C
assie woke up the next morning and the realization that it was her birthday didn’t hit until she saw the text from Karen.
Left present for you on the mantle. Don’t forget.
She hadn’t forgotten about the present, but neither had she wanted to remember that it was her birthday. She was actually forty, not just almost forty, and she was spending it away from her friends and family.
Forty
and
newly divorced. She pointed her toes and reached her hands above her head, examining every last crevice of how she felt about those two facts. Discomfort lingered but, to her surprise, the pain was gone. Over the past year she’d stretched herself, taken a deep breath, and found she was more flexible than she’d thought.
Only her decision to spend her birthday away from Sam caused a slight twinge. After all, this was her first birthday without her daughter. But it wouldn’t be her last. Sam would get married and have children and maybe live far away. Her paid time off would be spent on vacations with her husband, visiting her in-laws and Tom—only a small portion of that time would be spent with Cassie. She’d always wanted that for her daughter, and now she couldn’t believe that she might want it for herself, too.
She tried to shove her musings aside, tucking her phone away and then putting on a pot of coffee. But as soon as she’d pressed the “start” button on the machine, Doug’s voice echoed across the room. “A penny for your thoughts?”
He was sitting up in bed, the sheets draped over his waist, the slight bulge of an erection visible under the piles of covers. His limbs were long and lean, his muscles firm, and the smattering of hair on his chest was slightly darker than the curls on his head. Coarser, too, she’d noticed when it had tickled her back as he’d pressed against her. A beautiful specimen of a man. Karen hadn’t needed to get her a present, because Cassie had gotten her own and he was waiting to be unwrapped.
“I’m admiring my birthday present,” she said with a smile.
Looking at Doug, forty didn’t feel so old. Her future didn’t feel so alone. There were
men
in her future.
“It’s your birthday?” He stopped rubbing the back of his head to look at her, a little confused. “Happy birthday. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Mostly because you distracted me from it. And my birthday seems so serious, when
this
”—she waved the air between them as she said the word—“is supposed to be fun.”
His eyebrows had disappeared into his alternatingly wild and mashed bedhead. “I’m not going to pretend to understand what about birthdays is ‘serious,’ but I hope we like each other enough to be both fun and serious.”
Her shoulders relaxed just looking at him. “I think we do.”
“Now, what made you frown on your birthday?” He started rubbing his head again. She should have stayed in bed with him instead of leaving to make coffee.
“This is my first birthday away from my daughter in twenty years. And she’s going to make a life of her own and spend birthdays, Christmases, and who knows what other occasions with her in-laws sometimes. And with Tom, my ex. And his girlfriend. And I’m only mostly okay with it.” Maybe not as okay with it as she thought, she realized, emotions bubbling back up. It was a selfish thought, perfectly in keeping with the rest of this vacation.
Doug swung his legs over the side of the bed, his back to her so she didn’t get to appreciate him full-on. But she got a view of his naked ass as he stood, so she wasn’t complaining. He slid on his briefs and came around into the kitchen. When he put his hands on her shoulders, she looked up into his milk-chocolate eyes. Then he lowered his head, pressing his lips to hers. She released herself into his arms, enjoying the long, slow kiss.
“I’m not frowning anymore,” she said, after he’d pulled away.
“No, and you shouldn’t frown on your birthday. Or it’s your birthday so frown all you want?” He smoothed the backside of his fingers along the side of her face, and she sank into his touch. He was offering her more than simply his fingers. There was support in his touch. And understanding. And affection.
“And what of a life of your own? Not that you don’t want to spend holidays with your daughter and not that you shouldn’t want to, but you get to have your own life, too.” He held up his hand before she could interrupt, and he wasn’t quite able to hide the shadow that crossed his features. “And it’s not selfish to want that.”
“You sound like my therapist.”
Doug blinked, then laughed. “I probably sound like a lot of people’s therapists.”
“Do you know what my ex-husband said to me after he moved out? That since I started teaching yoga, I didn’t have time for him anymore. I was teaching classes during the day while he was at work.” Cassie took a deep breath. She wasn’t angry anymore, not really, but she was disappointed, and Doug wasn’t the person she was disappointed in.
She
wasn’t the person she was disappointed in. “The only thing yoga took time away from was filing in his office and I still got all that work done. And the house cleaning. And Sam was in high school, so she didn’t need me. My therapist said marriages don’t end because the wife starts teaching yoga classes, but it sure felt like that.”
“Some men are threatened by any amount of independence in the women they love.”
“The yoga money wasn’t enough for me to be independent.” And if independence was what she got that first night in the cavernous house alone, it had been terrifying.
“No, but it probably felt like the first step in a journey that could take you there,” he said, understanding in his voice settling around her like a warm blanket.
“I’m sorry for making the morning conversation so dreary.” She tried to laugh, but the only noise that came out was hollow and small. “I guess I feel like my life is still changing on me, and I want it to stay still long enough that I can hold on to it and understand it.”
Even though he was one of the changes that made her feel unsteady in her own life, looking up into his warm brown eyes made the world feel steadier under her feet, especially when he smiled at her like she could jump out of the tram while it was suspended on the cables over the snow and land on her feet before skiing down the rest of the mountain. Maybe do a flip, too.
“Hey, you don’t need to apologize to me.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I think the spa here is even looking for a new yoga teacher, if you don’t want to ski. They’d probably take you as a sub for the rest of the week. And it’s your birthday, so you should get to do what you want.”
While the idea was appealing, her already-sore body protested. She’d forgotten how much
work
it was to point your skis downhill and maneuver to the bottom of the mountain. Add in the sex—because
those
muscles were sore, too—and she was definitely not yoga ready. “And miss out on you yelling at me on my birthday vacation? Forget about it.”
