Page 26 of Turn Up The Heat

“Well.” Marcus cleared his throat. “Maybe I’ll catch you another time.”

“Maybe.” Shane’s tone flattened over the word.

She waited until Marcus had taken about twenty paces through the crowd before pulling back to look at Shane. “Yourgirl?” she asked, trying to keep a straight face.

He cracked a boyish you-got-me grin, and it snapped through her like a current. “Sorry. Too much?”

Oh, God. Not enough.

Bellamy blinked, her ribcage feeling like the new home for a fleet of hummingbirds. “Uh, no. No, I think it did the trick. Thanks. Did I look that desperate?”

“Truth?”

She gave him a look that said she expected nothing but. “Of course.”

“You looked like you’d rather have a root canal,” Shane admitted.

Bellamy’s laugh bubbled out of her, mostly because he wasn’t far from the mark. “Wow. You really know how to flatter a girl.”

His baritone chuckle mixed in with her laughter. “Look, you’re the one who asked for the truth.”

“I guess I did. I’d rather people just lay it on the line, you know? Then I know what I’m dealing with.” She shrugged, watching the warm breath of her words turn into puffs in the cold air that carried them.

Shane nodded. “Okay. Let’s try this, then. I’d really like to buy you a cup of coffee. What do you say?”

A smile bloomed on Bellamy’s lips. Nowthiswas a date.

“I say that sounds great.”

9

“Can I get those in to-go cups, please?”

Shane looked through the crowded lodge to the spot where Bellamy stood with her friends as the guy behind the coffee counter snapped plastic lids on both cups. When she’d agreed to have coffee with him, her smile had traveled down his spine in a straight shot, overriding the circuitry in the rational part of his brain. Maybe it hadn’t been fair to judge Bellamy based on her car, or the fact that she sported diamond earrings that had probably cost more than his truck. She had a killer laugh, and while she could’ve easily flipped the bitch-switch to get Marcus Lawrenson to beat it, she hadn’t.

Plus, as soon as he fixed her car, she would head back to the city, no harm, no foul. What could a cup of Joe and a couple hours outside hurt? He took a long swallow from one of the cups, letting it warm him before walking across the room, coffee in hand.

“Ah, to-go cups. I take it you’re planning a field trip.” Bellamy tipped her head at the cardboard cup he passed her way as she took two packets of sugar from the bowl on the side table. Shane had no idea what she did to her hair to get it all shiny like that, but man, he was tempted to reach out and touch it.

He took a long look at his cup and wondered what the hell was in his regular old black coffee to make a stupid thought like thattake over his gray matter.

“As long as you’re okay with a little off-roading, I figured we could head up to Carrington Ridge,” Shane said, looking at Bellamy’s friends. “You’re both welcome to come, too, of course. It’s not far, but the Ridge is a pretty cool local spot.”

One of the added benefits of the Ridge was that not a lot of non-locals knew where it was, which made it virtually unpopulated by the hot toddy sipping jet setters who frequented the resort. As it was, standing inside the massive lobby, with its blazing fireplaces and hipster crowds, was giving Shane the sweats.

“That’s really nice of you to offer.” Bellamy’s friend Jenna gave him a genuine smile. “But honestly, I don’t think Holly’s going to budge from the couch now that she’s figured out how much better Irish coffee tastes indoors.”

“She’s not wrong,” Holly acknowledged with a nod. “But thanks for the invite,” she added, toasting Shane with her mug.

“I’ve got my cell phone on me, and I won’t be long,” Bellamy said, hugging both friends goodbye before falling into step next to him as he headed toward the exit leading out the back of the resort. “Okay, so what’s Carrington Ridge?”

He held the door for her, waiting until their feet were back in rhythm together before continuing. “It’s on the other side of the mountain from the resort, facing Big Gap in the east. The resort has the market cornered on skiing and snowboarding, but all of the trails are over here, on the west side.” Shane paused, gesturing over his shoulder. The night trails were lit up like a beacon, dotted with skiers gliding over the largely manufactured snow.

“Oh. It’s not part of the resort?” she asked slowly.

He shook his head. “Nope. It’s not far, but it isn’t part of the grounds.”

Shane registered the hesitation on her face and stopped. Spending the past year in Pine Mountain—where everyone knew everyone else—had made him forget the way the rest of the world worked.

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