New Year's Wish

5

IT DIDN’T TAKE a Stephen Hawking–level genius to figure out that Lindsey wanted to be left alone. But Carter hadn’t achieved all he had in the world of snowboarding, or in life, by not going after what he wanted. And after last night, it was pretty damned clear to him that he still wanted more from her.

He took a shower, got dressed, ate the breakfast he’d ordered and then went out to find her. She worked at the lodge, and he suspected she must live pretty close to it. They’d both been serious athletes for the majority of their lives—if Lindsey was anything like him, she’d want to be close enough to the mountains to spend all her free time on the slopes.

He texted Will Spalding, the other groomsman from the wedding, whose girlfriend, Penny, was friends with Lindsey, asking if he knew how to get in touch with Lindsey.

He put his head on the steering wheel, feeling like a complete and utter fool.

This was nuts.

Will texted back that he’d ask Penny. A few seconds later he texted a phone number and the word why.

Yeah, Shaw, why do you need her number? he asked himself.

He texted that he wanted to talk to Lindsey about the event they were working on at the lodge and wished Will and Penny safe travels as they headed home later in the day.

He was still sitting in his rented SUV, trying to figure out which of the many slopes she’d been taking a run on this morning, when he caught a glimpse of her walking from her car to the lodge. She was wearing a pair of dark pink ski bibs and a cream-colored puffy jacket. Her Nordic blond hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, her hair held back by a ski band around her head.

She looked for all the world as she always had. As if nothing had changed.

He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking that maybe for her nothing had.

It hadn’t occurred to him until that moment that prim-and-proper Lindsey Collins, darling of the Alpine ski community, might have used him to get her rocks off on New Year’s Eve. It wasn’t the first time he’d been a woman’s illicit thrill, but on every other occasion he’d known what he was getting into. And he’d been prepared for it.

He’d thought Lindsey was different. He shut off his SUV, got out and followed her across the parking lot and up to the ski lodge and the après ski café. She sat at one of the tables nestled near the big fireplace and facing the slopes. The expression on her face wasn’t peaceful or serene.

She looked angry and lost.

Why was Lindsey upset?

Maybe he’d screwed things up when he’d taken her to his bed last night. Another sin to add to his list where this woman was concerned. He walked over to the bar, ordered two hot chocolates and then went to her table.

He set one down in front of her and took the seat next to her so he, too, could look up at the mountain.

“Carter.”

“Lindsey.”

She pulled the mug closer to her and wrapped her fingers around it, staring down into the whipped cream on the top like a fortune-teller searching for answers.

“What’s this for?”

“I’m not sure.” He raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “I think I might need to apologize.”

“For what? I know I should for walking out. But my head’s not in the right place this morning. I might do or say something stupid, so I figured I better clear out until...”

He got it. This he understood. He’d spent most of his life clearing out and searching for answers that he still hadn’t found.

“No need. I get that. Let’s start over,” he said.

“How? Do we pretend we never met at seventeen? Or do we act like last night never happened?”

“None of that. Let’s just start the morning over.” He reached over and clasped her hand in his. “I’m dying to get up on the slopes. You want to go with me?”

“I... Really? I thought you’d want to take it easy.”

“I didn’t anger all the resort owners here by taking them on and demanding they let snowboarders on the slopes just to be a douchebag. I did it because when I look at that mountain I see something I wanted to conquer. Besides, it was elitist to try to keep us out.”

“I never saw it that way,” she admitted, staring down at their entwined fingers. “But then, Alpine skiing is accepted everywhere.”

“So want to take on the slopes? We can race for real this time,” he said. “Not against the clock but against each other.”

She slowly withdrew her hand and took a sip of cocoa. “I can’t.”

He leaned back in his chair and glanced at her. She wasn’t watching him but was staring at the mountains again. “I’ll go easy on you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t go down the mountain.”

“Why not?”

