Cinderella in Skates (14 page)

"Shane, this is...," I trail off.

"Yeah?" he asks, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Stunning. It's stunning."
 

"It's too much."
 

"It's perfect."
 

He glances over at me with a funny look on his face, like he's thinking about saying something before he decides better of it, and I find myself wondering what the heck it is that had been so close to the tip of his tongue.

"Surprised that picture of you doesn't scare off all your guests, though," I say, pointing at the frame on the mantle. For some reason, it feels like the mood's shifted between us and I have the overwhelming urge to lighten it.

"What?"

"That picture. The one on your mantle. I'm surprised it doesn't make all your guests want to leave. Never mind. It was a dumb joke."
 

He smiles absently. "Very funny. Come on, I'll show you your room."

He's still carrying both of our weekend bags but reaches out and grabs my hand anyway before leading me over to the winding staircase.

"My parents have their bedroom on the first floor and then we have two upstairs," Shane says. "You and the girls will be in one, and I'll be in the other with the guys from the team." He glances over at me. "Hope that's okay."

"I...yeah, of course it is," I reply, surprised by his comment.
 

I hadn't even given much thought to where I'd sleep; I'd just assumed there was no way Shane's parents would let us sleep in the same room. I don't even know if that's something he'd want right now, anyway.

We reach the top of the stairs and he drops my hand. He opens the door to the first bedroom and lets me go inside first. He tosses his bag down on one of the four twin beds.

"This room is huge."

"We just have the two bedrooms and a bathroom up here," he says. "Makes it easy to invite a lot of people that way. Come on."

After we leave my bag in the next room, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do next.

"Now what?" I ask.

He shrugs. "My parents will probably go to bed but the guys are supposed to be here in a bit. I'll show you the yard."

"The yard?" I repeat.

I'd noticed several cabins -- all as elaborate-looking as the Stanford's -- littering the hillside when we'd pulled up. I didn't think there was much room out back for a yard, but then again, I'd never thought there'd be a day when I'd make a high school hockey team, either.

He jogs down the stairs, through the kitchen and opens a patio door. I walk out onto a wooden deck and he follows me.

"Okay, so maybe I lied about the yard part," he says, sliding the glass door closed behind us. "But I think this is way better."
 

He points to his left and I notice a big square with steaming come off of it.

"Is that what I think it is?" I ask. "I've missed those."

"Yes ma'am. Your very own hot tub right here at the cabin. Don't even have to go down to the lodge club to use theirs."

"Here? In Wisconsin?"

"Hot tubs aren't native to Arizona, Nat."
 

I roll my eyes. "I know that. It's just, you know, cold here." I tighten the giant puffy ski jacket my mom had gotten for me the day before we left. Apparently, Shane had informed me this week, my calf-length coat wasn't exactly ideal for skiing.

"Didn't you ever go hot tubbing in Arizona in January?"

"January in Arizona is still a lot warmer than Wisconsin in December."

He looks at me skeptically. "Whatever you say, lady. You brought your suit, right?"

A wave of horror washes over me and I stare longingly at the hot tub, the steam rising up off the bubbles into the cold night sky. "You didn't tell me to!"

"I know," he says. "I wanted this to be a surprise so I asked your mom to pack one for you."

I stare at him, two different emotions fighting in me, and I'm not sure which one is going to win. On one hand, I'm slightly disturbed that he told my mom about the hot tub at his cabin and wanting to take me in it, but on the other, I'm just kind of really glad there's a bathing suit waiting for me upstairs.

"Um," he says, biting down on his lower lip. "Sorry if that was the wrong thing to do. I just thought it would be kind of fun if you didn't --"

Happiness wins out over horror as I listen to him stumble.
 

"Stop, stop," I break in, saving him from his embarrassment. "It's perfect. I love it."

"Do you want to get in now?" he asks. "Before my friends get here and -- "

For the second time in thirty seconds, Shane's interrupted while he's trying to talk.
 

