Listen to Your Heart (5 page)

Morgan leveled a look at him. “Why do
you want to do this? Really?”

Chance swallowed and turned to face her.
“Because she sounds interesting. She sounds real, and that appeals to me.” He
lowered his voice. “Look around. These women are snow bunnies, and to be
perfectly honest, I’m tired of them.”

Morgan hadn’t expected such a heartfelt
answer. Her respect for Chance went up a notch or two. “The day we met, she
called me a stuck-up bitch.”

Chance swallowed. “An interesting
start.”

“I probably deserved it. Mom used to
make sure I had all the latest fashions, even when I was young.” Her eyes took
on a distant look. “And Dale was on the opposite end of the spectrum. I guess
that’s why we became such good friends. You know, opposites and all that.”

Chance was listening carefully. “She had
a tough upbringing, huh?”

Morgan gave her head a quick shake. “I
told you yesterday, it’s her story to tell. But to answer your question about
recognizing her, she’s almost as tall as you; she’s thin and athletic, and she
has short dark brown hair. You’ll recognize her by the chip on her shoulder.”

Chance froze, his burger halfway to his
mouth. “Still?”

She nodded. “Sometimes.” She laid a hand
on his arm. “Don’t expect too much, okay? And for goodness sake, don’t let on
we talked about her.” She went back to her soup, watching Chance out of the
corner of her eye. How had he managed to get her to divulge so much
information? Especially when she considered how closed up Dale was.

Because of that face
, she answered
herself.
He’s got such a nice, honest face. God, I hope he doesn’t break her
heart.

* * *

Dale stepped off the bus and stood aside
to stretch. It had been a long day, starting with Morgan’s mom driving her to the
airport. Eager to get going, she’d left Banff last night and stayed overnight
in her old room. Cynthia Dempsey had kept it much the same as when she and
Morgan shared it all those years ago.

At the airport, Morgan’s mom had
insisted on walking with her as far as security. Dale recalled her words. “Have
a good time,” she’d said, concern evident in her eyes. “I worry about you, you
know.”

“Yes.” Dale gave her a fierce, quick
hug. “I know. And I’ll try. I promise.”

“It’s just that...” Cynthia Dempsey had
stood there in the pale morning sunshine, eyes brimming with tears. “I love
you, Dale.”

“I know, Mom.” She’d given her a kiss on
the cheek, inhaling the familiar perfume. “I’ll be in touch.”

And with that, she’d turned, walked
through security and hadn’t looked back. She loved Morgan’s mother too much to
let her see the tears that threatened. Some day she’d get up the nerve to tell
her that she loved her, too. Someday.

Dale watched as the bags were unloaded
from the bus, placed onto a cart and wheeled to the baggage claim area. The
huge suitcase held everything she’d need for the next few months and her skis
were top of the line. She wasn’t about to lose sight of them now. The cart was
crammed with wrapped skis and boards. The young people who arrived in Whistler
by bus didn’t have fancy bags; they spent all their money on gear and lifts.

A group of youngsters hopped up on
excitement milled around the baggage claim area and she observed them
dispassionately. She’d never been like that when she was young. She’d been too
busy hating everyone and building walls that couldn’t be breached.

A tall man stood off to the side,
silhouetted against the brilliance of the sun. He seemed to be looking at her
and she stared at him, wishing he would move so she could get a better look at
his face. A cart came whizzing by and he stepped aside to avoid it. She could
see him clearly now; he was smiling in her direction. He had a dimple in his
right cheek and she had the oddest urge to get closer so she could gaze into
those dark brown eyes.

She took a quick look behind her to see
who he was meeting but there was no one. When she turned back, he was walking
toward her, smiling as though he knew her.

“I’ll bet you’re Dale.” He was a couple
of inches taller than her, and for a moment she couldn’t speak.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded finally. “Who are
you?”

“I’m Chance.” He smiled down at her and
she took a step backward. She could already feel her defenses crumbling, and
she couldn’t allow that to happen.

She smiled at him in spite of herself. “I’ll
bet you got a lot of mileage out of that name when you were in school.”

He placed a hand over his heart. “Oh, yeah.”
His smile didn’t waver. “But it worked the other way as well.” He tilted his
head. There are a lot of variations on ‘Not a Chance’ or ‘Last Chance’, or
“Take a Chance’.

Dale nodded. “I suppose so.” Dammit, but
he was appealing. “Did Morgan send you?”

He frowned. “Not exactly. I
volunteered.”

She gave him a puzzled look. “Why would
you do that?”

He lifted his shoulders in a casual
shrug. “It seemed like a neighbourly thing to do. Besides, I thought it would
be a great way to meet you.” He looked toward the baggage claim area. “Do you
see your stuff yet?”

She couldn’t believe that she’d taken
her eyes off her bags for so long. “Yes, there it is...that black one.” She
laughed. “What am I saying? They’re all black.” She pushed through the crowd
and reached for the handle.

His hand covered hers and for a moment
they looked into each other’s eyes. “I’ve got it,” he said softly and she
pulled away. Was her hand really tingling from his touch? She’d thought that
sort of thing only happened in romance novels...not that she ever read them.
Romance novels were nothing but fantasies, and she didn’t indulge in such
nonsense. Her skis came around and she yanked them off the conveyor belt with
more force than necessary.

He lifted the bag effortlessly and
motioned for her to follow him.

The sun was bright in the parking lot
and she looked around, shading her eyes with her free hand.

He watched her without appearing to do
so. “Did you come all the way from Calgary today?” He popped the back of an SUV
and placed her bag inside. “I’ll bet you’re tired.” He reached for her skis and
she surrendered them.

