Page 6 of Ice To Meet You

He shifted his body, making the chair shudder.

“Well, you can’t enjoy the scenery that way,” he said.

“What way?”

“With your eyes shut”

I gave what I hoped passed for a nonchalant shrug. “Last time I looked, a tree is a tree, and a very tall mountain is a very tall mountain. I don’t think I need a refresher.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice soft and coaxing. “Does my face offend you?”

Hardly.

I let out a slow breath. “I … I don’t like heights.”

He growled or was it a groan? I couldn’t tell, but its tone wasdeep and gentle.“Then what’re you doing up here? In the mountains? On a chairlift?”

When he put it like that, it sounded ridiculous. Heights hadn’t bothered me in my younger years, but the fear had grown as I got older. My co-rider had a point, though. I belonged in town, drinking hot chocolate with a good romance novel. Not trying to impress potential investors with my out-of-practice skiing skills.

“But,” he added, his voice gentler, “I’m glad you’re here. Riding solo on a chairlift is a lonely business. It’s just a shame we can’t share the view together.”

His warm, low tone wove around my heart, giving it a small but insistent tug. Would I truly deny him someone to share the view with? He sounded genuinely disappointed. And who was I to be selfish?

“Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll open my eyes—but under protest. And I’ll only look straight ahead, not up, down, or backwards.”

His throaty chuckle curled its way down to my toes. “Then I’m honoured.”

Lifting my lashes, I couldn’t resist a quick peek at him. His smile was just as cheeky and delicious as before, and something tingly rolled in my belly.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but just then, the chairlift jolted to a stop.

I froze as it swayed gently—then not-so-gently—back and forth. My fingers tightened around the safety bar, and I kept my gaze fixed on the section of mountain in front of us.

“What’s happening?” My breath came shallow and fast, and I focused on the stillness of the trees ahead instead of the unsettling creak of the cables above.

“The lift stopped.”

I almost made a pithy remark about him stating the obvious. But if we were stuck on the chairlift, I wanted to maintain friendly relations.

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning back like it was just another day. “These old lifts stop all the time. We’ll be moving in a minute.” He smiled. “Who are you skiing with? Or is this a solo summit attempt? If so, you might need warmer clothes.”

His gaze swept over me, from my Pikachu skis to my pink pants, over my glitter-drenched shoulders, and finally, to my pink earmuffs. His lips twitched. “Where’s your helmet? Didn’t the Pink Power Ranger have a spare?”

I pulled my brows tight together. He was far too cheeky for his own?—

“Hang on, I need a helmet?” Neither Gio nor Maria had mentioned protective headgear.

“It’s fairly standard these days. Particularly with those skis being damaged.”

“That’s true,” I said, lifting my leg into the air and wiggling my foot again to prove his point.

Once more, my ski followed suit, but after three wiggles, a soft “clunk” kissed the air and it popped off my boot, falling to the ground below.

Both my chairlift buddy and I followed it with our eyes. It hit the snow almost soundlessly before gathering speed, sliding downhill, and crashing into a tree. A shower of flakes descended from the branches, burying my ski for all eternity.

“RIP Pikachu,” the man murmured. Then he looked at me, his eyes wide. “I hope it didn’t hit anything. The mountain hares up here are protected. You could wipe out an entire species.”

“What?” Was he mad? Before I could ask, that adorable grin erupted on his face again.

---