"Yo, Stanford! You out there, dude?"
 

The patio door slides back open and a tall guy with shaggy black hair and a backwards Wisconsin baseball hat comes bounding out, followed by another guy and two girls.
 

His friends are here.

So much for that.

"Bro!" Baseball Hat walks over to Shane and they do that weird guy hug thing where they touch each other with their arms but that's really it.

Shane looks over at me with an apologetic smile and a wink, and I glance down at the deck and try not to noticeably blush.

"Guys, this is Natalie," he says, and I snap to attention and paste a bright smile on my face. "Nat, meet Grant and Chase from the team, and their girls, Nina and Laura."

I smile politely at everyone, and they do the same, and that's the end of that.

"Cards?" Grant, the one without the baseball hat, asks, pulling a deck out of the back pocket of his jeans.
 

"Ooh, can we?" one of the girls -- I think it's Nina -- says, looking over at Shane. He glances at me for a second.

"Yeah, sounds good."
 

His friends turn and head back inside while he walks over to me.

"Sorry," he murmurs into my hair. "I thought we'd have a little more time than that. And I didn't think you'd want to get in the hot tub with all of them. Cards seems easier."
 

I shrug. "Oh, I don't really care. Whatever you guys usually do is fine with me."
 

He leans back and looks down at me, tucking his finger under my chin. "Nat, please. You're my top priority here this weekend, not them. Speak up if you've got something you wanna say, okay?"
 

I look back into his eyes and can't help but smile. "Okay."
 

"Good." He leans down and kisses me -- a good kiss, not one of those barely-there-brush-against-me kisses that are nice sometimes, but the kind where his lips search mine hungrily and his hands get tangled in my hair -- before he takes my hand and leads me into the living room where his friends have set up camp around the coffee table in front of the leather couch and fire.
 

He walks a step ahead of me and sits down on the empty side of the table. I kneel on the floor next to him.

"What kind of cards do you play, Natalie?" Grant asks, shuffling the deck between his hands.

"Oh! Um, that's okay, someone else can pick," I say, feeling my cheeks grow warm.

"I know what everyone else likes, though," he says, shooting me a strange look. "Laura's favorite is five-card stud. You good with that?"

"Uh..." I trail off, trying to think of a good way to admit that I have no idea how to play any kind of poker.

"What if we play that game Professor J showed us in class last semester?" Shane cuts in, resting a hand on my knee below the table. "We all know how to play that and it's done in teams so I can teach Natalie as we go."
 

Everyone else looks slightly less enthusiastic about the idea of not playing poker but I'm so grateful to Shane right now that I don't really care what they think.
 

"Yeah, that's cool," Grant says. "Teams are easy enough, I guess."

I try to pretend like I'm not making the worst first impression ever as Grant sets up the cards for the game. Shane leans over to explain the rules to me.

"You didn't have to do that," I whisper as quietly as I can. "I'm happy to just watch."
 

He rolls his eyes. "What did I just tell you outside?"

"Fine. But I don't want your friends to hate me."

"They don't. And they won't. It's just cards."
 

Grant deals our hands and Shane picks up his. I sit on the sofa behind him so I can look over his shoulder and figure out the game.

"I'll watch a couple rounds first to see if I've got the hang of it, okay?" I say to him, and he nods, lost in thoughts of the best card combinations he can make with his hand.
 

I don't lean back and sink into the sofa but I might as well. I'm not planning on paying much attention to the game as my eyes wander around the wide-open living room.

It really is beautiful here. I wish it could just be me and Shane together for the weekend. Or I at least wish we could've come without his friends.
 

My gaze drifts onto Shane and I watch the way he brushes the just-a-little-too-long blonde waves away from his eyes as he intently studies the cards, how his forearms flex when he selects the ace of spades to toss back into the pile, the shrug of his broad shoulders as he realizes he made a mistake.

