Something to Prove. Cathryn Parry

      CHAPTER FOUR

      TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Amanda stood outside the rental shop by the ski lift to the bunny slope. Was she nuts? When she’d come down to the lobby to meet Brody she’d been fully determined to talk him out of his crazy plan. Never in a million years had she intended to actually go through with it.

       And now look at her. Her feet were encased in boots as heavy as Frankenstein’s clunkers, and the skis made a hollow pinging sound when she stomped on them.

       At least Brody had promised they wouldn’t tackle the difficult black diamond slopes. Her knees were shaking. Her hands were sweating inside her gloves, and she’d already dropped her ski poles twice. She was reminded why her ski-coach father had disgustedly given up on her years ago.

       But Brody leaned over, patiently buckling her feet into the bindings on her skis. The one sweet spot in the last twenty minutes was in watching this new side to him. As he leaned over, the muscular curve of his back was visible even beneath his black parka. He glanced up at her, his skin flushed from the cold air, his baby blues on fire, and a longing for something she couldn’t define washed over her.

       “How does that feel, Manda? Are you comfortable?”

       “If you call being strapped into a death contraption comfortable,” she joked.

       His brow crinkled. “What happened to the New Hampshire girl who used to ski as a kid?”

       “She moved to New York and discovered the subway and all-night taxi service.”

       He laughed and straightened, settling his dark, bad-ass sunglasses over his eyes. “Do you ever miss the fresh air? Or does concrete and smog make you happy?”

       “I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t handle it.”

       He smiled and guided her up the gentle slope toward the chairlift, his hand on her elbow. His touch, even through layers of clothing, sent heat flooding through her.

       She had officially lost her mind. “Uh, Brody, I wasn’t lying when I told you I don’t know how to ski anymore. Sorry.”

       He gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her. “You skied before. Once you learn, it never leaves your muscle memory.”

       “Then I must be the exception to the rule.” She hastened to keep up beside him. “Because the only memories I carry in my muscles are typing and the occasional yoga class.”

       “You take yoga?” He gazed at her with interest.

       “Yep.” She nodded proudly. “Downward dog and the warrior pose. That I can do.”

       His mouth quirked. “I’d like to see that.”

       “Great. Then let’s go back to the hotel and forget this skiing stuff.”

       He shook his head slowly but his smile was wide. “Because you think you can’t do it anymore?”

       “I know I can’t. I’m no Jeannie Jensen, you know.”

       He stopped and pointed behind them. “If you can’t ski, Amanda, then what do you call that?”

       She blinked behind them at the dual trail of ski tracks in their wake. They’d covered about forty yards together across the snow. She hadn’t even realized.

       “You grew up in the mountains,” he said. “You don’t lose what was part of you, deep down.” He stamped his skis on the hard-packed snow. “And you can trust my professional opinion, because I’ve taught clinics with newbies in the sport. Some of them can’t go five yards without falling on their duffs. Obviously, you don’t have that problem.”

       She looked behind her again. The skis had shushed beneath her seemingly of their own accord. It had felt…natural. Beside him she’d flowed, without struggling and fighting the way she usually did.

       Could it really be an instinct from a long time ago that had lingered inside her without her even knowing it?

       She fell into silence as Brody helped her along the last few yards, easing her between the ropes of the corral line and distracting her with his dimples.

       She hated to admit that maybe he’d been right.

       But then the heavy clanking of the chairlift machinery drilled into her subconscious, and ever fiber in her body seized up and resisted.

       “Um, no. Just no, Brody.”

       “They have chairlifts in Deanfield, Amanda. I rode them often.”

       “I can’t remember the last time I went up in one of those things. Honestly.” She shook her head. “They’ve been erased from all my memories, muscle and brain.”

       “Then I’ll help you remember.” He guided her to the spot where skiers were supposed to stand, waiting for the chair that would bump beneath their backsides, scooping them onto their seats for the long, cold ride up the mountain.

       “I don’t think so, Brody.” It had been so long since her body knew what to do here. And she was going up the lift with the master of his sport.

       “You’re doing great.” Just as the automated chair brushed against the backs of her thighs, he lifted her effortlessly onto the bench seat. She hadn’t realized she was frozen, stammering, her mouth gaping open.

       He murmured into her ear. “The pain will be worth it, Manda. You’ll see.”

       His warm, sexy breath sent shivers up her spine. Why did he have to have this sweet side to him, too?

       And why did she have to want to be with him so much? She’d talked herself into trying on the rental skis in the first place by convincing herself that it might prove useful with some mythical future article. After all, few people could say they’d skied with the great Brody Jones.

       But she was fooling herself if she thought that was really why she’d followed him out here.

       She blew out her breath as he settled the chairlift bar around them. Reaching across her waist, he gathered her poles, clasping them together with his. “Hang on,” he said. “It’s an old-style lift and it’s going to swing in the wind a bit.”

       She nodded, her teeth chattering, and he tucked his free arm around her, holding her securely. Despite the danger, she felt protected, even as their chair swung and dipped in the air, as though they were riding a roller coaster.

       To her surprise, sensations came flooding back to her from years past, bittersweet in their memories. Feelings and images she must have hidden deep.

       Riding a lift like this one with her mom and sister as a child, Jeannie in the middle seat.

       “I forgot how much I liked this part,” she blurted out. “Starting at the bottom of the hill with the whole journey ahead of us.”

       “Yeah, it’s the anticipation of things