Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
I couldn’t see much of her face between the scarf I’d wrapped around her neck, the hat, and the goggles she’d pulled up, but I wondered if she was glaring or blushing.
I chose to imagine her blushing.
“Now come on,” I said. “Let’s go surprise the Wellingtons and let them know we’re joining them today.”
The ski area sprawled across the mountainside like a white canvas slashed through with winding, grooved trails. From the parking lot, I could see at least a dozen runs cutting through the trees, ranging from gentle slopes to what looked like near-vertical drops. A massive lodge dominated the base area, its windows reflecting the morning sun.
"Here goes," Emma said, nodding toward where the Wellingtons were gathering near the ski rental building. Beyond them, I could see what looked like the most beginner-friendly slope. It wasn’t quite a bunny slope, but it was pretty close, and the hill looked like it was covered in more children than snow. Further up, more challenging runs rose toward the peaks, where skilled skiers carved graceful paths down the mountain.
Dick spotted us first. "Well, well! If it isn't the love birds!" He elbowed his father. "Look what James dragged in."
The three guys I'd noticed earlier turned as one, like a boyband hitting their cue. Up close, they were even more obviously related—same jaw, same perfect teeth, same air of casual wealth.
"Theo Wellington," the dark-haired one said, extending his hand to Emma. "These are my brothers, Alex and Noah. Didn't expect to see you on the slopes today."
"Oh, I ski all the time," Emma said with obviously fake confidence. I felt her tense beside me. "Back in... San Francisco."
Alex's eyebrows rose. "Really? Where's your usual spot?"
"You know..." Emma waved vaguely at the mountains. "Around. Show me snow, and I’ll be there."
"Perfect," Dick cut in. "Then you won't mind joining us on Thunder Ridge after you warm up. Best run on the mountain."
I glanced where he pointed—it was obviously a much more advanced trail that looked more like a cliff than a ski run. Emma's grip on my arm tightened.
"Can't wait," she said weakly.
The rental process was an education in Emma's growing panic. She kept whispering questions like "Why are there so many buckles?" and "Are these things supposed to be so tight?" while trying to maintain her facade of expertise.
"Just follow my lead," I murmured, helping her waddle toward the safest slope. The Wellingtons were already taking the chair lifts much higher up the mountain, content to warm up on more advanced runs.
"Okay," I said once we were alone at the top of the slope. Little kids were everywhere. Some were falling face first, waiting to be rescued by parents. Others screamed and slammed into each other. Overwhelmed instructors were everywhere shouting helpful cues that kids ignored as they zipped in every direction. "The most important thing to remember is how to slow down and stop. So you just—”
Emma shot forward with a shriek. For some reason, she kept pumping her ski poles, as if her panic response was to go faster.
What the hell kind of flawed instincts were those?
Her arms windmilled as she continued to pick uip speed. She weaved past kids, nearly blasting a few of them into orbit as her screams carried on the cold air.
I took off after her, catching up just as she lifted one leg, spun her arms, and somehow flipped forward to face-plant and slide several feet forward.
"You okay?" I asked, helping her up and brushing snow from her suit. My heart had nearly stopped watching her fall.
"I think I ate snow." She spat out some white powder. "Why do people do this for fun?"
"Because they usually listen to instructions first."
"I panicked!"
"I noticed." I tucked a loose strand of hair back under her hat. "Try again? I won't let you fall this time."
She looked up at me, cheeks pink from cold and exertion. "Promise?"
Something in her voice made my chest tight. "Promise."
For the next hour, I taught her the basics, keeping one hand on her waist as she got the feel of the slopes. The Wellingtons occasionally checked in before hopping on the ski lift for another run. The muscle brothers took turns checking on Emma specifically, and I was beginning to wonder if the assholes were trying to make passes at her.
Pretend or not, she was supposed to be my girlfriend, and I didn’t need their constant hovering. Even if the guys seemed okay, compared to the other Wellingtons, it didn’t mean I wouldn’t start throwing punches if they pushed it much further.
"You've got a fan club," I noted after Noah swung by to ask how her “warm up” was coming and to complement her form.
Emma noted the expression on my face and gave a taunting wiggle of her brows.
“Jealous?” she asked once Noah was gone.