Love on the Lifts (7 page)

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Authors: Rachel Hawthorne

BOOK: Love on the Lifts
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I
really tried not to think about Joe's comment on making a deposit in my good-time fund. I was supposed to be at a party enjoying myself, practicing my flirtation skills, getting Brad to notice me. But it seemed like I was spending most of my time trying not to think about Joe or something he'd said or done.

If I wasn't thinking about his hazel eyes, or his smile, or the rich timbre of his voice, I was thinking about the way he moved around the hot chocolate counter helping customers with that confident swagger, or the way he'd landed on top of me, or…

The way he was totally ignoring me now that we were at the lodge.

He'd slipped away almost as soon as we'd
arrived, getting lost in the crowd. Probably off to make moves on the girl he'd mentioned earlier. Of course, sooner or later, Joe would have to return to my side. After all, I'd promised to dance with him.

“Hey! You made it!” Paige gave me a hug. Her blonde hair was clipped on top of her head, tufts of it sticking out here and there. “Isn't this the best party?”

“Absolutely!”

The lodge was shadowy, with a fire in the massive fireplace providing most of the light. A few candles burned, a few lamps in corners were turned on, but mostly it was shadows.

“The bar's over there, so help yourself.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“We've got music playing.”

“Yeah, I can hear it.”

“And dancing over there.”

“You don't have to sell me on the party, Paige,” I said.

She laughed. “Once a sales clerk, always a sales clerk.” Her eyes brightened. “There's the hottie. I'll catch you later.”

I watched her head toward Joe, the wel
coming smile he gave her, then the way they sauntered over to the dance floor. I wasn't sure why I felt this sudden twinge of loss. It wasn't like she was wrapping herself around Brad.

Brad…I needed to find Allie and Leah, then put my plan into action to draw Brad away from Cynthia. Tonight
I
would be the magnet to his sliver of metal.

I wandered through the crowd. I knew most of the nontourists because I came here every winter break, so our paths often crossed. I'd served hot chocolate to many of the tourists. So there was a lot of greeting going on—hey, how are you, good to see you, great powder today—that kind of stuff. I tried not to get bogged down in conversation while I searched for my friends.

I spotted Allie first. She was talking with Sam who had one shoulder pressed to the wall in this am-I-hot-or-what-but-I'm-giving-you-some-time stance. I thought about going to her rescue, but then Sam shoved himself away from the wall, took her hand—took her
hand!
—and led her to the dance area. She really needed rescuing now. I'd seen Sam dance.

But like Leah had said, sometimes you needed to play with the frogs to catch a prince. So maybe that's what Allie was doing. Practicing with my brother so she'd be up for the ski instructors when she finally escaped Sam.

Speaking of ski instructors, that guy dancing with Leah had to be hers. Oh, my gosh. He was to die for! Tall and slender, he had blond hair that fell to his shoulders. He reminded me of models on the covers of romance novels. No wonder she'd pretended to be a klutz in order to have to take the class again. Wow! Good going, Leah!

At least one of us was seriously on our way to finding love on this trip.

I wended my way among the people who were laughing and talking, until I reached the table where all sorts of wintry comfort foods had been laid out. I scooped some clam chowder into a bowl.

“That looks good,” I heard Aunt Sue say from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder and smiled. “Want some?”

“Sure do.”

I handed her my bowl and filled another bowl for myself.

“Join me by the fire,” she said.

At that moment there wasn't anyone I'd rather be talking to—except maybe Brad, who had yet to make an appearance. Considering that Cynthia “loved parties,” I'd expected them to be there early.

I sat on a sofa beside Aunt Sue. It was toasty warm in front of the fireplace. I lifted a spoonful of chowder, blew on it to cool it down, then slurped. Really good.

“Having fun?” she asked.

“Having a great time,” I lied. “Got Sam to make a donation to the Kate-have-a-good-time fund earlier.”

“How did you manage that?” she asked.

“Fooled him into thinking I'd tell Dad he was drinking tonight.” I peered over at her. “Don't suppose you want to make a contribution?”

“Katie, you know my philosophy on money.”

“It can't buy happiness?”

“No. I work too hard for it to simply give it away.”

“Yeah, right.” Aunt Sue was always donating boxes of books to libraries and schools across the country, around the world. I knew because I'd helped her lug them to the post office too many times to count. She was always giving in other ways, too.

“What do you need to buy to have a good time?” she asked thoughtfully.

I shrugged. “I'm not sure, but I always like to be prepared.” I slurped some more soup.

“Well, when you have a definite goal in mind, let me know and I'll see what I can do.”

“I do have a goal. Have fun.”

“But you haven't figured out how to achieve that yet.”

“Sure I have.”

“No, you haven't. Or you wouldn't be sitting here with your old aunt.”

“You're not old.”

“Getting there.”

