Page 116 of The Calendar of New Beginnings
“Why didn’t I realize you were a pro at skiing like you are at everything else?” Evan asked after skidding way too close to him. He was wearing a lime green ski suit with black racing stripes.
Only Evan could pull off a ski suit with racing stripes.
“Because we’ve never gone skiing together,” Chase answered, causing Evan to roll his eyes behind his dark ski goggles.
Moira, who’d just pulled up beside them, shook her head. “How is that even possible? I thought you two were known for hanging out at Europe’s finest ski resorts.”
Chase snorted. “That was all Evan—in his playboy days—before Margie.”
“My one and only,” Evan said, a charming but dopey smile on his face.
“I only visited Evan in Europe when he needed to get his head out of his ass,” Chase continued. “I sleep better at night these days knowing he’s all grown up. It was a burden to remind him to eat before he met her.”
It was meant to be a joke, but it was mostly true. Chase had helped Evan grow up, and yes, while it galled him to admit it, there were times when he’d needed to remind the sometimes-forgetful inventor to eat. And shower.
Evan made a dramatic show of looking over his shoulder. “My head doesn’t seem to be up my ass anymore, Chase.”
Moira laughed again, and they slowly made their way back to the lift. Evan and Moira were chatting about the view and how wonderful it was to be living in Dare Valley. Evan was new to the small town, but Moira had been born here. While she’d lived in Denver for a while, this was home to her. She had plenty of family here—a family Evan was now connected to through his wife.
Yet another reason Moira was off limits.
“Don’t have anything like this view in the D.C. metro area, do you?” Evan said, clapping him on the back as they sat in the lift.
It was obviously rhetorical, but Chase answered him anyway. “No, but we have the Smithsonian museums and a heck of a lot more restaurants.”
Evan cracked his neck. “They had all that and more in Paris, but I still prefer it here.”
“Because the woman you love is here,” Chase said with a grin.
When they crested off the lift, Chase skied to the right and stopped, waiting for the others to catch up with him.
Evan flashed a smile to a few skiers as he passed them, and one of them whisper-shouted, “Isn’t that Evan Michaels?” As a billionaire inventor and the only man in town in possession of both a red Ferrari and a black Lamborghini Reventon, Evan had achieved a weird celebrity status among some Dare Valley folk. Being Evan, he enjoyed every minute of it.
“Good thing they can’t ask for your autograph,” Moira joked as they joined Chase.
“Oh, they could ask for it,” Evan said. “You wouldn’t believe the kinds of places I’ve had…ahem…models ask me to autograph.”
“If anyone suggests something super inappropriate,” Moira said, “leave them to me. I’m good at kindly brushing those sorts of overtures off.”
Chase wondered about that. She was beautiful, but she wouldn’t be an easy mark for the kind of guy who picked up women at bars. She was too confident, too no-nonsense. It was part of her appeal.
“I’m thirsty,” Evan announced, planting his polesin the snow. “See you guys at the bottom. Chase, you won’t catch me this time.”
There was a sluice of snow against skis as Evan pushed off and sailed down the hill. Honestly, there was no way Chase was going to race Evan. There were some lines work colleagues and friends didn’t cross.
“Afraid to race him?” Moira asked.
“No,” he replied, feeling a sheen of snow cover his face and melt as the wind rose up.
“I didn’t think so,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m not sure anything scares you.”
You do sometimes,he wanted to say, but refrained. Getting older meant knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “Fear pisses me off,” he said instead.
“Oh, I like that. Do you mind if I use that?”
“Not at all.”
Then she tugged her yellow ski goggles up, giving him a clear view of her green eyes. Clearly she was in no rush to ski, and neither was he, it seemed. The edges of her brown hair curled around her white stocking cap, and his eyes narrowed on her lush, red lips, slightly cracked from the cold. He didn’t want to stop looking at her.
