Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology Page 2

The ringing of the clock startles me awake, and I slap it off. I sneak down the ladder in the dark to stoke the fire. Jason needs to get up early to plow, but I’ll wake him in a minute. Without clothes, goose bumps rise on my skin in the chilly air as I start a pot of coffee and find the thermos. Oatmeal packets rustle in my hands as I shake the contents into a mug without thinking. I recall how I used to do this for him on every snow day when we lived together.

  My head pounds with a hangover as I tap the buttons on the microwave. If only I could go back to the way things used to be. The remains of my cola and vodka are still on the counter, and it gurgles down the drain when I pour it out. I wince at the odor of alcohol and grab the bottle of ibuprofen on the counter.

  With three steaming mugs, I make my way back to my loft. “Rise and shine,” I say.

  Jason sits up, and the covers fall to his waist. The faint trail of hair leading under the sheet tempts me as I climb on the bed to hand him his breakfast.

  “You’re too good to me,” he says. His warmth makes me want to cuddle under the covers with him.

  No, you’re the one who’s too good to me. “So, how long do you think it’ll take for you to plow today?”

  “I did some last night,” he says. “So a couple of hours. I’ll have to do them all again later today too. Why?”

  “Why?” I cock an eyebrow at him. “Do you really have to ask that?”

  He tilts his head at me. “I heard you were leaving today. Change your mind?”

  He asks about me? Crap, I didn’t want to have this discussion again. “I’m still leaving. I just don’t want to drive for twelve hours in this storm. I’m going skiing instead. Want to come?”

  Jason spreads his arms out. “So what was this?”

  I take a deep breath and run my fingers through my hair, stalling. “Me not being able to get over you. Drinking too much and wanting you so badly, I begged you to come in the middle of the night. And me being a total bitch because it doesn’t change anything.”

  He turns his head away for a moment and then gets out of the bed. He swaggers a little as he approaches the ladder and says, “I’m damn irresistible.”

  As he turns to climb down, I see his grin. On the outside. On the inside? I know what I’m doing to him, because I’m also doing it to myself. I hate myself for it.

  I pull on sweats and climb down into the kitchen to get his thermos ready. A plastic grocery bag rustles as I put a banana, granola bars, and water inside. I reach out to hand it to him and his strong, calloused hands hold my face. His kiss is tender. “I’ll be back by nine. Be ready.”

  The plow hits the ground with a clunk and then scrapes my drive one quick time to leave the dirt as bare as my heart. Why does life have to be so damned complicated? I climb up to the loft, strip, and get into bed. I breathe in the smell of our sex-scented sheets and cry myself to sleep.

  A sense of déjà vu hits me when I switch off the alarm three hours later. But this time my headache is a faint memory, and excitement sets in. It should be an epic ski day. I whip off the covers, and a smile sneaks onto my face when I think about Jason. I hug myself, reliving his touch.

  The chilly air pulls me back to earth, and I yank on warm layers for my day. When I get downstairs, I grab my cold coffee to heat it up, and a cold blast of ice and snow stings my face when I set my equipment outside. Jason will be here any minute, and I race to the bathroom to get ready. I don’t have time to make breakfast, so I guzzle my coffee and grab toaster pastries to shove in the pocket of my fleece.

  The familiar rumble of Jason’s truck approaches, and I have just enough time to grab my ski pass from the hook. The ball chain catches my hair as I pull it over my head before I’m out the door with a kick to make sure it automatically locks. My skis clatter as Jason throws them in the back of the truck. The wind whips my hair around into chaos. Pulling a strand out of my mouth I offer, “Want me to drive?”

  “I’ve seen your car, Case. No way.” He grins as I climb into the cab. Heat blows through the vent, and it would be welcome if I weren’t sweating from racing around to get ready. Jason sticks his head out his window to look back. He puts the truck in reverse, and the engine roars with acceleration as he says, “I got you a headlight. We can replace it later.”

  “Thanks.” I pull out my comb and begin the taming of my wild mane of curls. Snow swirls in front of us, making the visibility awful, and I’m glad Jason is driving. Once I’m satisfied my hair is snarl-free, I braid it. My stomach growls with hunger, and I pull out my processed version of breakfast. The foil paper tears as I open it and ask Jason, “Want one?”

