Page 11 of A Bear Ski Instructor Christmas

Determination surged through her veins, and she balled her fists. She’d given up once, years ago. She wasn’t about to make that mistake again. Maybe he really couldn’t remember who she was. But Rachel was going to do everything in her power to make sure that he did.

I’m here, Michael,she thought.I’ve finally found you.

Chapter Four

Santa Doesn’t Have any Sexy Elves

“She didwhat?”

Andrew straightened, glancing up from the wooden pole he was polishing, and fixed his friend with an incredulous stare. Still hunched over the straps he was hammering onto a pair of skis, Michael let out a sigh for what he imagined was the twentieth time since yesterday.

“She kissed me,” he said. “It happened so suddenly. I didn’t even see it coming.”

His friend let out a guffaw. “How come you didn’t tell me about this yesterday?”

Michael pondered the question for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess I was still trying to make sense of the whole thing myself. It’s not every day some random woman appears on the mountain and kisses you moments before attacking you.”

The workshop was empty except for the two men and the dozens of new wooden skis they’d managed to craft over the past couple of weeks. The scent of tar hung in the air, growing fainter as gusts of cold wind wafted through the open doorway. Neither man was bothered by the chill despite the fact that they were both bare-chested; rivulets of sweat trickled down Michael’s broad chest to his firm abdomen.

“Look,” he said, “I just feel weird about it all. She knew my name. I don’t remember ever seeing her in my life, and she knows my last name. I’d say maybe we bumped into each other once back in my world, but she was saying things about meabandoningher. You know what that sounds like?”

“It sounds like you two were…”

“Close? Exactly.”

“I was going to sayinvolved,” Andrew said with a grimace. “But yes.”

Michael suppressed a groan. “What else could she know about me?” Less than a day had passed since his encounter with that elfish woman. What was her name again? Rachel. The woman he couldn’t seem to remember for some reason. The woman who’d kissed him.

“Who knows? She’s got to be someone from your past.” Andrew held up the pole he’d been polishing, admiring his handiwork for a moment.

His past. Michael felt his gut clench at the thought.

It had been barely three years ago when he woke up on Frost Mountain with no idea how he’d gotten here. Half-buried in snow, his head pounding where he’d struck it against a nearby rock, he might have wasted away in the cold if the people of Melinor hadn’t discovered him when they did.

It had taken Michael weeks to recover from what Reba insisted was some kind of accident. Right from the start, a few things had already been clear to him. The first was that he wasn’t from Frost Mountain. He’d come from another world, an entire dimension away. The second thing was that his memory had been impaired. It had taken weeks for him to remember most things.

Andrew had been there to help. Both men had been friends for nearly three years now. Born and raised on Frost Mountain, Andrew had no trouble helping Michael get accustomed to the place and Melinor. Over the years, they had become almost brothers.

He and Andrew spent most of their time together, either skiing or practicing their woodcraft in the workshop. Between the adrenaline highs of hurtling down the mountain and the soothing effect that woodwork had on them, Michael thought they lived pretty satisfactory lives.

“Someone you know?” Andrew offered again. A smirk appeared on his lips. “Someone you loved, maybe?”

The question stilled Michael for a moment. Rachelhadkissed him earlier. But if they’d been lovers, he certainly would remember her, right? He was pretty sure he remembered every significant detail about his life. He knew he loved to ski; he knew he was skilled at crafts. He knew he was a bear shifter. He knew he’d been in different relationships before he arrived here. Yet the memory of Rachel was nowhere to be found.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

The memory of Rachel’s lips on his filled his mind again, and he felt his heart pick up the pace. If she hadn’t broken the kiss and slapped him, they might have stood like that in the snow forever. He didn’t know this woman, but that brief encounter with her had felt…right.

He hadn’t seen her since they returned to the village. Was she okay? He had to admit, she’d been occupying his mind for hours.

But he had other things to worry about. With Christmas fast approaching, he and Andrew were fashioning as many skis as they possibly could so he could train the villagers as he did yearly. Michael had never imagined becoming a ski instructor, but when the people of Melinor saw what he could do, they all wanted to learn how to do it. Every year, at least two dozen new people wanted to learn from him. If this were a business back in his world, he’d be swimming—no,skiing—in dollars.

But that world was gone forever. Frost Mountain was his only home now.

And it was Rachel’s, too. He remembered how long it had taken him to get used to this place. No doubt, she was confused and terrified. It wasn’t every day a person got whisked from their life onto a mountain that defied nature.

Maybe he could look for her later to check up on her—not for any other reason, of course. As someone who’d found himself on Frost Mountain all of a sudden, he was fully aware of just how trying it could be to adjust to this new reality. Then again, sowere a large number of the village folk. Melinor was home to all, but the way Michael saw it, this place had more connection to his old world than to the mountain.

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