“It’s Ash.”
“Pardon?”
“My name is Ash.”
“Oh.”
“And you are?”
“Umm…. James.” Oh, God help me, I sound like a moron.
“Well, nice to meet you, James.”
“Umm…. Yeah.” Damn it! Where were the words? He loved words. That’s why he owned a bookstore and had a university degree in English literature. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Nothing.
The young man’s mouth, Ash’s mouth, slowly curved upward into a smile before he turned and walked up the hill toward James’s wayward skis.
He couldn’t help it. His eyes zeroed in on the tight ski pants. Nice.
No, stop that! Not. For. You. He wrenched his gaze away. Mustn’t forget there was a very good reason for his self-imposed ban on younger men. A very good reason. That was one line he was not about to cross. And even if he wasn’t so young, and even if he did happen to be gay, the guy probably thought he was a pathetic, uncoordinated loser.
As he bent down toward one of his ski poles, his back muscles gripped and tensed, shifting into spasm overdrive. He snatched up the ski pole and leaned on it like a walking stick. Damn it! An old , pathetic, uncoordinated loser.
Limping a little, he retrieved the other ski pole and turned to the white powdered ski slope stretched before him.
…ten, twelve, fourteen, sixteen….
He sighed. Too many people. No doubt, they would all be sitting by the fireside later talking about him, using the words “out-of-control” and “lunatic.” What a disaster! Considering he had never been very coordinated, trying to ski for the first time at the age of forty-two was perhaps not his brightest idea.
And he definitely should have gone to the beginner slope.
The soft ringing of a bell carried on the mountain breeze as a group of small children skied steadily toward him. Maybe if he had learned to ski at their age, the day would have turned out better.
They followed the bell ringer down the slope in a smooth snake-like formation. Yellow fluorescent bibs covered their small chests. There was something printed on them. He squinted and focused on the words “BLIND SKIER.”
He groaned. Of course. Great! Nothing like blind six-year-olds on skis to make you feel better about crashing and landing in a broken heap.
The crunch of snow beneath ski boots announced Ash’s return. “There you go.” Ash placed the skis at his feet.
“Thanks. It probably would have taken me half an hour to do that.”
Ash smiled. “No problem.”
Brown eyes. No, not brown. More like a nice shade of… “Caramel.”
Shit! Did I say that out loud?
“What?”
“Pardon?”
“Did you say something?”
“Ahh… no.”
Ash tipped his head, and his eyebrows drew down.
Probably trying to make sense of why you said caramel—you idiot!
“So, James. Where are you staying?”
“Bright Cabin.”
“Oh yeah, I know it. It’s a really pretty cabin. Well, it’s in the opposite direction to my place, but I’ll walk with you down the slope and up to the road. Unless you want to have another try and ski down the rest of the way?”
James laughed. “No. No, I think I’ve had enough for one day.”
The skis lay at his feet. Now, how to pick them up without revealing how much pain he was in…. With a push of his ski pole, he turned one of his skis.
“No! Don’t do that!”
The ski slid down the slope.
Of course. Great! Any fool would know that was why Ash had placed them across the slope and not pointing downward.
The ski gained momentum, rocketing toward a group of people farther down the slope. Like synchronized swimmers in an old Hollywood movie, people dove to the left and right to save themselves. Alerted by the cries of warning, a young boy at the bottom of the slope jumped out of the way just in time. The ski hurtled onward, eventually smashing into a stone wall outside the ski slope area.
The breath left his lungs with a loud whoosh .
Ash smiled. “Well…. No harm done.”
He really must
“Pardon?”
“My name is Ash.”
“Oh.”
“And you are?”
“Umm…. James.” Oh, God help me, I sound like a moron.
“Well, nice to meet you, James.”
“Umm…. Yeah.” Damn it! Where were the words? He loved words. That’s why he owned a bookstore and had a university degree in English literature. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Nothing.
The young man’s mouth, Ash’s mouth, slowly curved upward into a smile before he turned and walked up the hill toward James’s wayward skis.
He couldn’t help it. His eyes zeroed in on the tight ski pants. Nice.
No, stop that! Not. For. You. He wrenched his gaze away. Mustn’t forget there was a very good reason for his self-imposed ban on younger men. A very good reason. That was one line he was not about to cross. And even if he wasn’t so young, and even if he did happen to be gay, the guy probably thought he was a pathetic, uncoordinated loser.
As he bent down toward one of his ski poles, his back muscles gripped and tensed, shifting into spasm overdrive. He snatched up the ski pole and leaned on it like a walking stick. Damn it! An old , pathetic, uncoordinated loser.
Limping a little, he retrieved the other ski pole and turned to the white powdered ski slope stretched before him.
…ten, twelve, fourteen, sixteen….
He sighed. Too many people. No doubt, they would all be sitting by the fireside later talking about him, using the words “out-of-control” and “lunatic.” What a disaster! Considering he had never been very coordinated, trying to ski for the first time at the age of forty-two was perhaps not his brightest idea.
And he definitely should have gone to the beginner slope.
The soft ringing of a bell carried on the mountain breeze as a group of small children skied steadily toward him. Maybe if he had learned to ski at their age, the day would have turned out better.
They followed the bell ringer down the slope in a smooth snake-like formation. Yellow fluorescent bibs covered their small chests. There was something printed on them. He squinted and focused on the words “BLIND SKIER.”
He groaned. Of course. Great! Nothing like blind six-year-olds on skis to make you feel better about crashing and landing in a broken heap.
The crunch of snow beneath ski boots announced Ash’s return. “There you go.” Ash placed the skis at his feet.
“Thanks. It probably would have taken me half an hour to do that.”
Ash smiled. “No problem.”
Brown eyes. No, not brown. More like a nice shade of… “Caramel.”
Shit! Did I say that out loud?
“What?”
“Pardon?”
“Did you say something?”
“Ahh… no.”
Ash tipped his head, and his eyebrows drew down.
Probably trying to make sense of why you said caramel—you idiot!
“So, James. Where are you staying?”
“Bright Cabin.”
“Oh yeah, I know it. It’s a really pretty cabin. Well, it’s in the opposite direction to my place, but I’ll walk with you down the slope and up to the road. Unless you want to have another try and ski down the rest of the way?”
James laughed. “No. No, I think I’ve had enough for one day.”
The skis lay at his feet. Now, how to pick them up without revealing how much pain he was in…. With a push of his ski pole, he turned one of his skis.
“No! Don’t do that!”
The ski slid down the slope.
Of course. Great! Any fool would know that was why Ash had placed them across the slope and not pointing downward.
The ski gained momentum, rocketing toward a group of people farther down the slope. Like synchronized swimmers in an old Hollywood movie, people dove to the left and right to save themselves. Alerted by the cries of warning, a young boy at the bottom of the slope jumped out of the way just in time. The ski hurtled onward, eventually smashing into a stone wall outside the ski slope area.
The breath left his lungs with a loud whoosh .
Ash smiled. “Well…. No harm done.”
He really must
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