  “No. You eat crap.” His brow is furrowed with the focus required for driving in the storm.

  “Only on my days off,” I say. “The food in the restaurant isn’t crap.”

  “Not when I’m cooking. But who knows what you eat when I’m not there to feed you.”

  “Hey!” I stick a piece of pastry in my mouth, frosting side down so the sugary sweetness can get to my bloodstream faster.

  “C’mon. You barely ate yesterday, right?”

  “How do you know this stuff?”

  “I just do.” He sighs. “I care. You aren’t taking care of yourself these days. You’re getting skinny.” His hand reaches over and tweaks my thigh, and I flinch because it tickles.

  I know. I’m a mess without him. But I don’t tell Jason that. I turn away and watch the snow swirl around us. The glass of the window is cold under my finger when I draw a heart in the fog. I ask, “How much snow do you think we got?”

  “Tough to say. The drifts are over six feet in some places.”

  Turning forward, I slip my feet out of my boots and tuck a leg under me. “Sweet! We’re going to have fun.” I see Jason give me a quick look, and I think it’s the odor of my feet he’s reacting to. It’s not one of my attractive quirks, but he doesn’t say anything.

  I lean back and close my eyes.

  “Hungover?”

  Yes. “Nope, just tired. Somebody kept me up last night.” I open one eye and look over at him with a smirk.

  He snorts. “I could say the same.”

  And just like that, my body heats up. My face flushes, and the pit of my belly trembles. I wonder what he would say to a quickie in the parking lot? I smile an evil smile.

  “What are you thinking over there?” asks Jason. “That look scares me.”

  “I wonder what you would say to me straddling you for a few minutes when we get to the parking lot.”

  He glances to see if I’m serious. “Aren’t you forgetting something important here? You know, like the fact that you aren’t my girlfriend and don’t want to be?” Jason scowls at me. “Jesus, Casey, you dumped me. You can’t have it both ways.”

  I shove my hands through my hair and accidentally yank it out of the braid. Damn it. “I’m sorry.” Muscles along Jason’s jaw jump as he stares out at the road without speaking.

  I know better than to push, and I grab my comb again to re-braid my hair. The wipers beat steadily against the snow as wind whooshes around us. Jason shakes his head and then shifts in his seat before he lets out a sigh. He says, “You’re the horniest girl I know.” There’s a mischievous smile on his face when he glances at me to say, “Maybe.”

  3

  Bear Mountain Lot is where the locals park, and it’s at the base of a trail called Outer Limits. Expert-only terrain, it’s not a common place for most people to start. It’s also not a good place to have sex. Too many friends know Jason’s truck, and it’s likely someone would see us.

  When we arrive, Jason drops the plow with a heavy clunk to shove snow forward and create a parking space. I ask, “You love that thing, don’t you?” I unsnap my seat belt and turn around to grab our ski pants.

  He lifts the plow and shifts into reverse. “Hey, just letting the inner redneck out.”

  “Inner? Look at you. You’ve got the stubble to prove it.” My fingers ache to touch the roughness of his jaw.

  He pull
s back into the space and parks. Cool fabric slides up my legs as I shimmy into my pants, and Jason says, “Wait a minute. I thought you had plans for me?” His smile tells me he’s teasing.

  “I did, but the powder is calling. Rain check?” I’m not teasing.

  “Sure, but you’re not very good at paying your tab.”

  I straddle his lap, and he’s warm between my legs as I take his face in my hands. “I’m here to make a payment.” My lips burn as I nibble his neck and press my hips into his. He hardens instantly. My nipples tingle in response, and I think about taking him right now. A knock on the window sends me scrambling back to the passenger seat.

  Jason lowers his window, and Tony smirks at us as he shakes his head. “Coupla rabbits. Nice.”

  Heat rushes to my face as Jason says, “Chicks dig me. It’s the truck.”

  Tony is his boss in the summer. He runs a construction company, and I know he’s aware of our relationship. Considering we broke up last summer, I think he knows more about me than I’d like.

  Tony slaps the truck door. “Have a great day, guys.” He heads toward the lodge.