She shook her head. “You were my bit of fun last night, Carter. We’re not friends and I—”

“I don’t see that you have any friends here right now. Not trying to be mean, but it’s obvious—even to this bit of fun—that you need someone.” He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check. “I’d like to think over the years I’ve at least showed you I’m not a total loser.”

“I never think of you that way,” she said, turning to face him.

He saw something in her expression that he’d never glimpsed there before. It was something more than fear, and if he had to define it, he’d say it looked a lot like disappointment.

“I’m scared, Carter. I can’t go down that damned mountain, because every time I’ve taken the ski lift up there I freeze. I’m fine showing kids what to do in their lessons, but I can’t go down a big slope.”

His anger instantly cooled. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Lindsey was afraid? It didn’t jive with the bold, fearless woman he’d always known. She’d been throwing herself down the toughest, fastest runs since she’d been ten, or something. She’d gone over sixty miles per hour routinely, and now she was afraid?

“Okay, fair enough,” he said. “But we’re going to get you over your fear.”

She shook her head and took another slip of her hot chocolate. “I don’t think so. You’re sweet to suggest it, but let’s face it, the only thing we’ve ever had between us is an adversarial—”

“We have more now. We spent the night in each other’s arms.”

“That was sex,” she reminded him. “You always act like sex is just a physical thing. Nothing emotional there.”

“Was it for you?” he asked in a low, deceptively calm voice.

“Wasn’t it for you?” she countered.

She gave nothing away. Why was he surprised? This was Lindsey Collins, and she never let him have an inch.

* * *

LINDSEY DIDN’T WANT to talk about her fears with Carter. In fact, the only thing she wanted was a distraction. God knew he provided her with that.

“I’m sorry I feel like I’m not myself this morning. That’s why I left. I can’t explain it very well, not even to myself.”

“What can’t you explain?” he asked, pinning her with his penetrating blue-gray gaze.

“Last night, until the moment you arrived at my table, I was looking at my future and trying to figure out what my next move would be.” She sighed. “Last year at this time I was gearing up for a gold medal and setting my future, you know?”

“I do know. But things changed.”

“They did, and I ended up here in the bosom of some good friends and in the valley where I first learned to ski and started my world-champion path. I thought this was the place to press the reset button, but it didn’t work out that way. I couldn’t handle the slopes... I mean, not even the kiddie ones at first. Even now they still scare me.”

She tried to stop talking, but the words were just flowing out of her as though they wouldn’t be stopped. She’d needed to share this with someone, and Carter, as unlikely as it seemed, was the one person she was finally able to do it with.

“So the reset didn’t work,” he said, tracing the rim of his mug with his finger.

An image of him doing that exact same thing to her nipple popped into her head and made her squirm in her chair. Dammit. She never thought of sex this way. But Carter had changed her.

“No, it didn’t. I have seen a therapist and he suggested it was because reset means I can go back to where I was and that maybe somewhere in my brain is the thought that I don’t want to go back there.”

He nodded. “My therapist has often said that, for me, I have to keep moving forward. Once I master a skill, I need to find a new one.”

“That’s interesting... Does he have a theory why?” Maybe there was a clue in Carter’s problems that could lead her to a solution of her own.

“He does, but it’s very personal.” There was a glimpse of the real man. The one he kept hidden behind a curtain of sexy charm and outrageous dares.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “Didn’t mean to pry.”

“I brought it up. Just throwing it out as an option.” Resting an elbow on the table, he turned to face her. “I want to help you get back on the slopes. It will be a way for me to make up for any part of your crash.”

“I told you that wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but I need to do this. Plus, and if you repeat this to anyone I’ll deny it, but when you ski it’s like magic. I love watching you on the slopes, and I’d hate to never see you ski again.”

“Why would you deny that?” she asked, touched more than she wanted to be.

“Because I’m a bad-boy snowboarder and I’ve got a reputation to preserve,” he said with a wink.

