Falling for Mister Wrong (24 page)

Twenty-eight minutes before her first
student. There was time.

Caitlyn dug out the MMP cell phone and
dialed.

He answered on the second ring, but then, of
course he would. He thought she’d be back in love with him after
watching last night.

“Sweetheart! Are you counting the days until
our little getaway? I know I am.”

The mid-season vacation they were supposed to
take together. She’d completely forgotten it. He did sound excited.
Which made her feel guilty for what she was about to say—and how
completely emotionless she felt about saying it. Shouldn’t she at
least be sad that she was about to end their relationship? She
wasn’t sure she had ever loved him, but if he had truly loved her…
if he still did…

She found herself hesitating, and blurting
out, “My landlord is selling my place.”

“Oh.” It took him a moment to process that
out of the blue declaration. Then, “That’s great, sweetheart! You
can probably get out of your lease early—”

“Actually, I was thinking I might put in an
offer. You haven’t seen Tuller Springs, Daniel. You don’t
understand how the mountains get into your soul. I really love it
here. It’s become my home.”

“Honey.” The endearment was low, patronizing.
“We’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, but we never actually agreed. It’s not
a lot of money. Even if we did end up together and wanted to be
somewhere else, it would make a great vacation home. Our own little
ski chalet.” Even as she heard the words leaving her mouth, she
realized she was doing it again—bending what she wanted to fit
around his plans. She didn’t want Tuller Springs only on vacations.
But compromise is what relationships are founded on…

“Do you even ski?”

“No, but I’ve been thinking about learning.”
An image of Will popped into her head, rugged and grinning as he
raced down the mountain.

“Baby—sweetheart, I know this is a big
change, but you need a clean break. The middle of nowhere Colorado?
You’ll only ever be a piano teacher there.”

“That’s all I
want
to be, Daniel.” She
let the edge into her voice, but he didn’t seem to hear it.

“But there’s so much more in you, baby. I see
that. I see
you
.”

“No. You don’t. And I don’t think you ever
have.” There was more in her—but it was bull rides and brownie
bites and Daniel couldn’t see that. He never would. He wanted her
up on that goddamn pedestal so high she couldn’t touch the world
around her.

“Sweetheart…”

“I don’t want to marry you, Daniel. I don’t
want any of it.”

“Caitlyn…”

She could hear him getting ready to evade,
getting ready to sidestep the objections that might get in the way
of his plans. “I’m breaking up with you, Daniel. Now. We’re
done.”

“Caitlyn, baby, don’t be hasty.”

“I’m not being hasty, Daniel. I’m being
me
.”

She hung up, flooded by triumph, relief…and a
guilt chaser.

He’d be fine. He hadn’t loved her, and even
if he thought he had, he’d get over it. He may be bummed for a day
or two, but he’d bounce back. Stronger than ever. He was Mister
Perfect, after all. And it wasn’t her job to console him. She
couldn’t make them both miserable for the rest of their lives just
to spare him the hurt in this second.

She had to pursue her own happiness. Even if
that made her a horrible, selfish person that all of America would
hate.

Sometimes a girl just had to do something for
her own happiness.

Caitlyn reached for her other phone, dialing
the recently programmed number.

“Will? I want to take you up on that offer. I
want to learn to ski.”

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

Caitlyn went down—again—with a thump, a
groan, and a puff of snow. Will skied to where she had landed in an
awkward heap, his little flicker of concern easing when he heard
her self-deprecating laugh.

“I think we’ve found another thing that I’m
terrible at.”

“Everyone sucks at skiing their first time
out. It’s a rite of passage.” He grabbed one of her flailing skis
and helped her organize her limbs before she attempted to get
vertical again. “You’re actually doing pretty well.”
Bald faced
lie.
She had zero natural aptitude for the sport. “And look on
the bright side, at least no one can see you falling on your
face.”

They’d had to wait until she was done
teaching for the day before he could take her out on the mountain
and in the evenings the bunny hill was all but abandoned. A ridge
shielded it from the rest of the resort and gave them as much
privacy as they could hope for on a ski slope.

