Chapter One
This was the worst birthday ever. The crisp air bit into Kayla’s face, making her wish she’d taken the time to find her gloves and hat before she’d stormed out of her weasel ex’s cabin. She stumbled across the snow, her arms overflowing with her snowsuit, ski equipment and all of the junk she thought she would need for the weekend. She shifted her bag higher on her shoulder. What the hell had she been thinking packing all this crap anyway? It’s not as if she’d even planned on using most of it.
Bogged down with her load, she felt a ski sliding between her legs. She growled and tried to kick it out of her way only to have her boot slip out from under her on the icy snow. She slipped into a free fall, her arms flying out of their own volition, sending her skis in every direction before she landed on the ground with a thud.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the offending ski that lay resting against her right hand. She grabbed it from its spot on the ground and launched it into the air like a javelin. It sailed across the sky and landed at an awkward angle, sticking out of the ground. Kayla eyed the projectile and bit her cheek. Shit, that didn’t look good .
She pushed her palms against the icy snow to stand up. With deft hands, she gathered up her scattered belongings, slipped her overnight bag over her shoulder and her ski boots around her neck, leaving her hands free to carry her skis and poles. Slowly, she made her way over to her projectile ski. As she approached, she could see the big crack in the tip and she winced. So much for her ski weekend. Kayla ran her fingers through her hair. This was so not how she had imagined things would go this weekend.
Kayla glanced over her shoulder and eyed the cabin from which she came. There was no way she was going back there. Now she just needed to figure out where she was going. She scanned the open area of the ski village trying to get her bearings. When she finally located the Bullet Creek Cabins, she hoisted her skis higher and trudged through the snow. Outside cabin number four, she took a deep breath and knocked.
Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Fueled by nerves, she rocked back on her boot heels and waited. Moments later she heard the deadbolt turn. When the door opened, she sucked in her breath at the sight of Jesse Thomas standing in the open doorway wearing only a pair of jeans, the top button undone. A towel, clearly just used to wipe his wet hair, rested loosely in his hand.
“Hey Kayla,” he said and stepped a foot out the door to glance around. “Where’s Matt?”
“Umm, we, uh, broke up,” she stammered. Shuffling her feet, she looked down at the ground.
Jesse placed his finger under her chin and forced her head up. “You need a place to crash?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay. I mean, if I’m not imposing too much.”
When she tried to look back at the ground, he held her head high with his hand, forcing her to meet his stare. The kindness in his eyes was almost her undoing. Why couldn’t she date someone like him? Why did she always go for such losers? Oh yeah, because guys like Jesse didn’t date girls like her.
Jesse reached out and took her bag from her shoulder. A smile slid across his face. “It looks like you have some collateral damage,” he said, tilting his head toward her broken ski where it rested precariously against the cabin wall.
She snorted. “You could say that. I guess better my ski than Matt’s head.”
Jesse shrugged. “I don’t know. He always seemed like such a putz to me.” He stepped back and gestured inside. “Come on in, Tiger. Drop your stuff, we can move it later. Chris should be showered and ready pretty soon. Have you had dinner yet?”
She shook her head.
Jesse wrapped his arm around her and propelled her down the hallway. “All right then, let’s get you something to eat.”
She rested her head against his shoulder and laughed. “Of course, food and beer cures all.”
He
This was the worst birthday ever. The crisp air bit into Kayla’s face, making her wish she’d taken the time to find her gloves and hat before she’d stormed out of her weasel ex’s cabin. She stumbled across the snow, her arms overflowing with her snowsuit, ski equipment and all of the junk she thought she would need for the weekend. She shifted her bag higher on her shoulder. What the hell had she been thinking packing all this crap anyway? It’s not as if she’d even planned on using most of it.
Bogged down with her load, she felt a ski sliding between her legs. She growled and tried to kick it out of her way only to have her boot slip out from under her on the icy snow. She slipped into a free fall, her arms flying out of their own volition, sending her skis in every direction before she landed on the ground with a thud.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the offending ski that lay resting against her right hand. She grabbed it from its spot on the ground and launched it into the air like a javelin. It sailed across the sky and landed at an awkward angle, sticking out of the ground. Kayla eyed the projectile and bit her cheek. Shit, that didn’t look good .
She pushed her palms against the icy snow to stand up. With deft hands, she gathered up her scattered belongings, slipped her overnight bag over her shoulder and her ski boots around her neck, leaving her hands free to carry her skis and poles. Slowly, she made her way over to her projectile ski. As she approached, she could see the big crack in the tip and she winced. So much for her ski weekend. Kayla ran her fingers through her hair. This was so not how she had imagined things would go this weekend.
Kayla glanced over her shoulder and eyed the cabin from which she came. There was no way she was going back there. Now she just needed to figure out where she was going. She scanned the open area of the ski village trying to get her bearings. When she finally located the Bullet Creek Cabins, she hoisted her skis higher and trudged through the snow. Outside cabin number four, she took a deep breath and knocked.
Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Fueled by nerves, she rocked back on her boot heels and waited. Moments later she heard the deadbolt turn. When the door opened, she sucked in her breath at the sight of Jesse Thomas standing in the open doorway wearing only a pair of jeans, the top button undone. A towel, clearly just used to wipe his wet hair, rested loosely in his hand.
“Hey Kayla,” he said and stepped a foot out the door to glance around. “Where’s Matt?”
“Umm, we, uh, broke up,” she stammered. Shuffling her feet, she looked down at the ground.
Jesse placed his finger under her chin and forced her head up. “You need a place to crash?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay. I mean, if I’m not imposing too much.”
When she tried to look back at the ground, he held her head high with his hand, forcing her to meet his stare. The kindness in his eyes was almost her undoing. Why couldn’t she date someone like him? Why did she always go for such losers? Oh yeah, because guys like Jesse didn’t date girls like her.
Jesse reached out and took her bag from her shoulder. A smile slid across his face. “It looks like you have some collateral damage,” he said, tilting his head toward her broken ski where it rested precariously against the cabin wall.
She snorted. “You could say that. I guess better my ski than Matt’s head.”
Jesse shrugged. “I don’t know. He always seemed like such a putz to me.” He stepped back and gestured inside. “Come on in, Tiger. Drop your stuff, we can move it later. Chris should be showered and ready pretty soon. Have you had dinner yet?”
She shook her head.
Jesse wrapped his arm around her and propelled her down the hallway. “All right then, let’s get you something to eat.”
She rested her head against his shoulder and laughed. “Of course, food and beer cures all.”
He
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