  “He probably hates me,” I say.

  The window hums as Jason raises it. “He doesn’t hate you. He thinks you’re stupid for dumping me, but he gets why. And he thinks I’m stupid for that.”

  Tony is married and has three kids, so he would understand why I want to have children. I sigh. “You are. I know you; you’d make a great father. But I’d be a fool if I stayed with you thinking you might change.” My eyes tear up, and my voice cracks when I say, “But you know all that.” And there we have it. The reason my heart is torn to shreds.

  He reaches over and takes my hand. “Let’s not do this. We have an awesome day. Let’s enjoy it.”

  I shake off my sadness and offer him a teary smile. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  I imagine that what we’re doing right now looks insane to everyone but a select few. Jason and I sit in the midst of a blizzard on a cold, metal chairlift while wind whips around us. Sections of the support poles are covered in snow that looks like sprayed frosting, and my stomach rolls as we sway dangerously from side to side. Tiny bits of ice pelt my jacket, and they bounce off Jason’s helmet. Snow has collected in every crease of our clothing, and I scrape a section of my goggles with my mitten to look over at Jason. I can’t see his mouth under the fleece fabric he has pulled up, but I know he’s smiling.

  When we get off the chair, Jason leads the way. He looks for a tree shot. A slightly open section of snow in the trees, it’s a protected area to ski. The wind is blocked, and visibility is increased. It’s also full of great skiing, because snow blown off open trails collects in the pockets between trees.

  It’s hard to talk on a day like today, but we don’t need to. We’ve developed a few signals to communicate. But mostly we know each other so well it’s easy to predict our movements. When we drop into a well-known section, the noise of the storm is instantly muffled. Pine trees droop with the weight of snow and ice as my skis slice through the pristine terrain. Changing planes in a slight up-and-down motion, I’m mesmerized by the floating, and my legs burn with the exertion.

  Jason is ahead of me and stops to wait for me to catch up. He pulls down his fleece face covering to ask, “Was that amazing, or what?”

  “Epic!”

  We’re both breathless, and my heart beats hard. My mitten sticks with sweat as I remove it to unzip my jacket and pull my water bottle out from inside my coat. I suck down a few cool mouthfuls and offer it to Jason as I say, “We need to stay in the trees. This is amazing.”

  “Isn’t it beautiful in here, Casey? Listen.”

  Wind howls around us, but it’s not eerie, and I realize I can’t hear another soul. I say, “I feel so all alone.”

  “I know. Isn’t it great?” He smiles and hands me my water bottle. “The Cliffs?”

  I nod my head. “Excellent plan.”

  The Cliffs is a section made up of huge boulders glaciers left behind. Flying off snow-covered rocks is one of Jason’s favorite things, and we spend most of our day doing it.

  After the mountain closes, my body is spent. As we drive home, the truck cab heater wraps warmth around me, and I’m drowsy. The blizzard let up earlier, and snow flurries swirl lazily through the air in front of us. Brown slush splashes up from the cars ahead.

  “What time are you leaving tomorrow?” asks Jason. His eyelids appear heavy, and I guess he must be exhausted. I know he has a couple of hours of plowing to do after he changes my headlight.

  “By seven. I only need to load my car. I’ll do some tonight and finish in the morning.” Our small talk hurts, because there is so much I wish I could say. I want to tell him to lie to me and say he wants babies and holidays and a family. I want him to tell me he can’t live without me and make it all be okay. And most of all, I want my heart to stop breaking. The heat of my silent tears rolls down my face. When I sniff, I think Jason knows I’m crying, and his strong hand wraps around mine as we finish the ride in silence.

  When we get back to my place, I slide down onto the ground from the truck, and my thigh muscles ache with the impact. I gather my gear and bring it inside to dry. Setting it down, I hear the familiar clunk of Jason’s plow drop to clear the driveway. I grab my keys and go out to move my car. The door lock is covered with ice, and I slam it hard with my fist and slide in the key. Colorado seemed like such a good idea, but right now I don’t want to go. The cold leather of the bucket seat bites through my long underwear when I sit, and I begin to shiver. I want to jump into Jason’s warm truck and tell him to take me home. To take me to his bed, where we can stay forever, and all the other things that matter no longer do. Damn it. Why do I have to decide between having a family and the man I love?

