Page 1 of Wedding Bet

1

JAMIE

I’d only been in the Rocky Mountains for an hour, and already, I knew I’d royally screwed up.

“I look like a marshmallow,” I told my brother Chase over the phone. I turned around in the light and watched myself in the camera, frowning at the screen. “Tell me why I chose a white puffy jacket, again? And can you go back in time and slap me for choosing a white one?”

“It looks good with your eyes,” he said, peering at me through the video chat. “Makes the blue pop. And you got it because it was the only one on sale.”

“Right. Because no one else wanted it,” I said. “It’s colder than a popsicle out there, though, so I’m going to need it.”

I was in a hotel room that was fancier than anywhere I’d ever been in my life. The lamps were gold-colored, there were old paintings on all of the walls, and there had been an assortment of fine local Colorado chocolates on the pillow when I’d walked in. I sure as fuck couldn’t afford it, but I’d gone all out, treating myself because everybody always said I never did.

I picked up a napkin sitting on the side table, tracing my thumb over the gold impressions around its border and the resort name at the top.

“Iknowyou only picked this ski resort because of its name.”

Chase groaned. “Why does everyone keep telling me that?”

“Chase. It’s calledSnowcock Ski Resort.”

“So what?”

I paused, giving him a look over the video call. “Snowcock. Ski. Resort.Snow, cock.”

My brother’s radiant smile came across the screen a moment later. “Okay, so Adam and I didslightlyprefer it to the other ones, but it’s not just because it’s called Snowcock, okay?”

“Where does that name even come from?” I asked. “I can picture the owners now, sitting in a room with cigars and brandy years ago, laughing about calling their ski resort Snowcock. I’m sure they knew it would get all of the people like you to come here.”

“Snowcock is the name of a mountain bird, thank you very much,” Chase said, holding up a finger.

“So you like it because you’re such a bird lover, huh?”

“Oh, hell, no,” Chase said. “I love snow. And cock, for that matter.”

We both laughed, and I pulled in a slow breath, taking in the lavish room again. “I am happy to be here atSnowcock. Even if I’m going to freeze all of my limbs off by the end of the week.”

“You’re going to love it,” Chase said. “I give it three hours before you’re in love with the snow.”

“Not going to happen,” I said. My brother was lovely and kind, but he’d moved to this frigid-ass place years ago, and he’d never been as much of a beach bum as me. “I wonder what the temperature is like in Stellara right now.”

Chase and I were from Stellara Beach, California, born and raised. On the video call I saw Chase lean over, checking thetemperature app on his phone. “It’s apparently… seventy-five and sunny over there.”

“You just had to have awinter wedding,” I teased him. “You always have to be different, don’t you?”

He smiled. “God, I’m so excited you’re actually here,” Chase said. “Adam and I are arriving there at the ski resort in a few hours. Your room looks fucking sweet, dude.”

Chase lived here in Colorado, about an hour further down the mountains toward Denver. He’d been planning his wedding for a year, and he and his fiance Adam had chosen one of the most beautiful ski lodges in the state. Up here, it wasallfancy ski lodges and snow.

But I’d do anything for Chase. It was only the second time in years that I’d actually taken a vacation, and I never would have made it if it wasn’t for his wedding. I’d pinched pennies to visit him in Colorado before, and I had thought it was freezing even when I visited last fall.

I’d never evenseensnow until today, when I got out of the cab in the mountains to see a blanket of snow over everything in sight.

“You’ll enjoy the resort,” Chase said.

“I’m going to head downstairs to try and find the bar soon,” I told Chase, taking my cell phone with me as I walked. I left the hotel room and meandered down the long hallway toward the gleaming elevator bay. “By the way, you didn’t tell me that people who look like billionaires hang out in ski lodges.”

“That’s why it isn’t just a ski lodge, it’s a skiresort,” he clarified with a flourished, fake British accent. “The managers made sure to tell us that many times when we were booking the wedding.”

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