jackets and pom-pom hats.
“Sometimes too much,” she thought she heard him mumble as he skied a few feet down before turning. Breath lifted Austin’s chest, as if he was bracing himself for something. “Up and at ʼem, Julie.”
“Who’s Adam?”
His mouth tipped upward at their old joke and she grinned back before pushing off again, slower this time.
“Curve side to side,” coached Austin. She swiveled her hips, leaning slightly into each shallow turn. The sun warmed her back through her jacket and a lightness stole through her.
This was fun.
Yes, there was a chance she’d fall again.
Yes, there was a chance she’d hit scrub brush.
And yes, there was a chance she really might end up on that stretcher. However, those possibilities should not—would not—ruin this moment.
She felt free. Powerful. Moving through space like she was running—only faster. Laughter escaped her, cascading, bubbling over her tongue sweet and smooth.
When she hit a bump, she ended up sprawled in the snow again.
Graceful, she was not.
Other beginners edged by her as Austin expertly sped back, floating on the snow, by the look of it. The tink tink tink of a bird sounded somewhere close.
“Okay?”
She was already back on her feet and leaning on her poles when he reached her. “Definitely. This is incredible.” The air smelled so good she wanted to bite into it, feel the soft crunch between her teeth.
“I knew you’d like it if you gave it a chance.”
Their eyes locked and moments ticked by, until a kid barreled into Austin, sending them both sprawling.
Julie laughed as they scrambled upright. Nice to see Mr. Athlete could be a little ungainly once in a while.
“That’s two for me and one for you.” Julie bumped his shoulder with hers and propelled herself forward.
“You forgot your swan dive off the ski lift.” Austin slid a teasing look her way when she passed him.
Trees turned to a green blur as she skied, the early afternoon sun reflecting off her metal poles. “I’m actually trying to forget that one, thank you very much,” she called over her shoulder.
Austin reached her and tapped the side pocket she knew held his cell phone. “I’ll send you a picture if you like. Or you can grab it off my Facebook page.”
Julie gasped. “You are evil.”
“One of my best qualities.” He tossed her one of his devil-may-care grins, looking impossibly handsome.
A valve loosened inside of Julie, making her feel entirely different from the “think first, act never” girl she’d become again when she’d returned home from college. She sped up and whizzed by him, her muscles coordinating at last.
“I’ll be the judge of that. See you at the bottom, sucker.”
“Oh, it’s like that, then.” He easily caught up to her and swished from side to side. “What do I win if I get there first?” His lazy grin knocked the wind out of her.
“What do you want?”
He cocked his head and his eyes glinted before he faced forward again. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”
In a moment, he’d disappeared around a bend, the roof of the lodge closer than ever.
No doubt he’d win, but so would she. Whatever lurked around the next turn didn’t scare her anymore. She pushed harder, eager to find out what lay ahead.
Bring it on.
Today showed she could let go and face her fear of the unknown.
And that could include a future with Austin. She just had to make him believe it, too.
“SO, FORCING ME to do hard labor is your idea of a prize?”
“I won. My choice.” Austin scanned Julie’s beautiful, flushed face before looking back at the road. “Plus, there’s pizza in it for you.”
He grinned at her irritated harrumph as they drove through downtown Lake Placid. At a yellow light, he slowed his Jeep and idled in front of a white clapboard building with a white picket fence, black shutters and a wraparound porch. Only an oval sign that read Lake Placid Public Library—est. 1884 gave its true purpose away.
“When exactly is that pizza coming my way?” Julie clutched her stomach. She wore a fitted blue thermal shirt and white fleece vest that revealed enough of her curves to get his heart thumping. “I’ve been smelling it since we picked it up. How much farther to your new condo?”
“About a half mile out of town.” God, she smelled good. Still used the same coconut shampoo that made him want to bury his face in her thick hair and breathe it in.
Why had he impulsively asked her to help him unpack his kitchen? Her organizational skills had always impressed him, but that wasn’t the real reason. Not even close.
He wanted her in his first permanent home. To imagine, for a minute, what life together would have been like.
Danger prickled down his spine. Fantasies. When would he learn to avoid their burn?
The light clicked green and he pressed on the gas, his gaze skimming over the ski village’s quaint cobblestone sidewalks. Garland hung from street lamps tied with silver bows. An inviting Christmas shop blazed with twinkling lights, a red train passing by the window as it made its trek around the store. Salvation Army bells rang as holiday Muzak streamed through hidden speakers all along the thoroughfare. Tourists with loaded shopping bags thronged the streets.
For a moment, Austin wished he and Julie could be among them—just another couple window-shopping. But those were ghosts of Christmas past. Not present. And definitely not the future, no matter how much she’d impressed him on the slopes today.
He knew she wanted to overcome her indecision and hesitancy, but it was just a start. Besides, Austin couldn’t commit to Julie with the tour kicking off so soon. He still had too many doubts. It would take a lot to convince him that she wouldn’t retreat into her safe little world again and leave him alone, stumbling in the dark.
Julie’s proximity fired up his imagination. Her cascading laughter, snappy comebacks and quirky attitude reminded him of why he’d loved her...and why he needed to guard himself.
“A tree farm!” she squealed and pointed. “Let’s get one for your condo.”
He nodded and cranked the wheel, unable as ever to resist her enthusiasm. His tires churned up the white, snowy parking-lot entrance and the Jeep jerked to a stop beside a lighted sign that read Jingle Bell Tree Farm.
Julie swung herself out of the Jeep and threw her bag over her shoulder before he grabbed the keys from the ignition. She’d changed out of her snowsuit into a pair of stretch jeans that made her look slim and taller. Strands of hair slipped free of the braids pulled across each shoulder.
Her lashes fluttered against the setting sun as she stared at the smeared watercolor sky. She was built like a runner, lean limbs and long muscles. Chin always high, shoulders always back. No one had ever attracted him this way and she could break his heart into tiny pieces if he let her.
But he wouldn’t.
Not this time.
The evergreen-laced air curled beneath his nose as he joined Julie. Families and couples laughed and chattered around them, dragging trees to their cars, securing them with rope or bungee cords. A xylophone player accompanied a helium-voiced woman as she sang “Santa