Ivy

C offee.

I’m in desperate need. Water and something vitamin-rich is probably the answer to the never-ending trivia game, “What Does ’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 how early 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’s going 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 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.

“Down the hall over there are the offices,” he says, pointing behind me. “I can show you those when we get back from walking the grounds.”

“Sounds good. Where to first?”

“I thought we would start with each variety of cabin we offer and go from there.”

“Perfect. Lead the way,” I say, gesturing toward the glass doors.

After Jack’s small tour, I walk the property on my own, looking for inspiration as well as anything that can be improved upon. It’s beautiful here. I didn’t want to admit it, but even in my sleep-deprived state this morning, I found this resort to be incredibly charming, just like the other places I’ve been in the fourteen hours I’ve been here. The cabins are all so picturesque, mine included.

From all that I’ve observed, this place runs like a well-oiled machine. I haven’t seen any unhappy guests. The lodge is simple and tasteful. There are a few things that need some updating, but that was to be expected. The vintage feel of the Edgemont is special. So I plan to lean into that. Starting with a gift shop. The missed opportunity to have branded merchandise for sale is the biggest issue I’ve come across.

It’s nearing lunchtime, but I need to check out a class that’s being offered. My stomach growls as if it just heard me thinking about making it wait for food. No coffee, no sleep, now no food. My body is going to be so pissed at me. I don’t need to check my blood sugar level to know that I’m cutting it close. I’m walking down the back steps of the main lodge, looking out over the bunny hills. The snow is so bright out here. I spot a group of small children and walk toward the bottom of the hill where they look to be heading. Some more gracefully than others. I chuckle to myself as I watch a couple of them pick up some speed.

I’m midway to where I saw the group starting to gather, and I’m jonesing for a coffee so badly I think it’s giving me a headache. That or the lack of food. I glance back at the cabin, contemplating if I can make a quick enough run. Could I make it back in time for this class if I hurry? Probably not, if I’m being honest; I’m not much of a runner. The question becomes moot when I’m hit. Hard. By something hard. And warm? I feel hands on my waist, twisting me around, and then we’re falling. Am I being attacked? I land chest-to-chest with my assailant. I’m not sure if that’s the right word yet, but I’m readying myself for a fight if I need to. The air rushes out of me in a harsh groan on impact.

This is absolutely not what I need today. Sitting up, I bring my right knee up and press it into my—attacker? But when I get a good look at him, I can see it’s the man who was standing at the bottom of the bunny hill with the kids’ gear a few moments ago. What the hell? The class instructor? He’s caught me at a bad time, and I’m not known for biting my tongue. I go to lay into him when he blurts out maybe the last thing I would imagine him to say.

“That’s a lot of purple,” he says, a little dazed, after my initial What the hell? I see red. I’m not even sure what I’m saying after a couple of minutes, but then he smiles at me. What the fuck is wrong with this guy? And what’s wrong with me that I might find the very firm body beneath me attractive? I’m beyond annoyed. At him, this situation, but ultimately, myself.

Hungry, in need of caffeine, in need of sleep. The perfect storm that he isn’t prepared for.

After I let loose on him, he slides his goggles up onto his head. And are you kidding me right now? The man from last night? “Search and Rescue?” The nickname slips out. “What are you doing here?”

He speaks, and even though he’s right in pointing out that I’m still on top of him, the smug way he does it puts a bitter taste in my mouth. Not to mention, his breath smells like coffee. He brings up my outfit again, and I want to shove him back to the ground when he stands after me. We both dust off the snow that’s sticking to us. I’m ready to leave now. Not just this resort. I’m ready to leave Silverthorne. I’m ready to leave Colorado. I’m not meant to be here.

“So, was the getup you had on last night part of your pick-up routine? Do you prey on innocent women who get stuck in town often?” I snap.

“Innocent? I think it was you who wanted to hear about my unnecessary list,” he accuses.

I cock my hip out and fold my arms over my chest. He’s got some nerve. “I remember it being you who mentioned that list.”

“And I remember everything on it that we didn’t get to last night,” he says suggestively. Oh, believe me, so do I, action hero, I think, and then snap myself back to the present.

“That’s not the point, hotshot. What are you even doing here?” I redirect him back to my original question.