He smiled, slow and sexy. “That’s the answer I was hoping for.” His eyes flicked to the right when the coffeepot dinged beside them. “Let me pour us some coffee. We have a little time before the lifts open. I can make you some breakfast or . . . ?” He slipped his hands down her back. “Oooor . . .”
When she appeared to be considering her options, he grasped hold of her bottom and pulled her close to him, his erection hard through her thin pajama bottoms and his briefs.
“Or, of course. But I didn’t want you to feel like you can count on it.”
“Cassie, you are nothing I ever counted on.”
*
“Let’s stop for some hot chocolate,” Doug suggested as they got off the lift around ten thirty that morning. “I could use the break and maybe a snack.”
“Too much exertion for you this morning?” Cassie said, looking up at him with her lips pursed in an impish grin.
The easy way she bantered with him made him smile just as much as the implications of her question did. “I need to save up my calories for tonight. Come on,” he said with a tilt of his head over to the wooden building below the lift. “The Pine Café has good hot chocolate.”
They skied the short distance to the building and took off their skis. As they were on their way up the stairs, they passed another ski instructor, Sonja, and her group of five ski school students on their way down.
“It’s crowded,” she said. “I hope you manage to find seats by yourself.”
That made no sense. The Pine Café was always crowded. Because they had the best hot chocolate on the mountain, it was always hard to find an empty table. The fact that everyone had to share a table with strangers was part of its charm.
“Uh, thanks,” Doug said, confused.
Sonja looked from Cassie to Doug and then back to Cassie before sticking her hand out and saying, “I’m Sonja. Nice to meet you.”
Cassie’s back straightened and she looked pleased as she took Sonja’s hand. “Cassie. Nice to meet you, too.”
“Have a good day.” With a quick wave of her hand, Sonja herded her charges before her and down the stairs.
Doug shrugged and continued up the stairs behind Cassie. Only when they’d rounded the corner did he realize that he’d had his hand on Cassie’s back the whole time. He hadn’t even moved it when talking with Sonja.
“She seemed nice,” Cassie said when they reached the top of the stairs. Her goggles were up on her helmet, and her beautiful, sincere blue eyes bore into him. “It was nice to meet one of your coworkers.”
“She is nice,” he said, getting in line behind Cassie.
He should have been the one to introduce them. As soon as he had the thought, he knew the words were profoundly true. There was a general understanding that how much the instructor interacted with other employees while with a student depended a lot on the student, but Doug hadn’t been avoiding his coworkers because of Cassie. He’d been avoiding them because of his own fear and insecurity.
It hit him with such force, then, that he nearly staggered backward. He wanted her around longer. He wanted to walk up these stairs with his hand on her back again and not worry about it for a second. No, it was more than that. He wanted to take her on a date to one of the resort restaurants and walk through the doors with his arm around her. And he wanted that date to end with her coming home to
his
apartment, sitting on
his
couch, and then resting her head on his shoulder. There would be sex, or maybe there wouldn’t be, but the point would be that he was spending time with her and he’d be able to spend time with her the day after that and the day after that.
Cassie slid the tray she’d grabbed along the counter and procured two cups of hot chocolate topped with real whipped cream and a dusting of cocoa powder. She added a cookie to the tray, picking a snickerdoodle as if she already knew it was his favorite cookie.
He paid for their snacks and followed her through the crowded café, dodging children and trying not to trip over boots. Sometime in the next week, he’d be in the same line getting the same hot chocolate and maybe even the same snickerdoodle cookie, only he wouldn’t be with Cassie. He’d be with some stranger who wouldn’t be nearly as interesting, simply because that person wouldn’t be Cassie.
He shook the dismal thought out of his head. Only when Cassie looked at him with a question in her eyes did he realize that she’d asked him a question. “Sure,” he said, “this table is fine.”
He had to banish the gloom. If he couldn’t keep her around for longer, he would enjoy her company the best way he knew how.
After they finished their hot chocolates, he took her all over the mountain, not just the back trails she wouldn’t discover on her own but also the runs that made Snowdance so popular. They skied together for the most part, Doug staying near enough to Cassie to hear her talk to herself and try to apply the lessons he’d taught her so far this week.
On their last run before lunch, she stopped and said, “Knee to boot,” under her breath.
“It sounds like you don’t need me anymore,” he said when he stopped beside her.
“Ha!” she said, then pushed hard on her poles and skied off without him.
When he caught up with her, she was waiting for him near a copse of trees. He was skiing into shouting distance when something flew through the air and hit him in the chest. Snow was splattered against the blue of his coat. He skied closer, close enough to see her mischievous smile, but his reaction time wasn’t fast enough. She laughed out loud at what must have been evident surprise on his face when a second snowball hit him, smack in the center of his chest again.
“Where did you find enough loose snow to make a good snowball?” he called out.
“I’m tricky like that,” she called back.
Laughter rolled down the slope around him, followed shortly by Sonja and her group of students. Sonja shook her head at him, but she was smiling as she lifted her pole up at them like a thumbs-up as she passed, even though she would be the recipient of some snowballs from the kids before the day was over. Cassie laughed and lifted her pole, matching Sonja’s salute.
He’d probably hear about this incident in the locker room later. And have to look out for snowballs at his head for the rest of the year.
He wanted to be able to call Cassie when Sonja’s revenge hit, to share the inside joke and see the naughty grin return to her face at the memory. A barrage of snowballs would be worth it to hear the mischief and pride in Cassie’s voice when he told her.