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  “Can I ski with you?” she said almost immediately.

  I couldn’t help grinning. “Yes, you can. Any time you want, whenever I’m free.” I shuffled closer. “Cate—”

  A snowboarder interrupted me as he blew past us, spraying us both with powder. We were right off the trail and there was no excuse for such asshole behavior. I glared after him, wishing I could race after him and remind him about manners.

  “You were saying?” Cate prompted.

  I’d been about to tell her that I enjoyed spending time with her too, but the moment was gone. “Oh, uh, I don’t have your number. To organize meeting you after work.”

  She unzipped her jacket, fumbled inside it and handed me a card. “Now you do.”

  The card had the same faint scent I’d picked up earlier. Definitely perfume. “You carry business cards while you’re skiing? Isn’t this supposed to be a vacation?” I glanced at the card that had a handwritten Australian cell number on it.

  “Doesn’t hurt to drum up business, even in another country.”

  I held it up between two fingers. “Funny.”

  Cate laughed and leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “Or maybe I just had it in there ready to give to you.”

  * * *

  A short time later I was at the bar with a work group, nursing a very nice red. I don’t remember what we were discussing. I don’t remember who was there. I’d forced myself to socialize after work, even if only for a drink because if I didn’t, then I’d go home and spend the night caught up in my own thoughts. Or worse, climb into bed at a time when even octogenarians would be out and about.

  But I wanted nothing more than to go home, lie on my couch and think about Cate. To unwrap everything, all those fleeting touches, teasing smiles and gentle questions. To delve deeper into my own feelings, and think more about all those things I’d forgotten I wanted. Maybe I was reading into things that weren’t there, but my gut told me Cate was a lesbian.

  The whole thing was probably wishful thinking on my part. Definitely wishful thinking. She had a teenage daughter, so logic dictated she had someone in her life. There was no reason a woman like that should be single and I was wasting my energy thinking about her. Still, being with her sparked something. Something that reminded me of what it was like to be in a relationship and how much I wanted that for myself again.

  I held my mouthful of wine a few moments before I swallowed, then tried to get back into the conversation. Rachel slipped in beside me, turning her back to the bar. “Did you want to come back to my place?”

  I set my glass down and swiveled to face her. “Not tonight.”

  Rachel’s frown was slight but noticeable nonetheless. “Is everything cool between us, Aspen? I kinda feel like you’re avoiding me.”

  “Absolutely, everything’s fine. I’m sorry, Rach, I should have been upfront earlier but I’m just…” I sucked in a breath and gestured discreetly between us. “This isn’t really what I want.”

  “Blond Goddess?” She made no attempt to hide her smirk. “Saw you guys here the other night.”

  I tried to seem casual, though the mere reference to Cate had my pulse racing. “No, there’s nothing there. You’re an amazing person but you and I want different things right now, and I think I’ve only just remembered that.”

  Rachel grabbed my shoulder, shaking me back and forth gently. “Damn it. I’ll miss you. That way,” she added with a purr.

  “I’ll miss you too, but I’m sure you’ll find someone adequately qualified to satisfy your insatiable appetite.” I raised my wineglass in a salute.

  She shot me a devilish smile. “If I prowl hard enough I might just manage.”

  I exhaled. Thank the universe for uncomplicated sex buddies. Zero histrionics, just a thanks for the good times and we’re done. “If you’re lucky.”

  “I usually am.” Rach winked and swallowed the last mouthful of her hot cider. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “For sure.”

  “Fabulous.” She turned to leave then stopped. “Oh! Kyle and I were thinking of spending a couple of hours up at Golf Course in the next few weeks. You keen?”

  Nothing but good technical skiing—no stress, no worry, no-brainer. “Absolutely.”

  “Fantastic, talk to you about it soon.” She kissed my cheek then wound her way through the crowd and toward the door.

  As I watched her leave, I spotted an attractive and familiar face in the corner. Cate sat with a glass of white beside her, talking to a woman with dark, curly hair, whose back was to me. In the ice bucket by the table I recognized the wine label immediately. It was the one I’d recommended when we’d had drinks the other night.