“I fill in as a snowboard instructor for the resort. My full title after all the courses and training I’ve done is an Alpine EMS Search and Rescue pilot,” he answers, then says, “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,” he tells me, and I thaw. Slightly. I hadn’t seen the kid falling. “I didn’t see you, though I’m not sure how I missed you in this getup,” he comments, and any thawing his earlier explanation caused is frozen solid once again. Jerk.

“Yes, yes. ‘That’s a lot of purple.’ I remember,” I say, flinging my hand in the air. “I thought you weren’t going to be in town very long,” I accuse.

“I did say technically . And technically, we’re not in town.” He gives me his flimsy reasoning. “You didn’t exactly say you would be here either,” he accuses right back.

“Right,” I huff out. “You said you had a class to teach. So, I’ll let you get to that. I have other things to do,” I bite out, turning on my heel, and make a beeline for the main lodge. Shit, shit, shit. Not only is Search and Rescue a resident in Silverthorne, but he’ll be here at the lodge, seemingly under my employ. Coffee. Immediately or this day will be going from bad to worse quickly.

Inside, I walk down the hallway that Jack showed me earlier and find a freshly brewed pot of coffee. Thank God. I think an espresso machine will be my first act of service as the hospitality manager. I take a sip. That’s pretty good. I grab my jar of candied grapefruit peels I left in here earlier and look around. It’s quiet back here. Walking further down the hallway, I spot a cozy-looking office with an extremely large window—and a couch. I’m not sure which office is mine, but after I see that, I know I’m moments away from sitting there. I just need to sit down for a minute. Rest up for the staff meeting in about forty-five minutes. I sit the jar beside me and lean back into the plush cushions.

Voices getting louder rouse me from sleep. Sleep? Oh, shit. I’ve fallen asleep. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself an alarm doesn’t need to be set. It always does.

“I haven’t seen her since I showed her around this morning,” I hear a man say. Jack, I think. “I’m going to check the front desk,” he tells someone else, and I try to clear my fuzzy thoughts.

“She wouldn’t have gone out on her own, would she?” another voice calls. A voice I have become intimately acquainted with when its owner was telling me dirty things last night, and it sounds like it’s getting closer. I sit up. Shit. Not again. Fatigue and fog still cling to me, but I stand up anyway. That was a mistake. The room spins, and my vision turns to static. There’s a breeze. Inside? I hear someone curse. Then warmth and a scent that’s comforting and familiar wraps around me. It all goes black.

It could have been seconds or minutes when I come to. I open my eyes to meet a pair of blue ones. Really blue. Pale, like I imagine a glacier would look.

“Those eyes are the prettiest shade of blue I’ve ever seen,” I blurt out. Shit. That’s going to be a thing.

“Yeah?” His question comes with a raise of his dark-blond eyebrow and a smile. Ugh, is that a fucking dimple out again? “Thanks, princess.” He calls me that again, and the attraction fades slightly into annoyance. “How you feeling?” he asks, then adds, “We should probably stop meeting like this.”

“I’m fine. Thanks for breaking my fall,” I rasp. Well, doesn't my voice sound nice and breathy?

“Again,” he adds, and I narrow my eyes.

“Yes. At least this time, you weren’t—” I’m cut off.

“Plowing into you?” he asks, using my earlier words against me. The look on his face and suggestive tone elude to more than an innocent run-in. I squirm. Realizing I’m still lying across his lap, I sit up. The motion once again makes me dizzy. Warm hands gently grip my shoulders, and that’s annoyingly comforting. “Easy there,” he murmurs.

“Okay, let’s not speak to me like I’m a feral animal,” I reply between clenched teeth. His deep, relaxed chuckle skitters up my spine. He stands and slowly pulls me to my feet. “Thank you,” I relent.

“Anytime.” Hmm…

“Have you seen a jar with orange strips in it?” I ask while looking back at the couch. He steps to the side and bends to pick the small jar off the floor.

“This?” he asks and holds it out to me.

“Yes.” I open it and eat two sugar-coated citrus strips. This isn’t the best thing to get my blood sugar up, but it’ll have to do because I forgot to grab a juice. Or eat anything. After chewing them quickly I look over at him staring at me. Then I remember that I don’t know why he’s back here.

