Rhonda nods in agreement as her eyes flick to mine. “Then we really do need to tell someone.”
Since we don’t know anyone, we decide the cute guy at the check-in counter is a good place to start. But after sounding the alarm, he brushes us off with, “It’s fine. There’s way too much snow for anything to happen. Besides, we only get forest fires in the summer when it’s dry.”
Rhonda and I protest, doing our best to persuade him to call someone. We even explained that we get snow in Oregon too, and we get fires in the winter when everything is wet, but he couldn’t be convinced. If anything, he acted like we were a couple of dumb bimbos. What a dick.
Finally, Rhonda turns to me with, “Let’s just go throw some snow on it and be done with it. Then we don’t have to worry.”
I don’t want to trudge all the way out there, but it is a nice day, and she’s right, then we won’t spend the rest of the day worrying about it. “Sure,” I groan. “Might as well.”
Together, we walk past the pool, past all the people enjoying themselves like we should be, then come to the end of the cedar-wood deck and step into the snow with our big furry white boots. At least it’s comfortably warm out, and the snow is packed hard enough that we don’t sink more than a few inches. This might not be as bad as I imagined.
It’s about thirty yards to a small hill. When we reach the top, we realize that the plume of smoke is coming from behind a large boulder that’s covered in snow. Fortunately, we can’t see any flames which means I was right, it’s just something smoldering.
The closer we get, the scent of smoke grows stronger, but we still don’t see any hint of flames which means it isn’t going to take much to douse whatever the source is. Then we can get back and relax for the rest of the day. And besides, now that we’re out here, it’s kind of nice. The mountains are gorgeous and the sun reflecting off the snow glistens like glitter. I’ll take some pics on our way back and send them to Mom. She loves scenery like this.
We’re close, and I can’t help noticing how warm my toes are. These cheap boots are built better than I expected. Go figure.
We’ve reached the boulder, and as we round the corner, I stop dead in my tracks. What the… a campfire? “I don’t think fires are allowed here.”
Do I acknowledge the two giant men standing in front of us? Do I pause to take in what we clearly didn’t expect to find? Do I act the least bit surprised? No. Instead, the words just came out, like I’m some sort of Karen and somehow, I’ve deputized myself as the official campfire police. As soon as the words leave my lips, I feel the heat in my cheeks. So embarrassing.
And now that I have a second to process it all, I’m not sure how I even spoke in the first place, because suddenly I’m speechless at the sight of what might be the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s leaning casually against the boulder like he has every right to be here and have a fire if he damn well wants one.
At my comment, he looks up and turns to face us. I can’t help myself—my eyes travel up and down his body, then linger at his massive, perfect chest. He’s… something. Tall, with eyes you could get lost in, and everything about him is rugged, built, chiseled, a perfect specimen of a man if there ever was one. But his gaze is boring into me like I’m… I don’t know what, like there’s something wrong.
Suddenly I’m aware of our situation. Two girls barely wearing anything out here in the middle of nowhere, far enough from the lodge that no one would hear us scream. What did we just walk into?
“Holy shit, it’s you,” Damon shouts excitedly from behind us. Glen and Randy are with him. They must have followed us, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. I’ve never been so glad to hear their voices.
When they come to our sides, I can’t help noticing how they’re dressed. They’ve got their T-shirts back on, but they’re wearing wet swim trunks, no socks that I can see, andcowboy boots. They look ridiculous.
“Wow, it’s both of you,” Glen announces, just as excited.
What’s going on? From the admiration in his eyes you’d think we were standing in front of two famous rock stars or A-list celebrities.
“Dammit! I don’t have my phone,” Randy blurts. He turns, glancing back toward the lodge. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” And with that, he sprints off.
I’m so confused. Who are these guys? Obviously, they’re brothers. The one sitting by the fire melting snow in a pot is just as gorgeous as the bigger one, but in a different sort of way.
And now that I feel safe, I’m back to ogling the bigger man. Who has a body like that? Hell, who has an ass like that? And his face? God, I love a guy with a beard, but not too long. His is perfection. Wait, am I—ugh, I’m doing the same thing the boys were doing to Rhonda and me back at the pool. I’m such a hypocrite.
The big one, or bigger one rather, they’re both large men, but the one I can’t seem to pull my eyes away from turns to me. “Where did you come from?”
I swallow hard. “Oregon.”
“No, I mean how are you here?”
I don’t understand the question.
The other guy stands and shoots us a smile that could melt steel. “I think my brother is trying to ask where we are. We thought we were on a mountain ridge in the middle of nowhere, but obviously we’re not.”
“Oh, I get it,” Rhonda says. She’s practically eye-fucking the guy and not trying to hide it. “This is AntelopeLodge. The ski resort is right over there.” She points behind us, though we can’t see the lodge from here. “It’s just over that hill,” she explains.
The two men look at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.
After a minute, the bigger one turns back to us. “I’m sorry, but do any of you have a phone we can use? We need to call our sister.”
As if on cue, Randy shows up, huffing like he just ran a marathon. “Can I get a pic with you guys? No one’s going to believe this.”
