Great. Thanks, Joe. I’ll be right over to pick them up.” She reseated the receiver and rose to her feet. How on earth had her nice, organized life grown so chaotic so fast? She felt as if everything were spinning out of control.
After letting the front desk know where she could be found, she stepped into the sport shop. It rented equipment and sold trail passes, ski clothing, and related accessories during the ski season, then rented boats and sold summer sportswear, including the lodge logowear, in the summer.
Joe was discussing a reservation for a water-ski party with two guests when she entered, so she straightened a stack of T-shirts and neatened the sunglasses rack while she waited. When she turned back from inspecting the display window, he caught her eye and pointed to the folded shorts and shirt that sat at the end of the counter. She walked over to pick them up, initialed the slip that he slid over to her without interrupting his conversation with the guests, and headed for the door.
She nearly ran smack into J.D. For some reason it irritated her to see him pull back from the imminent contact as briskly as she did.
“Sally said I’d find you over here.”
“Yes. I was getting you this.” She thrust out the garments. His hand was a shock of warm, rough skin as it slid across hers to take the clothing. She cleared her throat. “You can change in the men’s rest lounge if youwant.” She indicated the wide hallway across the lobby. “It’s across from the game room on the other side of the elevator. I’ll meet you at the front desk when you’re ready.”
Five minutes later Dru saw him striding up the hall toward the lobby, and she stared. She’d seen him only in jeans and white T-shirts, and he looked almost dressed up in the crisp cargo shorts and polo shirt. The fresh-off-the-rack whiteness of the shirt made his arms and throat appear particularly bronzed, but his legs were only lightly tanned, probably from his working in jeans all the time. They were muscular and hairy, though, and she was hard-pressed to pull her gaze away.
But somehow it was his socks, not the stunning fitness of his body, that really got to her. They were dingy, which was exacerbated by the brand-new brilliance of his tennis shoes, and there was just something sort of…lonely about them. She could picture him in a laundromat all by himself, stuffing everything willy-nilly into one load. It really brought home the fact that he’d been raised pretty much on his own, kicked from place to place. A warm kernel of tenderness unfurled inside her, and stretched toward him like a blossom to the sun.
Dru came to abruptly. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no . He wasn’t a motherless child, and hadn’t been for a long time. He was a fully grown man who was long on opinions and short on charm, and she wasn’t about to offer to wash his socks for him. Good God—what was the matter with her?
He walked up to her. “Everything fits. You have a good eye.”
She eyed the slight gap at his waist. “The shorts look a little big.”
“They’re fine. My waist is a thirty-three, but it’s a difficult size to find, so I usually buy thirty-fours and have a little extra breathing room.” He shrugged. “No biggie.”
“Fine. Now, about your socks—”
He looked down in surprise, then shocked her by flashing a crooked grin. “Sorry about that. This pair somehow got in with a load of jeans. I usually wear them for work. Want me to go get a pair that are actually white?”
Okay, that proves it, Drucilla Jean—you’re an idiot.
She couldn’t make herself smile back. “They should be fine for one day. You’ll be behind the desk.”
God, she couldn’t believe she’d had that come-and-let-me-mother-you moment. If she’d thought about it for a few lousy seconds instead of reacting with sappy emotionalism, she would have remembered that his T-shirts were always dazzlingly white.
Well, fine. She became all business. “You’re all set,
After letting the front desk know where she could be found, she stepped into the sport shop. It rented equipment and sold trail passes, ski clothing, and related accessories during the ski season, then rented boats and sold summer sportswear, including the lodge logowear, in the summer.
Joe was discussing a reservation for a water-ski party with two guests when she entered, so she straightened a stack of T-shirts and neatened the sunglasses rack while she waited. When she turned back from inspecting the display window, he caught her eye and pointed to the folded shorts and shirt that sat at the end of the counter. She walked over to pick them up, initialed the slip that he slid over to her without interrupting his conversation with the guests, and headed for the door.
She nearly ran smack into J.D. For some reason it irritated her to see him pull back from the imminent contact as briskly as she did.
“Sally said I’d find you over here.”
“Yes. I was getting you this.” She thrust out the garments. His hand was a shock of warm, rough skin as it slid across hers to take the clothing. She cleared her throat. “You can change in the men’s rest lounge if youwant.” She indicated the wide hallway across the lobby. “It’s across from the game room on the other side of the elevator. I’ll meet you at the front desk when you’re ready.”
Five minutes later Dru saw him striding up the hall toward the lobby, and she stared. She’d seen him only in jeans and white T-shirts, and he looked almost dressed up in the crisp cargo shorts and polo shirt. The fresh-off-the-rack whiteness of the shirt made his arms and throat appear particularly bronzed, but his legs were only lightly tanned, probably from his working in jeans all the time. They were muscular and hairy, though, and she was hard-pressed to pull her gaze away.
But somehow it was his socks, not the stunning fitness of his body, that really got to her. They were dingy, which was exacerbated by the brand-new brilliance of his tennis shoes, and there was just something sort of…lonely about them. She could picture him in a laundromat all by himself, stuffing everything willy-nilly into one load. It really brought home the fact that he’d been raised pretty much on his own, kicked from place to place. A warm kernel of tenderness unfurled inside her, and stretched toward him like a blossom to the sun.
Dru came to abruptly. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no . He wasn’t a motherless child, and hadn’t been for a long time. He was a fully grown man who was long on opinions and short on charm, and she wasn’t about to offer to wash his socks for him. Good God—what was the matter with her?
He walked up to her. “Everything fits. You have a good eye.”
She eyed the slight gap at his waist. “The shorts look a little big.”
“They’re fine. My waist is a thirty-three, but it’s a difficult size to find, so I usually buy thirty-fours and have a little extra breathing room.” He shrugged. “No biggie.”
“Fine. Now, about your socks—”
He looked down in surprise, then shocked her by flashing a crooked grin. “Sorry about that. This pair somehow got in with a load of jeans. I usually wear them for work. Want me to go get a pair that are actually white?”
Okay, that proves it, Drucilla Jean—you’re an idiot.
She couldn’t make herself smile back. “They should be fine for one day. You’ll be behind the desk.”
God, she couldn’t believe she’d had that come-and-let-me-mother-you moment. If she’d thought about it for a few lousy seconds instead of reacting with sappy emotionalism, she would have remembered that his T-shirts were always dazzlingly white.
Well, fine. She became all business. “You’re all set,
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