Page 61 of A Little Too Late
“Oh, wow.”
“Yeah. That’s the family myth, anyway.”
“So they never speak. And now you think this Block guy is going into business with Team Sharpe?”
“Seems like it. Block owns a huge tract of land on the Main Street side of the mountain. When I was a kid, my parents approached Block about doubling the size of the skiable terrain, by—”
“—putting a ski lift in town,” she says, finishing my sentence. “I heard about this once in the canteen. Thought it was a cool idea.”
“It’s the only way to grow the resort. The only way my family could ever think of. But Block wouldn’t sell us the land.”
“And now someone else has the same idea,” Ava says.
“Maybe. I guess we’re about to find out.”
The car grows silent again as Ava broods in the other seat. I feel guilty. As if her sadness is all my fault. “Ava, are you okay?”
“Yes. Sort of? I don’t know.”
Ouch. “Is it, uh, work related? Or am I the asshole here?”
She groans. “It’s complicated, Reed. Everything was simple until Tuesday. And now it’s not. That is more or less your fault.”
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “Okay.”
Ava is right. I came to Colorado to help. I meant well.
Now it might all blow up in my face.
CHAPTER 23
SCARY MOVIES START LIKE THIS
AVA
Fifteen minutes later, Reed steers my Subaru down a quiet road just past the center of town. Snow accumulates quickly on the windshield, and Reed has to run the wipers in order to see where he’s going.
Then he drops his speed and douses the headlights, so we’re driving through the dark.
“Omigod!” I squeak. “There are scary movies that start like this!”
Reed chuckles. “There’s a half moon. I can see fine.”
After my eyes adjust to the dark, I have to admit that it’s true. I’m honestly not afraid for my life. I’m in a warm car with a hot guy I never quite got over.
A hot guy who has meveryconfused.
Even worse, it’s just dawning on me that—outside of last night’s fun in the bedroom—stalking a trio of Texan businessmen is the most excitement I’ve had in alongtime.
What does that say about my life? Nothing good.
Reed eases the car into a parking lot beside an attractive but utilitarian building. It’s a big garage, full of tractors, each in its own stall, tucked behind an arched doorway. He cuts the engine.
“Um, Reed?” I whisper. “This place looks deserted, and I don’t see your SUV.”
“Block’s house is the next building over. Let’s walk from here.”
Oh. Duh.
