definitely add Cadie’s main source of insanity to his excessively long list of accomplishments. Cadence’s, rather. For some reason, he always called her by her full name. Claimed to like it. And Lord, so did she. Her spine shivered every time the smoothly spoken syllables rolled off his tongue.
Argh! In a desperate attempt to derail her train of thought, she handed her sister the Allen key. “Here, you do the screws. I’ll hold the pieces together.”
Lauren peered at Cadie, suspicion written on her features. “I thought you didn’t want help.”
“Changed my mind.”
“Changed the subject, you mean.”
Cadie shrugged.
“Cadence Grigg.”
“Lauren Dawson,” she mimicked. “Hey, are you going to change your name when you get remarried?”
“Probably. And you did it again.”
“I asked you a question. Is that not allowed?”
“Not when you’re avoiding talking about something. You were the one who complained we needed to get back to acting more like friends. So why’d you get a look when I brought up Zach?”
Cadie sighed. “He’s just frustrating me. If I have to spend one more minute watching him compensate for his misaligned hips, I’m going to throw a medicine ball at his head.” She’d spent the last three months doing her best not to look at her husband’s best friend’s beautiful body as he rehabilitated his broken femur and arm with a colleague at her previous workplace, but she’d had enough.
“He did look out of whack.”
“He has this bee in his bonnet over finishing Sam’s film this fall. They’ve changed the focus from an extreme skiing feature to a documentary about the avalanche. The producer’s thrown in extra money to get Zach to the site where the slide occurred, given he missed the memorial trip in the spring, so he’s trying to speed things along. And he’s causing more problems than he’s fixing. I’ve been nagging him to let me help for months.”
Cadie held a crosspiece against the slanted top shelf, and Lauren started screwing a nut onto one of the bolts, a look of confusion on her face. “Zach would do anything for you, though.”
“Because of Sam, yeah.” Sure, she’d hit the six-month mark of parenthood and woken from her sleep-deprived haze to find Zach’s assets—especially his ass—irresistible. She’d slapped a “friends-only” label on the guy the minute she’d gotten together with Sam. But she was single now, and the edges on that label were peeling like the paint on her brother’s ancient truck. Thankfully, Zach hadn’t ever hinted at wanting to tear off the designation for good.
Lauren stilled her hand mid key-turn. “Just Sam?”
“Yes,” Cadie emphasized.
Lips pressed into a wholly unconvinced line, her sister went back to her task. “Well, no matter the reason, if you can make his therapy about doing you a favor, I bet he’d go for it.”
Interesting thought. And not a stretch, either. “It is partly about me. I want to pay him back for all he’s done for Ben and me since Sam died.” The guy had quit his job coaching the US Junior ski team to relocate to Sutter Creek when Cadie had moved home, for God’s sake. He’d gone to every one of her maternity appointments. Held her hand through most of the delivery and kept all her loose ends tied while she was struggling with a colicky infant. Every time Cadie had needed a hand, Zach had stuck his out to help, up until the point he’d broken his arm and leg during spring cleanup. The number of times he’d apologized for not being able to pitch in over the past few months...
Yeah. That was definitely why frustration ate at her every time she was around him.
It didn’t have anything to do with the way laughter made his eyes dance or how the bronze skin over his ripped muscles hadn’t forgotten he’d once been a competitive athlete. So the guy was nice to look at.
More than nice.
Downright mouthwatering.
But that was all objective. She couldn’t be interested in Sam’s best friend. Nor could she risk the bond Zach had with Ben over a momentary physical attraction.
“I doubt he’d agree that you owe him,” Lauren said. “The guy has survivor’s guilt written all over him.”
Letting go of the now secure shelf brace, she gnawed on one of her thumbnails. “I know. He insists he’s indebted to me.”
“Come at it from a professional angle, then. You need him for his reputation.”
“Huh. Hadn’t thought of that.” Nodding, she held a support rail for Lauren. “If Zach thinks I need to be his therapist to build credentials for the new clinic, he might play along.” Any publicity would be fantastic and with his gold-medal reputation—not to mention his overwhelming popularity as ski patrol director—he’d make the perfect poster boy for what her center could offer. Especially if she helped him heal faster using a combination of her PT and the other clinic services. And she could rest easier knowing she’d made a small dent in the pile of favors she needed to repay.
“How about I keep going on the rack and you go see if you can catch him before he leaves the gym?” Lauren offered.
Cadie scrunched her face—she really didn’t want her sister doing work for her, especially not when Lauren had her own office to set up ahead of her official switch from doctor at the local clinic to health consultant at Evolve. But the thought of Zach spending one more minute overdoing it and causing himself further injury chafed. “You go worry about your stuff. I’ll talk to Zach and then come back and finish before I need to get Ben.”
Lauren shook her head but she spread her palms in surrender and stood. “I’m not trying to take over, Cadie.”
“I know. But I’ve been working on this for a year and you’ve stepped in at the last minute.”
“You said you were okay—”
“I am.” Cadie rose and put a hand on her sister’s arm. “I’m pumped to get to work with you and glad you’ve found something that makes you happy. But I want to be able to put my stamp on things.”
A puzzled look crossed her sister’s face. “But given this is an AlpinePeaks project, we’re all involved in it.”
Yeah, they were, and their father and brother were, too. Technically more than Cadie, because she’d liquidated a good chunk of her shares in their family’s company to support Sam’s dream of becoming a world-renowned, extreme-ski film star. Had he known that attempting to achieve that fame would mean dying, would he have insisted on pursuing it so hard?
A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed it. Best not to answer that question. “I know you’re just trying to help, Laur. But let me take the lead. Please.”
A minute later she was heading through the atrium, passing the glassed entrances of the spa and the hallway to where various energy-healing practices would take place. She hung a left past a ceiling-to-floor waterfall and entered the fitness facility. Her footsteps were the only sound in the large space—odd to have a gym without some sort of loud music. Had Zach already left?
But a quick scan revealed him sprawled on one of the exercise mats across the room, chest rising and falling rapidly. His two-day stubble failed to hide the stark defeat marking the line of his jaw. Concern shot through her. Taking stock of potential physical reasons for his unrest, she skirted around exercise equipment as she headed in his direction. Sweat dripped from his forehead into the chestnut-brown hair at his temples. A stability ball and a set of small hand weights lay within arm’s reach. His crutches leaned against the pristine mirror. He’d lost some muscle mass since his accident. But not so much that he didn’t have women virtually lining up outside the door to his apartment, offering to take care of him.
As