Her skis now side by side, he reached down,
his gloved hands catching hers as he levered her up onto her skis
again, bracing her when she would have gone sliding off.

“When do I get those pole things?” she asked,
jerking her chin to where he had stabbed his poles into the snow at
the base of the bunny hill.

“When you can stay on your feet without them.
Right now they would just get in your way and you’d probably ending
up stabbing yourself with one. Or worse, me.”

She shot him a disgruntled look—which would
have been more effective if she hadn’t looked so adorable. Her
cheeks were rosy above the top of her scarf, eyes bright—and just a
little cranky.

“My legs don’t do what you want them to do,”
she complained. “I had this great image of myself flying
effortlessly down the slopes. Instead I’m here in a dorky helmet on
my ass half the time.”

“You will fly effortlessly. Someday. In the
mean time, you look fabulous in the dorky helmet and it’s a
fabulous ass.” Even if it was hidden in the fluff of the hot pink
snow pants.

She stuck out her tongue at him and he
laughed.

“Come on. Try again.” He coaxed her into
position. “And this time, try not to lean back so far. It doesn’t
slow you down. It just takes away your control and throws you off
balance.”

“To slow down, make a pizza wedge,” she
muttered to herself.

“Exactly.”

He released her and she began an awkward
glide down the smoothly groomed slope. “That’s better,” he called.
“Now try a turn. Weight on your inside ski and just glide around,
nice and smooth.”

She kept sliding down the slope—perfectly
straight.

“Try a turn,” he yelled again, louder. She’d
done them before, but this time she just kept coasting straight for
the edge of the slope.

“I can’t!” she hollered.

“Make a wedge to slow down,” he shouted,
skiing over until he was right below her on the hill, reaching up
to catch her.

And somehow she managed to turn. Uphill. Out
of his reach.

She slid right off the edge of the neatly
groomed bunny hill, into the buffer of soft, deep powder designed
to stop the beginners before they made it to the tree line. She
wasn’t going particularly fast—though it probably felt fast to
her—and as soon as her skis hit the deeper snow, they
stopped—though her body kept moving forward, sending her tumbling
into the snow bank with a shout. She landed with a spray of snow
and a grunt.

Will cringed. “You okay?”

She twisted on the ground, tangled in her
skis. “I have fatally wounded my pride.”

“Pride is overrated.” He reached down to
gently rearrange her skis so she didn’t damage her knees trying to
get up.

“Says the Ski God who makes it look so
easy
,” she grumbled.

“I’ve skied pretty much every day I could
since I was four. It gives me a slight advantage.” He reached down
to help her to her feet, but this time when she took his hands, she
yanked and he tipped to thump into the snow beside her.

When he dusted the snow out of his eyes, he
saw that she was grinning. “You hadn’t spent any time on your ass.
Didn’t want it to think it wasn’t
fabulous
enough to visit
the snow like mine.”

“Happy now?” He gently brushed the loose snow
from her cheek, with one gloved thumb.

Her gaze went soft, shifting to rest on his
mouth and everything in his body tightened. They’d come this close
to a kiss before and she’d always pulled away. No reason this time
should be any different. She still had over a month of the show
left.

Her eyes would slide to the side, a blush
would creep up her cheeks, and he’d be left aching. He couldn’t say
she was a tease. He knew exactly what he was getting into with her,
but the waiting wasn’t getting any easier.

“Can anyone see us?” she whispered, never
looking away from him.

“Not unless they climbed up that ridge over
there with a telephoto lens.” Will nodded toward the ridge, though
he didn’t take his own eyes away from Caitlyn and her mouth.

“If they’re that dedicated,” she murmured,
“they deserve the shot.”

She leaned toward him. Any second now. Her
gaze would slide away first. But instead her lashes fell heavily to
veil her eyes.

And…

Her lips were on his, soft as silk, sweet as
honey, and more addictive than the rush of cutting the first tracks
through fresh snow.

It was just a brush, a taste, a sweet little
peck of a kiss. An invitation.

