day with Julie. He couldn’t resist, despite her history of raising his hopes, then crushing them. It’d taken him years to forget her...if he ever had. He watched her disappear into an elevator and nodded to himself. He wanted this time with her, no matter how much he risked by letting her get close again.
* * *
“YOU CAN OPEN your eyes. I won’t let you fall.”
“Have you seen how far up we are?” Julie squeezed her lids tighter and held still as the ski lift continued its jarring ascent up Whiteface Mountain. Why had she followed through on this idiotic notion?
Austin’s arm tightened around her waist.
Right. This was why. She snuggled closer to his side and rested her head on his broad shoulders. She wanted a second chance for them. And she wanted to convince him that she’d changed. Proof? She’d canceled her wedding and she and Mason had given it to another couple. Both decisions she would have agonized over before. She nibbled on her lower lip. Well, it was a start anyway.
And how gracious of Mason... Her heart clenched as she pictured the way his expression had lightened when she’d mentioned Noelle and Ted. Instead of reacting angrily, a justifiable response given what she’d done, he’d supported her when she called to explain the change in plans to Grace. He was a great guy and some woman would be lucky to have him. Just not her...
When something brushed the bottom of Julie’s feet, she squealed and her eyes flew open.
“What was that?”
“A tree that needs to be cut.”
She looked out at the vista stretching in every direction and gulped. No. She would not look down. But the snowcapped mountains resembled a postcard from the Alps. Pretty. The sun made the air feel bright and warm, despite the freezing temperatures. And the sky. Blue, a blue like she’d never seen before.
All was calm. The brightly clad skiers in the swaying lifts ahead didn’t appear concerned that only a thin metal rail kept them from plunging to their deaths... She snatched at the anxious thought and stuffed it away.
Julie had much nicer things to focus on. Shivers of awareness ran through her as she sat beside Austin, nodding without listening as he rattled on about balance, ski tips and stuff she surely didn’t need since she’d probably spend most of the time on her butt, not her skis.
“Wait. How do I get off this thing?” Panic snaked through her as passengers from a car ahead of them glided off the plastic seat.
“You ski off.” A crossbeam of sun lightened Austin’s eyes to amber, like a wolf’s. The thread of Canadian-goose calls strung high across the cloudless sky. He turned, head tilted back, to watch the birds wheeling in the circle of blue, in and out of their V.
Julie finger-shot herself in the head. “Of course. No problem. Except I don’t know how to ski.”
“After I lift the bar, slide forward to the edge of the seat and point your ski tips up. Once they touch the ground, stand up and the lift will give you a little push.”
“As in knock me over? How many times did I fall before I got on this thing?”
“I stopped counting after seven. The operator said it was a record.” Austin’s pirate’s smile set off a breathtaking tingling surge inside her.
“Are you mocking me?” she asked, but she couldn’t stop herself from grinning.
He spread his broad hands. Innocent. “What do you think?”
The couple ahead of them glided off their seat.
“Austin! We’re next.”
He squeezed her hand. “Don’t panic. Or dawdle. As soon as you’re off the seat, move away fast. Got it?”
“Do I have a choice? Ahhhhhh!”
Julie spit out a mouthful of flakes and struggled to her knees. The ski lift looped behind her. At least she’d cleared it. That had to count for something...
“Nice face-plant,” drawled Austin. He loomed tall, looking athletic and incredibly gorgeous in fitted black ski pants and a matching jacket with a lime-green stripe. “Want some help?”
“This skiing sure is fun.”
“You wanted to come.” He pulled off his goggles and squinted down at her, his smile headlong, anarchic and utterly irresistible.
“I might have to plead insanity on that.”
He beckoned her, his angular cheeks a stung-red color. “Come on, Julie. There’s only one way down.”
“A stretcher?”
He chuckled and pulled her to her feet where she wobbled, skis sliding. “Bend your knees and don’t lean so far forward.”
“Just don’t let go.”
He gripped her hands, the steady pressure reassuring. “This isn’t exactly a team sport.”
“If it was, I’d give you a zero.”
“Good thing we’re not competing.” He drew her slowly toward him, looking into her eyes, and heat burst in her belly. Caught in the quickening of his breath, in his darkened eyes, she leaned forward. For a heart-stopping moment he traced her face.
Then he gave himself a shake and slid on his goggles. “Ready?” he asked. Brusque.
“So how do I stop again?”
Austin expertly scooted backward and angled the front of his tips inward. “Just think pizza slice.”
“Now I’m hungry.”
“There’s a news flash. We’ll grab some when we get down to the lodge.”
“You forget I’ll be eating Jell-O in a hospital bed.”
“So says the risk taker,” Austin chided, but there was the corner of a grin there, too, bitten back.
Julie let out a long breath. Right. Time to get over herself. What was the worst that could happen on a slope named after a fluffy rodent? She planted her poles in the snow and pushed.
In a flash, she flew down the slope, sure she should have picked the more difficult run, after all, until one ski tangled with the other. She vaulted over them both and into some scrub brush.
Nice.
Austin jetted to her, stopping with a blinding spray of snow. He sank to his knees, his hands running over her legs and arms. “Are you hurt?”
“I meant to do that,” she said when her lungs started working again. “And no. Nothing injured. I don’t think.”
“Believe me, you’d know. Though your back or neck will probably ache in the morning.” He’d pushed his goggles up over his hat again and his eyes searched hers.
“Will you adjust it for me?” Austin had earned his degree in sports chiropractic while she finished her BA. He’d earned a degree in exercise science as an undergrad and he was licensed as a strength-and-training coach as well as a performance-enhancement specialist. If she’d trust anyone with her neck, it’d be Austin.
One side of his mouth jacked up. “You know where I live.”
Julie clutched a branch of a miniature Christmas tree to stop herself from slipping and stood. When her skis slid, Austin grabbed her and it seemed as if a sheet of foggy glass fell away in front of them: every color leaping, every birdcall separate and vivid.
“Ready to try again?” he asked into her ear, sending her nerve endings into overdrive.
“You promised me pizza at the end of this, right?”
He stepped back and put a hand over his heart, light skidding across his handsome face. “Pepperoni and meatballs.”
Her mouth watered, imagining her favorite,