“Amateurs.”
A few minutes later, he drove the SUV down to the road and parked it where the skiers couldn’t miss it if they made it through Devil’s Switchback in one piece.
He tossed all their gear in the back without a care. Then he leaned against the hood to wait.
After a while, four people appeared, skis tucked under their arms, faces red from the wind and anger.
One of them ripped off his goggles. “Dude, what the hell?”
Rome didn’t push away from the hood. “You won’t need to go back up the mountain for your gear. I tore it down. Everything’s in the SUV. Don’t come back to the mountain.”
Two people opened the back and saw the state of their tent poles, which Rome made sure they’d never be using again.
They huffed and murmured among themselves, stowing their skis and gear. Then they climbed in the vehicle, and he watched them drive away, tires whirring on snow, before setting off toward base again.
He still had to get back up the mountain, but he could use the long walk to clear his head.
He only made half the climb before he heard the growl of an engine and looked up, expecting to see the same trespassers or even a new group coming to take advantage of fresh powder. But he saw one of their own SUVs with Monk behind the wheel.
“Figured you might want a ride.”
With a grunt, he climbed into the passenger seat. After Monk put the vehicle in gear, he threw Rome a look. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
His brow hitched upward. “Like what?”
“You’re always in control. The guy we all count on to be levelheaded.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I’ve never seen you rattled.”
“Who the hell said I’m rattled?” he growled.
Monk kept his attention on the road but his mouth twitched. “When Stina threw your shirt at you, you looked pretty damn rattled to me.”
Rome issued a noise low in his throat.
“She’s pretty,” Monk said.
“I don’t need a woman, pretty or otherwise. I’m not desperate. I’ve had women since joining Sierra.”
“But she’s the first one to get under your skin.”
Hell. Monk was right. Since the moment they met and she didn’t react the way any normal, sane woman would after seeing a dead body, he’d been trying to figure her out.
In the time he’d known her, the only thing he knew was that she argued with everything he said.
She also had beautiful eyes and a perfect ass and a tattoo on her back that drove him crazy all night.
And he knew she was too quiet at breakfast.
The only thing worse than Stina being upset was Stina being quiet.
“You know, when Jolie first got here—” Monk began.
“Not talking about this,” he cut him off.
“I didn’t get my point across.”
