Ivy

N oah showing up with Margot to spend the holidays in the exact town I’ve been banished to wasn’t on my bingo card this year. Honestly, neither was he proposing to her. Or crashing that boat. It was only in the harbor, and it’s not like I sunk it or anything. And then there was the man in Spain who thought I said I knew how to work on his fishing boat. To be fair to Arnesto, I had said that, but only because I wanted to go out on a boat. That was a wild excursion.

After today, we can also add asking a man I barely know to be my fake boyfriend and then unloading my past trauma onto him. Come to think of it, a lot of shit that’s happened this year wasn’t on there, but here we are. Fucking bingo!

My saving grace is Alder. The way he stepped in to help. He’s more observant than I’d given him credit for. I guess you would have to be when you’re in his line of work. I chuckle, sinking deeper into my claw foot tub, thinking about his jab at Noah’s appearance. “Was he your nephew or son?” Alder would have no way of knowing how insecure Noah is about his looks. He isn’t not handsome, but I guess knowing him on a level deeper than…surface has changed how I see him over the years.

He was actually very handsome when we were younger. Dark, thick hair and lashes to match. I was nineteen, freshly out of my first year of college, and looking to piss off my father. He was thirty-two and infatuated with me. Neither of us ever planned for it to go any further than the summer. I think I could have forgiven him for the way he treated me in our marriage because it was never meant to be anything more. I could have forgiven him, but forgiveness isn’t on the table anymore. Not after how he treated my loss.

I take a long sip of my club soda, and then place it on the small wooden stool I pulled over beside me. I need to get out of the water and get some sleep. Having my ex-husband here for the next couple of weeks will make life hard. Pretending Alder and I are together will be harder. As attractive as I find him, I’m uninterested in spending time with anyone seriously these days. I have one goal and one goal only. Get back to California.

Standing, I reach for my towel and wrap it around myself before stepping onto the bathmat. I grab my glass of water and make my way into my bedroom. When I check my phone, there are three missed calls and eight text messages. I’m sure most of the texts are from Sienna, so I toss it back onto the bed and get into my pajamas. Tonight’s set have little Christmas trees and red bows on them. I curl up in my bed and reach for my book. The same book I’ve been meaning to read for the last three weeks but haven’t found the time, and now that I do, I don’t feel like reading. One of the worst feelings in the world is wanting to read and not wanting to read anything .

I decide to check my phone again and open my messages. It turns out six texts are from Sienna, a text and two calls are from my father, and one is from an unknown number. I glance at the one from my father.

Sullivan

Noah will be staying at the resort. Be professional.

I snort at that. Thanks for the heads up, asshole. The last text is the one I focus on, though, one that has me reluctantly smiling. Five words that have my heart pounding a little faster. One nickname that has butterflies erupting in my belly.

Unknown Number

Be ready at 7, princess.

How did you get my number?

I giggle and add his details to my contacts before tossing my phone on the bed beside me. I reach for my book, but it vibrates almost instantly, so I scramble for it in the blankets and open his message. Then I take a breath, trying to settle the butterflies erupting inside me. Calm down, . He’s just a man. I remind myself, not fully believing that, but deny, deny, deny is my go-to.

Lover Boy

I would tell you but…

Then you’d have to kill me?

Lover Boy

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, Stormcloud. That’s so dark. No. Then I’d have to kiss you. Yikes. Have you been watching true crime at night?

I laugh out loud; alone in my bed. Stormcloud . Why do I like that so much?

Maybe. It’s relaxing. So…how did you get my number?

Lover Boy

You don’t remember? I got it from you. The night I wrote the note for the tow truck.

Lover Boy

Relaxing? , we can do better than that.

You remembered my number?

I choose not to ask what other ways he thinks I could be relaxing. I may like his answer too much. That seems to be the theme with him. He lets it go, but I snort at his response.

Lover Boy

I have a photographic memory.

Liar.

Lover Boy

It’s true, at least it is for things I care to remember. It isn’t just reserved for phone numbers either. I spent a night with a redhead a few weeks ago, and this may be more information than you care to know—but I don’t think I could forget a moment of that night even if I tried .

My cheeks heat with a blush. Thankful no one is around to see it; I sink deeper into my bed.

Lucky you.

Lover Boy

You have no idea.

I have some idea.

Now what am I supposed to be ready for at 7 a.m.?

Lover Boy

Our first lesson.

Already?

Lover Boy

I wouldn’t joke about your education.

Lover Boy

Tomorrow’s going to be fun. Get some sleep, princess.

I don’t remember saying I was available.

Lover Boy

You are. I confirmed it with Jack.

Ladies and gentlemen, Alder Holloway—a man with a plan.

Fine.

Lover Boy

Night, . Sweet dreams.