“So tell me about this guy you almost married.”

She laughed her boisterous laughter. “Ah, Katie, why don't you tell me about the guy you're trying to hook up with?”

“I don't think he's here.” I looked at her, searching her face for the truth. “Have you seen Brad or Cynthia?”

“So you haven't given up on him?”

“Should I?”

“You tell me.”

“You know, you make a lousy Dr. Phil.”

She laughed again. “Maybe because I believe we should always listen to our own hearts, and not other people's brains.”

“He'd be with me right now, if it wasn't for Cyn,” I mumbled. “I just know it.”

“Kate, you deserve a guy who'll be with you even if sin—and I'm spelling that S-I-N—is around.”

I couldn't help but smile. “I was thinking she should spell her name exactly like that.”

“Yeah, I heard you at the pizza place.”

“I think Joe did, too.” Then I remembered. “We're going to a movie tomorrow night. Did you want to go with us?”

“You don't need a third wheel on your date.”

“It's not a date. I asked him and he confirmed that it wasn't a date.”

Shaking her head, she gave me a look that
said she thought I was really out of it. “Katie, you don't ask a guy if it's a date.”

“Then how would I know?”

“You just know.”

“Just know? I'm starting to hate those two little words. Joe uses them all the time.” And here I was thinking about Joe again.

“I really like Joe. That was nice of him to help out this afternoon,” Aunt Sue said. “And speak of the devil.”

With a bright smile, Joe sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of us. I was pretty sure that he was here to make me pay the dance I owed him.

“How's the chowder?” he asked.

“Really tasty.” I tapped the bottom of the bowl with my spoon. “But it's all gone. I might have to get some more. Want some?”

“No, thanks.” He turned his attention to Sue. “How 'bout you, Sue?”

“No more for me.” She patted her stomach. “I'm watching my weight.”

“Great! Wanna dance?”

Aunt Sue laughed. “Are you sure I'm the one you want to ask?”

“Absolutely.”

With another laugh, Aunt Sue handed me her bowl, stood, and held out her hand. “Then let's go, Casanova.”

I watched them walk toward the dance area, and it occurred to me that was pretty much what I'd been doing all night: watching people walk to the dance area, watching people laugh, talk, dance.

I shifted around on the couch to get a better look at the dance floor, and there was Brad and Cynthia. I hadn't been aware that they'd arrived, but there was no missing them now. They were dancing so close and so provocatively that I thought they might get arrested for lewd behavior or something.

I turned back around, set the bowls on the table, and crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hold in the hurt. I had to let Brad go. Just had to.

If I wanted any chance at all of finding love while I was on winter break, I had to completely get over the guy.

A
Brad-ectomy.

That's what I needed.

Without anyone noticing, I left the party and trudged home. After changing into some thick fleece warm-ups, I grabbed the quilt off my bed, made myself a mug of hot chocolate, and curled up in a chair on the redwood deck, the quilt wrapped around me, both hands around the mug, with a mist of steaming chocolate tickling my face.

Our condo looked out over nothing and everything. No houses before me, only trees and hills that grew into mountains. I hadn't turned on any lights, and the houses on either side of me didn't have any on—Cynthia, I knew, was still at the party. Maybe the other neighbors
were as well. So it was really dark and quiet. The sky was black and vast, filled with a thousand stars. It was so peaceful and calm.

I breathed it all in: the warmth of chocolate, the scent of trees, the cold of snow. You wouldn't think snow would have a smell, but it does. A pristine crispness in the air.

I took deep breath after deep breath, centering my being, occasionally sipping on chocolate. I started mentally listing all the reasons that I wanted Brad to notice me. The reasons I wanted him for a boyfriend.

He was hot.

I tapped my fingernail against the porcelain mug.
Tap. Tap. Tap.

He had a killer smile.

He was nice.

Tap.

You don't know that for sure, Kate
, a little voice echoed in my head. I mean, really, what had he done that was nice?

He never talked to me, not really, not like Joe did. He didn't hang around Aunt Sue's bookstore or ask me to go with him to a movie or throw snow at me. He didn't dance with my aunt.

Course, he wasn't dancing with Cynthia, either. What they were doing on the dance floor could hardly be classified as dancing. They'd just been holding each other close like they were trying to keep warm.

Don't think about it, Kate,
I chastised myself.

Continuing with the Brad-ectomy, I focused on what I really and truly liked about him.

He was hot.

I tapped my mug, sipped my chocolate, tapped my mug.

There had to be something else. I couldn't be this bummed out over a guy not noticing me if he was nothing more than good looks. I wasn't that shallow. Or at least I didn't think I was.

I heard a noise on the stairs and nearly dropped my hot chocolate in my lap.

“Hey, it's just me.”

Joe. My breathing slowed, but my heart was still thudding.

“I was knocking on the front door—”

“Sorry, I didn't hear you.”