“Well, far be it from me to ruin that for you,” she quipped. But deep down inside the freedom she’d felt last night was starting to fade. It made her wistful and wonder how she was going to achieve what had seemed so possible last night. How could she change her life?

“You won’t,” he said slyly. “So let’s see... How’s the knee? Have you taken any runs?”

Lindsey shook her head. She thought of how she sometimes brought her skis here and sat as though she’d just taken a run, even though she clearly hadn’t.

Who the heck was she trying to fool?

“My knee is fine. No runs. I mean, I’m teaching the classes, so I am on the bunny slopes with my kids, but that’s not really skiing.”

“Not for you,” he said.

“No, not for me. But why do you care? I mean, really. Not that BS about feeling guilty about my crash—the real story.”

He leaned in close and shrugged. “Maybe I sense that’s the only way you’ll let me see you again.”

He was right, but she wasn’t about to admit it to him. “We’re on a committee together, Carter. We will have to see each other again.”

He took a sip of his hot chocolate. “I expected better—more from you than this.”

She held the same high expectation for herself. “I’m sorry. I think the combo of too much to drink, a very sexy encounter and confusion left over from last night are making this morning difficult.”

“You think too much,” he said softly. “I’ve had more mornings-after than you. Take it from me, you have to just shake it off.”

She didn’t want to shake it off. A part of her wanted to be the woman she’d been last night. That bold, self-assured, confident woman she’d been with Carter, the woman who’d believed in herself. Surely that hadn’t just been the champagne talking. The seeds of that woman had to be inside her.

She just had to figure out how to sow them.

Carter was offering her something by saying he wanted to see her ski again. He’d always been that devilish rogue who could needle her into doing things she’d otherwise pass on.

“Were you serious about helping me ski again?”

“Yes. Thinking of taking me up on it?” he asked, leaning back and giving her a cocky smile. “I knew you would. Women can’t resist me.”

That was part of her problem. She didn’t want to be one of the masses that had been in Carter’s life. She wanted to be important and special. And she couldn’t. Not right now, because she hardly knew herself anymore.

* * *

CARTER REALIZED THAT Lindsey saw him as a bit of fun. And after all the women he’d played around with over the years, a part of him got that it was payback. But another part, the bit where he’d actually thought she was different than all the lovers he’d been with before, bristled. She was looking at him as if he were a stranger. The kind of man that she didn’t know or trust.

“What do you say, gorgeous? Want to give it a shot?”

“I do. I’m just not sure that I should be committing to doing anything more with you because you’re a bad influence.”

He looked at her, amused despite himself by her adorably earnest expression. “How do you figure?”

“Kissing dares. Sex twice in one night... Skiing again.”

He noted that she’d started with the light stuff and ended with what was really worrying her. “I’m not going to push you down the slope, Linds. I just want a chance to help you remember what you loved so much about the sport.”

She cocked her head to one side, her blond ponytail swinging behind her head, and he remembered the feel of her silky-smooth hair against his body. His blood heated, and he realized that he was working so hard to find a reason to stay in her good graces because he wanted her back in his bed.

He hadn’t been finished with her when she’d walked away, and now he had to do whatever was necessary to get her back.

“What do you know about my love of the sport?”

“Only that if I fell and couldn’t snowboard for six months, I’d be devastated. And though I’m retiring from amateur competition, I know I still want to be on the board. I can’t define myself without it.”

She gave him a hard stare. “I hate that you actually get me.”

He laughed, but inside a part of him was hurt by that. “Why?”

“You’re not a serious person. You think dares and games are the way to get what you want—”

“It’s worked for me in the past, hasn’t it?”

“You have a point.” She sighed. “Maybe this is what I need. So what do you recommend?”

“You have to get to the root of your fear.”

“How do you know that?” she asked. “Do you have something you’re afraid of?”

