Slow Burn: A Colorado High Country Novel (25 page)

His gaze went soft. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

He kissed her, pulling back when she broke into giggles. “What’s so funny?”

“Won’t Lexi and Austin be surprised?”

E
ric parked
their new SUV and the two of them climbed out, Vic feeling more than a little nervous. They walked hand-in-hand toward the terminal, a cold November wind blowing in from the northwest.

“If he says another word about you signing a postnuptial agreement, I’m going to ask him to leave. He and James can spend Thanksgiving somewhere else.”

Her father hadn’t reacted well to the news of their marriage. First, he’d asked her if she was pregnant, then he’d immediately suggested an annulment. He’d even consulted an attorney on her behalf about drawing up a postnup to make sure that Eric couldn’t get his hands on her money.

And now her father and brother were coming to stay in Scarlet—for a week.

“Cut him some slack. He’s your dad. He’s just trying to look out for you.”

“He all but accused you of marrying me for money.” She’d been furious and had almost hung up on him.

Eric gave her the look he saved for moments when he thought she was being too emotional. “If I had a beautiful daughter who was independently wealthy and stood to inherit a fortune—and one day I just might—I’d probably have those same worries, particularly if she married some small-town guy out of the blue.”

She supposed he had a point. “You’re about to meet my father and brother for the first time, and
I’m
the nervous one.”

Eric chuckled. “Relax. Either they’ll accept me or they won’t. The good thing is that I didn’t marry them. I married you.”

The automatic doors slid open, and she saw them. They stood near the baggage carousel waiting for their luggage. Both were wearing plaid shirts and blue jeans. Is that how they thought everyone in Colorado dressed?

She bit back a laugh and waved.

James saw her, waved back, tugged on their father’s sleeve.

Her father turned, his face lighting up when he saw her.

She hurried over to him, surprised by the rush of emotion she felt. “Hey, Dad.”

He swept her up in a hug. “It’s so good to see you, kiddo.”

“It’s good to see you, too. Eric, this is my father, Charles Woodley. Dad, this—”

Nearby, someone cried out.

Vic turned to find a woman kneeling next to an older man, who lay on the floor, mouth open, eyes staring at the ceiling.

In a heartbeat, Eric was there. He knelt beside the man, pointing first to one bystander and then another. “You call nine-one-one, tell them we need an ambulance. You call airport security and see whether they have an AED.”

“Are you a doctor?” the woman asked, clearly terrified.

“No, ma’am. I’m a firefighter and paramedic. I’m going to do everything I can to help him, okay?” He checked the man’s breathing, felt for a pulse, then started chest compressions.

Vic watched, pulse racing, feeling completely helpless, one of dozens of people standing around while Eric fought to save the man’s life, alternating between rescue breaths and compressions.

Two uniformed airport staff pushed their way through the crowd, one of them carrying a large white plastic box. Wide-eyed, she set the box down beside him. “I don’t know how to use this.”

“I’ll handle it.” Eric’s voice was unbelievably calm. “I’ll keep doing CPR until you have it set up. Open it up, and turn it on.”

Once the machine was ready to go, Eric tore open the man’s shirt and stuck electrode pads to his chest. Then he took off the man’s wedding ring. “Let go of his hand, ma’am. Here’s his wedding ring. Move back a bit. Is everyone clear?”

He pushed a button, and the machine delivered a shock that made the man jerk.

For a moment, no one made a sound.

The man coughed, moaned.

Eric let out a relieved breath, turned the man onto his left side, took the man’s pulse again. “Sir, can you hear me? An ambulance is on its way.”

“He saved that man’s life,” someone said behind Vic.

Her throat tight, Vic looked up at her father and brother. “Whatever else you think of him, my husband is a hero.”

Her father nodded. “So I see.”

* * *

E
ric and Victoria
got their guests checked into their rooms at the inn, said a quick hello to Bob and Kendra, then went for supper at Knockers so that Charles and James could taste Victoria’s pizza. While they waited for their order, she explained the business model, told them about the advertising campaign she’d worked up and how she’d had to double her staff in the first week of operation. “We just started home deliveries this month, and so far the response has been amazing.”

James seemed impressed. “I think it’s a great idea. You might be able to franchise this, open up stores in Denver and …”

Sasha and Nicole walked in, both of them dressed like they’d just come from the rock gym. They waved, then took a seat near the climbing wall.

James stared at Sasha. “Is she a friend of yours?”

“Yes. That’s Sasha Dillon. She—”

Eric cut Victoria off with a subtle shake of his head.

She smiled, understanding. “She’s a real sweetheart.”

“Call her over,” James said. “Introduce me.”

Victoria walked over to their table, and the two of them came back with her to say hello. “Sasha, Nicole, this is my brother, James, and my father, Charles.”

“Hey.”

“Nice to meet you,” Charles said.

“How was the rock gym?” Eric asked.

Nicole answered. “We got a good workout.”

“Are you two learning to climb?” James asked.

Oh, this was going to be good.

“I’m always trying to get better,” Sasha answered.

“Let me know if you’d like some tips. I’ve done a fair amount of climbing.”

