Page 25 of Stuck on the Slopes

“Here.” I held it out to him as I returned to the living room. “It’s got a raspberry scent. Hope you don’t mind.”

I could have sworn his pupils dilated as he took it from my hand, but maybe it was just him waking up. “Yeah, raspberry’s fine. Thanks.”

Juniper kept his eyes on the ground as he waved and left, Sasquatch trotting behind him.

We ended up meeting each other in the hallway, both of us leaving our rooms at the same time. Juniper reached into his backpack to grab the bottle of detangling spray I tossed haphazardly into my room to put in its proper place later. He chuckled with an eye roll he probably thought I didn’t see, but from the way one corner of his lips upturned, I knew it wasn’t out of malice.

I asked, “What’s on the agenda today?”

“Something up your alley. A photoshoot.”

“No way!”

“Yeah. The VIP cabins aren’t quite ready yet, but I have some pictures we can use in the meantime. I want to get some updated photos on the website, so I figured we could get pictures of the cabins later and focus on the rest of the lodge today.”

“Sounds good to me. I used to oversee all this in Orlando, so I’m your girl.”

“Mia has a really nice DSLR camera. Edgar grabbed it for us to use today. I guess she got it from an ex-girlfriend for Christmas and hasn’t used it since they broke up, so no rush to return it, either.”

“Oof. But good for us, I guess.”

Juniper smirked with a twinkle in his eye. “Right? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

The look on his face was a treasure in and of itself. There was no denying it at this point: I was down bad for him.

Sasquatch pushed the door to the restaurant, letting me and Juniper move through. He looked so proud in his vest as he held it open for us.

To my surprise (and, based on the way he took in the restaurant, Juniper’s too), we weren’t the only ones here. The Elk’s Head typically picked up for lunch and dinner with few people coming out for breakfast since the old lodge closed. But as the smell of coffee, caramel, and chocolate filled the air, it would appear Edgar did some promotional work of his own. As the host brought us to a table by a window, where we had a stunning view of some elk running through the snow, Juniper sent a text to Edgar to let him know where we were seated.

“It’s looking a little more populated,” I said as we waited.

“Mostly locals, I’d wager. That’s good, though. This is a good sign, right?”

If Juniper asked me that back in September, I’d have thought him to be indifferent. But now that I’d known him for a few months, I picked up on the slight waver in his voice. He was unsure—anxious, even.

“It is,” I said, hoping I sounded reassuring. “They’re probably going to scope out the ski situation when they’re done eating, too. Don’t be surprised if you see them walking around later.”

“I just hope they come back.”

“They will. Don’t worry.”

When I smiled at him, he smiled in return, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Edgar’s arrival interrupted us. He’d swung by with the camera and two cups of coffee mixed with hot chocolate.

“All yours,” Edgar said. “Mia says she won’t need it back, so don’t you worry about it.”

“Pass our thanks along,” I said. “This will come in handy. I brought an old DSLR with me, but this one looks way nicer.”

“Battery’s all charged up, too.”

“Thank you again,” Juniper said. “I appreciate it a lot.”

“What can I get you two to eat?”

As much as I fantasized about living a life of luxury where I lazed about eating Edgar’s French toast pancakes every morning, I didn’t want to have anything too heavy before a full photoshoot day. I opted for a traditional American breakfast; thankfully, Edgar had turkey sausage he swapped out for me instead of bacon. Juniper must have had the same idea because he simply asked Edgar to make it two.

Once Edgar left, Juniper opened his backpack and pulled out a sheet of paper. “I remember having shot lists from back in my photoshoot days. They can’t be that different from the ones you’re used to, so I kind of winged it.” Juniper slid the page across the table. “Let me know what you think. If it sucks, you can do whatever you think is best.”

He sounded so dismissive as I grabbed the sheet, but part of me sensed he was secretly hoping for my approval. I was getting better at spotting his tells, the little things that revealed the caring soul beneath his rocky attitude. In this case, it was the way he immediately reached for his coffee, hiding his face behind his long sip as I glanced over the sheet.

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