One Frosty Night. Janice Kay Johnson
his hat. “That,” she told him, “is why I plan to stick to my sled.”
“Yeah, but you’ve got to crash. What’s the fun if you don’t?”
Carson grinned at her, too. “Tall girls aren’t afraid of crashing, are they?”
Man and boy let her go next. She steered herself right down the center of the hill, laughing in exhilaration the whole way, despite watering eyes and a face so cold her nose had gone numb. Oh, she’d missed doing things like this!
Inevitably Ben suggested they take a run together on the sled.
“Why not?” Olivia said recklessly. “Only who gets to steer?”
His face came vividly alive when he laughed. “Let’s review. Which of us is the careful driver?”
“I haven’t had a ticket in—” Oops. Seeing Carson’s shocked expression, she said, “Um, quite a while.”
“Right. I’m steering. Besides—” he gave her another rakish grin “—if you’re in back, you wouldn’t be able to see.”
“I could sit in front and steer.” If she could forget being in Ben Hovik’s arms for the first time in forever. Okay, not really in his arms, but...close enough.
Ben sat down first and waited while she gingerly lowered herself on the sled, hesitated, then gave up and wrapped her arms around his thighs to hold on. Even through his quilted pants, she felt his muscles tighten as if in response. He took a good grip of the rope, Carson gave them a running push and they were off.
The rush of cold air and exhilaration were there this time, too. Hearing the rumble of Ben’s laugh, feeling his rough cheek brush hers as he looked over her shoulder, made her heart do some stupid gymnastics.
The sled had just started to slow when he yanked hard on one side of the rope and steered them straight at a snowbank.
“What are you doing?” she yelled.
Wham. They both went flying, their bodies tangled together.
She ended up sprawled on top of Ben. For just a moment, she went utterly still, looking down at him. Past and present overlaid like transparencies. His face thinner, more boyish, but the laugh, oh so much the same. Crinkles beside those espresso-dark eyes that didn’t used to be there. His mouth, more sensual now. A look on his face, both familiar and...not. The hunger was there, but something else, too.
She had to struggle for resolve but found it. I am not doing this. Remember?
His expression changed as she scrambled to get off him. “Olivia...”
“You did that on purpose,” she snapped.
Ben sat up. “Yeah, I did. Is that so bad?”
“Ugh. Now I’m wet.”
He rose a lot more lithely than she had and began to brush her off. “No, you’re not. The snow is pretty dry.”
And she was behaving badly. It wasn’t like he’d tried to kiss her or anything.
But he was thinking about it.
The part that had her panicked was that she’d been thinking about it, too. And she knew maybe she was being unreasonable. Yes, he’d broken her very young heart, but he’d been very young, too. How many high school romances actually endured?
Autumn and Joe’s had.
But how happy were they? Olivia had no idea, only that they were still together. But neither of them had wanted to leave town for four years of college.
Realizing she was doing nothing but standing there, staring at Ben, Olivia couldn’t help thinking, I could just as well have ended up breaking his heart, once I left for school. That was reality.
So...why did he scare her so much?
“That was fun,” she said, trying to sound natural. “Until you crashed us on purpose, anyway.”
His face relaxed. “For old times’ sake.”
“Last time I let you steer,” she declared.
He chuckled, a deep, slow sound that made her shiver. “You can steer anytime,” he assured her, and it was not riding on the sled she pictured.
Not going there, she reminded herself, but this time she wasn’t convinced.
* * *
OLIVIA WASN’T THE first to arrive at work Monday morning; Lloyd Smith’s Chevy pickup was in its familiar slot. He beat her there almost every morning. She didn’t know what she’d have done without Lloyd. The hardware business, she knew. Lumber, not so much, given that Dad hadn’t added the lumberyard yet when she had worked for him. She’d have been in trouble trying to run that side without Lloyd.
The alley had been plowed, thank goodness, or they’d have both had to take up parking slots on the street. Even so, she slipped and almost fell on her way to the back door.
“Ugh,” she mumbled, unlocking and entering. Snow had been way more appealing yesterday, when it was fresh. And, oh yeah, when she was playing in it with Ben.
Only a few of the lights were on. She turned on the rest as she went, including the Christmas lights strung along the eaves in front and the lights on the tree in the window. She did this even though she was dreading Christmas and would have preferred to skip the decorations this year here at the store as well as at home.
Home.
No, she wouldn’t think about it, not right now.
Finally, she stopped to crank up the thermostat, too. The vast, barnlike building did not hold heat well.
The cluster of offices was in the loft: Lloyd’s, her father’s—at least temporarily hers—and the bookkeeper’s. Olivia smelled coffee even before she reached the top of the staircase. Bless his heart, she needed another cup this morning.
He must have heard her footsteps, because he stood in his doorway waiting for her. His keen eyes searched her face. “No trouble getting into town?”
“Nope. Ben Hovik and his son came out and helped me shovel our driveway yesterday,” she said, keeping her tone casual. “Otherwise, the roads were all plowed.”
“You and your mom holding up okay? Anything new?” he asked gently.
She realized that, one way or the other, she and Lloyd had missed each other the past several days.
“Mom has already decided to sell the house,” she told him. Everyone would know soon. Hard to hide a for-sale sign in the front yard. “I didn’t know what to say. She’s...not herself,” Olivia said slowly, and that was the truth.
Well, part of the truth anyway.
“I’m sorry,” Lloyd said, in that same kind voice, and this time she nodded and did succeed in smiling, if tremulously.
“We’ll get through it.”
“Sure you will.” He cocked his head. “Sounds like Stu’s here.”
“Somebody is,” she teased, despite the darkness of her mood. They had this conversation almost every morning. He was ridiculously good at identifying vehicles sight unseen from the sound of the engines, and Olivia gave him a hard time when he was wrong. This time she frowned, realizing it was a car engine she was hearing. “He hasn’t driven his truck in forever. What’s happened to it? Do you know?”
“All he’ll say is it needs work.”
Stuart Dodd’s pickup had been his pride and joy. A Ford F-250, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of years old.
“Shouldn’t it still be under warranty?”
Lloyd shook his head. “No idea. He’s