That sweet dreams is where our conversation and my racing thoughts end. I’m asleep in minutes. Haunted by tempting dimples and sapphire eyes that go along with his sarcasm I'm beginning to crave.

Looking out the window from my kitchen, I see that the snow has stopped again. It’s six forty-five in the morning, and I’m drinking coffee in my purple ski suit. The suit seemed appropriate for today. I want to make sure I stay warm, and I also want plenty of layers between me and Alder. The more, the better actually. I don’t know why, but every time he touches me, it feels like I’ve stuck a fork in an electrical outlet. It’s not the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced, in fact, I’m beginning to look forward to it, but I do recognize it’s probably bad for my health.

I take a sip from my mug and sink back into the cozy couch. I haven’t had much time to think about our little arrangement. Now that I am, I think I must have looked like an absolute lunatic. Asking someone, a grown man, a grown man like Alder, to be my fake boyfriend. And he said yes. What does that say about him? Maybe that we shouldn’t be doing this, and especially with each other .

Knocking at the door startles me, and I almost spill the drink I’m clinging to tighter than I realized. Am I nervous? I don’t get nervous over men. I stand and walk my cup to the sink, taking one last long drink before dumping it and answering the door. When I open it, I’m treated to a sight not safe for a friendly snowboarding lesson. Alder Holloway is wearing a slutty crop top with a flannel over it and ski pants. Holy shit. That’s a visual I’ll be revisiting.

“Good morning,” his deep voice rumbles out.

“Good morning,” I greet him, and mine is still thick with sleep.

“Ready to go?”

I nod. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say on a sigh. Grabbing my bag and phone I step out into the dark morning—then immediately slip on the porch. Alder grabs my elbow, steadying me but also sending sparks skittering up my arm.

“Careful, there’s some ice out here this morning,” he tells me gently, still holding my arm in his large hand. I stand up a little straighter and pull my arm back as politely as I can, willing away the heat that a touch from him evokes in me.

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out,” I tell him, looking down to watch where I’m stepping. When I get to his truck, he opens the door for me and makes sure I’m seated before shutting it. He rounds the front of the Bronco and gets in, rubbing his hands together to warm them.

“So, where are we going this morning?” I ask him.

“We’re heading to a favorite spot of mine this morning. It’s great for beginners and has one of the best views in Silverthorne. It’s called Lovers Leap,” he answers with a grin.

“Lovers Leap, huh? Fitting for you, Lover Boy. ”

He smirks and lets out a snort. “It has a great lore. Would you like to hear it?” I can tell he wants to tell me this story.

“How long is the drive?” I ask.

“About thirty-five minutes.”

“Sure, why not? What else have I got to do?”

“Well, don’t sound so excited about it,” he teases.

I clear my throat and then slip into my best Southern-belle accent. “Oh, Alder! Please tell me the story of Lovers Leap! I simply can’t stand to wait another minute!” I exclaim, and he laughs loudly. I want to be inside that sound.

“I reckon I better get on with it then. I wouldn’t want to make a lady wait,” he says back in a lazy cowboy’s drawl. I giggle. Again, with the giggling? I cover my mouth and then wait for the story. He starts to speak, and within the first sentence, I’m completely enraptured.

“This is the legend of Sampson and Nira. There was once a man and a woman who were so deeply in love that it’s said the gods and all their angels were jealous of it. The fates conspired against them, doing everything they could to keep them apart. Nira’s family forbade her from seeing Sampson, telling her that he wasn’t to be trusted. His family was not to be trusted. They snuck out night after night to be with each other. Their love affair was documented only through the carvings they left in a nearby cave. Sampson was ready to leave his family and run away with Nira, so they set a plan into motion. Nira would go to their meeting place early in the day and wait for Sampson. He was supposed to meet her in the afternoon, and they were going to leave their town and find a new place where they could be together. Only the gods refused to let this slide. They sent a snowstorm after the lovers met that evening. The storm was strong, but they were able to wait it out in the cave. The next day, both families came for them, and they were going to force the young couple apart, so they decided they would take their fate into their own hands rather than be forced to live apart. They jumped. Hand in hand off the ridge. When they found their bodies at the bottom of the cliff, they were still holding onto one another, and that’s where the name of the ridge comes from.”

“Lovers Leap,” I whisper.

“Lovers Leap,” he confirms.

“How tragically romantic. It makes me wonder why anyone decided they wanted to fall in love when most of the greatest love stories also end in the greatest tragedies.”

“Do you think falling in love is a choice?” he muses. “It would seem to me that even if it was a choice, anyone who’s ever felt so deeply for someone else would still make the choice to be in love.” He’s staring out the front windshield.

“Yes, well. Most people are idiots,” I tell him, and he tosses his head back with a laugh.

