Cowboys & Angels (2 page)

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Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson

BOOK: Cowboys & Angels
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Elle rolled her eyes. “You really should ask him out. You’re obviously into his brand of drama.”

“You should be, too. A Prince Charming like him doesn’t come along every day of the week. You may look back on this later and realize you screwed up a golden opportunity.”

“Maybe I will, Sam, but the timing is way off.” She gazed at her friend. “He may be a prince, but I’m not ready for a fairy-tale ending.”

2

T
REY
ENJOYED
A
rowdy dinner with everyone from the Last Chance, including the prospective bride and groom. Once Trey understood the layout of the resort, he realized that his spur-of-the-moment invitation to Elle might have been impractical. The formal dining room had been appropriated for Last Chance people, which left the coffee shop and the bar for private meals. Neither of those places suited Trey’s image of treating Elle to a special dining experience.

During dinner, the hotel manager passed around sign-up sheets for resort activities. Trey had never skied a day in his life, but he signed up for lessons when he saw that Elle was listed as one of the instructors.

For eight months she’d been a mystery woman he couldn’t forget, but other than her voice, her eyes and that halo of blond hair, he’d known nothing about her. She could have been a teenager or a senior citizen, short or tall, plump or skinny, plain or pretty.

And now he knew. She took his breath away. How amazing to think that Pam and Emmett’s wedding had brought him face-to-face with Elle Masterson, his angel. Hearing her voice had been a jolt. Seeing her standing there in all her glory had made him feel as if Christmas had come early this year.

Oh, yeah, he wanted to get to know her better. He thought she might want the same thing. Her blue eyes had sparkled with interest when she’d looked at him, so even though she’d thrown up roadblocks, he would persevere. That flash of sexual attraction had been decidedly mutual.

He understood why she’d be wary of getting involved with a resort guest, but he’d only be in that category for a few days. If he laid the groundwork now, he could build on it later, when he was no longer a guest.

Something had clicked for him the moment he’d rounded that corner in the gift shop and laid eyes on her. She might think coincidence had made her drive past where he’d swerved off the road, but now that they’d met, he wouldn’t call it coincidence. He’d call it destiny.

After dinner, he and Watkins checked out the wedding ceremony venue, a large space with exposed beams and warm wood paneling. In daylight, when the ceremony would take place, the curtained windows would look out on pines and ski slopes. The candlelit reception in the evening was scheduled for the adjoining ballroom. Trey and Watkins would play then, too.

“It’ll be real nice,” Watkins said, looking around the room where the wedding would take place. “The acoustics should be decent, too. I’m glad they carpeted the floor.”

“Did you want to practice tonight?”

“Nah, let’s not.” Watkins smoothed his handlebar mustache. “There’s a country-and-western band playing in the bar, and Mary Lou wants to dance. She doesn’t get to do that whenever I’m playing, so this will be a treat for both of us. She’s probably already in the bar ready to boot scoot.”

“Before you go, I wanted to tell you something.”

Watkins, who was a good six inches shorter than Trey and at least fifty pounds heavier, glanced up at him. “What’s that, son?”

Trey liked that Watkins called him “son.” Trey’s folks were both gone, his mom from cancer and his dad in an oil rig accident. Although Trey had come to grips with not having living parents, he reveled in the family atmosphere of the Last Chance and appreciated how Watkins and Mary Lou had taken him under their wing.

“I’ve found her,” he said. “My angel. She works at the resort.”

“No kidding!”

“She’s one of the ski instructors, and her name is Elle Masterson.”

“Well, I’ll be.” Watkins stroked his mustache again. “What’s she like?”

“Perfect.”

“Hold on there, cowboy. No woman’s perfect. You know how I feel about Lou-Lou, but I’d be the first to admit she’s not perfect. Don’t go setting some lady on a pedestal. You’ll regret it.”

“You’re right.” Privately, Trey didn’t think so. “But Elle is darned close. And she likes me. I can tell she does.”

“Then why didn’t she identify herself when she hauled your ass to the hospital? Something’s not adding up here.”

“I know, and I mean to get to the bottom of that. But the main issue is her principles. She doesn’t believe resort employees should get involved with resort guests.”

Watkins nodded. “She must be a sensible woman, then. You can’t have that kind of thing in a fancy establishment like this. You need to respect her wishes on that.”