“Really?” Sasha looked at him through innocent eyes, pointing to the rock wall. “I’d love to see what you can do.”

“I’m not really dressed for it, but okay.” James got to his feet.

Victoria walked away with them, smiling over her shoulder at Eric.

Charles watched as they reached the rock wall and James started giving Sasha pointers. “My son is about to get his ass handed to him, isn’t he?”

Eric nodded. “Sasha Dillon is one of the best rock climbers in the world.”

Eric sipped his beer, watched as James struggled up what looked like a 5.9 route, demonstrating holds for Sasha. He felt a stab of satisfaction when Sasha roped in and bolted past James, making big moves just to show off. Eric could hear Victoria’s laughter from here.

Charles frowned. “I guess James had that coming, though it was unkind of Victoria to let her brother make a fool of himself. I hope she’ll apologize.”

“Yeah—after he apologizes to her for giving her private info to a predator.”

“What are you talking about?” Charles’ gaze went cold.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Eric told him what Victoria had said about James giving her info—her photo, the amount in her trust fund, her contact info—to that bastard. “He’s the reason that son of a bitch set his sights on her in the first place.”

A muscle flexed in Charles’ jaw. “I hadn’t heard this.”

“Well, now you know.”

Charles was quiet for the rest of the evening, keeping to himself except to praise the pizza and his daughter’s culinary skills. “If I’d realized how much you loved to cook, I would have sent you to school in Paris.”

He stepped outside once to make a phone call. When he returned, it was clear he was furious with James.

* * *

E
ric played climbing
videos for Charles and James, doing his part to help with Thanksgiving dinner by keeping them out of the way, the scent of roasting turkey making his mouth water. Victoria and his mother buzzed about the tiny kitchen together, stirring, basting, tasting, talking—and sipping chardonnay.

“Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes,” Victoria said. “Robin, do you want to set the table while I mash the potatoes?”

Her brother got to his feet, a smile on his face. “I could probably fit this entire cabin into my living room—no offense intended.”

Victoria rolled her eyes at her brother. “I’d take this over a pricey Manhattan condo any day—no offense intended.”

Eric chuckled at his wife’s response. He didn’t give a damn what her brother thought. “I’m going to carry in some wood to build up the fire.”

To his surprise, Charles followed. “I’ll help.”

They put on their coats and stepped out into the twilight. A cold wind blew from the north, the sky overcast, the scent of snow in the air. Already, flakes had begun to fall.

Eric walked to the woodpile and began to fill his arms.

Charles did the same. “I wanted to have a private word with you.”

Why was Eric not surprised?

He knew what the man was going to say next. He bit his tongue and prepared himself mentally for a speech about postnups. “I want you to know that Victoria and I have agreed that her trust fund is to be used only for emergencies. We plan to live off the money we earn so that we can pass that gift on to our kids.”

Charles gave a nod. “Thanks for sharing that with me. I think you should spend some of it, don’t you? Have a little fun. Travel. That’s what money’s for, right? But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

Oh? This ought to be interesting.

“First, I want to apologize for how I reacted to news of your marriage.”

Okay, well, that’s not at all what Eric had been expecting.

“Victoria is my pride and joy. God knows I have my shortcomings as a father, but I love my children. James is a lot like his mother, but Victoria is special. I’ve been setting money aside since the day she was born for a big society wedding. I always imagined a few hundred people at Trinity Church and a big reception. I’ve been looking forward to walking her down the aisle. Because you went to Las Vegas, I didn’t get that chance.”

Eric hadn’t thought of that. “I’m sorry.”

Charles picked up another piece of firewood. “I have myself to blame. I didn’t support Victoria the way I should have during her recent hard times. Naturally, she pulled away from me.”

“It would mean the world to her to hear you say that.”

“I plan to talk to her before I go and make sure her brother apologizes as well.”

Eric was happy to hear it. So far, this conversation was going a lot better than he’d imagined.

Charles went on. “I hope I can persuade the two of you to come back to Manhattan when your duties allow. I’d like to host an informal reception—a chance for our friends and relatives to congratulate you both.”

“We can probably work something out.”

“And now I’ll get to the point.”

Here we go. Postnups.

“I’ve taken the money I saved for her wedding and made it part of my wedding gift to the two of you. I don’t want to offend you or intrude in your lives, but she is my only daughter, and you are my son-in-law.”

Eric wondered what this gift might be and how much money Charles was talking about, but didn’t ask. “I’m sure we’ll be grateful.”

Charles picked up one last piece of wood. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re exactly what my daughter needs—a man with his feet on the ground, someone who can encourage her and keep her safe, someone who isn’t impressed with money. I know what she sees in you, and I’m proud of her for choosing a man based on his character and not his bank account or social standing.”

Eric was stunned into silence for a moment. “Thank you, sir.”

“I know you and your mother have had a hard time of it. Yes, Victoria shared that with me. The world isn’t a fair place, that’s for sure. I hope that over time I can become a father for you in some small way, just like Robin has become a mother for Victoria.” With that, Charles turned and walked up the stairs.

Eric stared after him, a strange lump in his throat.