  An electric burst rose up my neck, spreading under my skin. Cate laughed and grabbed the woman’s arm, holding it firmly. It was an intimate and familiar gesture and the current under my skin sparked harder, almost aggressively. I spun back to face the bar before she caught me staring.

  Shit. Well then. That was that. She was just being kind to me. Probably did pity me but was too polite to admit it. I gulped the rest of my wine, checked my pockets to make sure I had my things, and said hasty goodbyes to my friends. Slipping behind people so I couldn’t be seen from Cate’s corner, I raced outside into the cold air. Limping toward the stairs that would take me down to the road, I paused and leaned against the bronze statue of two emus that stood in the courtyard.

  Stupid. I was so damned stupid.

  My mouth was full of the sour taste of disappointment—the taste of wanting something and knowing I’d never have it. I looked up into the clear night sky, embarrassment smothering me like a scratchy, uncomfortable blanket. How embarrassing that I’d thought she’d actually been flirting with me. Even worse was the realization that deep down I’d hoped she’d somehow choose me over someone she already had.

  Cate Tierney was smart, beautiful, and funny. She had a great kid and apparently she also had a great partner with fantastic hair and who made her laugh. I had nothing except what I’d done in the past and what I’d wanted desperately for my future. Dreams and wishes and nothing more. All I’d ever be to her was a washed-up jock. Not even worth a vacation fling. I swallowed my bitterness, tugged my scarf tight and walked away from her.

  Chapter Eight

  Awake for half the night, I replayed pieces of our time together, recalling her fleeting touches, the undertone beneath her words and then the words themselves. Thinking of her was both torturous and pleasant because everything could be read both ways as just being friendly, or flirting with me. My attraction to her meant I’d chosen to believe it was flirting when it wasn’t. No big deal. Pack up and move on. Go to sleep. Easier said than done.

  Mercifully, after my night of insomnia, I had the following day off. Free days were usually spent skiing and doing housework, or on a rare occasion I’d take my camera and drive aimlessly toward Canberra, stopping whenever I saw something photo-worthy, which was frequently. In this part of the world, no two views were ever the same, and photos of native wildlife, fields of sheep and cattle, and fantastic scenery filled my memory cards.

  After a morning cleaning the house, I gathered my gear and headed up toward the ski fields. Chickening out, I turned off early toward Perisher instead of continuing to Thredbo where I might possibly see Cate. All afternoon I tried, and failed, to lose myself in the methodical rhythms of skiing. It was a strange reversal. Since the accident, whenever I skied for pleasure it was to find myself. I always hoped that one day something would magically snap back into place, and all my fear and anxiety would mist away like fog. It never had.

  I again chickened out the next day and didn’t contact Cate about meeting after work. But my avoidance was for naught. With only an hour until the mountain closed for the day, she found me near the lift station as I was getting ready to take a few relaxing runs after work. I had my head down sorting out my music, and had just tugged my glove back on when she appeared in my periphery.

  Over the blaring song in
my ears, her greeting was muted. Her brilliant smile was not. With gloves on, I kept fumbling instead of stopping the music, and after a couple of attempts, I yanked the buds from my ears instead. The song was as clear as anything. Shit. I clamped my hand around the headphones to disguise it, but was too late.

  Cate’s eyebrows shot up, her smile turned amused. “‘I Feel Pretty’? Not quite what I’d expected.”

  “I…really like musicals,” I mumbled. So lame.

  “Me too. West Side Story is great. I saw it first with my mom when I was sixteen, and three times since.”

  “Yeah?” I finally managed to hit pause, and coiled the headphone cord around my fingers. She nodded, that familiar look of gentle expectation softening her features. When my embarrassment had abated a fraction, I explained, “It helps me relax, picturing the scene that goes with the song. It’s a better distraction than regular music.”

  “Makes sense.” She gestured toward the bottom lift. “Are you heading up?”

  “I am.” The moment I said it, I realized how terse those two words sounded. After a beat I added softly, “Just for a couple of runs.”