Of course he did, he thought. But he liked the fact that she saw only the confidence he’d worked so hard at projecting. If she saw him as the man he wanted to be, he was good with that. He wasn’t about to start confessing to things that he couldn’t do and the secrets he protected.

“Just being walked out on by women like you, gorgeous,” he said smoothly.

She nibbled on her lower lip, and he remembered how her mouth had felt under his the night before. He had thought he’d had enough time to exorcise the lust demons that had been plaguing him for years, but realized now he hadn’t come close.

Would he ever be able to sate his thirst for Lindsey?

He’d sort of believed that her elusiveness was all that kept him still wanting her. It had been a while, and each time they were apart he’d try to forget her. Those big brown eyes and the pretty blond hair.

The media had dubbed her the Ice Queen for her cool persona before each of her runs. Other skiers smiled and joked, but Lindsey had held herself aloof and had come down the mountain as though she owned it. Now he realized that he had wanted to be the man to melt that icy exterior.

He’d done it once, but that wasn’t enough.

Why wasn’t it enough?

It seemed to him that having waited so long to claim her in his bed, he should be happy, or at least content. But he wasn’t.

He wanted something more.

But as was par for him, he had no way to define it and could only say that it involved Lindsey.

“I am sorry again for leaving so abruptly,” she said softly. “I wanted to see if I could take a run this morning... Well, that’s not entirely true.” She fixed her gaze squarely on his. “You scared me, Carter. I’ve never been the way I was with you last night. I’m not sure I recognize that part of myself.”

“Good,” he said. “The old you has been hiding. Frozen in some sort of limbo. I’m glad you don’t recognize yourself, because that means you are finally thawing.”

“Thawing? Wow, I thought I’d proved last night that there is nothing icy about me,” she said in a slightly breathless voice.

“You did, but then you retreated behind your wall of ice,” he said.

“Fair enough.”

“Let’s go,” he said, standing and holding out his hand to her.

“Where?”

“Trust me?”

She reached for his hand and gave him a forced smile. “No. But I’ll follow you anyway.”

He’d take what he could get with her. She stood and he led the way to the parking lot and his SUV.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He smiled mysteriously. “I have an idea.”

She got into the vehicle without another word, and he drove them away from the lodge to a path he’d found about a week ago when he’d needed to get away from everyone and everything. He parked the SUV on the side of the road and came around to Lindsey’s side of the SUV. She had her door open and had hopped out before he got there.

“This is your big idea?”

“Stop with the doubt and follow me.”

He led the way to the tree line over the snow-covered ground, and she followed him. Her boots were good and sturdy, as were his, and he kept walking until he found what he was looking for: a small clearing in the copse of trees. Icicles hung from the branches, and in the center was a mound of snow that he suspected some local kids had built.

“This is it?”

“Yup,” he said.

“How’d you find it?” she asked, looking at the steep snow mound, which was large enough to slide down. In the middle was a trench big enough for a sled.

“I don’t know, but I think it will work perfectly for us.”

She walked over to it and then looked back at him. “Thank you.”

Seeing her quiet, contemplative expression as she continued to look at the snow mound made it easy for him to believe that he’d done the right thing. But deep inside he knew that helping her ski wasn’t what he really wanted.

6

THE STEEP MOUND of snow might look like a bit of fun to anyone else, but to Lindsey it looked huge. As she stood at the base of it, she realized that Carter had found her the ideal place to test her own limits.

“I have a sled in the SUV,” he said. “Let me go and get it.”

She nodded.

Words were inadequate while fear was tightening her throat, but really her fear had to do with the public way she’d fallen. She knew everyone had seen it, and now when she put on her skis she was always aware of people watching her. In truth, they might not be, but her fear was that they were.

She noticed some foot holes had been dug in the snow and put her boots in, slowly climbing to the top of the mound. When she got to the top, she simply stood there. Her pulse was racing, and she was sweating inside her snow wear even though it was freezing.

