Mistletoe Magic by Fern Michaels (10)

The sun shone like a brilliant goldenrod. Though the temperatures were in the mid-teens, Melanie wasn’t the least bit cold. She wore the latest in outdoor wear, her favorite top-of-the-line Spyder Gear, which promised to keep its wearer warm in temperatures much colder than that day’s.

She’d dropped Odie and Clovis off at The Snow Zone, knowing Stephanie was there by herself. Candy Lee was out of town with her parents, so Melanie knew that the animals would keep Stephanie company. Not that she’d have much time for them, because the store was jam-packed with customers when she’d dropped the pair off, but Melanie knew having Odie around was an added comfort for Stephanie.

She’d agreed to meet Bryce at the chairlifts at ten o’clock. She glanced at her weatherproof wristwatch. Ten of. She’d left early, allowing herself the extra time needed to drop the animals off. She put her skis and poles on the metal rack alongside dozens of others. In all the years she’d been skiing, she’d never had anything taken. Ski bums were good people. Skiing was not a poor man or woman’s sport. The equipment was extremely expensive, the price of the lift tickets outrageous. The food in the lodge was quadruple the normal rate. But it was a sport that one either liked or not.

Melanie loved to ski, loved the freedom, and, more than anything, loved being outdoors. Her work kept her rooted to her desk, so when she had the opportunity to get away from it all, she took it.

She supposed you could call today a date. Sort of. Not a traditional date, where the guy knocked on your door with flowers, walked you to the car, and held the door open. In all honesty, Melanie couldn’t recall ever having a date like that, but the fantasy was nice. No, she and Bryce had agreed to meet right here at the chairlift. She paid her way, he paid his. She liked it better that way because she didn’t feel the slightest bit obligated to “pay back” in a manner she wasn’t comfortable with.

Even though it was still early by ski-bum standards, the lift lines were longer than normal. While she waited, she observed the beginners at the bunny hill. People of all ages dressed in every color of the rainbow were either wedging, or, as the instructors taught the little ones, “pizza-ing” down the small hill. Those who were better balanced positioned their skis side by side and “french-fried” their way up and down the mini slope. The unlucky ones lay sprawled on the snow, struggling to bring themselves upright, so they could try one more time to make it down without falling.

“I remember those days well,” Bryce said. He’d come up beside her without her noticing. He tapped her on the nose. “Earth to Melanie.” Wearing his skis, he couldn’t get much closer to her without tripping over them.

Melanie whirled around. “Hi, Bryce. You sneaked up on me, no fair! I don’t have my skis on yet. Give me a second,” she said, then raced over to the racks, where she removed her skis and poles and placed them flat on the ground. She clicked each boot into the proper position and adjusted her gloves before poling back to the chairlift.

“Okay, now I’m fair game,” Melanie said as she slid into place beside him.

“Blue or black?” Bryce asked as they poled their way to the front of the line.

Melanie raised her eyebrows. “A daredevil now, are we? I never would’ve guessed. Let’s start with a blue run, then we’ll see how things progress. I’m not as young as I used to be,” she said teasingly.

Bryce laughed, showing that one crooked tooth. Sexy as ever, Melanie thought as she laughed with him. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? Doesn’t matter, she thought, as they stood waiting for the chair to tap the back of their knees. I’m here now.

In one giant swing, they were airborne. Bryce lowered the protective railing before sliding closer to her. “I’m scared.”

Both burst out laughing. “A college professor, and you can’t come up with a better pickup line than that?”

He inched closer, so close in fact that she could smell his minty breath. Melanie was glad they had on their heavy outer-wear. She did not want to see those flat six-pack abs, or his well-muscled chest, not even a hint at what he looked like under all that down. At least not yet.

“I thought we were past that,” Bryce teased.

The lift stopped midway up the mountain. They were dangling on the topside of a mountain, and neither seemed to notice. The gears ground, then they resumed the climb.

“You did, huh?” Melanie replied.

“Yeah, I did,” Bryce said, “so let me see what I can come up with.” Bryce placed his index finger on his cheek as though he were in deep thought. “How about a little Shakespeare?”

He cleared his throat, then began,

“How’s that?” he asked when he’d finished.

“If you don’t hurry up and raise the bar, we’re gonna be in trouble,” Melanie said as they came within a few feet of their drop-off point.

Bryce slid across the seat, checked to make sure their skis and poles were out of the way, then raised the bar. They inched as close to the edge of the seat as possible, raising their ski tips. As soon as they could feel the heavily packed snow beneath them, they shoved off the lift and skied to an area where they wouldn’t be in the way of the other skiers and snowboarders. Skiing had its rules.

Both adjusted their goggles and helmets. Bryce pointed to an easy blue run. Melanie nodded, then shoved off. The run was packed with people, and Melanie had to use every ounce of her skill to maneuver between them without tripping over the fallen skier or snowboarder. She whizzed through a group of students, then heard a loud thump behind her. She slowed down to look behind her, but all she saw was a flash of royal blue as Bryce practically flew past her.

“So he wants to play rough. I’ll show him rough.” Melanie leaned down and forward, increasing her speed. Seeing that the bowl ahead was scattered with skiers of every skill, Melanie made a quick decision, turning left on the trail, which would lead her to a shortcut. Not many knew about it, but this was an emergency. Kind of. She laughed. Yes, it was off the map, but no way was Mr. Landry going to beat her to the bottom. She flew down the hill, slowing down when she saw a fallen skier. He or she—one could never tell, bundled up in all the clothing—gave her the thumbs-up sign to indicate there was no injury, so she used her poles to regain speed.

Passing through the tall evergreens, Melanie was suddenly grateful to be alive. She inhaled the familiar pine scent mixed with a touch of wood smoke; this was life in Colorado at its finest. Seeing that she was almost at her destination, she leaned forward, legs practically touching one another as she soared to the bottom of the mountain. Hurrying to get back in the lift line before Bryce, Melanie hit a patch of ice. Before she knew what happened, Bryce Landry was helping her get back on her feet.

“Hey, just because I recited you a love poem doesn’t mean I expect you to fall at my feet,” Bryce said, his verdant gaze full of mischief.

Melanie removed her goggles and helmet. “If I had a glass of water right now, I’d toss it squarely in your face.” She looked at him and gave him a genuine ear-to-ear smile. Again, for the second time, she was thrilled that she and this hunk of burning love were friends.

And who knew, maybe it would turn into something more. Today, for some reason, she believed that anything was possible.