Four Nights to Forever (13 page)

“What’s done is done,” he said again, “even if you wish you could go back and change it.”

He looked out the window at the final sign warning drivers not to park in avalanche zones, and then they passed the last set of avalanche gates and were out of the canyon. Technically, the city still twinkled beneath them, but as they passed houses and gas stations, the magic of the mountain felt far behind.

“You can’t ever step in the same river.” Cassie’s voice in the dark shocked him out of his thoughts. “I don’t think you can ski the same run, either.”

He looked at her so sharply that he torqued the wheel and had to correct himself before he drove into oncoming traffic. “You’re right. I’ve never thought about it like that before, but you are completely right.”

“I’ve never thought about it like that before, either.” Her smile brightened the mood of the drive as much as the introduction of streetlamps did. “I’m glad to be right on a whim.”

‡

W
hatever Cassie had been expecting out of the restaurant, it hadn’t been this back-and-white marble place that managed to feel warm and cozy even with its stark palate. Deep-red seat cushions and lush flower arrangements helped. The hostess greeted Doug by name and showed them to a booth in a back corner. He didn’t look entirely comfortable in his dress-up clothes—chinos, a white button-down, and a green sweater—but the chinos couldn’t disguise the firm butt muscles she’d admired yesterday in the shower.

“I feel like I’m going to eat dinner in a bank too fancy to grant me a checking account,” she said.

He chuckled as he slid into his seat. “That’s what I thought the first time I ate here. It used to be a bank lobby.”

“Hey, Doug,” the waitress said when she arrived at their table, almost immediately after they sat down. “We haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Hey, Maggie. Haven’t had a good excuse to come down from the mountain in a while,” he said with a smile that made Cassie wonder if they had a past. Not that it was any of her business. This was a fling, nothing more. The reserve they’d both shown in the car ride down was evidence enough of the distance that would continue to remain between them.

Even if this relationship did have a future—
which it doesn’t
, she reminded herself—his past was his past.

“You’ll love what we’ve got on special tonight,” the waitress—Maggie—said before beginning her recitation. Doug nodded and asked a few questions, all the while holding that familiar smile Cassie tried not to be jealous of.

This only lasts a week. What he does before and after is his business and his business only.

When the waitress left, Cassie said, “This doesn’t seem like the kind of place you’d be a regular.”

He shrugged. “It’s not. My favorite thing to eat in Salt Lake City is zucchini fries at B&D’s Burgers by the university. But Snowdance’s owner, Bill, really loves this place, and every year, right after the holidays, the restaurant closes on a weekday and everyone comes to ski—or hang out—on the mountain. Sometimes I do the backcountry tours and sometimes I lead the more casual skiers. But I’ve met all the long-term staff here.”

“That’s nice a nice perk.”

Doug picked up his menu but didn’t look at it. “The restaurants up at the resort are fantastic, but if Bill’s in the valley, he always eats here and he takes lots of people out to eat here with him.”

“Hey, Doug,” Maggie said as she approached their table with two glasses of champagne. “Tony is offering bribes for you to come here more often. I already put in an order of potato chips for you.”

Doug turned his attention from the waitress to Cassie, making eye contact and pulling her into the easy pleasantries and comfortable familiarity he shared with the waitress. “Tony is the chef. He’s a fantastic skier.” He turned back to Maggie. “Thanks, and tell Tony to let me know next time he’s up on the mountain.”

“Will do.” She left with a wave.

Doug and Cassie clinked their glasses and both took sips. “This restaurant isn’t what I’d expected from a date with a ski bum,” Cassie said, immediately regretting the judgmental statement, even though Doug shrugged it off.

“I’m more
ski
than
bum
.” The gleam in his eye brought Cassie’s mind to hot showers and sex. “And I brought you here to impress you.”

Her chest puffed out a little, and she was pleased despite herself. “Well, it worked. I’ll have to think of some way to impress you.”

“You don’t,” he said, seriousness smoothing out his smile. “You impress me fine, just the way you are.”

“You are out for flattery, aren’t you?” She leaned in close to him, and he followed her lead. When they were near enough that her breath fluttered the curls on his head, she said, “You’re going to get some anyway, but don’t let that stop you.”

Before she could sit back in her seat, he leaned in a little farther and kissed her full on the mouth. His lips were hot and wet and full of a need that stirred her belly. Her arms shook with the weight of holding herself up on the table, but she didn’t want to pull away. She wanted to climb over the table and all over him. Only when the waitress cleared her throat did the kiss end.

They pulled apart and the waitress set a plate of blue cheese potato chips on the table for them to share. “Be careful of the candle,” she said with a wink.

His flush was hard to see on the tanned part of his face, but he turned red around the eyes and forehead.

Cassie pushed her hair away from her face. “I didn’t think you’d embarrass so easily.” The blush was cute.
He
was cute. And all the more so for being unexpected.

He shrugged. “I date, but not much within the ski community. And Maggie knows this.”