  “Mind some company?”

  “Not from you, no.” If she wanted to be nice and spend time with me, that was between her and her partner. I’d just have to rein in my thoughts and work on appropriately neutral facial expressions. I rated my chance of success as slim at best. We started shuffling toward the lift line.

  “I didn’t see you yesterday.” It was an offhand comment, the same way you’d mention how nice the weather was.

  “I don’t work Wednesday or Saturday.”

  “Oh.” One word, single syllable but it sounded strangely laced with disappointment. “The other night at the bar, I saw you but you left before I could invite you to join us for a drink.”

  Us. Great. Just what I want, to spend time with someone I’m attracted to and their girlfriend. I tried to sound casual. “Oh, yeah. I had a few things to take care of. Maybe next time though.” I unzipped my jacket to tuck my phone into an inner pocket, dislodging my scarf. Before I could fix it, Cate leaned over and pulled it up under my ears.

  Then she shuffled forward as though she’d done nothing out of the ordinary. As though her touch hadn’t just set my skin aflame. “Yes. Next time,” she agreed. “You still owe me a drink.”

  Maybe it was a sick game for her, flirting and teasing to build her own confidence, knowing someone was pining for her like a puppy. As soon as the idea came to me, I dismissed it. She didn’t seem the type to play like that. We busied ourselves getting onto the lift, and once seated, she was so close her thigh was pressed to mine but I couldn’t move away without making it obvious I was uncomfortable.

  The whole situation was a personal hell. Not working but not able to relax, and totally unsure about where I stood with this attractive and off-limits woman. It wasn’t her fault that she was so nice to look at, nor that she was unconsciously tactile. The issue was all me.

  As we rode up, my anxiety sat in the wings, waiting to come onto center stage. It probably wouldn’t take a starring role today, biding its time until it’d go from understudy to lead actress. I made a mental note to email my therapist. It had been almost a month since we’d last spoken and the time apart was clearly detrimental.

  “Aspen?”

  I snapped my attention away from blankly staring at the slope beneath us. “Yes?” I had no idea how long she’d been trying to catch my attention. Great, now my sulking was making me rude.

  “Is everything okay? You’re miles away today.” Cate nudged me playfully.

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just working out lesson plans for a certain teenager who now wants to learn some freestyle stuff as well as off-piste.” I made myself smile, willing my face to relax and look normal.

  Cate didn’t take my bait of the allusion to her daughter and what she wanted in her lessons. Instead, she studied me for a long moment, her teeth gently working her lower lip. Saved by our arrival at the top of the run, I cleared my throat. “Arms up.”

  She went ahead of me and without saying anything, dropped off the edge of the overhang. I watched her for a couple of seconds, my gut tight with longing. Then I jumped off and followed her. We skied down. We rode back up. We talked about boring things like how busy the mountain was, whether I was really going to teach her daughter freestyle skiing.

  At the bottom of our last run, Cate stopped me by grabbing my arm. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing, Aspen but…you won’t let Gemma do anything too dangerous?”

  “I promise she’ll be safe with me.” Desperate to reassure her, I went to touch her shoulder and had to cover by pretending I was stamping snow down with my pole. “I’ve done it before, many times in fact. Trust me.”

  “I do.”

  “I’m glad,” I said softly and moved to slide slightly ahead of her toward the racks. Gemma sat with Tim at one of the outdoor tables, playing what looked like a very physical game of rock, paper, scissors. Gemma feinted then brought her fist down onto the table, laughing as Tim snatched his hand away. Not quick enough.

  I grinned and waved at both of them as we passed. Gemma waved back. Tim was too busy flexing his fingers. Cate swerved closer to where the teens sat and called out, “I’ll be done in a minute, honey.”

  She stopped right by me, again in that space that was closer than normal as we both clipped out of our skis. I bent to pick up mine and shuffled back a little as I turned them on their end to rest in the dirty end-of-day slush. Around us, people shed gear, laughing and talking about their days and where they’d go for Après.

