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“Football, basketball… baseball.”
“Did you play sports in college?”
“I did.”
“When did you stop playing to be a writer?”
“When I realized you can’t play forever.”
She grimaced. “True. You have to pay bills.”
He laughed, a big laugh that was another deep rumble, and then his head dropped and his mouth covered hers.
The kiss was light and yet electric. She felt every little bit of her come to life.
He deepened the kiss, her lips parting beneath the pressure of his, and her head spun.
This kiss made her yearn for happiness and magic. If only happy-ever-afters really did come true. Because at thirty she was beginning to be afraid, wracked with doubt that the happy-ever-after would happen for her.
And just like that, reality returned.
She remembered who she was and where she was and this beautiful, magical kiss was a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling back. “As much as I want to kiss you, I shouldn’t. My life is a mess and this isn’t going to help.”
“No, I’m sorry.” He took a step back, putting space between them.
“It’s the timing,” she said. “If the timing was different, or we lived closer, maybe it’d make more sense.” She swallowed hard, feeling completely ridiculous because she’d wanted his kiss, and the kiss had been incredible. “I hope this doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends. I could use you as a friend—”
“I already told you, we’re on the same team. You’re stuck with me.”
She struggled to smile. “Good.”
“And I am sorry about the kiss. I totally misread the situation. I’m embarrassed—”
“Don’t be. I wanted you to kiss me.” Her lips twisted, her expression glum. “The problem was, you kiss really good. Far too good.”
For a moment there was just silence, and for the first time since they met, it wasn’t an easy, comfortable silence, and it crossed Charity’s mind that it was already changing between them.
All it had taken was a kiss.
She shouldn’t have wanted his kiss. She shouldn’t have savored his attention. She’d come to Little Teton to escape the fire, not throw herself headfirst into the frying pan.
“It would be great to stay in touch. That way if I’m ever in Seattle, we could have dinner, or if you’re ever this way again, we could meet for a drink or coffee.”
“That would be great,” he said. “Where do you live?”
“Montana. A little town outside Bozeman.”
He gave her an odd look. “What’s the name of your travel agency?”
“Marietta Travel.”
“You’re from Marietta?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
His expression was almost incredulous. “I have.”
Chapter Three
Had he heard of Marietta? Of course he had. It was his hometown.
Back in his room, Quinn stretched out on his bed, aware that everything had just become more complicated. If Tricia looked him up, she’d discover there was no Douglas Quincy, at least no sportswriter in greater Seattle named Douglas Quincy.
Quinn didn’t like deceiving people, much less people from his hometown. Marietta had been good to him, and people had rallied around his family after the tragedy on the Douglas ranch. He had nothing but respect and appreciation for Marietta, so the last thing he wanted to do was deceive someone who knew the real him.
Thinking of Marietta, and his years at Marietta High School, Quinn remembered a Colton Thorpe. Quinn had played sports with Colton, a kid who had equal parts talent and anger. The anger had won out, and Colton gave up organized sports to get into trouble.
Quinn didn’t know what had become of Colton, but he couldn’t help thinking that Tricia might be related to him. A sister, or a cousin, possibly? Either way, he needed to explain things, and come clean with her about who he was, and why he was there in Wyoming, because he wouldn’t be writing about the ski town.
He liked Little Teton a great deal, and spending the past five days with Tricia had made it even more special. Tricia was an amazing woman.
Was he disappointed she wanted to keep things platonic? Absolutely. He liked her, a lot, and all he wanted was to get closer to her, not keep his distance. He couldn’t remember when he was this attracted to anyone. He wasn’t even sure he’d felt this chemistry with Alice.
He left bed early the next morning and went to her room, wanting to catch her before she left. But she didn’t answer the door and when he checked with the front desk, they said she’d already gone, leaving just after dawn.
Disappointment swept through him, and he kicked himself for not going to her room last night. Why had he waited?
Marianne, the travel agent from California, approached Quinn to say goodbye. “You look so lonely,” she teased him. “Where did your cute little girlfriend go?”
“Home,” he answered.
And then it struck him. Home. Tricia had gone home, to Marietta. Which meant, he knew just where to find her.
*
Charity couldn’t have asked for more perfect conditions to drive home. The Teton Pass was clear, the wind was calm, and the rising sun made the dramatic mountain peaks glitter. Snow dusted the huge conifers making her think of white frosting. There was no ice on the road either. Her car handled the climb and descent beautifully.
She was lucky, she told herself as the miles accumulated. She was lucky to have such ideal weather for driving home. Lucky to have had a break from work. Lucky to have missed the Marietta Stroll where Greg was escorting his new girlfriend about.
And lucky to have met Douglas.
Her pulse jumped just thinking of him. Douglas Quincy had been absolutely lovely in every way. Meeting him at Little Teton had been rather like a perfect holiday romance, without the romance ending. But that was okay. She appreciated the story elements. Handsome stranger, playful a
ctivities, wonderful chemistry, and then the quick, bittersweet goodbye because they were off in different directions.
Maybe one day they’d see each other again. Maybe one day the timing would be better.
Or, maybe more realistically, this would just end up being a very sweet, special memory for her to cherish.
Charity adjusted her sun visor, blocking out the bright morning glare, and used her car’s Bluetooth to call her sister, not sure if Amanda would be at work yet, but Amanda answered her cell phone.
“Where are you?” Amanda asked.
“Back in Montana, still driving, a couple hours away,” Charity answered.
“How was the ski resort?”
“Really good. Super cute little place. I’m glad I went. I’ve lots of notes for Tricia.”
“You sound happy.”
“I had fun.”
“Tricia said everybody would probably be on the older side.”
“Lots of older people, but there was a hot guy. We hung out together.”
“And he’s a travel agent?”
“No, he’s a sportswriter, but he was there to get the resort some coverage.”
“And he was good-looking?”
“Gorgeous. Tall, built, handsome as heck.”
“Where does he live?”
“Seattle.”
“But I’m sure he travels.”
“I don’t, though.”
“Then why are you so happy?” Amanda asked.
“He was just… lovely.”
“He was chivalrous, too. He opened doors and held my chair and helped me with my coat. He even tied my scarf once and it was just sweet because he looks so manly. Like big, rugged muscles everywhere, and then he was such a gentleman.”
“You’re smitten.”
“I’m just grateful I met him because I realize that no one has treated me so well since Joe and I broke up, and that was an important epiphany. Next time I date someone, I want to be treated well. I want more of a man, not less.”
“That’s exactly right. You deserve more, not less.”
“I realized something else,” she added. “I’m letting fear hold me back. I’m afraid I’m not good enough so I’ve stopped making clothes for anyone but you. I’ve stopped designing altogether. I think that’s a mistake.”
