The Lives Between Us (21 page)

“You could.” Noelle leaned closer and lowered her voice. “But maybe we should let Mark enjoy this bonding opportunity with his godson.”

Edward knocked the snow from the bottom of his boots and stepped into his skis before slowly arching his back. “I could use a long soak in the hot tub.”

“And a glass of wine to relax your muscles?” she suggested in a low voice that almost purred.

“That’d be good.”

“And a little back rub, to work out the knots?”

Edward’s eyes widened and he nodded. “That’d be fantastic.”

“Maybe Mark should give Jeff a good, long lesson while I take you home and care for those bruises.” Her eyelids drooped, and her lips spread in a seductive smile.

Edward held her gaze, considering. “You’re a pretty smart lady.”

She leaned up to kiss him. “Don’t forget it.”

Edward bit his lip and grinned. God, he loved this woman.

* * *

After skiing and hot tubbing the next day, Mark pushed a rattling cart through the Snowmass Village Market. Ed was making his famous horseradish sauce for the prime rib, and green beans with fresh bacon bits and onions, while Mark was responsible for the mashed potatoes and dessert. It was hard to mess up mashed potatoes, and Marie Calendar’s frozen pies put dessert within his limited culinary abilities, too.

“Which day are you taking off heliskiing?” Ed asked.

Mark reached for the roll of baggies. “Friday. Want to come?”

“No, thanks. I value my hide.” Ed grabbed a handful of green beans just as the sprinklers hissed, misting the fresh vegetables.

Mark held the plastic bag out while Ed shoved the beans inside. “You’re getting soft sitting behind that Washington desk.”

“I just have no desire to get buried in an avalanche.”

“Unlikely—but there’s no greater high than riding a snow wave.” Mark swung a sack of Idaho potatoes into the cart.

“You’re crazy. One day your luck’s going to run out, buddy.”

Unlikely, but Mark was willing to take that chance.
Gotta enjoy life, ’cause sometimes all ya got is the here and now
. “Gotta use it while I can, otherwise I’ll end up old and out of shape like you.” He shook his head in disgust.

“Grab that jar of sweet pickles. Jeff loves them on sandwiches.” Edward pointed to a shelf holding about five different types of pickles. “Now where can I find maraschino cherries and grenadine?”

“Sweet pickles on sandwiches? Weird kid.” Mark placed the small jar in the cart as Ed reached for the cherries. “Aren’t you a little old for Shirley Temples?”

Ed ignored his jibe and moved back to the produce in search of butter lettuce and dried cranberries for his salad. “With the election, I haven’t been able to spend a lot of time with Noelle and Jeff. I want this Christmas to be perfect.”

“Hasn’t Jeff outgrown Shirley Temples?”

“Well, he’s not having beer.”

Mark dropped a six-pack of Dr. Pepper in the cart, then reached back for a Diet Coke for the ladies. “What’d you get them for Christmas?”

“I got Noelle a certificate for a day at the spa, a garnet heart necklace she’s been admiring, a couple of books, and chocolate.”

“And Jeff?”

Edward brought a tomato to his face to smell it for ripeness. “Noelle takes care of that.”

Noelle takes care of everything
. “Didn’t you pick anything yourself?”

“Are you kidding? I was lucky to get my shopping for Noelle done.” Ed placed the tomatoes in the seat of the cart where they wouldn’t get crushed, stopped, and stared at Mark. “What? What’s with the look?”

It’s none of your business Dutton.
Mark kept silent.

“Spit it out.”

“You only have one kid.”

“So?”

“
One
kid, Ed. I would have thought you could pick out
one
thing for him yourself.”
To let Jeff know you care.

Mark noticed the way Jeff searched the stands at his hockey games and the auditorium during award ceremonies, brightening and becoming more animated the few times his dad had been able to attend. Though Mark tried to fill in for Ed, he knew his godson craved his dad’s attention, but he showed it less so these days. That worried Mark.

Edward’s muscles eased. “I didn’t have time. I did see this one cool game for his Xbox, but they were out of it at Target, then I ran out of time. I’m sure Noelle’s got him plenty of stuff.”

“Probably.” Mark took charge of the cart. Turning the corner, he stopped in front of the chips and peanuts. “Where’s the popcorn seasoning?”

