By the time we’re forty minutes into the drive, we’re talking easier than we have in days, somehow about both things that don't matter and things that do.She tells me she used to sketch designs in the margins of her school notebooks when she got bored. I tell her Penelope has recently told me in confidence that she wants to learn how to roller-skate because she saw some kids at the park doing it when Carly took her a few days ago, and how much the idea of a set of wheels beneath my child's feet sets my teeth on edge. Carly tells me that she used to play soccer as a kid but hated every second of it, so much so that they made herthe goalie since she refused to run around after the ball. I nearly choke on my own spit when she says she couldn't bring herself to be good at that, either.
“You barely had to move!”
She grins at me across the center console. “I know! I just didn't care! I was off in my own world and dreaming about the oranges I'd get to eat on break.”
I find myself saying things I didn’t plan to say. Not necessarily big things, but more than I'd usually let loose. I tell her that I used to disappear into the equipment room at university when I wanted quiet, that I hate flying commercial because too many people approach me in airports, and that I don't ski nearly as well as everyone assumes I do.
She looks over at that. “Wait. Seriously?”
“Icanski.”
“That is not what you just said.”
I glance at her. “I said I don’t ski nearly as well as people would expect. There's a difference.”
“So you accepted a weekend at a ski resort, in public, where people will probably recognize you, to... what? Embarrass yourself?”
“I accepted a weekend in a luxury lodge with good whiskey, expensive food, and plausible business reasons attached to it. And because I needed a break from Dad Mode for a couple of days.”
“But you brought me along.” Her grin flashes, quick and bright, before she covers it again to hide the hint of pink on her cheeks.
I glance at her briefly. “Yeah. I did. You were invited.”
“You didn't have to bring me.”
“I know.”
The road climbs higher. Snow thickens at the edges of the asphalt, thick between the trees. The tops of the mountains are no longer above us but around us, all stone and bright reflected sunlight off the snow.
Carly goes quiet again, but this time it isn’t tense. She tips her head back against the window, watching the view, the line between her brows soft and her lips just slightly parted. She's relaxed.
I glance at her more times than I should.
Thisis the problem.Not the sex, though that was problem enough— it'sthis.The easy conversation, the way she keeps surprising me, the way my guard drops without permission when she looks at me with a grin on her face that I put there.
I expected attraction. Had it, fought it, lost the war to it for one reckless night and paid for it ever since.
I didn’t expect tolikeher this much.
The sign for Colchester Ski Resort appears around the next bend, elegant black lettering carved into stone half-buried in snow. A long private road winds up toward the main lodge.
Carly straightens in her seat. “Oh, wow.”
The lodge comes into view a minute later, all timber and glass and dark stone tucked against the mountain. Staff move at the entrance, a shuttle rolls past, and smoke curls up from one of countless chimneys. It's peak season, so it's busy, and I'mhonestly surprised that Wade had enough spare rooms for all of us.
I pull the car to a stop out front. Before I can even consider taking off my seatbelt, Carly is already out of the passenger side.
The cold blasts into the car when she steps out, harsh enough to make my breath pause. She turns in a slow circle beside the car, boots crunching in fresh powder, face tipped up to the air.
And then she smiles. Wide and beautiful and giddy.Just because she’s here.
I stay behind the wheel for a second, hand still resting on the shifter, and watch her through the windshield.
She draws in a deep breath like she means to keep the whole mountain in her lungs. Her cheeks are already pink from the cold, loose strands of hair lifting in the wind.
I rub at my cheek and jaw with one hand, covering the way my mouth wants to curve upward at just the sight of her excitement, swallowing to try to curb the fondness eating away at me.
Fucks sake. It’s been an hour and a half alone with her, and I'm already tempted to tear down walls.