  After I move my vehicle, I get out and slam the door harder than I need to. Broken bits of ice shatter on the ground from the impact, and I stomp my way over to my apartment like a petulant child. My heart is breaking into tiny pieces I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to glue back together.

  Once I’ve stoked the fire, I glance out the window to watch Jason work on my headlight. That familiar longing pulls at me, and I ache with bone-deep pain. Tears pool in my eyes, and I try to keep them from falling.

  Jason stomps his feet at my doorstep and walks in. The fire cracks and spits as I look into his eyes and run to him. He pulls me into a tight embrace. So tight, I almost can’t breathe. When he lets go, he wipes the tears from my face and kisses me so tenderly it tugs at my heart.

  We pull apart slowly, and I say, “Are you sure you don’t want to have my babies?” I offer him a brave smile as tears fall.

  Jason shakes his head. “I love you, Casey.”

  When he walks out the door, metal clicks as I lock it, and wood is cold on my forehead as I lean my head against the barrier and cry.

  4

  By day three of driving, I have no more tears left. My eyelids feel like sandpaper, and my stomach is hollow from lack of food—I can’t seem to eat. The white lines on the interstate tick by as I drive through Nebraska. Moving to Colorado mid-ski season has its challenges. The good jobs are gone, and finding a place to live will be next to impossible.

  Driving into Breckenridge, I stop at the first gas station I see. I breathe in the thin mountain air as I grab a realty magazine and start calling. The third time gets me what I’m looking for, and I’m told the manager will be in around two.

  I have an hour to kill, so I take a quick tour of Breckenridge. Snow cover on the roads muffles the sound of my wheels as I gaze up at the Continental Divide. The mountains look like white tents set against the blue sky, and the puffy clouds resemble cotton. Brightly colored old buildings line the main street in town, and ski-rack-topped vehicles edge the streets.

  I pull into a remote parking lot about a block away from the real estate agency. In the back of my car, I shuffle through a pile of clothes on hangers for something to wear. Stepping out of my Sa
ab, I look around to make sure nobody is watching. Goose bumps cover my legs as I drop my jeans and shimmy into an off-white wool pencil skirt and a blue silk blouse. I slip low pumps on my feet and wind my hair into a conservative French twist. Showtime.

  The door to the office I approach is one of those heavy ones designed to disarm, but I’m not the least bit swayed. The wool of my skirt is rough under my fingers as I smooth it down in determination.

  A keyboard clacks away and stops when I reach the reception desk. An older woman looks at me with kind eyes as I say, “I have a meeting with Mr. Jones.” My voice is clear and confident, unlike my nerves.

  “Have a seat, and I’ll let him know you’re here.” The woman’s floral scent wafts toward me as she picks up a phone, pushes a button, and says, “Miss Cassidy is here to see you.”

  Hanging up with a click, she tells me to go on down the hall to his office. I take a deep breath, throw back my shoulders, and placing each foot heavily, I walk with purpose. Mr. Jones opens the door as I approach and offers a hand. I shake, squeezing a little harder than I like, and walk in.

  “So how may I help you, Miss Cassidy?”

  “Sir, I need a job and a place to live.” Before he can sit down in judgment, I push on. “I know in resort towns cleaning people are hard to keep. They’re not always responsible and often leave you high and dry midwinter. I’m here to help you with that problem.”

  Handing him a folder, I continue, leaving no room for him to speak. “Here are five references that will tell you how reliable I am. I can start tomorrow, and all I ask is that you help me find a place to live.” Whew. It’s out, and he didn’t interrupt me.

  He lets out a little chuckle. “That’s all? A place to live?” He waves to a chair. “Have a seat.” I watch as his beefy fingers pull up the legs of his slacks so he can settle into a large leather chair.

  I can tell he’s a little surprised by me. What I can’t tell, is if it’s a good thing. “Thank you.” I perch myself on the edge of a plain, cushioned chair. “Yes, sir. I know how impossible it is to find a long-term rental, and I’m prepared to pay six months up front.”