“I will. And I do. But don’t you think this is a special case? She saved my life. And she likes me. I hate to waste time on rules and regulations in this situation.”

Watkins smiled. “You’re talking about four days, right?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“It’s not a long time, son. I know at your age it seems forever, but trust me, those four days will go by fast.”

“I suppose.” Once again, Trey didn’t agree with Watkins. After eight months of searching for his mystery woman, he’d finally found her, and she was wonderful. He was eager to explore the possibilities, and they’d both be staying under the same roof, so to speak. He couldn’t imagine how time spent that way would go by fast.

“You don’t believe me.” Watkins clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s okay. But don’t go back to your room and stare at the ceiling all night. Get your guitar and come down for a drink. I know these guys who are playing, and they’d probably let you sit in on a set or two. It’ll be good practice.”

“Sure, why not?” Given that his hands were tied when it came to Elle, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend the evening.

* * *

A
FTER
A
QUICK
supper in the employees’ dining room, Elle climbed the stairs to her room on the second floor of the staff’s quarters. A printout of the next day’s schedule had been left on her desk, and she picked it up. No big surprise, Trey had registered for her group lesson first thing in the morning.

She was one of three ski instructors employed by Serenity, but Annalise had been given the weekend off because these guests wouldn’t need advanced lessons. Elle and her colleague Jared could handle the Last Chance group, who were mostly all beginners.

Switching Trey to Jared’s group would make an issue out of the situation, so she’d leave the schedule as it was. But she had to smile when she noticed that Jared had all women except for a guy named Watkins, and she had all men.

Besides Trey, Elle would be working with Alex Keller, Nash Bledsoe, Jeb Branford and two of the Chance brothers, Gabe and Nick. Elle hadn’t met any of them, although she certainly recognized the names of the Chance boys. There was a third brother, Jack, but apparently he wasn’t into skiing lessons.

All the men except Alex Keller had checked the beginner box on the sign-up sheet. Alex had checked the box indicating he had some experience, which meant he might be willing to help the others. All in all, it should be a fun morning. She loved taking nonskiers and turning them into enthusiastic fans of the sport.

As she considered whether to hit the sack early to be ready for tomorrow’s activities, her cell phone chimed. For some reason, Amy, the bartender on duty tonight, was calling her. Elle picked up her phone. “Hey, Amy.”

“Unless you’re in your jammies already, you should get yourself down here.”

“I was almost in my jammies. What’s happening?”

“One of the guys from the Last Chance is performing with the band and he is
hot.
I know you’re a country fan. Come down and I’ll put you to work behind the bar so you’ll have an excuse to hang around.”

Elle had become enamored of country music in the past year, and hearing it live was always a treat. Besides, she didn’t feel tired enough to go to bed yet. “Thanks, I’ll be right there.” Disconnecting the phone, she ran a comb through her hair, reapplied her lipstick, popped a mint and grabbed her room key. She’d helped Amy behind the bar a few times before, and she liked the job.

On her way downstairs, she breathed in the scent of Christmas. Serenity went all-out this time of year, and she liked spending the holidays here. Each guest room door had its own fresh wreath, complete with a couple of cinnamon sticks tucked into a big red bow.

Staff members didn’t get wreaths, but they were all given small trees to decorate. Hers was sitting in a corner of her room, waiting for her to get busy with lights and ornaments. Until she did, she could enjoy the fifteen-foot blue spruce in the lobby, which sparkled with lights and elegant glass balls. Pine boughs, pinecones and festive ribbons decorated the check-in desk.

The bar opened off the lobby, so the music drifted toward her as she walked past the Christmas tree toward the heavy double doors inset with stained glass. Someone was singing in a husky baritone that tickled her nerve endings.

“Going in to hear our new star?” called Ralph from the front desk.

“Yeah, I’m told he’s pretty good. Amy is letting me help behind the bar.”

Ralph laughed. “Have fun. The women tell me he looks pretty good, too.”

“I’m just here for the music, Ralph.”

“That’s what they all say.”

As Elle grasped the brass handle and opened the door, she had a premonition about who this sexy country singer might be, but she discounted it. The universe wouldn’t be so generous as to give the bodacious Trey Wheeler a great singing voice, too.

