She’s bloody incredible.
And I do believe she has me under that charming spell of hers. I want to explore this chemistry between us. That she lives in Cunningham Falls is a blessing. I can court her properly, and see her regularly.
I approach the bottom of the run and immediately return to the lift and ride it to the top. Then I point my skis downhill and take a different run this time, a bit more challenging, and lose myself in the snow.
“So, Bax, how are things going with a certain beautiful blonde?” Jeanette grins behind the reception desk. Paul, Grace’s original instructor is chatting with her.
“Yeah, man? What’s up with that? You stole her out from under me. She’s hot. I thought I might score with her.”
Jeanette’s jaw drops and she watches me warily as my eyes narrow on the young man.
“Don’t mistake my easygoing demeanor, Paul. It seems you’ve forgotten to whom you’re speaking. If I ever hear you disrespect any guest that way, you’ll never set foot on this hill again. Am I clear?”
“I’m sorry, Bax.”
“As you should be.”
Paul scampers away, his proverbial tail between his legs.
“Boys that age are all horny little bastards,” Jeanette mutters.
“Most men are,” I agree, and chuckle down at her. “But a lady should never hear of it. I’m not his mate, I’m his boss, and I didn’t hire him so he could attempt to lose his virginity.”
Jeanette laughs and pats my arm. “I like you, Bax. How are things with Grace?”
“That, my darling Jeanette, is none of your business.” I wink down at her just as Jerry rushes out from the restaurant.
“There you are!” His hands are clasping and unclasping at his chest in agitation, his cheeks are red with frustration, and I already know it’s going to be a chore calming the bloke.
I silently thank the heavens that ten o’clock is just a few minutes away as I turn to the brilliant chef.
“How can I help you, Jerry?”
“I sent Babs out for you last night, but you ignored me.” He sniffs and pushes his nose in the air. If he wasn’t such a talented chef, I’d boot him out on his ass. Instead I tread lightly, because finding someone to replace him in this small town is impossible.
“I was with a guest, Jerry. What is the problem?”
“The butcher sent choice cuts of meat instead of prime for the second time this month. How am I supposed to work with that? And don’t even get me started on that twit of a sous chef you hired.”
“Let’s discuss this later this afternoon. I have an appointment at ten.”
“But I need to resolve this now.”
I stop short and watch the man quietly for a moment. Have I been wrong to let my staff address me as Bax? Am I too laid back with them?
“We will resolve it when I have the time to speak with you, Jerry.”
His cheeks redden further, but I hold my hand up, stopping any words that he was about to spew at me.
“Watch yourself. You’re a talented chef, but not irreplaceable. I will see you this afternoon.”
I nod at Jeanette and walk toward my suite to change before meeting with Grace.
chapter 7
Grace
I only fell on my ass five times!” I cry, and launch myself into Jacob’s embrace, wrapping my arms and legs around him and planting my lips on his for a quick kiss. “That’s got to be a record.”
“You are incredible, love.” His smile is wide and happy as he holds me effortlessly against him. “You’ve caught on so well.”
“I can probably ski as good as you now, govna.”
“Let’s not get carried away.” He chuckles and nuzzles my nose with his. “But you can move on from the bunny hill to something a bit more challenging.”
“Blimey, I’m good.”
“Clever girl,” he mutters as he sets me on my feet. “Let’s grab something hot to drink.”
“It’s a date.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and walks me to the rental shop to turn in my gear, then leads me to a nearby coffeehouse. He finds us an empty table in a corner. “This is a cute little place,” I say as I glance around the small but welcoming café.
“I had it built a few months ago,” he replies, and helps me out of my coat. “The space was for lease, and I thought a coffee shop would do well here.”
“And is it?”
“It is,” he confirms with a grin. “What will you have, darling?”
“Vanilla latte, extra hot, please.”
“Pastry?”
“No, thanks. I have a massage in a little while and I don’t like to have much in my stomach.”
He nods and crosses to the barista to put in our order. He’s in black ski pants and a long-sleeved, blue T-shirt that molds his muscular shoulders and arms. I suddenly remember the way those muscles flex when he’s hovering over me, the way they flex as he comes, and I have to shift in my seat, trying to alleviate the sudden throb between my legs.
“What are you thinking about, love?” he says, as he sits and passes me my coffee.
“Nothing.”