“What are you doing in here?” I ask, a little accusingly. His head tilts to the side before answering.

“In my office?” He pauses. “I wasn’t sure I needed a reason. I am curious why you’re in here, though, not that I’m complaining.” He’s teasing me, but shit. This is embarrassing. “And not to sound like one of the three bears, but it looks like someone’s been sleeping on my couch,” he says in a way that has me clenching my jaw. I couldn’t have chosen anyone else’s couch. I try to think of something to say, anything that would let me save a little face. Footsteps in the hall save me from my floundering.

“Ms. Rutherford! There you are! It looks like you’ve met our?— ”

“Snowboarding instructor,” Alder cuts in. “We met briefly this morning.” he says to Jack and then turns to me. “Have we met before? I feel like we might have,” he asks me pointedly. I scowl and also flush with a fresh wave of annoyance.

I pretend to think for a second. “Sorry, I don’t think so. Must not have been that memorable,” I claim as innocently as possible. The reality of our current situation is that I got my socks knocked off last night, and he absolutely got his world rocked.

“Alder, this is Ms. Rutherford, our new hospitality manager,” Jack says, walking into the small office. I look back to Alder, and he’s looking at me, both brows raised in surprise now. Well, it looks like we’re both a little caught off guard.

“You’re the new hospitality manager?” His question doesn’t give me the impression he’s happy about this development. Well, back at you. I clear my throat and stick out my hand between us.

“ Rutherford,” I say my own name and hate it.

“Alder Holloway,” he replies, retaining eye contact while taking my hand in his. His warm, calloused hand wrapping around mine sends a pulse up my arm. I feel lightheaded again, and it’s not from the low blood sugar.

“Nice to meet you.” Thankfully, my voice comes out much steadier than I feel. He smirks. Damn, and there’s that dimple I can see through the scruff on his face.

“Nice to meet you too, .” My name on his tongue makes me think I’d like to hear him say it again. How unfortunate that we’ll be working together. I pull my hand back, and my fingers slip through his. The sensation fades, and I don’t know whether it’s my blood sugar returning to a normal level or the loss of contact, but I’m slowly feeling less fuzzy .

“Now that introductions are out of the way, how has your day been, ?” Jack cuts through the tension I’m feeling, and I’m grateful for it.

“It’s going really well. Thanks, Jack. The property is beautiful, and I’m excited to implement a few ideas to increase revenue and improve customer experience,” I tell him. His smile turns worrisome, so I rush to reassure him. “Everything you’ve done here is great, and I’m not looking to come in and mess up anything anyone has worked hard on. I just have a few ideas to add to what you’ve already created.” He seems slightly mollified by this.

“That sounds great, Ms. Rutherford. We can’t wait to hear more,” he tells me, and I believe him. Jack is a charmer, but I’m not interested in anything more here. He may become a friend, and that’s really all I’m in the market for.

“Please, call me ,” I insist, and we smile at each other in camaraderie. Alder’s throat clearing has us both turning back to him.

“Well, if that’s all you need me for today, Jack. I think I’ll be on my way,” he says this to Jack without looking at me. It gives me a chance to study him. It’s probably a bad idea. He’s as gorgeous as he was in the bar’s dim lighting. That feels unfair. Wavy dark-blond hair and a jaw that could cut fucking glass. The scruff on said jaw is—unfortunately, still very attractive. Broad shoulders, and how tall is he? How had I not noticed last night? six foot three? six foot four? He’s really not my brand of heroin, but I have a feeling this man is everyone’s drug of choice. Shit. I’m thinking in Twilight references again.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” he asks Alder. He sounds confused, which makes me feel confused. Why would he want to stay for this ?

“Nah, I need to get going,” he replies.

“Of course. I’ll see you in a couple days. Thanks for filling in on your day off,” Jack tells him.

“No worries,” he says easily, then dips his chin at me. “,” he says my name instead of goodbye. I like the sound of my name coming out of his mouth too much. I nod my head and give him a tight smile.

“Alder. I look forward to working with you,” I say, and he grins at that. Looking amused as he walks out his office door, my interaction with him leaves me feeling unsettled, fidgeting with the lid on my candy jar. I’m not sure what’s amusing to him, but I have a feeling I wouldn’t think the same.