“Why not?”
“It makes them uncomfortable.”
“Does it make you uncomfortable?” She turns to me.
“No,” I answer with a stifled laugh. “I think it makes him more uncomfortable than me,” I tease.
His cheeks flush pink just like hers did a minute ago. God, why is it so damn attractive that he blushes when he’s embarrassed? Is it just him? I mean, I’d have to be blind to not notice how hot he is. Tall, athletic, and a good dad? I’m surprised he’s single. I wonder where Izzy’s mom is in all of this.
That train of thought is too tricky to ride, so I focus on instructing them about getting off the chair lift. Both of them are naturals on skis and have no issues, not even a single wobble. I wonder how many sessions they have booked with me because they might not need any more after today.
I’m inexplicably saddened by that. It’s not out of the ordinary for me to get attached to people I take on guided backpacking tours in the summer, but that’s because you spend every single waking moment with them out in the most beautiful parts of the country. That type of experience bonds you. Spending several hours teaching someone to ski is different and much less personal.
It has to be a combination of Izzy being so damn cute and him being such a good dad. He’s also kind and not a dick when I give him directions, something that happens more often with grown men. The midwest nice comes out in him for sure. That’s probably it. A lot of people I work with here at Holly Ridge are rich monsters with no manners. He’s anything but, even though I know he must have a good deal of money from being a professional athlete.
The lesson goes so smoothly that at the end I find myself telling them I have full confidence that they don’t need another lesson. Drew’s eyes follow me as I kneel down to help Izzy out of her bindings. Part of me balks at the thought of not getting to work with them again, especially when Izzy throws her arms around my neck and squeezes.
“I think I need one more lesson at least,” she says, her little arms staying locked around my neck.
I stand, thinking she’ll let go of my neck, but her arms tighten and she wraps around me like a baby monkey. My gaze locks with Drew’s, and I notice a flash of sadness in his sky blue eyes. He blinks, and it’s gone.
“Come on, Bug. I’m sure Willa has things to do.”
“Can we go get hot chocolate from Aiden?”
He chuckles. “I’m sure he’ll hook us up with some.” His attention moves from Izzy to me. “My friend is the chef at Seasons. He’s spoiled her with their cinnamon spiced hot chocolate.”
“It’s good stuff.” I run my fingers along one of Izzy’s pigtails, twirling it into a spiral ringlet. “I’ll definitely see you out on the slopes this winter. Maybe I’ll even have Maya with me sometime.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky swear.” I hold out my pinky for hers.
“Pinky swear it.” She wraps hers around mine and shakes.
I watch as they walk off toward the restaurant. Most of the time my nomadic lifestyle fits my needs perfectly. But every once in a while I’ll wonder what it would be like to have a partner or the type of the stability that comes with having a family. Clearing the melancholy from my mind, I tell myself I’m just ovulating or something. I love my solitude entirely too much to consider having any type of family at this point in my life.
CHAPTER 3
DREW
Izzy hasn’t stopped askingabout seeing Willa again. I worry sometimes about how attached she gets to women who pop in and out of her life. My mom suggested looking into therapy for her, just as a way to stay on top of the grief she might be holding without knowing how to express herself to me. I’ll have to ask Ben if he knows of anyone in Holly Ridge who works with young kids.
We walk out into the public parking lot, and Izzy releases a loud squeal. Before I realize what’s happening, she’s taking off running down the line of cars without me. Panic seizes my chest as I follow, terrified of her getting hit or falling on ice and splitting her head open. A thousand awful scenarios playing out as I catch up to her.
It only takes one look to realize why she was so excited. Willa is standing in front of a white conversion van with its hood open. Her palms are braced on the edge while she examines theengine. A black labrador sits beside her, tail wagging against the pavement while it watches Izzy approach.
Willa looks up and smiles at Izzy, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hey, you.”
“Isabel,” I say sternly. “You know better than to run through a parking lot like that.”
“Sorry, Daddy.” She looks at her shoes.
“Just don’t do it again.”
“Okay.” Her gaze moves back to Willa. “Can I pet your dog?”
“Yes, you may. Good job asking permission first.”
