things safe, and the constraints of trying to talk while skiing. Walking side by side offered no barrier to talking.

He kept the conversation neutral, though, reviewing what they’d worked on that day as they racked their skies and entered the unisex locker room. The colorful clutter of clothes and gear littered the benches as skiers changed in and out of street cloths. Since everyone wore long johns, there wasn’t much point in retreating to the separate men’s and women’s rest rooms. Plus, most people were, like them, merely changing boots, which took only a minute.

Christine attached the carrying handle to her snow-caked ski boots while Alec left his gear in the locker he’d rented. When they stepped back out into the cold, she contemplated telling him she wasn’t going back to the condo, that she was headed down to East Village on an errand.

“Here, I’ll get those,” he said, retrieving her skis.

“What about yours?”

“I’ll get them later. Ready?” He lifted a challenging brow as if he’d read her mind about the phony errand. He also had a firm hold on her skis. What was she supposed to do—wrestle them away from him?

Besides, she was being silly. What harm would come from simply walking with him for a few minutes? It wasn’t like she planned to invite him inside when they reached the condo so they could neck on her parents’ sofa. Desire leapt in her belly at the idea. She ruthlessly pushed it back down.

“All right.” She nodded toward the skis. “Thanks.”

“Lead the way.” His smile had warmth sliding through her as they headed up one of the pedestrian malls.

What are you doing
? her conscience demanded.
You should have told him no
.

Oh, shut up
, another part of her argued back.
I’m just walking with him
.

She had a sudden image of herself strolling along the mall with miniature versions of herself on each shoulder, one dressed as an angel, the other wearing a red merry widow, carrying a pitchfork and sporting horns. The fact that the devil version looked exactly like the tattoo on her bottom probably said a lot about which one she listened to most often.

Not today, though
, she promised the angel.
Today, I’m going to be good
.

For distraction, she took in the shops along either side. Santas and elves abounded in the display windows. “They certainly go all out for the holidays here.”

He looked about. “They do all the holidays up right. It’s one of the things I love about living here.”

“You don’t become immune to it after a while?”

“Never.”

They continued past vacationers shopping for Christmas gifts and souvenirs. The scent of cookies baking wafted from a nearby pastry shop. Outdoor heaters allowed the shop to be open across the front and bathed them in warmth as they passed.

“Hey, Alec!” the attractive redhead behind the counter called.

“Hi, Bree,” he called back with a friendly wave, then looked at Christine. “Want a cookie? My treat.”

Her stomach rumbled, but she shook her head.

Stopping for a cookie would just prolong their walk. “No, but thank you.”

“I’ll catch ya later, Bree,” Alec called.

“I’ll be here.” The redhead’s flirtatious voice followed them as they moved past the pool of warmth.

Christine denied a little spurt of jealousy. She should be used to having people call Alec by name and wave. Half the residents of Silver Mountain seemed to know him. His popularity made sense, though. Moochers had to be charismatic to get by.