“Not a problem. I thought you were probably back here.”

He came up onto the deck and sat in the chair beside mine.

“Why'd you think that?” I asked.

“No reason.”

“You must have had a reason.”

He shrugged. “Just seemed like the type of place I'd go if I was hurting.”

“I'm not hurting,” I snapped.

“It's okay, Kate.”

“I'm not hurting,” I repeated, more irritated with him than imaginable. “I just did a Brad-ectomy, if you must know.”

He chuckled. “A what?”

“I exorcised him. I have no further interest in him whatsoever.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”
Let's move on to another subject
. “Aren't you cold just wearing a leather jacket?”

“You asked me that earlier.”

“So? I'm asking again. The later it gets, the colder it gets, so I thought maybe you're starting to get cold now.”

“Yeah, I'm starting to get there. Don't suppose you'd share the blanket.”

“Nope. I've got it all warm and cozy inside.
Besides, there's not room for the two of us in this chair.”

“You'd be surprised.”

“Joe, look, you're right. I came here because I wanted to be alone, to just think, so I'm not very good company right now. I don't want to share my blanket—”

“How 'bout your hot chocolate?”

The guy sounded pathetic. I thought I could actually hear his teeth starting to clatter, and I could definitely see his breath on the air. I rolled my eyes. “Sure.”

He took my mug and took a swallow. “Just what I needed.”

“You can go inside,” I told him. “Turn on the fire, watch TV. You don't have to keep me company.”

“I've got nothing else to do.”

We sat there in comfortable silence for several minutes. Then I peered over at him. “You know Aunt Sue is too old for you.”

He laughed, a deep rumble that echoed over the deck. “I don't think she'll ever be old. She has so much energy and so many great stories. I could talk to her all night.”

“So why didn't you?” I asked. Even though I really wasn't interested in him as boyfriend material, I think I still wanted him to say that he'd left because of me, because he'd noticed I was gone, because he wanted to be with me. Selfish I know, but there you have it.

“She got a little down after we were talking about Michael and left the party.”

I sat up straighter. “Michael? Who's Michael?”

“The guy she almost married.”

“She told you his name?”

He looked at me like I'd gone crazy. “Yeah. Why wouldn't she?”

“This morning was the first time I ever heard about him, and she wouldn't tell me anything.” Aunt Sue and I were going to have to have a serious sit-down. “Why did she tell you?”

He shrugged again. “Maybe she likes me.”

“Did she tell you why she didn't marry him?”

“No, but she did say that his picture's hanging somewhere in her store.”

I perked up a little more at that. “I'll break her down in the morning.”

“Are you going to work in the shop again?”

“No, but I'll go see her before I head to the slopes. Maybe I can convince her to show me then.”

“Maybe.”

But he said it like he didn't think I would.

“She was just being her old mysterious self today,” I told him. “She'll tell me everything tomorrow.”

“If you say so.” He stretched out his long legs. “The water in that hot tub sure looks inviting. Have you ever sat in it?”

“No, I'm only ever here in winter. It's too cold to use it then. I don't know why it's not drained. Can you imagine trying to get from the tub into the house while you're wet? You'd turn into a popsicle on the way.”

“Might be worth giving it a try. Can you imagine what it would feel like if everything was warm except for your head?”

“It would be weird.”

“You think?”

I heard a high-pitched laugh, followed by deeper laughter. Suddenly the lights from Cynthia's condo poured onto her back deck,
illuminating her and Brad as they stepped outside. She released an irritating squeal.

“Oh, it's cold!” she cried.

“Well, duh!” I muttered.

She was wearing a bathing suit. And Brad was…was he in his boxers?

She pranced across the deck, laughing all the way, until she slid into the hot tub. Brad followed her, raised up on his toes.

“Ah, man!” he yelled, just before he got in the tub.

More laughter, giggling, then silence as they started kissing.

“Don't look at them,” Joe ordered.

“It's a little hard not to, if I'm talking to you. They're right in my line of sight.”

“Then close your eyes.”

Instead I rolled them. “They don't bother me.”

“Good. Because I've been thinking about something for most of the night.”

I focused on his face, trying really hard not to see past him to where Brad and Cynthia were acting like kids. Yeah, that was it. Kids. Totally immature. Laughing, kissing…

“What were you thinking?” I asked.

“Thought I'd make a deposit into the Kate-have-a-good-time fund.”

I laughed lightly, appreciating that he was trying to make me feel better. “How much? Five? Ten?”

He shook his head. “Ah, Kate. Like I told you earlier, I'm strapped for cash. I'm talking trade.”

He put his hand on the back of my neck, and I had this crazy thought that his fingers should have felt like ice, but they didn't. They were warm.

He pulled me toward him as he leaned nearer, then his lips were on mine and I wasn't thinking at all.

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