Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Hey, Mom!” Sutton waved with mitten-covered hands. She’d gone with neon pink this year, and I knew it would only be a matter of weeks until I had to replace them. She’d needed new boots, new skis, and all new winter gear this year, too, after this summer’s growth spurt, but the smile on her face was worth the hit to the bank account.
Weston’s smile vanished as he looked at Reed and then he turned toward me. “Figured you might want a ride home, and I found this one loitering.”
“I wasn’t loitering!” Sutton laughed. “I put my hot chocolate cup in the trash!”
“Loitering, not littering,” Weston told her with a shake of his head. “It’s when you stand around plotting shenanigans.”
“How was your first day back on the slopes, Sutton?” Reed asked.
“It was great! I got some runs in with Max early in the day. He’s never skied here before, so I showed him all the best paths. He’s solid on the groomed trails but needs a little work in the trees.” Her nose scrunched.
“Nothing like keeping it honest,” Weston muttered, a smirk lifting the side of his mouth.
“And I got to Raven by ten to help with the beginners just like I promised,” she told me with a nod.
Raven needed exactly zero help with ski lessons but did me a solid by keeping an eye on Sutton when she could.
“How were today’s trips?” Reed asked.
“Went as scheduled,” Weston replied. His tone was brusque, professional, and completely different from the one he used with me. The difference was startling. “We brought the private party down and tucked her in for the night.” He glanced at me and gathered up Sutton’s poles and skis. “Ready to go home?”
Translation: I’m done with Reed.
“Let’s go.” I held my hand out for Sutton’s and she took it. “Thanks for checking on me, Reed.”
“I’m serious about the assistant,” he said, his brow knitting just under his hat. “And the invitation.”
I nodded and we hurried after Weston, who was walking like a man on a mission to put as much distance between him and his brother as possible.
“You ride the lift down?” Weston asked, slowing as we caught up to him.
“As opposed to taking a dog sled?” I replied as we made our way through the crowd of departing skiers. The traffic was going to be at a standstill getting down from the resort, since our guests were usually split pretty equally between vacationers staying at the lodge and day and season pass holders.
“As opposed to skiing.” He reached over Sutton and tucked us in close as a member of ski patrol drove by on a snowmobile. Then he switched places, crossing behind us so he was closest to the path.
It was such a small thing, and yet it made me want to kiss the crap out of him for the protective gesture. Then again, the guy could look at me and I’d want to kiss him. There was just something about his mouth that had me obsessed.
“Oh, Mom can’t ski,” Sutton announced as we made it to the parking lot.
“What?” Weston stopped on the blacktop, his eyebrows high above his sunglasses.
“I said Mom can’t ski,” Sutton repeated.
“Seriously?” Weston shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head.
“Seriously,” I answered, shrugging.
“You’ve lived at Madigan for eleven years and can’t ski?” His eyes widened.
“Nope!” Sutton answered for me. How she had so much energy after skiing all day was beyond me.
“What happened to your try everything once philosophy?” he asked, the gold flecks in his eyes sparkling as the afternoon sun hit them.
“Oh, I’ve tried it once,” I assured him. “And it was not for me.”
“She fell and rolled down the bunny bowl,” Sutton said in an exaggerated whisper.
“Sutton!” I sent her a look that clearly defined her a traitor.
“What? Raven told me.” She shrugged.
Weston laughed, his eyes crinkling as he shook his head at me. “You gave up after one fall?”
“It was an enormous fall,” I said defensively. “And you have no idea how many children I took out on the way down. I was a one-woman wrecking ball. They basically had to put up signs that said, ‘Danger, uncoordinated woman ahead.’”
He laughed again, and next to Sutton’s first cries, it was one of the best sounds I’d ever heard. “Let’s get you ladies home.”
I liked the sound of that way too much.
The next day, Sutton and I made it home in record time, bursting through the door at four fifteen. We had to hurry. They’d be here any minute.
Weston and I had driven separately this morning, which suited me just fine since he’d been out the door by six.
No, thank you.
My phone rang as I ushered Sutton into the shower. “Hey, Ava,” I said, closing the bathroom door behind me after scooping up Sutton’s discarded clothes. I tossed them into the hamper at the end of our small hallway.