“Jaded,” he accuses, his laugh still coloring his voice. He’s not wrong. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened back in California that brought you to Silverthorne?”

“I do mind, but honestly, it’s more than I want to get into at…” I check my phone. “Seven thirty-five a.m., and I’ve only had one cup of coffee.” I smirk and he reaches behind us into the backseat to pull out a thermos.

“Here. You can have some of mine. Your life story is not required,” he teases me. The thing is, I never want to share my past, what happened in that marriage, but with Alder, I find myself wanting to share more with him than I should. There’s something about him that puts me at ease. I feel safe, and that thought alone makes me nervous .

We come to a stop, and I look around. The sun is starting to lighten the snow around us. “Alright, we’re here. Are you ready for your first lesson, princess?” he asks, and I nod.

“Well, I guess I have to be.” I open the truck door and hop out.

“Before we get started, I want to show you something,” he tells me and puts his hand on the small of my back, gently nudging me forward. After about thirty feet, I open my mouth to ask, “ Are we there yet?” like a bratty teenager when I’m stunned silent.

The view that I’m beholding is one I’ve never thought I would see in real life or even believed was real. The sunlight is streaking the mountains in the most beautiful, brilliant gold I’ve ever seen. It looks like a painting. Like an award-winning photograph that someone spent their life getting just right.

“It’s stunning,” I rasp.

“It is,” he agrees. I don’t take my eyes off the view, knowing that it won’t look like this for long, but I still snipe at him.

“You better not be looking at me, action hero.” He chuckles.

“And if I was?” he challenges.

“I would roll my eyes, but I don’t want to miss this,” I tell him, watching the sun rapidly rise now. I can feel it on my face, and the snow looks like it contains thousands of specs of glitter. I smile. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Anytime. Have you eaten this morning?” I hear him ask from somewhere behind me. I glance back and see him bending over in the snow, looking through a backpack.

“Uh, no. Just the coffee,” I admit.

“Here.” He pulls out a power bar and tosses it to me. It hits me in the chest even after my attempt to catch it, and I’m thankful he didn’t see that. Not that I care all that much what he thinks of me, but shit, I guess I do. This whole day will probably be one that puts all my insecurities on display. Why did I agree to this again? Oh, yes, because he is pretending to be my boyfriend while my ex-husband galivants around the resort with his new fiancée. The turns my life has taken. I unwrap the protein bar and take a bite.

“You know, this isn’t the worst one of these I’ve ever tasted. Most remind me of sweet, gritty cardboard.” I tell him, holding up the bar, and he looks at me smiling.

“I order these specifically for that reason. That and they have twenty grams of protein. That will get you through the lesson until you can get a decent meal in you,” he tells me.

“Thanks, Dad.” I mutter, and he laughs.

“You got it, pumpkin,” he croons sweetly, then I’m laughing with him.

“Oh my gosh, stop. Let’s get this lesson started. What do I need to do?” I ask with my hands on my hips. I have been on a snowboard exactly one time, and it wasn’t exactly for me, but I have to say…my instructor was nowhere near as interesting as Alder.

“We’ll start slow. I just want you to get a feel for the board. Come here,” he orders me. I wish I could say that I didn’t like him ordering me around.

“Can I touch you?” he asks with his hands extended toward my legs.

“Yes,” I say, entirely too fast. He smirks but says nothing about it. He just grips my calf and slides my foot into one of the bindings on the snowboard. He clicks it into place and asks me to stand on it. Once I’m locked in, he has me do a couple of squats while holding onto my hands .

“Okay, now I want you to treat the board like a skateboard and skate around for a minute,” he says.

“Mmhmm. And what makes you think I know how to do that?” I question, and he grins.

“Have you ever seen someone on one? Hold on.” He runs back to his truck and grabs his own board, attaches one foot, and skates over to me. Propelling his front foot on the board forward while kind of scootering his back foot.

“Okay, so like a scooter?” I ask.

“How many times in your life have you been on a scooter, and do you have photos?” he quips, and I shove at his chest, almost tripping over the board I forgot I was strapped into. “Now you try,” he urges, and I do. I skate in a straight line.

“Good,” he comments, and I roll my eyes. “Now, I want you to get comfortable with getting up in case you fall down. Sit back,” he instructs, and I do until my ass hits the snow. He skates over and bends down to strap in my other foot.

“Okay, so first, I want you to reach forward and grab the board between your legs with one hand, and with the other, you’re going to push off the ground.” I do as he says, and my body pops upright. “That’s great. Give me a couple more of those.” I lay back into the snow a couple more times and rise to standing. “Okay, now we’ll practice from our stomachs. I want you to lay back and then grip the board with either hand and pull it with you while you roll onto your belly,” he informs me. Okay. I do, and it takes more effort than I thought it would. Now I’m face down in the snow.

