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We’re going to need the energy.
Zoey
Istand here at the bottom of the slope, the crisp mountain air at my back and the snow crunching softly beneath my boots, and wait for Morris to join me. The early winter sun casts a warm, golden glow over the Smoky Mountains, and we honestly couldn’t have asked for a more breathtaking backdrop for today’s photo shoot.
Langford and the photographer, Erica, are talking over the images he wants her to capture as I bend to strap into my skis.
“Wait, Zoey. I want to get a few snaps of you holding your skis under the Misty Mountain Ranch and Ski Area sign,” Erica calls.
I’m itching to get on the mountain, but I oblige and make my way over to the wooden sign that stands above the entrance to the chairlifts.
Morris exits the locker room and joins us.
He looks amazing. Langford and Garrett had cool retro snowsuits made for us. Mine is a teal one-piece suit with a white faux fur trim collar. His is red with brown fur.
The wording and resort logo on our skis match the suits.
“You guys look amazing,” Garrett praises.
Morris starts striking silly poses.
I groan. “If you make me look bad, I’m going to kill you.”
He throws an arm over my shoulders. “It’s impossible to make you look bad,” he murmurs.
“Okay, lovebirds, I’m liking this energy. Let’s get some of your chemistry on camera while we still have this great natural light. Then, we’ll switch it up, and I’ll get video footage of the two of you playing around and racing on skis,” Erica requests.
We spend the next two hours taking directions from Erica and her team.
Langford has poured his heart and soul into creating this ski resort, and I’m proud to be part of it.
Misty Mountain Ranch and Ski Area are about to become a sought-after winter travel destination, nestled deep in the heart of the Smokies.
The inaugural season has been a moderate success, due mainly to all of Langford’s hands-on attention to detail, but with Garrett’s star power and me lending my notoriety in the sports world as well as bringing my future training camp to Balsam Ridge, next year will be phenomenal.
“Zoey, you ready?”
Morris’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I can’t help but smile, my heart skipping a beat at the sight of him poised to ski the figure eight with me.
“Ready when you are, handsome,” I call.
Erica gives us the signal to begin, and he takes my hand in his and kisses my wrist before we glide down the mountainside together, our skis cutting graceful arcs in the freshly fallen snow. It’s like a dance; we move in perfect synchronization.
As we descend, Erica captures the magic of the moment in every shot—our laughter, our shared glances, and the pure exhilaration of skiing in these majestic mountains. I know these photos and videos will be more than just promotional material; they will be memories frozen in time, reminding us of this precious period in our lives. Falling in love on the slopes.
At the bottom of the mountain, we stop to catch our breath.
Morris turns to me. “This place is incredible. I can’t wait to see what it becomes.”
I couldn’t agree more.
It’s not just a business; it’s a testament to family, love, and the beautiful spirit of the Smoky Mountains.
“I think we have everything we need,” Erica says as she watches the playback. “The camera loves you two.”
Morris looks to Langford. “It’s nice to know if this resort gig doesn’t work out, I can always fall back on a modeling career.”
