Page 1 of Falling for the Quarterback

Prologue

Clearview Ski Resort - March

Charlotte

“So how about that drink?”

The man I just met and who practically saved my life on the ski slope winks and motions toward the lobby of the ski resort. “I know a better place than that one.” He offers me a large hand expectantly.

With a furtive glance around the quiet lodge area, I cautiously accept it, feeling the warmth of his palm immediately spread through the length of my arm. Then I wonder if it’s wise to trust a man I just met.

However, he did just save me. That counts for something, right? Had it not been for his quick actions, the ski patrol would’ve been peeling my mangled limbs from that tree I nearly crashed into earlier.

One minute I’m on my feet and the next, I’m being tugged into his side, held steady and upright against his body. This man has some amazing strength and reaction time. With a palm to the curve of my lower back, he guides me past the posh lobby bar and outside the front doors of the lodge.

“Where are we going?” There’s a slight rise at the end of my question and I wonder if I should say yes.

“You’ll see. It’s just down the back.”

The snow crunches underneath our snow boots as we walk along a stone path toward the back of the lodge, where the smell of an outdoor fire rises through the crisp air. He leads me toward a small shack that looks like something out of aHobbitmovie, with a thatched roof covered in snow. I breathe out a slight sigh of relief that he didn’t drag me into the woods like my imagination suggested. As we enter, I get a glimpse of the low-lit room, with its all-alpine woods and dark corners and a giant stone hearth that has a warm fire burning in it.

It makes for a cozy and romantic hideaway, and I instantly feel the effects as he locates us two seats at a small table near the back of the bar.

He pulls out the chair for me and I take a seat, covering the back of it with my ski jacket. He raises a finger to grab the attention of the bartender, a beast of a man who could easily pass for a lumberjack. Jake, his name tag says, rounds the corner of the bar and he steps up to our table.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Hendy,” Jake says, giving a bro handshake to the man I’m with. “What can I get you two?”

“What would you like?” my potential bad decision asks as he turns toward me with a smile that could melt glaciers.

My thoughts are still wrapped around the idea that this man—Hendy, as I’ve now learned—is a known entity to the bartender, which eases my worries exponentially. At the very least, if I suddenly disappear, Jake could tell the authorities I was last seen with Hendy.

“A chardonnay,” I croak dryly, tacking on a small smile of my own. While a shot of some whiskey would do better in calming my nerves, hard liquor would also make my bad decisions increase tenfold.

I think back to what my best friend Poppy suggested earlier this afternoon during our phone call.

“Have some fun. Maybe you could even meet a handsome cowboy or hot ski instructor on the slopes.”

My gaze refocuses on Hendy, as the heat of his eyes on me has me radiating from the inside out.

“Good choice. I’ll have a Clase Azul Reposado on the rocks,” he says. The bartender nods and lumbers off to make our drinks. It gives me a chance to ask a follow up question to what I’ve learned so far.

“Sounds like you’re a regular here…Hendy? Is that your name?”

He chuckles, leaning casually back in his seat with the tilt of his head. “Yep. That’s what they call me.”

“I’m Lottie,” I state matter-of-factly, choosing to use my childhood nickname for some reason. It feels less restrictive than my full name. And since I’m stepping way out of my normal comfort zone tonight, why not try it on for size?

Hendy hand reaches across the table looking for mine. I place my hand in his and he leans over and kisses my knuckles. A shiver runs up my arm and down my spine.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, lovely Lottie.”

“Such a gentleman,” I tease with a playful laugh, trying to remember any of the rules of flirting. It’s been so long.

His eyebrows shoot up toward the fringe of his dark, messy hair. “Hmm…I can be when I want to.”

Jake returns with the drinks and sets them down in front of us, departing with a very visible wink at Hendy.

“To a memorable evening with a beautiful woman.” He hoists his glass off the table and I do the same.

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