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“Do you smell that?” I asked.
“It’s coming from over there.” He pointed down the slope. “Come on.”
I followed him down the hill toward the smoke. We skied around a row of trees and halted in front of a cave.
I stilled.
I was wrong. I was so, so wrong to think he couldn’t top the chopper.
Inside the cave, the walls shimmered with crystalline formations, catching and reflecting the soft glow of countless candles. The warm light revealed a meticulously set table for two, adorned with delicate dishes and sparkling glassware. I gasped, realizing he had orchestrated this magical moment. Every detail, from the echoing drip of melting snow to the gentle flicker of the candle flames, made it an unforgettable moment, a pocket of warmth and romance amidst the cold majesty of the mountain.
“James, this... This is beautiful.”
“I hope you didn’t think I wanted to get you in bed without a proper date.”
I unclipped my boots from the skis, and he did the same.
“A date?” I asked. “This is way more than a date. I... I can’t believe you did this.”
We set our skis and poles into the snow. He took my hand and led me inside. I couldn’t keep my mouth closed. The scene was absolute perfection. He pulled out a bottle of red wine from a cooler and uncorked it with quick precision. The aroma of its dry leaves and plump blackberries filled the cave’s air.
“I asked the chef to prepare your favorite meal,” he said, pouring red liquid into two glasses. “I hope you’re in the mood for steak and mashed potatoes.”
“Seriously?,” I said, still feeling a bit taken aback by the thoughtfulness. “How did you know?”
“I have my ways, Ms. Young.”
He pulled out my chair for me to sit, then took his seat. “Let’s eat,” he said, raising his glass.
We clinked our glasses together before taking a sip of the rich and fruity wine. The steak was cooked to perfection, tender, and juicy, and the potatoes were creamy with the right amount of butter. The conversation flowed back and forth, ranging from what we did for a living to our favorite childhood memories. With every passing moment, I found myself drawn to him, intrigued by his tales and amused by his jokes.
He cleared the plates from our dinner, packing them into a backpack, and I realized how much I had forgotten about the rest of the world. For this one moment, all that mattered was the beautiful view of the mountains, the gorgeous man sitting across from me, and the sheer romance of the afternoon. Before I knew it, the candles had burned down low, and we had to leave.
“I don’t want this afternoon to end,” I whispered.
“It doesn’t have to.” He replied. “How sore are you?”
I stretched my arms above my head. “A little. The powder was tough.”
“We should get going then. I have a surprise for you.”
“Another one? What is it?”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”
I wasn’t used to being this spoiled by anyone. “Mr. Silver, if you’re trying to get into my pants, you had me the evening we met at the door.” I lifted to my toes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.
A shout echoed down the hill, and I jumped back. Next thing I knew, my boots were fastened and I was on my skis, speeding downhill after a young boy who flapped his arms in the air, crying. He wouldn’t make the bend at that speed.
I zipped behind him, widening my stance. I released my ski poles and scooped him underneath his arms. My legs burned from the speed and weight as I hoisted him off the ground. I shifted my weight to the right, turning my skis to stop our momentum. A wall of powder shot out from below the skis.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I couldn’t stop!” the boy cried.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. What’s your name?”
“Trevor.”