“Now what?” I ask him, a bit muffled and out of breath. Just a little embarrassing. I’m not exactly the picture of health. I’m slim-ish, but I owe that mostly to genetics and mental health walks. I don’t lift weights, and I don’t skip dessert. “Alder?” I call when he hasn’t given any further instructions.

He clears his throat, but his voice still sounds a little hoarse when he answers me. “Yeah, princess. I’m here,” he assures me, and I hear him skate around until he’s right in front of me. “I have to tell you, though, you, in this position, is a little distracting,” he admits, and I flush scarlet. I think the snow under my face may start melting. Remembering that first night in town, I can see why this might jog loose a memory.

“Well, could you please focus? It’s cold,” I snap at him.

“Alright, on your knees, ,” he commands quietly.

My eyes go wide. “What?” I ask, not sure if I heard him correctly.

“You need to slide up onto your knees so you can stand,” he tells me. Oh. “What did you think I meant, princess? Was there something else on your mind?” I want to smash his perfect dimpled smile into the snow.

“If I was, it’s because you put the thought there on purpose,” I blurt.

“Ah, so it’s my fault. I’m the reason you can’t help but objectify me? Victim blaming is not nice, ,” he taunts.

“I’m not nice,” I state, and he cocks his head to the side.

“I would have to disagree with you, but I don’t have time to argue today. We have a lot to get through before the mountain is covered with people, so up you go,” he says while grabbing my shoulders and lifting me like I’m nothing. I’m not all about being dainty and petite, but damn, there’s something about being made to feel delicate that gets me going. There’s a lot about Alder that gets me going. This is going to be a long morning.

After a few more hours of going over the basics, I successfully made it down a bunny hill by myself—with Alder. He didn’t have to help me up once though. Unlike the three times before. It hasn’t been an overabundance of touching, just enough to keep my blood at a simmer and my cheeks perpetually flushed.

“Okay, I think I have one more run in me,” I say.

“Hell yeah, you do,” Alder encourages me. “I think she’s getting a real taste for this,” he comments, and I turn my head so he can’t see the smile I’m fighting. “I don’t mean to brag, but damn, I am such a good teacher,” he boasts, shaking his head like not even he can believe how good he is.

“Oh my god, you are insufferable,” I moan, making my way back up the hill. Actually, Alder is the most not-insufferable man I think I’ve ever met, but his ego doesn’t need that boost—and I don’t mean that in a it’s already so big way. He doesn’t need his ego stroked because he’s extremely self-assured. It’s annoyingly sexy.

“Keep telling yourself that, Stormcloud,” he tuts, sliding by me, so I’m now following him up. Once I reach the top, I find him waiting for me.

“I’ll follow you. Lead the way,” he instructs. I nod, determined.

“Sure,” I agree and start down the hill. I’m really doing it. A smile breaks over my face, and I feel like I'm flying. I’m picking up more speed than I have before, but along with the speed, my confidence is growing as well. Until I get my body too far forward and the nose digs into the snow a bit too much, sending me forward until I narrowly miss face-planting, but throwing myself backward was a severe overcorrection. I hit the ground with a small thud and slide on my back a few feet. Alder’s at my side in seconds .

“? Shit. Are you okay?” His concern is evident. At this, I smile and then replay the fall in my head. A surprised laugh escapes me at the image I’ve conjured. A loud laugh. Completely uninhibited. I’m laughing in earnest when I feel his body flop on the ground next to mine. I have tears running down my face, and my goggles are starting to fog up, so I slide them up onto my head.

“You were really moving there for a minute,” Alder says from beside me. I turn my head to look at him and find his eyes fixed on me. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” he asks.

“My pride took the biggest hit there. My body may be sore, but I’ll make it, hotshot,” I say, unable to keep the smile from my face. This is fun. Maybe the most real fun I’ve had in years. He laughs with me. Not at me. It sends warm fuzzies from the top of my head to my toes. “You’re supposed to tell me it wasn’t that bad,” I chide.

“I’m not a liar, .” He smiles, and then it falters for only a moment before he speaks again. “This is going to be a really great story for the grandchildren one day.” He sighs like he’s imagining it.

“Grandchildren?” I almost yell. “Who said anything about kids? You’re my fake boyfriend, Alder. You’d at least have to be my fake fiancé before I was ready for that,” I tease.

“Who said I was talking about our grandchildren, Ms. Rutherford?” He tsks at me, and I roll my eyes. “You’ve given yourself away again. You are so into me.” He flashes me a self-satisfied grin.

“Keep dreaming, Search and Rescue,” I mutter.

“You couldn’t stop me if you tried,” he says with a wink.

I turn my head from him again and think about that for a minute. I wouldn’t stop him.