As I'm watching him, I realize how crazy it is that this guy I think I kind of maybe sort of adore (seriously, who am I trying to kid at this point?), this guy that I suddenly want to spend all of my time with, is helping me figure out a way to get back to Arizona as soon as possible.

And away from him.
 

CHAPTER TWELVE

I open my eyes the next morning to an unfamiliar bedroom with an unfamiliar -- and very bright -- stream of light pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that have no curtains.

It takes a second or two of rapid blinking and extreme cobweb-of-the-brain-clearing before I remember that I'm in Shane's cabin in upstate Wisconsin.

Laura and Nina lie sleeping in the beds next to mine after a long night of cards didn't end until almost three in the morning. I quietly creep into the bathroom to brush my teeth and pull on a pair of jeans and cable-knit sweater and head downstairs with the book I'd tossed into my bag yesterday before we left.

It's only 7:15 when I curl up on the big leather sofa looking out the windows as the sun comes up over this small ski town.

And as I stare outside, the book stays closed in my lap. I can't bury myself in the words and miss the stunning view in front of me. It's beautiful here -- and yes, while Arizona is still the most gorgeous place I've seen -- there's something different, something charming, about Wisconsin, or at least this part of it.

In the daylight, I can see more of the town and lodge that Shane had mentioned yesterday. I stand up and walk over to the window and as I stand there, watching the lake and trying to decide where or not it's frozen over, I feel arms snake around my waist.

"Morning," Shane murmurs into my hair, pressing his lips to the back of my neck.
 

I turn my head to face him. "Well, good morning."
 

He smiles and brushes a light kiss against my lips.
 

"You love it here, don't you?" he asks. I can hear the teasing note in his voice but there's some truth behind it, too. He's calling me out.

"It's not so bad."
 

"Yeah, I can tell," he says.
 
"You left your book on the couch for this. You never do that."

He lets go of me and drops down onto the sofa. "Breakfast?"

"Whatcha got?"

"Every man for himself," he tells me. "My parents probably went down to the lodge already. Grant and Chase and them brought their own food. I have bacon and eggs for us. And pancakes. Or maybe there's some cereal from the last time we came up a couple weeks ago. I can check."
 

"Whatever you want is fine by me."
 

"Bacon and eggs it is. Stay here and enjoy the view. I'll call you when it's ready."
 

I smile as he trots into the kitchen in the plaid pajamas pants and white T-shirt he'd gone to bed in. I take the warm spot he just left on the couch, pull the blanket resting on the arm of the sofa into my lap and crack open the spine of my book.
 

I'm lost in Emily Bronte's fantasy world of Catherine and Heathcliff once again when Shane pulls me back into reality and calls me into the kitchen for breakfast.
 

"You make me feel like a bum in this," he says, pointing down to his shirt and PJ pants when I walk in.

"You just cooked me an entire breakfast. I think we're even."
 

He laughs and pulls out my chair for me before walking around to his side of the table.
 

"Dig in."
 

We eat in silence and even though it's quiet, it's comfortable. I keep straining my ears for sounds of his friends stirring, and realize that I'm dreading the idea of them coming downstairs and interrupting us even though we aren't doing anything other than sitting and eating together.

"Ready to hit the slopes?" Shane asks after he rests his fork against the edge of his plate.
 

"If I have to."
 

"Oh, you have to. Can't come up here and get away with not skiing, Nat. At least once."

"Fine, fine," I say, even though I knew what his answer was going to be before he says it. And I do want to give skiing a shot.

I'm just less crazy about the idea of ruining his day and making an idiot of myself.
 

"Get dressed," he tells me. "I'll clean up."
 

"No way, you made all of this. Let me do it."
 

"I know where everything goes. I can do it faster. Now go change."
 

I smile and kiss his cheek before I scoot upstairs to dig out my brand-new -- and totally ridiculous-looking -- ski outfit.

Both girls are still sleeping soundly so I tiptoe through the room to grab my bag and take it into the bathroom.