He took it from there. Deepening, coaxing,
and she yielded to him with a soft sigh. They were both wrapped in
too many layers of clothing. He’d never hated his gloves more, for
keeping him from her skin. But God, the taste of her.

When he finally lifted his head, her cheeks
were flushed and her eyes as lust-dazed as he felt.

“On second thought, I think I like skiing,”
she murmured.

He chuckled, the sound a little hoarse. “I’m
glad to hear it, but we should probably get up before we both
freeze our fabulous asses off.” He shoved to his feet and took a
moment to steady himself before reaching down and tugging her up.
Even bundled up, she was light and he put his hands on her
waist—ostensibly to help her balance, but mostly because he liked
the feel of her, even through all the padding. “You ready for one
more attempt? From the bottom of the bunny hill it’s a straight,
gentle slope all the way down to the Lodge and after we return your
rental gear you get the best part of your first day of skiing.”

“Oh? Better than making out with the hot
instructor?”

“I was thinking warming up with hot cocoa and
massaging the aches out of your muscles in front of a fire, but I
could be persuaded to consider other forms of heating you up and
rewarding you for all your work tonight.”

A tantalizing glint entered her dark blue
eyes. “Which way to the Lodge?”

#

Caitlyn didn’t know what had come over her.
Sure, she was done with Daniel—which still felt amazing—but she
could still get sued for having a relationship, so what the hell
was she doing making out with Will in the snow?

She couldn’t have felt less sexy during her
first ski lesson. She’d looked like the Staypuff Marshmallow man,
dunked in fluorescent food coloring and wearing a bike helmet, and
she’d somehow managed to fall down every fifteen seconds—whether
she was moving or standing still. It could have been an
excruciating experience. By rights, perhaps it should have been.
But the way he’d looked at her…

His eyes had tracked her, filled with
affection and poorly banked heat, and she’d shivered—and not from
the cold either—though snow seemed to have crept inside every
article of clothing she was wearing and she wasn’t sure she was
ever going to warm up all the way again. Though Will was welcome to
help…

By the time she’d gotten the courage to tug
him down on the snow beside her and plant one on him, she’d felt
like her skin was two sizes too small for her body and she was
going to burst right out of it if she couldn’t kiss him right that
second. It had been perfect. So right she’d gotten chills. Though
that might have been the snow.

But now, as she stood pouring hot water from
the kettle over the instant cocoa powder in two mugs, watching Will
arrange their damp winter wear over the drying rack he’d set up
beside the potbelly stove, her nerves were back with a
vengeance.

What did she know about seduction? A big fat
nothing. That had been part of the appeal of going on the show—they
would take care of all that for her, set up romantic scenarios that
even she couldn’t screw up and coach her through them. Now she was
on her own and Caitlyn had never known what to do with herself in
sexy situations.

She stalled as long as she could, stirring
the powder, making sure it was perfectly dissolved. Will stoked the
fire he’d set in the stove. She could already feel the warmth of it
dispelling the winter’s chill—but it did nothing to warm her frozen
nerves.

“Caitlyn?”

She jolted out of her daze, catching Will
watching her with a little crinkle of concern between his brows.
“Cocoa’s ready!” she chirped, far too brightly—that wasn’t sexy,
damn it. She picked up the mugs to carry them over to the sitting
area.

Will accepted his mug and settled himself on
one end of the couch, his free arm stretched along the back in
silent invitation. Was she supposed to just plop herself next to
him? Curl up against all that gorgeous masculinity and make herself
at home?

Her stomach jumped with nerves and she slid
onto the couch—as far as she could get from him while still being
on the same piece of furniture. He didn’t react, simply sipped his
cocoa and murmured something complimentary about the chocolate.

“Yeah, I spring for the good stuff with my
cocoa,” she babbled, unable to keep that freakish cheeriness out of
her voice. “No expense spared on chocolate in this house.”

She sounded like she was at a pep rally. If
he made a move she’d probably start a freaking cheer in his honor
and scare him senseless.