Chapter 9
Melanie and Bryce stopped once for a quick lunch before heading back to the slopes. She was tired, but in a good way. They were on the chairlift again, and this time she slid closer to him. “For the record, I liked your poem.”
“It wasn’t original, but I could write you one if you like,” Bryce said, nudging his helmet to hers.
“Okay,” she murmured. “I like.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Really?” She leaned back in order to see his face, or at least the part that wasn’t covered by his helmet. She saw nothing but honesty reflecting back at her.
“Yes. Really. Because that means you’ll have dinner with me tonight even though you’re probably going to be too tired. I’ll need some more inspiration.”
Melanie shook her head. “Okay—you left me at the last hill. I’m not getting something here.”
“The more time I spend with you, the more inspiration I’ll have for the poem I’m going to write.”
“I see,” Melanie said. “I thought you were a history professor.”
“I am, but I’m also a lover of words.”
Just then, they reached the top of the mountain, preventing her from responding. Again, they flew down the trails, this time side by side, as though they’d practiced it a dozen times.
This time, when they reached the bottom of the mountain, Bryce removed his helmet and goggles, kicked his skis aside, and wrapped his arms around her bulky jacket. Without giving her a chance to remove her helmet, Bryce dipped his head forward, slightly tilting it to the side, and touched his lips to hers. She leaned back and closed her eyes, savoring the warmth from his mouth.
It was the best kiss she’d ever had.
They stood silently for a few minutes, kissing one another. Little nips, light smacks, nibbles. Suddenly sensing a presence, Melanie gently pushed him away. “We have an audience.” She gestured to a little girl no more than five or six years old, staring at her. The child couldn’t seem to take her eyes off them. Melanie removed her helmet and shook out the long braid she’d wound up on top of her head. She lowered herself to the child’s level. Before she could ask a question, the little girl screamed, “You’re not my mommy!”
Melanie turned when she heard a shrill cry coming from behind.
“Penelope! There you are! I told you to meet me in the lunchroom with your instructor. Where is your instructor?” the woman asked, cupping a hand across her forehead in search of the missing instructor.
The woman, who was obviously Penelope’s mother, wore ski attire identical to Melanie’s. Red-and-black Spyder jacket and black pants with red stripes running down the leg. No wonder the little girl had mistaken Melanie for her mother.
Melanie stood up as Penelope slid into her harried mother, attaching herself to her mother’s legs. “I had to pee, and that man said I had to wait till it was time to eat. I hate skiing, Mommy. I want to go home now!” The little girl started to wail, her cries attracting the attention of the other skiers at the base of the mountain.
“Don’t ever leave your instructor, do you understand?” the mother admonished. “We discussed this before.”
Melanie wanted to intervene on poor little Penelope’s behalf, but it really wasn’t her place. She stood next to Bryce while the little girl pitched a fit that could have earned her an Oscar nomination.
When the mother realized they were being watched by a large crowd, she grabbed the child by the hand. “She doesn’t like to ski,” she said to those gathered around. Without another word, she pulled Penelope alongside her and headed for the main lodge. The little girl continued to cry.
“Poor kid,” Bryce said. “If she doesn’t like to ski, she shouldn’t be forced. That can be dangerous. Grace never cared that much for skiing as a kid, and Mom and Dad never forced it on either of us.”
Surprised that Bryce would even comment on the child, let alone have an opinion about the mother’s treatment, Melanie gave a mental high five. This guy was turning out to be much more than she’d hoped for. He was not just another pretty face.
“It’s part of the Colorado heritage,” Bryce said. “If you live here and don’t like to ski, you’re not right in the head. Speaking of which, I have had enough skiing for one day. I’m pooped.”
Bryce fastened the binders of his skis together and tucked them under one arm along with his poles. Melanie followed suit, suddenly glad she wasn’t parked in the spillover lot.
They walked to the parking lot in silence, the crunching of their heavy boots on clumps of brown snow on the asphalt the only sound.
“So, are we still on for dinner? Grace and Max say that new Italian restaurant downtown is to die for.”
Melanie wanted to appear as if she were considering his question even though they both knew the answer. “Odie and Clovis are with Stephanie, so I have to go to The Snow Zone before I go home.”
“Okayyy,” Bryce said. “I’m assuming they’re your pets,” he stated flatly.
Maybe strike one. “You don’t like animals?” Melanie said. They reached her Navigator, and she removed her keys from her pocket, opened the hatch, and put her ski gear inside. She sighed with relief when she removed her heavy ski boots. Stepping into her Uggs, she smiled as Bryce watched her. “So, you didn’t answer my question. Do you like animals or not?”
“I have three dogs, so I guess you could call that a yes.”
Scratch strike one. Another mental high five.
“Really? You never mentioned them.” Melanie felt so comfortable with Bryce, more so than she had with any guy she’d known for such a short length of time. After the water incident, she’d relaxed, letting down her defenses. Whatever will be, will be. She closed the hatch and twirled her keys around, smiling. “So, what breed?”
Bryce chuckled. “Mutts, all of ’em. I volunteer at an animal shelter in Boulder every Saturday. When we can’t find a home for any of the strays, I take them in. So for now, I just have the three. In the future, who knows?”
She couldn’t believe someone hadn’t snatched this guy already. He was just about perfect. Figuring she was on a roll, she asked, “What about children?”
He switched his skis to his other shoulder. “What about them?”
She laughed, shaking her head from side to side. “Do you like children?” There!
“Of course I like children. Ella is the best niece in the world, as I’m sure you’ve heard. Grace and Max are lucky. I hope to have a houseful of my own someday.”
Standing in the parking lot, Melanie started to feel the cold. At least that’s what she thought she was feeling. The more Bryce talked, the more she wanted him. And not just as a date.
“What about you, do you want children?” Bryce asked, all traces of his earlier humor gone. He leaned his skis against her Navigator, careful not to scratch the paint.
They were having a serious talk. In the parking lot at Maximum Glide. Okay, I can handle this.
Should she tell him about Miss Krause, and her desire to adopt a child? Would he want to take her to that little Italian restaurant if she had a child? She knew about Stephanie and Patrick’s beginnings, and Patrick’s fear of loss where kids were concerned because of his niece. Patrick hadn’t been too keen on kids at first because of this fear. But Bryce wasn’t Patrick, and she wasn’t Stephanie.
Melanie took a deep breath, the icy air burning her lungs. “Yes, I do, I’ve always wanted children. Being an only child, I always swore I would have at least four, but I’d settle for one or two. You know, being practical. I don’t want to be another Octo-Mom. Fourteen might be tough to handle.” She laughed. “Look, I would love to continue this discussion, but I’m freezing. My toes are numb.”
“Why didn’t you say something? Here.” Bryce took her keys from her hand, unlocked the driver’s side door, and hauled himself into the driver’s seat. He adjusted the heater controls on the dash, then led Melanie to the passenger side, where he opened the door for her, just like in her fantasy.
“Let’s go get Odie and Clovis, then you can drop me off at my car. We can finish this discussion at dinner.”