Burn on the Western Slope (Crimson Romance) (13 page)

“And don’t close your eyes,” Garret continued. “You need to know where you’re going.”

Sure her heart had fled, safely ensconced back in her condo and hiding under the covers — exactly where she’d like to be right now — she opened her eyes and looked at Garret.

“You’ll do fine. Put on your goggles. It’s time.”

Pushing away from the ramp, she lost her balance and fell. Garret managed to lift her out of the way before she could think, and she was upright again, moving slowly on a flat ground.

“I’ll be right behind you. Now go.”

She went. She couldn’t have him irritated with her and after today, he’d probably never speak to her again. He’d avoid her, at the very least, as he had the past week.

Refusing to let her lack of grace affect her, she let out a whoop as she kept her weight on her right foot and managed a left turn. Kids in helmets tucked into a racing position flew past her, straight down the hill. Laughter bubbled in her chest as she managed to stop at the end without tumbling.

“That was so much fun!”

“Told you.”

“Can we do it again?”

“You ready to go one more up?”

“Um, no. This was fine.” She glanced at the ski lift and imagined how bored he must be with her on the bunny slopes. “But you go ahead. You don’t have to babysit me.”

“No way,” Garret said. “I’m with you.”

• • •

After a few hours of skiing, Garret and Reagan changed into regular winter clothes and hiked to a canyon.

“Thank you for your patience with me,” Reagan said as she sat beside him on a knoll of snow and furled her legs under her. “I had a blast today.”

Garret had a blast, too. He usually conquered the extreme slopes and had forgotten the possibilities of simple fun. Watching her ski downhill, imagining the softness of her body under those ski clothes, her eyes sparkling with the giddiness of accomplishment. Seeing her like that, it was impossible to imagine her involved with monsters.

“You’ll be sore tomorrow.”

“I’m already sore.”

“It’ll be worse tomorrow.” Taking a thermos from his backpack and unscrewing the cap, Garret handed it to Reagan. “Want some minty hot chocolate?”

Reagan accepted the drink, her lips curling into a flirty smile that dipped into her cheeks. “How did you know mint is my weakness?”

“You mentioned once at Air Dog you love it.”

“You remember that?” She lowered her lids and drew another sip from the thermos. Garret watched her throat move as she drank.

His body responded by tightening and hardening in places it shouldn’t.

She glanced at him, then moved her gaze to the canyon. “Oh my God, look!” She dropped the thermos and grasped his arm, pointing in the direction of an elk. The animal glanced up, stared at them, and slowly wandered away. “How beautiful.”

Things couldn’t have gone more perfect if he’d been trying to seduce her. Which he wasn’t, exactly. “Yes, it is,” he said, studying her. The way her hair wisped out of her cap and curled the rest of the way down her shoulders, the way her eyes lit up with the beauty of the earth. He stroked a strand of her hair and brought it to his lips. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

She turned to him, her lips red and eyes dark. He cupped the back of her neck with his hand and claimed her mouth, tasting chocolate and mint. His stomach coiled in longing and pain as the silk of her tongue twined with his. He wanted her in his bed. Or her bed. Or any bed. Or right here in the snow. Hell, he didn’t care as long as he had her, and the sooner the better, before he had to take matters into his own hands, quite literally.

“Harrumph.” Someone cleared their throat behind them, obviously eager to gain their attention. Reagan flinched away, blushing, as if ashamed to be caught kissing him.

Tanner sat between and to the side of them, making a triangle. And wasn’t that nice.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Tanner said.

Yeah right.

“It’s a blue bird day, isn’t it?” Tanner asked.

What the fuck? It wasn’t like this was an everyday hangout. How had Tanner come up on them, accidentally? No, this was no accident. He had to have been watching them, and what perfect timing, too.

“I saw you skiing,” Tanner said to Reagan. “You looked great.”

“Oh, I don’t think great is the accurate word to use, but I haven’t broken any limbs yet.”

“I remember when I first learned to ski,” Tanner said. Reagan smiled politely, as if the kiss they shared didn’t still burn a hole through her as it did Garret. “I was five, my brother was eight. He pushed me down the hill, didn’t give me a chance. I rolled over and over. Scared the crap out of me and for a while I wouldn’t ski.”

