Caught by the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 1) (11 page)

“Damnit, why do these things have to be so high up?” she muttered to herself. Liz took a few deep breaths, her cheeks puffing out as she slowly exhaled. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Don’t say that. You’re kicking ass.” A memory of my dad popped into my mind. Rather than pushing it away like I always did, I embraced it. Pointing to the run we were about to go down, I continued, “Take a look at the trail. Imagine yourself standing on top of it, about to go down.”

Liz dropped her gaze to me, fear and doubt evident in her eyes. “I can’t, I really can’t. This was so stupid.”

“Just look,” I said firmly. I carried on as she slowly turned away from me. “Imagine yourself standing at the top, like a little figure up there,” I pointed. “Picture yourself going down the run. Map the path you’d take with your eyes, the broad turns you’d take—”

“The place where I face plant and slide all the way down.”

“Stop, I’m serious. Positive visualization is a powerful thing. My dad taught me when I was little, just like this.” Liz fell quiet. There was no way she could’ve known how rare it was for me to talk about him, but I was glad she was there to listen. “It’s almost like you’re holding a figurine of yourself, like this!” We watched as a snowboarder came flying over the edge, obviously continuing his run from the top of the mountain judging by his speed. I leaned over her and pinched my fingers together, the perspective making it look like I was guiding him down the mountain by hand.

Liz tensed as the chair rocked with my movement, grabbing my bicep. “Sorry,” she said with embarrassment.

“Don’t be.” My chest swelled when I realized she wasn’t going to remove her hand. “So, in your mind, you’re flying down the run but at the same time, you’re sitting here trying to imagine what it’d feel like. What muscles would you use, how you’d shift and lean, stuff like that. I don’t expect you to know how to do that yet, but you’ll get there.”

She smiled at me warmly, giving my arm a little squeeze. “Your dad taught you that?”

The memory still felt raw but for some reason, it didn’t sting so badly when she was with me. I nodded tightly. “Actually, it was on that lift over there, before they turned it into the gondolas. It was my first trip to the top and he told me the same thing.”

A comfortable silence fell between us. The snow and mountains always brought me peace, exactly what I’d been looking for when I packed up and left for Tellure Hollow. I wasn’t expecting to find someone I could feel just as peaceful with, especially so quickly. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. There was something about her, about the two of us, that matched on a cellular level.

“What?” she giggled a little self-consciously.

“We’re at the top,” I replied, tilting my head towards the fast approaching end. Her grip on my arm strengthened as I lifted the safety bar. “It’s simple. Keep your tips pointed up and scoot your ass to the edge of the seat. When the snow rises to meet you, just stand up.”

I thought she was going to chew her bottom lip off completely. “Okay. Can I still hold onto you?”

“Absolutely.” Oh yeah, I had it bad for this girl. This was trouble.

I gave the liftie a quick nod to let him know I had a beginner with me. The last thing I wanted was Liz getting whacked on the back of the head by the chair or something stupid. Firmly, I repeated the same instructions, the exit gently rising to meet our skis. I stood quickly, nearly yanking her to her feet, and let the momentum of the hill carry us down.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she cried, clutching at my arm. I had to hold her up but we both made it to the bottom without falling.

“See? Not hard at all,” I said, patting her hand with mine.

“Piece of cake.” I chuckled as she rolled her eyes and exhaled dramatically.

The snow on this side of the mountain was a little choppier. The sun softened it during the day and now as the temperature dropped, the carved snow was turning to icy granules. It wasn’t anything I’d think twice about, but for a beginner, it was night and day compared to powder. I pushed forward to the crest of the hill and looked back to watch Liz shamble over. She released a string of obscenities as she drew close.

“That is
so
steep. I can’t do that, I can’t,” she insisted.

“You absolutely can. Just keep your skis in a wedge and you won’t go fast at all. I’m going to go down a little bit ahead of you. I want you to concentrate on following my tracks.” She looked terrified, her eyes practically pleading me for another way down. I rubbed her back and leaned close, the smell of her sweat and shampoo flooding my senses. “You’ve got this, Liz. Trust me.”

Staring down the hill, she nodded, convincing herself of that truth. When our eyes met, I thought for a second she might kiss me. Maybe she would’ve if she hadn’t been afraid I was leading her to her death.

“I trust you,” she said softly.

“Good. First part is the steepest then it levels out like the bunny slope. You ready?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. “Yes.”

“You’ll have to open your eyes first,” I joked. Laughing at the glare she shot me, I pushed off.

Even though the pain was excruciating, I pointed my tips together and took wide, serpentine turns. I kept an eye on Liz over my shoulder. Her mouth was moving, and even though I was too far away to hear, I was sure she was cursing up a storm. Her eyes glued to the tracks I was leaving, she roughly followed the same path down. Just as I’d hoped, her concentration broke through any fear she had about pointing downhill.

“You’re doing great,” I yelled. When she glanced up at my voice, I knew she was in for a tumble. As she lifted her head and lost concentration, her left tip crossed over her right, catching on a patch of snow.

“Shit!” she yelled as she fell, flinging her arms out to brace herself. A ski popped free from her boot as she collided with the ground. Luckily, she hadn’t been going too fast. I collected the loose ski and quickly climbed the hill, my leg and ass muscles screaming in protest. She sat up as I approached.

“Sorry, instructor’s curse. I shouldn’t have said anything. Are you alright?” I asked tentatively, holding a hand out. She squinted at me before taking it.

“How many ski instructors does it take to put in a lightbulb?”

