Page 60 of Stuck on the Slopes

I laughed. “I’ll be sure to film it so we can go viral. Maybe we’d get some people booking rooms out of pity.”

“Perfect! Fuck 9-1-1, right?”

We both laughed, and I set my gaze forward; the deer hadn’t moved in a while, and we were getting close to the end of the trail. I realized now I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

“So, in all seriousness, what happens if a deer does charge for you?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Run like hell and hope they don’t hit you.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Fetal position. They’ll poke at you a few times and then get bored.”

“Good to know,” she said as we approached the lobby. Once we stepped inside, I froze.

Three reporters—two men and a woman—from different crews were here, some with camera people and others with notepads. Based on the way they dressed, they weren’t with the news, but for different tabloid publications. They all turned to look at us as we entered, but Rachel didn’t let go of my hand. I debated on dropping hers, protecting her by distancing myself from her, but I also didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. The reporters spoke all at once, making it even harder to hear myself think.

“Mr. Hart!”

“Juniper!”

“Rachel, is it?”

Ever the professional, Rachel slipped her hand out of mine but immediately landed it right on my shoulder: less intimate than hand-holding, but still a grounding touch that both comforted me and sent a clear message to the reporters. Rachel wasn’t afraid: not of us being seen together, not of what anyone might think, and not of what they might call her. To say I was in awe of her was an understatement.

“How can we help y’all?” I noticed while Rachel still kept that customer service voice of hers tucked away for moments like this, she’d toned it down in the months she’d been here.

One man said, “We were curious if you’d like to comment on the recent rumors circulating about the two of you.”

The physical reaction was instant. My jaw clenched and my body tensed, but Rachel spoke up before I could tell them to fuck off.

“I’m not sure what rumors you’re talking about. We’ve been so busy getting everything ready for The Fox’s Den to reopen, as I’m sure you can see.” Rachel flashed them a million-dollar smile and then said, “So, no comment other than I look forward to seeing everybody back when we open next month. I’m sure I speak for both of us when I say that.”

I wasn’t sure where to go next. I didn’t want to go to our rooms so they couldn’t follow us there, but Rachel must have been a psychic. She simply walked in the other direction, heading toward the laundry room instead of the first-floor suites. Acting like I knew where we were going, I followed her as she said, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got a few more last-minute touch-ups to make. Have a great rest of your day!”

The second we were down the hall with our backs turned, Rachel whispered, “You okay?”

I couldn’t find the words to express my gratitude, so in the privacy of the laundry room, I pressed her back into the washing machine and kissed her, my arms wrapping around her torso and fingers tangling in her hair. Every time I kissed her, I felt euphoric and light in a way I hadn’t in ages. Rachel gripped my shoulders for support, but never pulled away; instead, she arched her back into me, our bodies as close as they could be with clothes on.

Thanks to her, I was okay.

Chapter 17

Rachel

Warmthhitmyfacethe moment I stepped inside the lobby, starting in my ears and then spreading through the rest of the little exposed skin I had. Even with the layers, I was still getting used to winter, and while I enjoyed the way the air nipped at my nose, the indoor heating didn’t feel like any less of a relief.

While Juniper had taken care of some business with Edgar—he hadn’t said what, just that Edgar asked for his help with something—I went to add some last-minute stock we’d gotten in for the ski rentals. Some mail had been abandoned at the front desk, so I grabbed it to see if there was anything I could help with. When I was halfway through the stack, I heard rapid shuffling down the hallway.

“Hey!”

I looked up from the front desk to see Mia flagging me down. She clutched a magazine in her fist. It had been rolled up like she was ready to whack a spider with it. Her knuckles were white. Before I could even greet her, Mia slammed the magazine down on the front desk. I could hear the pages crinkle as they unraveled.

“You need to see this,” Mia said. “It’s about you. Juniper, too, but mostly you.”

When I picked the magazine up, there was a picture of me, Juniper, and Sasquatch. Based on our outfits, they took the photo the other day when we were returning to the lodge after we’d been snowed into the cabins. In the zoomed-in photo, Juniper was smiling, closed-lipped but warm, right at me as I laughed about God knows what. There was no denying the way he looked at me moved far beyond professional. In the corner was a photo of us in the lobby holding hands from when the press found us before we snuck into the laundry room.

But I couldn’t enjoy a candid photo of him looking smitten over me for long. The wordsJUNIPER’S MYSTERY SKI BUNNYemblazoned the front cover in large, all-capital text. Beneath it, it read, “Who is the mystery girl at Juniper Hart’s new ski lodge?”

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