Obviously the universe was exactly that generous. Sitting on a stool in front of the mike, strumming his guitar and crooning a solo love song, was the man she was determined to avoid, the man every woman in the room was fixated on. The rest of the band was silent, not that they would have been noticed if they had decided to play backup.

Trey’s face was shielded by the lowered brim of his hat, and he seemed completely absorbed in his music. He cradled the guitar in his lap. One booted foot rested on the floor and the other was propped on a rung of the stool. His supple fingers moved up and down the guitar’s polished neck in a sensuous dance as his voice flowed over her, intimate as a caress.

Lost in a daze of feminine appreciation, she stood motionless in the doorway. The atmosphere in the room was electric. Nobody laughed. No glasses clinked. Trey had them all in the palm of his hand.

Then he looked up, as if he’d sensed her come in, and he gazed straight into her eyes.

Her breath caught. He was no longer singing to some unidentified lover. He was singing to her. The passionate lyrics spilled from his lips with such longing that she took a step closer. His slow smile told her he’d noticed, and she halted, embarrassed by how he’d hypnotized her.

Mercifully, the song ended before Elle lost all sense of propriety. After the raucous applause died down, Trey stepped back and the band launched into a lively swing tune. Another guitarist moved up to the mike to belt out the lyrics, and Elle hurried over to the bar.

Amy, who wore her dark hair piled on top of her head, grinned at her. “Told you.”

“Yes, ma’am, you did.” Elle lifted the hinged part of the bar and scooted inside. “The thing is, I kind of know him already.”

“You
do?
Then you get dibs. But if you don’t want him, then— Oh, crap. I see orders coming in. We’ll talk later.”

The next twenty minutes were a flurry of drink orders and washing glasses. But at the first lull, Amy brought up the subject immediately. “So how do you know him? Please tell me he’s an old family friend and you think of him like a brother.”

“I wish.” Elle told her about last spring’s incident involving Trey, and their chance meeting in the gift shop today.

“My God, that means he wrote that song about you! He introduced it by saying he’d been rescued by an angel. That totally explains why he focused on you for the last part of the song.”

“He wrote it about me?” Elle’s cheeks warmed. “That’s sort of...”

“Romantic. It’s romantic, Elle. Seems like you hooked him good by going all mystery woman on him for eight months. I envy the hell out of you. He’s mighty fine.”

“I wasn’t trying to hook him.”

“You did, anyway. Don’t look now, but he’s coming over here and he looks determined.”

Elle turned, and sure enough, Trey was striding toward the bar carrying his guitar case. Her breath hitched. “Maybe he wants a drink.”

“I think he wants you,
chica.

Elle had to admit Amy was probably right. The heat in Trey’s eyes was unmistakable.

He set down his guitar case and leaned on the bar. “I didn’t know you’d be here, Elle.”

“Amy needed some help.”

Amy glanced away, but was unsuccessful at muffling a snort of laughter.

“Hmm.” He didn’t appear to be buying that. “I’m glad you did, especially because I happened to be singing your song.”

“I...I didn’t realize you were a musician.” Her resistance to this gorgeous man was fading fast. No one had ever written a song about her. She liked to think she wasn’t susceptible to such romantic gestures, but the butterflies in her stomach signaled otherwise.

“Could we go somewhere and talk?”

“You’re not going to play anymore?”

He shook his head. “That’s enough for tonight.”

“Amy might need me to stay.”

“Nope,” Amy said. “Thanks for the help, but I can handle it.”

Elle took a deep breath. “Okay, then. We can go out in the lobby. There are some comfy chairs in front of the fire.”

He seemed about to comment on that suggestion, but then he didn’t. “All right. Lead the way.” But the minute they were out the door, he put a hand on her arm. “I’d rather go somewhere more private than the lobby.”

She turned and looked into his eyes. That was a big mistake. The intensity reflected there, combined with the lingering effects of his song, tempted her beyond reason. She shouldn’t surrender to his magnetism, but resisting it was proving difficult.

He lowered his voice. “My room?”

She shook her head. “Sorry.”

His gaze sharpened. “Then tell me where I can find you.”

Dear God, she was considering the possibility of inviting him to
her
room. She shouldn’t do that. She really shouldn’t. But if they were alone, she could explain why she didn’t want to get involved with him. She could mention his ravings about Cassie.

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