“You poor thing,” Reagan said.

Garret clenched his fists tighter, his gut tense. He half expected Reagan to cup Tanner’s face and stroke him like a poor child.

“That’s okay,” Tanner said. “I got up again and went down on both feet. Loved it. Now it kills him to know I’m a better skier. What about you?” he asked Garret.

“Nothing that exciting,” Garret mumbled. And if it was, he’d be an idiot for saying so.

“I’ve been water skiing a dozen times,” Reagan said. “I don’t know why I was so afraid of tumbling down a hill.”

“Oh, oh, yeah I’ve hit my head before on the water and had to have stitches.”

“Oh my,” Reagan said. “That hurts.”

Was she actually interested in this stupid shit? Did she want to hear the bad things that happened in Garret’s life? He had plenty to share, if that’s what it took to interest her.

“Hey, what didn’t kill me has made me stronger,” Tanner said, making Reagan laugh. “Gar, we should go skiing together one day. Do you heli-ski?”

Gar? Since when had Tanner known Garret enough to call him by a nickname? And heli-skiing? Garret only did something that extreme with people he trusted. Doing otherwise was probably what got Chris killed.

“Maybe,” he muttered so they’d both stop looking at him as if expecting an answer.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Tanner spread out his hands as he glanced at the landscape.

“It is,” Reagan replied, never granting Garret a glance.

What the hell?

He wondered how long it’d take for Tanner to report his kiss to Buchanan. He didn’t know Tanner well, but he reminded Garret of a guy who would do anything to take over, and that meant booting Garret off the investigation. He’d been warned to stay in the background, but hadn’t so far.

What if Tanner did report him? He was investigating her, right? Playing her. Wooing her. That’s exactly what Buchanan told him to do.

Only, he didn’t treat it like a game. He forgot his investigation, his dead partner, his job as an undercover FBI agent. He forgot everything when he was near Reagan.

He wanted to punch Tanner for interrupting and wondered if infatuation was written all over Garret’s face. This was his investigation, and he planned on fighting for it. How was he supposed to find out anything if Tanner interrupted all the time?

He could get up, vow it was lunchtime, and hope to hell Reagan came along with him. And if she didn’t? He’d leave her and Tanner alone? He didn’t think so. He wouldn’t take that chance. His other option? Stay and listen to their banter.

“I missed lunch,” Reagan said, as if she and Garret surfed the same wavelength. “And I’m starving.”

Tanner, of course, was at her side in an instant, seizing her backpack and helping her stand.

She dusted the powder from her pants and glanced at Garret, much to his delight. “Want to grab a bite?”

Garret stood and politely freed the pack from Tanner’s grip and grasped Reagan’s elbow. “Sounds like a great idea.”

“Would you like to have lunch with us?” she asked Tanner.

And didn’t that just suck? She was probably trying to be polite but Garret knew Tanner would take her up on the offer.

“I can’t, but I appreciate the offer.”

• • •

Garret and Reagan rode the gondola up to a slope side restaurant.

The sun twined its glitter through strands of trees, ducked behind clouds to restock, and emerged with more intensity. Reagan had never seen anything more beautiful.

Retrieving lip balm from her bag, she applied it to her peeling lips. “Want some?” she asked when she caught Garret staring.

“I would love some.” Garret pursed his mouth, as if expecting her to apply the sustenance.

Fingers trembling, she dotted a small amount to his already soft and kissable lips. She flicked her tongue against her teeth, longing to explore his mouth again without the hazard of being interrupted. She should have invited him back to her condo instead of agreeing to dine on the slopes. Usually, she wasn’t that kind of girl. Maybe she should become that kind of girl.

Finding a place by a window in the restaurant, Garret and Reagan removed their caps, parkas, and gloves and set them on a free chair. His shades rested atop his head, and Reagan folded hers in her bag.

The waitress came, brought them water and a menu, and they both ordered coffee.

Reagan studied the menu. She didn’t want to eat too much. She hoped their kiss would lead to something more, and it wouldn’t do to have a full stomach.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but I think you should steer clear of Tanner,” Garret said.

Dropping the menu on the table, Reagan glanced at him. His eyes reminded her of the various colors of the mountains, and the emotions they wrought in her were the same heightened awareness. “What wrong idea would I get?”

