Page 1 of All in December
CHAPTER 1
Caleb
“We’ll do one more run, then we can stop for lunch, okay?”
Sam nods at me, breathing a little heavy from the last trail we just skied down, but I know that won’t slow him down. He has that endless kid energy I can’t quite keep up with anymore at thirty-four. I smile at him, resigned to the fact that overpriced chicken tenders are in my immediate future.
We shuffle forward in the lift line, skis clanging awkwardly against each other as we merge with the busy Saturday crowd. I nudge Sam gently, steering us toward the four-person lane.
“Is it just you two?” a deep voice behind me asks.
I turn, and for a second, I forget how cold my fingers are or that my nose is half frozen becausedamn. Even though most of his face is hidden behind a neck gaiter and a helmet, the man behind me is stunning. He’s a few inches taller than me, and his bright blue eyes are visible through his clear goggle lenses.
“Uh, yep,” I say, quickly, suddenly feeling nervous even though riding the lift with strangers is a very common thing.
He lifts a hand, gesturing to the boy next to him. “Cool. We’ll hop on with you.”
It’s only then that I notice there’s a boy who looks to be about Sam’s age standing quietly at his side. His helmet is slightly crooked, and he’s got a bright blue coat on.
I move to the outside so Sam can be in the middle, and the two boys now stand next to each other as the line moves closer and closer to the chair lift.
“I’m Nash,” the man says, reaching his hand out to me with a big smile.
“Caleb.” I smile back and remind myself to breathe.
While I’ve ridden the lift with many strangers over the years, people don’t typically introduce themselves—especially not before getting on—and no one has ever shaken my hand before like he does. It’s awkward doing it over our kids and with gloves and ski poles, but I kind of like it.
It’s our turn, and the lift operator waves us forward. Sam scrambles ahead, and Nash’s son quickly follows before he and I ski forward to wait. We plop down when the chair comes around, and the lift jerks upward as it ascends the mountain.
For a moment, it’s quiet as we pull down the bar and get settled into the chair. Well, apart from a few little grunts, groans, and clanging of equipment while all four of us try to adjust our skis on the foot rest and get our poles situated.
“How’s your day been?” Nash asks, turning his head toward me, looking over the boys.
“Good,” I begin. “Early start, but he’s been loving it.” I nod toward Sam, who’s talking to the other boy.
“Awesome. We drove in late last night. He was supposed to be with his mom this weekend, but she had plans to go holiday shopping. When he groaned about it, she offered to just take his sister, Emma, and said I could take him skiing instead. So now we’re doing a boys’ weekend on the mountain.”
“That sounds better than shopping for sure.” I laugh.
“Dad, can we do that soon? I want to stay up here,” Sam interrupts.
“Yeah, of course,” I promise. “We can look when we get home and plan a trip soon.”
“Cool,” he says, satisfied, turning back to his own conversation.
“Obviously, we’re only up for the day,” I chuckle over the top of the boys’ heads.
Nash smiles at me softly, and his expression looks so full of understanding. “That’s usually all we can do, too. But it’s nice to stay this weekend, especially with the storm coming in.”
I nod at him before my eyes drift out over the massive Colorado mountains ahead of us. There are jagged snowy peaks that cut across the gray sky, and the slopes below are lined with dark evergreens dusted white.
“Do you live in Denver?” I ask.
“Yeah, we do. What about you?”
“Same here,” I nod. “I love that skiing here for the day is even an option.” I’m not used to being so chatty on the lift, but there’s something about him that’s drawing me in, and it’s not just those bright, glacier-water blue eyes of his. “How old is your son?” I ask.
“Benji’s nine. How about yours?”
