Snow Job by Delphine Dryden

end again, that drama thing?”
    Alice smirked, demonstrating clearly from which parent Karl had inherited the look. “I’l let you know.”
    “Ha, ha.”
    It had been agreed that there would be a couple different “shifts” driving to the ski slopes at Breckenridge that morning. Elyce risked a glare at Karl but said nothing as he volunteered them for the first group. Karl had always been an early riser, and she’d had to overcome some resentment when they first lived together at his ability to come ful y awake before the alarm even went off and jump directly out of bed, while she was stil yawning and grappling for the snooze button.
    Things had smoothed over considerably once Karl had learned not to attempt meaningful conversation until after Elyce had at least one cup of coffee and something to eat.
    She remembered that adjustment period clearly, but now it was as if the shift had never taken place. Months of rising alone, with no competition for coffee and no need to speak to anyone until arriving at work, had spoiled Elyce and returned her to her old habits of morning grumpiness. But if she were to make a good effort at the appearance of stil being happily married to Karl, she knew, she would just have to fake it.
    Which meant going along, as cheerful y as possible under the circumstances, with leaving for the slopes at what her body insisted was stil an ungodly hour.
    * * * * *
    It turned out to be worth it. They arrived just as the lifts were starting to run and although there was already a crowd at the lift lines to ascend Peak Nine, it was clearly not as bad as it would be later in the day. Scott, Emily, Wil and Kel y made up the rest of the first group—an inconvenient number, as the lift they would be taking for the first leg of their trip up the mountain sat only four at a time.
    Elyce figured out Karl’s plan only once it was too late to protest or work her way into the first group. He pul ed her back, fussing with her ski binding so that the other four could precede them in line. Another few skiers had entered the lengthening queue before Karl had satisfied himself that the binding was indeed safely repaired. The numbers worked out such that the first four took a chair together, and Karl and Elyce were stuck sharing a chair several turns later with two strangers.
    He wasted no time. Once they were headed smoothly up the mountain, feet and knees stretching and getting re-accustomed to the uneasy weight of their swinging boots and skis, Karl shifted one gloved hand to Elyce’s upper thigh as if daring her to push him away.
    She looked off to the side, to the gleaming morning view of the mountains in the quickening sunshine, and tried to ignore him.
    “So…last night.”
    She glanced automatical y at the strangers, who were discussing a trail map and seemed to take no notice.
    “Let’s not talk about that, please. We can’t undo it, so let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.”
    “Oh, I don’t think so.”
    His cool, self-assured smile infuriated Elyce, but the precarious perch on the lift gave no opportunity for the wild swing at his nose she suddenly envisioned. “What?”
    “I’m not pretending anything, my love. It happened—and it’s gonna happen again tonight, rest assured.”
    Astonished at his effrontery, Elyce was stil chagrined to feel a prickle of anticipation. She shifted her legs and tried to ignore the sensation. “No, it is not.”
    Karl’s fingers, long and confident, wrapped themselves more securely around her leg, high enough to brush at the center seam of her stretchy ski pants. Leaning over, he pressed his lips to her ear, murmuring low enough that their oblivious companions couldn’t hear. In the tight confines of the lift, Elyce had nowhere to go, had to listen to what he said with no room for escape.
    “It is going to happen again . Because you wanted it as much as I did, and you want it again just as much as I do.
    You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. And you