“Popcorn seasoning? You think they’re going to have something that specialized here?”

“Skye loves white cheddar seasoning.” Mark scanned the shelves near the boxes of popcorn. He pushed the cart down the frozen food aisle. “I’ll get Heath Candy Crunch ice cream instead.”

“Shopping for her favorite food?” Ed grinned and shook his head. “Man you’ve got it bad. You never went to this much trouble for a woman before.”

Mark had never invited another woman on vacation, either—never cared enough about one to want to share a vacation with her. He did have it bad, but somehow that didn’t bother him half as much as it seemed to bother Ed. “You’re cooking dinner for your wife and kid.”

Ed raised his eyebrows. “Wife and son. You’ve been dating Skylar for how long?”

“She’s special. And I want her to have a good time with us. I can’t wait to take her to the Crystal Palace.”

“We’re going to the Crystal Palace? I thought it closed last year.” He and Noelle had always enjoyed the famous dinner theater in Aspen.

“It did. It sold last summer and the new owners reopened it for the ski season. I hear the show’s better than ever.”

“Great. Looking forward to it.”

Mark cast him a dirty look. “
I’m
taking Skye to the Crystal Palace.
You’re
staying home to bond with your family.”

They all weren’t going? Edward affected a hurt look, then glanced sideways at him. “I hope you have reservations; they book up weeks in advance.”

“Oh, I do.” Mark smirked. “Noelle gave me yours. Thanks.”

Well, hell
. He was definitely going to have a word with his wife. “What’d you get Skye for Christmas? And, please don’t say, ‘me.’”

Mark shrugged. “Nothing. We agreed the trip would be our gift.”

“Really? A trip with the three of us for chaperones. How romantic.”

“Hey, the no-gifts was her idea, not mine.”

Edward had been surprised and a little resentful when Mark asked if Skye could join them for Christmas. He and Noelle were protective of their family time, and Skye was a reporter—a hostile one, at that—but Noelle seemed enthusiastic about the idea, so he’d reluctantly agreed.

Besides, when they’d met at the airport, he’d made it clear to Skye that he strictly separated his private and public lives, and he’d seen the recognition in her eyes. She understood his unspoken warning. The second she stepped off that plane and was welcomed into their home, everything was off the record.

“When’s she coming in?”

“Tomorrow. After snowmobiling.”

After another ten minutes of shopping, they lined up behind a couple that looked to be in their mid-fifties, waiting to check out. The man bent over to retrieve a case of soda from under the cart and bumped into Edward.

“Excuse me,” they said simultaneously exchanging quick, polite smiles. Then the guy whipped around to study him more carefully, in a classic double take. A wide grin split his face, the way it often did when people recognized Edward.

“Hey, aren’t you George Clooney?”

Edward smiled and stopped mid nod. Clooney? “Nope. Sorry.”

A deep frown quickly replaced his open smile. “Really? I could have sworn—you look so familiar.”

“Sorry.” Edward mentally laughed at his own arrogance. Obviously a mere senator didn’t compare to George Clooney. He’d become so used to being recognized and meeting strangers that he had to stop the automatic instinct to shake the man’s hand. He wasn’t campaigning. Vacationing people didn’t go around introducing themselves to strangers they bumped into in the grocery store.

The man’s wife finished lining up their groceries on the conveyer belt and turned to face them. She looked at Edward and reached past her husband to hold out a slim hand. “Senator Hastings, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Courtney Webster, and this is my husband, Ted. We’re from Bloomfield Hills.”

Edward smiled warmly and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” He turned to Mark. “And this is my friend, Mark.”

At first, the knowing looks the couple exchanged puzzled him, but then he inwardly groaned.
Great, now it’ll be all over the tabloids that I’m gay
. Edward could see the headlines: “Michigan senator vacationing with gay lover in romantic mountain getaway.”

“We’re giving my wife a treat and cooking Christmas dinner,” Edward explained. “For her. And my son. He’s fourteen. My...son.”
Smooth, Ed. I’m sure that convinced them
. He took the frozen pie Mark handed him and placed it on the conveyer belt.

“That’s so sweet.” Courtney squeezed past her husband, so he could pay for their stuff. “Well, Merry Christmas.” Courtney hurried after her waiting husband and then turned back. “Oh, by the way. You really do look a lot like George Clooney.” She winked and moved on.

