Page 82 of Wedlocked

I crooked a finger at him.

He waved a finger back at me. “If I let you kiss me, I’ll just have to reapply it.”

He was really trying me, wasn’t he?

“I’ll be right back,” he said, leaving me there to watch his ass saunter away.

He didn’t even ask me if I wanted coffee or hot chocolate.

Shaking my head, I dropped into the cushioned armchair and fought the urge to prop my feet on the coffee table in front of me. I settled for spreading my thighs and leaning back with a sigh. The heat the flaming fireplace threw off felt nice after a morning in the wind.

My gaze strayed across the room to the bar where Bodhi stood, looking at the menu board on the counter. Never thought I’d be spending my winter break at a massive ski chalet at some bougie resort with a bunch of my swimmers and daughter. And attending a wedding no less.

I still had to remind myself that sometimes these weren’t just my swimmers. They were my family now. As much of a loner as I was… I wasn’t alone anymore.

Bodhi looked up from the menu and must have smiled because the girl behind the counter blinked like she was dumbstruck. I almost laughed because it was probably what I looked like the first time I got a smile out of him.

They were a lot harder to come by then than they were now. But clearly, they were no less devastating.

The girl behind the counter fumbled with a paper cup she’d been writing his order on, and it dropped behind the counter. Flustered, she disappeared below and must have hit her head because when she reappeared, she was rubbing her crown.

Bodhi said something, and she looked sheepish, dropping her hand from her mussed hair, and then smiled at him, forgetting she was supposed to be doing her job.

I was in no mood to sit here and watch people fawn all over what was mine. I was sore, hungry, and already feeling on edge from the way he was bratting around all morning. I pushed out of the chair to go tell Bodhi to stop smiling at people but only made it a few steps when I collided with something hard.

Cursing, I bounced back, the wall I rammed into stopping my movement. An arm shot out, hand gripping my bicep. I almost knocked it away until I realized they weren’t helping me but themselves.

“Shit,” the low voice slurred. “First, I hit my ass on the slopes, now almost inside too.”

I looked up, eyes colliding with a pair of blue ones glinting with embarrassment.

“Maybe I should just go back to my cabin. Clearly, I’m a hazard to myself and everyone in my vicinity.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t really one for small talk unless it had to do with work and swimming. Instead, I glanced down to where he was still gripping my arm.

He cleared his throat and snatched his hand away. “Sorry. But really, thank you. It could have been ugly if you weren’t sturdy enough to keep us both from going down.” He smiled, pushing the longish brown hair off his forehead.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said.

“Right,” He replied, slightly awkward. My resting bitch face had that effect on people.

Well, except for the morons I coached. Probably why they ended up becoming my family.

“Sorry again,” he said and then shifted to change direction and walk away.

He was limping.

“Are you okay?” I heard myself ask. I mean, he did ram into me pretty hard.

“Oh, this?” He gestured to his leg. “This wasn’t from you. I really meant it when I said I spent more time on my ass than on my skis.” He chuckled. “I guess that’s what I get for thinking I could still ski like I did in my twenties.”

I grunted. “Now that, I understand.”

“You?” He rotated to face me again. He was tall, wearing a blue sweater that said Après Ski across the front and a pair of snow pants. His cheeks were chapped like he’d definitely been out on the slopes all morning. “You don’t look like you have that problem.”

“I just hide it better,” I told him.

He laughed. “Callum,” he said suddenly, holding his hand out.

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