She licked her dry lips and tipped her head back to look up at the sky. This height was so small compared to the mountains she’d skied in her career, yet it felt bigger. Felt scarier somehow, and she knew she didn’t want Carter to see her this way.

It was one thing to admit she was afraid to ski but something else entirely to actually let him see a glimpse of what that fear looked like. She turned to climb down and saw him standing there, the trees behind him, their limbs heavy with snow. The small sled in one hand and the most serious look she’d ever seen in Carter Shaw’s blue-gray eyes.

He knew.

She hated that he was witnessing this moment of horrible weakness.

He didn’t say anything, just continued to watch her. Inside her fear a small bubble of rebellion formed. Carter was the last person on earth she wanted to witness this meltdown.

“Great...I’m glad you have that sled. I was going to give it a try without one but thought I’d wait for you.”

“You don’t have to do this,” he told her. “Baby steps are the way forward.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about. This little mound is nothing,” she said airily. God, please let me get off this damned mound, and quickly.

“Okay.” He pointed into the distance. “See that drift over there?”

She glanced all the way across the clearing to the large drift that had been reinforced probably by the same people who’d built this mound. That had to be where the sled would stop. It seemed huge. Farther than anything she’d gone down before.

But she knew that was fear talking.

“Great.”

“Great?” he repeated. “I know it’s not great, gorgeous.”

She knew it, too. But she wasn’t about to let him once again see her weak and vulnerable. Man, was that what this was all about? Was that why she couldn’t ski? Vulnerability?

Whatever it was, she was going to have to sled down this mound to prove a point to herself—and to Carter. She’d expected him to hand her the sled, but this was Carter, so instead he climbed up next to her.

“Not so bad from up here,” he said. “Reminds me of the first time I stood at the mouth of the half-pipe.”

“Is this really how high it is?”

“Nah, it’s a bit higher, but I was strung out on nerves waiting to take my first run. Excited, scared and so full of ideas of how I wanted it to go I couldn’t stand it.”

Her hands were shaking, and she wove them together to keep Carter from seeing, but he put one of his big hands over hers. Held them for a minute, and she looked up to see his face close to hers. So close she could see the flecks of silver in his blue-gray eyes and notice how thick his eyelashes were.

He had incredible eyes.

She wanted to do something crazy, like kiss him. If she kissed him, then passion could sweep them away and she wouldn’t have to go down the mound. Hell, she’d strip down naked in the cold with the wind blowing the snow from the tree branches if it meant she didn’t have to go down this small mound of snow.

Realizing that made tears burn at the back of her eyes. Dammit. If she couldn’t sled down this freakin’ mound, how was she ever going to ski again?

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“I know,” he whispered back. He lifted his free hand and cupped the side of her face. “But you are the bravest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Liar.”

“I wish. I know that no matter what, you will conquer this mound and then get back on the expert slope. I believe that with every fiber of my being.”

His eyes burned into hers, and she could feel the sheer force of his will radiate through her.

But how could he have such unwavering faith in her when she was riddled with so many doubts and fears? She appreciated what he was trying to do here, but a part of her—a huge part—wasn’t sure it could really come true.

“I—”

“No, don’t say anything else. Just sit your sweet ass on this sled and take the run you’ve been thinking about.”

The run she’d been thinking about was down the Wasatch Back Range, but she had to do this to get there. His strength was there all around her. His breath was warm against her cheek. His hands, which held her so solidly, reminded her that he was virile and strong.

She leaned up and pressed her mouth to his. Angled her lips over his and thrust her tongue into his mouth. Surprised, he opened his mouth, and in her mind she pretended she could borrow his courage just by kissing him. She pulled her head back, took the sled from him and sat before she could think anymore about where she was and what she was about to do.

She put her hands in the snow and shoved with all her might. She wanted to close her eyes as she flew down the mound, but kept them open. Wind whipped past her cheeks as she skidded across the flat snow-packed ground into the drift, and she started laughing.