there, the trees behind him, their limbs heavy with snow. The small sled in one hand and the most serious look she’d ever seen in Carter Shaw’s blue-gray eyes.
He knew.
She hated that he was witnessing this moment of horrible weakness.
He didn’t say anything, just continued to watch her. Inside her fear a small bubble of rebellion formed. Carter was the last person on earth she wanted to witness this meltdown.
“Great...I’m glad you have that sled. I was going to give it a try without one but thought I’d wait for you.”
“You don’t have to do this,” he told her. “Baby steps are the way forward.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about. This little mound is nothing,” she said airily.
God, please let me get off this damned mound, and quickly.
“Okay.” He pointed into the distance. “See that drift over there?”
She glanced all the way across the clearing to the large drift that had been reinforced probably by the same people who’d built this mound. That had to be where the sled would stop. It seemed huge. Farther than anything she’d gone down before.
But she knew that was fear talking.
“Great.”
“Great?” he repeated. “I know it’s not great, gorgeous.”
She knew it, too. But she wasn’t about to let him once again see her weak and vulnerable. Man, was that what this was all about? Was that why she couldn’t ski? Vulnerability?
Whatever it was, she was going to have to sled down this mound to prove a point to herself—and to Carter. She’d expected him to hand her the sled, but this was Carter, so instead he climbed up next to her.
“Not so bad from up here,” he said. “Reminds me of the first time I stood at the mouth of the half-pipe.”
“Is this really how high it is?”
“Nah, it’s a bit higher, but I was strung out on nerves waiting to take my first run. Excited, scared and so full of ideas of how I wanted it to go I couldn’t stand it.”
Her hands were shaking, and she wove them together to keep Carter from seeing, but he put one of his big hands over hers. Held them for a minute, and she looked up to see his face close to hers. So close she could see the flecks of silver in his blue-gray eyes and notice how thick his eyelashes were.
He had incredible eyes.
She wanted to do something crazy, like kiss him.
If
she kissed him, then passion could sweep them away and she wouldn’t have to go down the mound. Hell, she’d strip down naked in the cold with the wind blowing the snow from the tree branches if it meant she didn’t have to go down this small mound of snow.
Realizing that made tears burn at the back of her eyes. Dammit. If she couldn’t sled down this freakin’ mound, how was she ever going to ski again?
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know,” he whispered back. He lifted his free hand and cupped the side of her face. “But you are the bravest woman I’ve ever met.”
“Liar.”
“I wish. I know that no matter what, you will conquer this mound and then get back on the expert slope. I believe that with every fiber of my being.”
His eyes burned into hers, and she could feel the sheer force of his will radiate through her.
But how could he have such unwavering faith in her when she was riddled with so many doubts and fears? She appreciated what he was trying to do here, but a part of her—a huge part—wasn’t sure it could really come true.
“I—”
“No, don’t say anything else. Just sit your sweet ass on this sled and take the run you’ve been thinking about.”
The run she’d been thinking about was down the Wasatch Back Range, but she had to do this to get there. His strength was there all around her. His breath was warm against her cheek. His hands, which held her so solidly, reminded her that he was virile and strong.
She leaned up and pressed her mouth to his. Angled her lips over his and thrust her tongue into his mouth. Surprised, he opened his mouth, and in her mind she pretended she could
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