Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“An entrepreneur.”
“Indeed.”
“Are you originally from here?” he asks, and he seems genuinely interested. I’m enjoying the company, so I fill him in on my roots here in Montana.
“Yes, and I have two brothers. Max was the guy you heard on the phone. He’s always in and out of here on business. And my other brother, Brad, is the police chief in town.
“We are fourth-generation locals.”
“Wow,” Christian replies. “That’s cool.”
“I think so, too. Are you from L.A.?”
A change happens now. A subtle shift. His body tenses, but he doesn’t miss a beat in his answer.
“No, my family is from Tennessee, but we moved to L.A. when I was young.”
It sounds like a recording. Like this is the answer he’s been trained to give, over and over again.
“Do you ever go back to Tennessee?”
“Not often.” He shakes his head.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He blinks rapidly and seems to steel himself for the onslaught of questions that I’m sure he gets every day.
“Okay.”
“Do you want dessert? I made huckleberry turnovers with some leftover berries that I had in the freezer.”
He blinks again. “That’s the question?”
“Yeah. It’s an important question, Christian. I don’t want to eat it by myself.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had huckleberries before.”
“You’re in for a treat,” I promise him as I stand and take his empty plate and walk into the kitchen. “They’re a local berry. I think they mostly only grow in the Pacific Northwest area. Their growing season is short, so we pick all we can in the summer and freeze them.”
“I’d love to try them.”
I turn to find him standing at the island, smiling at me.
“Do you want ice cream with it?”
“Of course.”
“You’re my kind of people,” I say and take the turnovers out of the warming drawer of the oven, scoop out the ice cream, and we settle in our spots in the living room again. “So, why a whole month here? Are you running from the FBI? The CIA? The IRS?”
“No,” he says, laughing. “I’m going to learn how to ski for a movie role.”
“That’s cool, but you’re athletic. I’m not going to lie, Christian, I’ve seen some of your movies. I’d guess that you could learn to ski in a week.”
“I need to look like I was born on the slopes. Like it’s second nature to me.”
“Makes sense.” I lick my spoon and nod. “So, you’ll be spending a lot of time on skis.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Do you have an instructor lined up? I know the owner of the resort if not, and he could set you up with someone excellent.”
“Nina already arranged it.”
“Who’s Nina?”
His lips twitch. “My manager. And my sister.”
“Ah, yes, I remember her name from her email.” I set my empty plate aside and lean back, my belly blissfully full. “Good God, stick a fork in me.”
“You fed us a lot of carbs.”
“Comfort food.” I shrug. “I didn’t know what to expect with you.”
“Same here.” He stands, sets our plates in the sink and stuffs his hands back into his pockets. “I should go. I’m meeting the instructor at six.”
“In the a.m.?”
“That’s the one.”
“Yikes.” I stand and walk him to the door. “Well, good luck tomorrow.”
“Thanks for dinner.” He stops in front of me and is so close I could lean in and kiss his chest. I can feel the heat coming off of him, and the thought of walking right into his arms and feeling him wrap around me sounds like absolute heaven.
But he’s a stranger. He’s famous. He’s only here for four weeks.
And he has a girlfriend.
I clearly need to date more.
“Jenna?”
“Yeah?”
He laughs. “I said thanks for dinner.”
“Oh, you’re welcome.” I wave him off and tuck my hair behind my ear. “See you later.”
“Later.” He winks and hurries away, and I’m left a quivering, lust-filled mess.
It’s going to be a long month.
Chapter Two
~CHRISTIAN~
“ARE YOU TRYING TO kill me?” I join my instructor, Chad, at the bottom of the run and shove my goggles up onto my helmet, catching my breath. “This is the first day.”
“You’re a natural,” he says and pats my shoulder. “You’re way past the bunny hill, dude.”
“I think that one was a black diamond,” I reply and watch a couple of girls walk by, giving me the side-eye.
Yeah, it’s me.
“And you handled it like a champ,” he says. “We’ll do one of those at the end of each day, and they get harder.”
“Awesome.”
Actually, it is awesome. The quiet, the cold, the snow. I’ve quickly discovered why skiing is so popular.
I’ve fallen in love with it in less than six hours.
“Let’s go into the lodge before you leave,” Chad suggests and pushes off on his skis, leading me to a huge building in the heart of the small village. “I want to introduce you to Bax. He owns the place.”
Jenna mentioned him last night. I follow Chad, stepping out of my skis and swinging them up onto my shoulder to walk with him.