I laughed and shook my head. “I don’t know, how many?” She grabbed my hand and I pulled her up. Standing downslope, we were now eye-level.

“Eleven. One to put it in and ten to analyze the turning.”

A broad smile spread across my face as I dropped her ski down. She braced herself on my shoulder as she stepped back into the bindings, the ski clicking back into place. “That’s a good one, actually. Hadn’t heard it in a while. You good to go?” She nodded curtly. I pointed downhill as I spoke. “You see how it levels out there? Watch me go down, watch how my body leans and then follow my tracks.”

I stepped back and continued the painful wedge down the rest of the first hill, acutely aware of her eyes on my body. I allowed myself to pick up a little speed towards the flat and shifted my weight, coming to a skate stop in a spray of snow. Waving my hands above my head, I signaled for her to follow.

Tentatively, carefully, she traced my tracks, gaining confidence with every turn. The fall had obviously shaken away a lot of her fear. I grew tense as I noticed she was picking up speed, not quite out of control, but flirting with it. As she rounded the last curve, I was fully nervous.

“Wedge, wedge!” She headed straight for me. I spread my legs wide, bracing to catch her. Liz veered off at the last second, kicking her heels out in a textbook skate stop, coming to a halt just before the tips of my skis. She showered my lower half with granular snow, grinning at my surprise.

“Isn’t that how you did it?” she said with practiced innocence.

I nodded appreciatively, side stepping closer. “Maybe you are a natural.”

“I told you I was. I knew—” she stumbled as she tried to step closer, falling into me. I moved in time, barely catching her under the arms.

It happened so quickly, but later I’d run it over and over in my mind. Liz steadied herself, hands on my shoulders, eyes gazing at my mouth. She bit her lower lip for a second before kissing me, her mouth hot and intense against mine. The kiss lasted only a moment but I savored it. She pulled away, scanning my face for a reaction.

Still in my arms, she looked up into my eyes. “We’re having a party tomorrow night. You should come,” she whispered.

“I—yeah, sure. Love to,” I stammered.

“Good,” she replied. Her eyes darted to my mouth as if she wanted to kiss me again, but she pulled herself upright. “Now, let’s get off this fucking mountain and get a drink. My ass is sore.”

____________

“Say it again,” she giggled, leaning closer. A waft of her perfume floated towards me.

“Après-ski.” I wet my lips and enunciated the word. “
Ah-pray
. It’s French,” I smiled.

“And what does it mean?” She looked at me sideways as she sipped her brandy.

I gestured to the bar, to all the people sitting around us. “This. It means, ‘after skiing’ and some people wrap their whole lives around it. Every mountain has a little group of people who don’t ski but just chill out in the bars and restaurants.”

“Like groupies,” she laughed, tossing her hair back. “For someone who just got into town, you know a lot about this place.”

I shrugged, letting the alcohol warm my throat and chest. “I kind of grew up around ski resorts.” It was technically true.

We were sitting on a plush sofa at the far end of the room. I’d slung my arm over the back casually which Liz had slowly but surely slid beneath. She was now close enough our knees touched. “So, you started skiing when you were little?”

I pressed my knee against her a bit, craving even more contact. “Yeah. Pretty much been skiing my whole life. My dad taught me and my brother before we were five.” I thought about the photo in the album of dad skiing behind me, holding me with the straps.

“And that’s why you came here? So you could ski?”

“Mmmhmm,” It was true…just not completely true. I still wasn’t entirely sure why I’d come to Tellure Hollow. “What about you?” I asked, my fingers grazing her shoulder from above. “What made you want to come here?”

She shrugged, the foot on her crossed leg started to waggle. “Kayla. Well, Kayla and my mom. She loved to ski but since we lived in North Carolina, we never got to go.” She’d managed to inch so close she had to look up into my eyes. “How do you think I did today?”

With a little liquid courage to bolster me, I took a deep breath. I slid my hand up to the side of her jaw, her hair wrapping around my fingers. I didn’t answer her question, my thought tumbling out in its place. “You’re incredible.” Our lips hovered a fraction apart, noses grazing the skin of our cheeks, the sexual tension almost too much to take.

Liz nibbled her bottom lip before plunging forward, her mouth hot against mine. It was like an explosion went off inside me at the contact. She slid into the crook of my arm, pressing her warm body against mine. The world vanished, my past disappeared. All that mattered was her. Her lips, her scent, her everything. It made every other kiss I’d ever had pale in comparison. I was taken aback by the heat in her eyes when we pulled apart. For a moment, I thought she might tackle me right there. Instead, she took a deep breath and slid back a bit.

“I think I should probably go before I get myself into trouble,” she smiled demurely. “You are coming to the party tomorrow night, right?”

“Try to stop me,” I smiled.

I love days that end differently than you expected them to. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be spending the afternoon with Bryan Marsh, certainly not after the way we’d left things. With all the fresh air, the brandy we had in the lodge after the lesson ended, the kiss…I was buzzing. I was in a blissful, happy place as Kayla pulled the Jeep into the driveway. The cabin glowed in the gloomy night, warm and inviting. A light snow fell, dusting the steps so our shoes left prints as we ascended.

Kayla and I planned what we were going to make for dinner as we kicked off our boots. I immediately spotted Noah in the kitchen, his back turned towards us. Kayla frowned at me.

“Great, maybe we should just skip it. Can’t you two just make up? For me?” I hadn’t seen Noah much since the altercation, but the strain between us was close to unbearable. I knew it was making everyone in the house uncomfortable, and after making up with Bryan, I figured I could swallow my pride and apologize for the sake of peace.