Page 9 of Worth the Rush
“Search and Rescue?” she questions. It’s not a nickname I’ve gotten before, but I like it when she calls me it. “What are you even doing here? Did you say teaching a class?” she huffs out, planting her hands on my chest for support while she stands, causing my mind to flash back to the night before.I wouldn’t mind that happening again.I need to get that thought out of my head immediately. I don’t sleep with guests. No matter how beautiful or fiery or—no. It doesn’t matter. She’s off-limits. I may have made that decision last night, but that’s only because I didn’t know she was a guest yet.
She moves to the side, and I stand beside her. I dust off my pants and look over at her. She’s gorgeous. She has her arms crossed over the chest of her purple suit. Her left hip is cocked to the side, and the set of her mouth tells me she’s still riled up.
“I don’t hate the nickname. I’ve been called worse than ‘Search and Rescue,’” I comment.
“So was the getup you were wearing last night part of your pick-up routine? Do you prey on innocent women who get stuck in town often?” she asks in the same bratty tone I’d like to…no.
“Innocent? I think it was you who wanted to hear about myunnecessarylist,” I challenge.
“I remember it being you who mentioned thatlist,”she counters.
“And I remember everything on it that we didn’t get to last night.”
“That’s not the point, hotshot.What are you even doing here?” she asks again.
“I fill in as a snowboard instructor for the resort,” I answer. I don’t tell her that I’m a part owner. I’ve been a partner in the resort for the last ten years. “My full title after all the coursesand training I’ve done is an Alpine EMS Search and Rescue pilot,” I elaborate, then apologize. “I’m sorry I ran into you. There was a kid, one I’m responsible for, rolling down the hill. I was worried they might get hurt,” I explain. At this, she softens a little. “I didn’t see you, though I’m not sure how I missed you in this getup,” I add without thinking.Shit.Wrong thing to say. She’s pissed again.
“Yes, yes. ‘That’s a lot of purple.’ I remember,” she says as she waves a hand in the air. “I thought you weren’t going to be in town very long,” she accuses.
“I did saytechnically.And technically, we’re notintown,” I tell her. “You didn’t exactly say you would be here either,” I shoot back.
“Right.” She half laughs and shakes her head, her red hair falling over her shoulders. “You said you had a class to teach?” She looks over my body then, and I feel exposed even in three layers of snow gear. “So, I’ll let you get to that. I have other things to do,” she states and walks off toward the lodge without a backward glance in my direction. I should tell her that I don’t just teach classes here, that I own this place just to see her squirm, but last night and this morning have been the most fun I’ve had in months. I shake my head and smile again.That purple ski suit.
Coffee.
I’m in desperate need. Water and something vitamin-rich is probably the answer to the never-ending trivia game, “What Does Ivy’s Body Need Today?”—a game I play frequently. But I want coffee. Living with low blood sugar is moderately annoying and sometimes tedious, but it could be worse. At least it’s manageable. Something about me should be.
After waking up alone, I finally bit the bullet when my third alarm went off and made the rest of my drive up to the resort.
“Have a safe trip up the mountain!” Marilyn called as I exited the hotel this morning.
“Thank you, Marilyn. Have a good day!” I replied with a wave, rushing out. I was up at the ungodly hour of five fifteen this morning after last night's exhausting, but in the best way, escapades. I was surprised, and oddly bothered to find the other side of the bed empty and the sheets cool with howearly it was. I sigh. Well, it’s not like I didn’t remind him multiple times that this was a one-time thing. I guess I'm just not used to men listening when I speak. He seemed to though.
I’m reminiscing as I make the drive to my cabin. Thankfully, the main roads have been cleared, and the snow has stopped. In my experience, more times than not, you hit it off with a guy only to find yourself wildly disappointed later that night. Last night, though; I bite my lip at the memory. I saw stars, fireworks. The instant intellectual connection I felt with him absolutely translated into a physical one. I see a sign letting me know I’ve made it to my destination. The Edgemont Ski Resort and Lodge welcomes you! The email on my phone said that I would find my cabin key under the welcome mat. I drive past the main building until I see cabin number four, my new home for the next few months.
Walking inside, I note the cozy couch in the living room and the reading chair in the corner by a wood-burning fireplace. I don’t have as much time to look around as I’d like. I throw one of my bags onto the bed in the back bedroom and grab out the article of clothing I’m most excited to wear. I dress in my favorite ski suit as quickly as I can before running out the door. It probably isn’t necessary for touring the property, but I love it, and it’s my favorite color.
With renewed determination I decide it’s good that I won’t see the man from the bar last night. Even if the conversations we had last night, between our other ventures, were the best I’ve had in years, I shouldn’t be disappointed. That’s not why I’m here. Silverthorne is a stepping stone.
Now I’m walking into the main building here at The Edgemont Ski Resort and Lodge, caffeine and sleep deprived. It’sgoing to be another long day. Lord, help anyone who crosses my path.
“Hello, welcome to The Edgemont Ski Resort and Lodge,” a friendly voice calls as I walk in the double doors. “What can I do for you today?” the man asks.
“Hello. I’m Ivy Rutherford. I?—”
“Ms. Rutherford! Yes, hello! I’m Jack, the operations manager here. We were expecting you last night. Did you make it here okay?” the man interrupts. I may not have made it here last night, but I can’t complain about the pit stop.
“Define…okay.” I smile.
“I’m guessing that means the weather hit you then?”
“It did. I stayed at the charming hotel downtown though. I just made it up here this morning,” I tell him.
“You must be exhausted. Would you like to start our tour later today?” Well, that is a tempting offer, but the sooner we start, the sooner I can get a feel for my task here.
“I’m here now, so if you’re up for it, I’m good to go,” I say.
“Of course. Let me grab my radio, and we’ll head out,” he tells me, reaching behind the counter and pulling out a small walkie-talkie. He clips it onto his belt and extends his hand to me. “It’s nice to meet you.” I take his hand and shake. It’s warm, like his smile. Jack is…undeniably attractive. With slightly graying sideburns and a crinkle-eyed grin, he’s probably a good ten to fifteen years older than me.