He was being far too solicitous and she
wasn’t sure she liked it. The men she knew would never have considered whether
or not she was tired. She probably knew the wrong type of man, but it was much
easier that way; there was no temptation to get involved.

Chance scurried around and opened the
passenger door.

She made a move to get in and then
stopped, one hand braced against the door frame. “I should warn you,” she said
evenly. “I’m not interested in men.”

He raised both eyebrows in mock
surprise.

“No, it’s not that.” She took a quick
breath. “Poor choice of words. I like men; I just don’t want to get involved
with one.”

“That’s good. Less competition for me.”
His gaze fell to her lips.

She tried to stare him down but it was
difficult when he was looking at her like that...as though he’d like to kiss
her. The trouble was, in spite of her words, the thought appealed to her...a
lot. She was in big trouble.

“So, are you going to get in?”

He was challenging her and she was
surprised to find she liked it. She got in and he passed her the seat belt.
“I’ve got it,” she said, somewhat breathlessly. If he tried to fasten it for
her he’d be much too close...definitely not a good idea.

“Right.” He slid into the driver’s seat,
secured his seat belt and placed both hands on the steering wheel. “Where to? I
was thinking we could drop your bags off and I could take you for a quick tour
of the area.”

“You make it sound like a date.” Now why
had she said that? It was too late to take the words back. She closed her eyes
and let her head fall back on the headrest. “Sorry. You’re right, I am tired.
Let’s start by dropping off my stuff.”

“You’ve got it.” Chance was silent on
the drive to the Lodge, which was located about half way to the Village. He
pulled up and she studied the building for a moment.

“How am I supposed to get in?” She was
angry with herself for not thinking ahead.

Chance waved a card. “Here. Morgan sent
her key card. She said yours is in your package at the hotel.” He got out and
started to unload her suitcase. “You really do look tired. Maybe we should have
our date some other time.”

She grabbed the skis and trudged behind
him to the front door. “I need a nap. One hour and I’ll be good to go.”

He looked at his watch. “Okay. How about
this? I’ll go back and tell Morgan you’ve arrived, check on my shop, and then
I’ll come back and get you for dinner tonight. Morgan mentioned something about
eating at the hotel.”

She was suddenly too tired to argue.
“Okay, what time?” She followed him into the elevator.

“I’ll be here at six, how’s that? Gives
you enough time to unpack a few things and have a power nap.” He led her down
the hall to her room and opened the door. “Here you are.” He handed her the
card. “See you later.”

Dale studied Chance as he walked away, wondering
what it was about this man that had attracted her. Because whether or not she
wanted to admit it, she
was
attracted to him. He was tall and lean, and
although she couldn’t see his body underneath his ski jacket, she sensed by the
way he moved that he was fit and muscular. His cheerful outlook was refreshing
in today’s world of brooding bad boys. She’d had enough of them to last a
lifetime. Frowning, she took one last look and ducked into the room before he
turned and saw her studying him. Warmth spread through her at the thought that
he’d be back to pick her up. Where had that come from? She’d been serious when
she’d told him that she wasn’t interested in getting involved with a man right
now...but somehow her heart hadn’t been listening.

“Dale Lewis,” she said aloud, heading
for the empty bedroom. “You’re here to work and to learn how a boutique hotel
runs, not to get involved.”

“Great start”
, said the voice
in her head.

“Maybe so, but I’m too tired to argue about
it,” she said aloud, setting the alarm on her iPhone. She yanked back the
duvet, crawled into bed and was asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Morgan had just finished checking in a
family when Chance strode into the lobby. Did he ever stop smiling? She was
beginning to wonder.

“You found her?” she asked eagerly.

“Sure did.” He jingled his keys. “She
seemed tired, so I left her to have a nap and I’m going to pick her up later
and bring her back for supper.”

“A nap?” Morgan wondered if she’d heard
him correctly.

“Yeah. She was up early. Poor kid looked
wiped out.” He moved closer to the desk. “I like her, Morgan, although you’re
right; she’s kinda prickly.”

Morgan glanced back toward the Manager’s
office. He’d been showing up at the desk all afternoon, startling her. “You
guys didn’t have a fight or anything?”

“No, we’re cool.” Chance glanced down
the hall and nodded his understanding. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

* * *

Dale was checking out the bookshelf in
the common area downstairs when Chance came back. He stopped to watch her as
she took down a book, opened it and started to read. Lost in the contents of
the book, her expression was soft and open. Not at all like the closed-off woman
he’d met this afternoon. He leaned up against a dividing wall, crossed his arms
and studied her. Her long legs were encased in tight fitting black pants, and
she wore a pair of calf-high leather boots. On top she wore an off-white crew
necked sweater and a soft leather bomber jacket in rich brown. He wondered if
she knew how attractive she was; somehow he doubted it.

She looked up, spotted him and for a
moment she looked happy to see him. But the expression faded as quickly as it
had come. She slid the book back onto the shelf and he noted the position,
intent on checking it out later.

“Hi,” she said coolly. “You came back.”

He pushed away from the wall. “I said I
would.” If she thought she was going to get rid of him by playing hardball, she
had another think coming. He’d grown up with two older sisters and survived.
“Shall we go?”

He pointed out various buildings as they
drove back into the Village, but she didn’t seem to be paying attention. She sat
sideways in the seat, studying him openly.

“What do you do?” she asked during a
lull in his narration.

“You mean work?”

She nodded.

“I’m the Manager of the Ski Shop right
next to the Zimmerli.”

“Do you like it?”

“Most of the time.” He shot her a quick
glance. “Generally speaking, the people who come here are in a good mood, but
there are always the unpleasant ones.”

“I know what you mean. You should have
seen how some of them treated the maids at the Lake. As if they’re sub-human or
something.”