“I don’t know. I’m not trying to tell you who to go out with but as a friend, I think you should know he’s not honorable.”

A friend? Why did her heart feel it’d been beaten with a meat cleaver and left out in the sun to rot? And why had he kissed her earlier if they were just friends?

And why did she care? Wasn’t that what she wanted?

“He offered to show me around town,” Reagan said defensively. She hadn’t expected this. “We went out once, which was enough to know I’m not interested in him.”

The waitress brought their coffee. “Are you ready to order?”

“Oh.” Reagan grabbed her menu, thankful for the interruption. Food hadn’t crossed her mind. “I’ll have the Reuben sandwich and onion soup.”

“I could show you around town,” Garret said when the waitress left.

“Are your intentions honorable?” she asked, suppressing her hurt at an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Completely.”

She opened a packet of pink stuff and poured it into her coffee. “So, I should trust you?”

“Tanner runs on the other side of the law. I just don’t want to see you get mixed up in that, or get hurt.”

“And how do you know he runs on the other side of the law?”

A shadow crossed over his face. “I know his kind.”

“Of course,” she said. Probably because he was of the same kind. “But if you claim we’re friends, why’d you kiss me like that earlier?”

Garret shrugged. “I’m sorry. I never meant for it to happen.”

Sorry? He was sorry he kissed her? What did that say?
Hey, I like you but I don’t like your kiss. You don’t turn me on enough for me to sleep with you.

Screw that, and screw him. She clenched her teeth together but didn’t have to worry. The last thing she would do was cry. She’d promised herself years ago she’d never cry over any man, ever.

Right now, she wanted to hit something, starting with Garret. She could tear open the packet of sweetener and throw it in his face, but that would only show him she cared.

“Speak of the devil,” Garret muttered.

“What’s up?” Tanner asked as he stopped at their table. He removed his hat, coat, and gloves and piled them atop theirs, then sat beside Reagan without an invitation. “Our blue bird day is fading fast. You might want to get off the mountain before the storm hits.”

Reagan glanced out the window to see the sun warring with sinister clouds. Darkness advanced on the sky and the trees buckled under heavy winds.

Good, it matched her mood perfectly.

Tanner clutched her hand and she turned to look at him. “Thanks for the invitation.”

The invitation he’d accepted, declined, and accepted again? Why did she have such rotten luck with men?

“You’re welcome,” she snarled. When he wouldn’t let go of her hand, she yanked it away. Garret grinned. Did he think this was funny? He probably would. He didn’t want to sleep with her, regretted even kissing her, yet he wanted to caution her on the dangers of being with Tanner. Like she needed any other warning besides her body unresponsive to Tanner’s touch.

She was tired of being nice to men for fear of hurting their precious feelings. She was tired of being nice to men, period.

The waitress brought their food and Garret asked if she’d store it in containers to go. Tanner glared.

“We want to get back home before the storm hits,” Garret said.

“You go ahead. I’ll take Reagan later.”

“Excuse me?” Reagan asked. She was not a doormat nor a dog on a collar to be led, and her blood boiled with both of these men right now. She wanted to climb in bed and hide for a long time. “I came here with Garret. I’ll leave with Garret.”

Tanner’s face reddened. “So that’s how it is? I should have recognized you as a snowslut.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Garret said as he sprang up, but Reagan didn’t need him to intervene. She’d invited Tanner to be polite, but that didn’t mean she was obligated to go with him.

Remaining seated, she raised her hand to prevent Garret from battling her battles. “Just because we went out doesn’t mean I belong to you,” she told Tanner. “I paid for my own meal, we shared a nice dinner but that’s all. You and I don’t have the chemistry for a relationship and no, I don’t sleep around.”

She stood when their to-go boxes were delivered and didn’t wait for Garret. She shoveled Tanner’s clothing away from hers and donned her coat, hat, and gloves.

She avoided both men’s gazes and imagined her jerky movements and thin mouth expressed enough.

Tanner stood. “I’m sorry I said that. Can we be friends?” He branched out his hand for a shake, but she didn’t accept. She sidestepped him and made it out of the restaurant with her shoulders still square and her head held high.