Edward smiled a little and raised a hand in a halfhearted wave, then felt a nudge from the metal shopping cart.

“Give us a kiss, George, and step aside,” Mark quipped.

Glancing at the waiting cashier, who wasn’t even trying to disguise her interest in their conversation, Edward bit back a vulgar retort and reached for his wallet.

As they left the market, they walked by the drugstore. Edward stopped and pointed at a football player-packaged Xbox game in the display widow. “
Madden NFL 12
. That’s the one.”

He abandoned the cart and approached the counter. “Do you have any left?”

The tall, thin man wearing wire-rimmed glasses looked more like a librarian or scholar than clerk in a resort town, despite his checked flannel shirt. “No, sir. Sorry. Only
Call of Duty
Black Ops
or
Halo
.”

“What about the display?”

“It’s on hold.” He pushed the glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked. “Senator Hastings has been searching for weeks for one for his son.”

Edward glared at Mark. “I’ll take the
Call of Duty
.”

The young guy straightened, and a familiar eye-opening look of sudden interest covered his face. “Are you sure, Senator? I can double check with my manager.”

Edward hated personalities who took advantage of their fame. There was no way that he was going to buy that damned game from this store now. He pulled out his credit card. “
Call of Duty
will be perfect. Thanks. Can you gift wrap it?”

“Sure thing.” The clerk’s head bobbed, as he bent to retrieve the box. “It’ll just be a minute.”

As the clerk hurried away, Edward leaned into Mark. “What was that?”

He shrugged. “I thought you wanted the game.”

Mark knew Edward had an unspoken policy against using his position for personal gain—not even for his son or wife. What the hell was he thinking? “Not that way.”

Mark backed away and playfully punched his arm. “Well, I considered calling you George Clooney, but you’re really not as good looking.”

Funny
. Ed accepted the wrapped package, thanked the clerk, and walked away without a backward glance.

Skye closed her book and tucked it in the airplane’s seat pocket in front of her. She sat back, and glanced at the newspaper the older gentleman beside her was reading. A small picture of Carl Levinson and his wife caught her attention.

GLORIA LEVINSON FILES FOR DIVORCE

After having to withdraw from last month’s Michigan senatorial election due to health concerns, Carl Levinson’s problems keep mounting. His wife of thirty years has filed for divorce amid allegations that he used a DC escort service.

Escort service? Skye stared out the window at the snowy valley below as they banked to the south. So maybe Levinson wasn’t a truly worthy candidate for Hastings after all. Skye had read about rumors of a long-standing affair with an aide; perhaps they weren’t purely gossip. This latest accusation must have been the last straw if his wife was finally kicking him out—heart attack or no.

The plane popped up then jerked to the side, driving thoughts of unfaithful politicians from Skye’s mind. Passengers collectively gasped at air currents buffeting the small jet, but Skye found the turbulence fun. They smoothly landed at the Aspen airstrip. As they taxied toward the one-story building, she turned her cell on and called Mark, hoping he’d be happy she’d caught an earlier flight.

“Hello,” a female voice answered Mark’s phone.

“Uh, hi. I was looking for Mark.”

“Skye?” The voice warmed. “This is Noelle. The boys went snowmobiling and Mark forgot his cell. Where are you?”

“Aspen. I caught an earlier flight. We’re just pulling into the gate.” Shoot. She should have waited.

“I’m on my way. I’ll meet you at baggage claim in twenty.”

She didn’t want to put Noelle out by asking for a ride. “No, that’s—” But she’d already hung up.

Skye had no trouble recognizing Noelle at the baggage claim area and was a little surprised at the warm smile and hug she received. They walked out into the crisp mountain air and climbed into the navy minivan parked nearby. She wondered if they’d run out of luxury SUVs or if the Hastings chose the minivan to keep a low profile.

Noelle turned to her. “Actually, I’m really glad you came in early. Now we have a chance to get to know each other. Have you been to Aspen before?”

“Nope. I worked at Crested Butte years ago but never made it to Aspen.”

“Would you like to wander around?” Noelle looked at her watch. “The guys will be out for another couple of hours. We could do a little window shopping.”