She cocked her head and examined his face for the implications of that odd statement, but she didn’t see anything other than the blush. “But she doesn’t know I’m your student.”

“No, I guess she doesn’t.”

“Is that why you didn’t take me to one of the resort restaurants?”

“Yes.” He had the grace to look abashed.

“Are you embarrassed to be having an affair with a student?”

He set one hand on the table, sliding it across to her. An offering, maybe? An apology, though she wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for yet. “
Embarrassed
isn’t the right word for it. And, God, I’m not ashamed of you, so don’t even ask that next. Any man who would be ashamed of an affair with you needs to have his head examined.”

They both looked down at his hand, which looked lonely next to the potato chips. “I’ve always avoided flings with guests like I avoid skiing over rocks. The resort frowns on it, but they know it happens.” His hand slipped a little closer to her before he pulled it back, and it disappeared under the table. “But everyone knows I don’t do them.”

He ate a couple of potato chips, seeming not to notice the food or his movements. He seemed as though he was trying to fortify himself for something, so Cassie didn’t say anything. Finally, he met her gaze. “I’ve had one other affair—though, that seems too strong a word for what happened—with a resort guest. It was five years ago. And I’ve been divorced for four.”

“Oh.” Pain constricted her chest, though she had no claim on it. He wasn’t married now, and she hadn’t been the wife he’d cheated on. Still, his admission hurt.

He picked up another chip, examined it, then set it down. “I knew as soon as I walked into the woman’s room that I was making the wrong decision, but I didn’t turn away.” The soberness of his confession even kept his curls from bouncing as he shook his head. “My marriage was probably already dead, though my decision hastened the axe. Madison had been suspicious of me cheating for years, and we’d had a fight that morning. The woman made the offer, and I thought, ‘Hell, if I’m going to do the time, I might as well do the crime.’”

He picked up the chip again, staring at it instead of looking at her. “It wasn’t worth it. My refusal to be in any kind of relationship with a resort guest or coworker has been long-standing since that one cheap night.”

Cheap.
The word hurt. “And what about this?” she asked, gesturing between them. Lying in bed and laughing together were part of a vacation affair, but this date and their conversation in the car seemed to change things. And this wasn’t just dinner; this was a date, even if she’d not taken a bite of those expensive potato chips.

“I don’t know. I’m not married, and I agreed to spend the night with you because I wanted to, not because I was trying to prove something to someone. If you lived in the area, I’d say this could be the beginning of a serious relationship. But you don’t, so it’s not. But I want it to mean more than a week of sex with a stranger.
You
mean more.” Doug flushed again, looking down at the chips as if he could hide his emotions under the pile of starch and oil.

“Here.” He pushed the bowl over to her. “I’ve eaten more than my share. Take one, please, before I eat them all.”

They both stared at the chips. Before she picked one up, she asked her last question. “Does this date prove to you that this isn’t a
cheap affair
?”

He winced at her choice of words, though it had been his to begin with. “You want an honest answer?”

“What other kind of answer would I want?”

No matter what he said, it probably wouldn’t alter her choices for the rest of the week. Between orgasms, laughter on the slopes, and a warm body to hug in bed, she was pleased with her decisions so far.

He shrugged. “Some folks never believe the honest answer, so why give it to them?” Then he waved that argument away, and she knew he wasn’t talking about her. “It probably sounds like a cop out, but I don’t know the answer.”

His face looked so serious against his boyish curls. If he’d chosen a more traditional career, he would have had to cut his hair or he’d never be taken seriously and always treated like a little boy. But working outside had matured his face, and his divorce had clearly matured his thinking. She understood now what he’d meant when he’d said in the car that you couldn’t go back and change your decisions. More importantly, she understood why he’d sounded like his decisions had been deadly. He’d killed his marriage, and he couldn’t go back to fix it.

Cassie may have learned the lesson differently, but she’d learned the same one. Life dealt you cards and you played them, and there was no way to snatch back a poorly played card. If you made a bad choice, you had to live with it and play on. Life didn’t end.

“I’d like to think this is more than a vacation fling. If I thought of you only as a cheap holiday affair, why haven’t I been picking up other women all this time?”

“Karen was throwing me at you and you had to either catch me or watch me break into a million pieces when I hit the ground?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood before their entrées came. This was her vacation, after all, and her affair. Seriousness and introspection had no place.

“Cassie, you’re the kind of woman who flies,” he said.

Someone cleared their throat, and they both looked up to see Maggie standing there with their entrées. Cassie snuck another glance at Doug to see if he was still flushed. He must have noticed, though, because he looked away from Maggie to catch Cassie’s gaze, and the combination of affection and desire in his eyes melted all her lingering questions. She barely paid attention to what she was eating; everything tasted like ambrosia.

*

Back in her condo, they made love. There was none of the urgency of the sex they’d had on the couch. Instead it was the long, slow lovemaking of two people who’d let each other peek into their souls and wander through both the darkness and the light. When they came, they came together, and they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

‡