  Cate and I stood less than a foot apart, facing one another. It was like the end of a date when you’re wondering what to say, what to do. I chose to say nothing and tried to ignore the proximity of her, the way I felt myself automatically leaning toward her, searching for her. I really needed to get past this.

  Hooking her helmet over her arm, Cate tugged her hair from its ponytail and pulled it back up again. I watched her hands smoothing and gathering pieces and thought about what it would be like to run my own hands through those thick strands. To have them touching my stomach as she made her way down to—

  Stop it.

  Then I thought about her brunette doing the same thing. Fingers trailing along Cate’s neck to her collarbone. Cate’s mouth… I bit my lip. I was an expert at torturing myself so it was no surprise that I’d do it this way too, imagining the woman who got to touch her.

  Cate tucked a wayward piece of hair behind her ear. “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?”

  The question yanked me right out of my self-imposed sulking. “Pardon?”

  “Dinner. You know, the meal most people eat when it’s dark.”

  I hesitated. “Is that a good idea?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be? You do eat, don’t you?” Cate teased lightly.

  “Of course I do. I just meant, what about your, uh, partner?”

  “My partner?” She recoiled slightly. “I don’t have a partner, Aspen. I’m single.”

  “Single?” Mortification made me cringe. “Oh, Cate. I’m sorry. Um, I saw you the other night at the bar with a, uh…curly-haired brunette. It looked, well, it looked intimate.”

  Cate’s mouth fell open then slowly transformed into a relieved smile. “No. Oh no, not at all. That’s Tim’s mom. My best and oldest friend.”

  “Oh, okay,” I replied dumbly. Smooth.

  “You thought I had a girlfriend.” It was a laughing accusation.

  “Yes.”

  “And it bothered you.”

  I nodded. “Yes. More than I wanted to admit to myself.” The earlier disappointment was giving way to an equally terrifying feeling. Hope.

  “You are so sweet. I cannot wait to get to know you better, Aspen.” Her low tone and the unconscious slide of tongue over lower lip told me just the way she wanted to get to know me. Oh, man. This sudden turnabout had me struggling to keep up.

  Heart racing, I t
apped the ends of my poles in the snow around my boots. “I think you already know everything you need to, Cate.”

  “I disagree. I like what I’ve discovered so far but I know there’s more.” She stood so close that I could have leaned down and kissed her, and now I was almost certain she’d kiss me back. If we’d been somewhere else, I would have without hesitation. Right then, I knew I’d been very wrong. Well, I’d been right before I was wrong.

  “Are you always this forward?” I stalled, trying to think of a way to say yes that didn’t make me sound like an inarticulate idiot. Good luck with that.

  “I’m only here for three weeks, Aspen. If I waste time then I might miss my shot.” Her eyes were piercing. “Again, I assure you, I’m unattached and very interested in having dinner with you. And anything that might happen after that.” The last sentence was said almost as an afterthought, a footnote on her invitation.

  I was so giddy I felt like I was standing on one foot on a balance beam. On tiptoes. I nodded. “Yes, I’d like to have dinner with you tomorrow.”

  Her lips curved into a smile that could melt ice. “Good.”

  “I thought…I thought I was imagining this.” I made a back-and-forth gesture between us.

  “No, you weren’t. I’m sorry I wasn’t clearer sooner.”

  “I didn’t—”

  Gemma called out from table. “Mom? Are we going?”

  Without looking away from me, Cate raised a hand in her daughter’s direction. “I’ll make a reservation,” she told me softly.

  “I’ll pick you up.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” Cate gave me the address, squeezed my hand and left me standing dumbfounded by the gear racks.

  * * *

  Casual. Light. Fun. Easy. Panic. We weren’t going to an ultra fancy restaurant, but not somewhere super casual either. I settled on jeans over the cowboy boots Hayley bought me after they moved to Arizona, and a dark blue button-up. Careful hair arrangement. Favorite cologne. Clear polish on my nails instead of one of my usual garish colors. Done. Wait. I checked myself in the mirror again. Still fine. Maybe I should wear my—