Matchmaker

Lane becomes comfortable

Lane

I shrieked in terror. "I can't stop!"

"I've got you," Bryant said, grabbing my arm and trying to steady me.

It didn't help. My skis went nutsy... again. One crossed over the other as I tried to plow as he instructed, causing me to run over his skis, and down we went... again. The falls didn't actually hurt, but I was terrified. I felt uncoordinated and out of control. I couldn't control where my skis went, I couldn't stop, and I couldn't steer. The only thing I was good at was falling. I was really good at falling, owing to all the practice I got.

He lay in the snow unmoving. For a fraction of a second I thought he was injured, but then he rolled over to look at me. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were simply finding a reason to have a tumble with me. If that's what you want, all you have to do is ask."

I grinned at him. I'd been with him for most of three days and was learning he would say anything, but he was so damned charming when he did, I couldn't stay mad at him.

"You said this was the practice slope!"

"It is the practice slope. A ball wouldn't roll down this hill."

I glared at him in frustration. "Help me up," I said, holding out my hand.

He stood with such ease and grace it pissed me off, took my hand, and pulled me upright. As I got my skis under me, I began to slide, ran into his leg, and we fell again. This time one of my skis came off and slowly slid down the hill to add insult to injury. He'd set my bindings very light so I wouldn't twist an ankle or knee, but this was the first time I'd lost a ski.

"Perhaps we should try tennis," he suggested, laying in the snow and looking at me.

"I thought I liked snow," I grumbled.

He rose to his feet. "Up you go," he said as he pulled me up. Being able to stand on my ski-less foot made things a lot easier. "Let's go get your ski."

I slid and walked the ten or fifteen feet to where my ski stopped. The damn thing wouldn't even slide down the hill on its own, but I was falling on my ass ever six feet. I snapped my foot back into the binder.

"Ready to try again?" he asked.

"Wouldn't you rather do this without me?"

He grinned. "Not at all. I rather enjoy having you bouncing on me."

I snickered as I shuffled to the tow rope that slowly pulled us beginners to the top of the small slope. Tuesday, the day after we'd arrived, we'd gone shopping. I'd been aghast at the money he'd spent getting me outfitted for skiing. He seemed to know exactly what he was looking for and I deferred to his expertise. Twenty-six hundred dollars and three hours later, I had everything I needed, from skis, to boots and ski suit, to poles and goggles. I even had a bright blue beanie with a pom-pom on top I wore under my helmet.

After my booty was loaded into the back of the Ranger Rover, we'd searched for the best Mexican restaurant in Telluride where we'd ordered tacos, both the hard and soft variety. I personally thought the tacos where merely passible, but Bryant had gushed over them.

After lunch we'd shopped for food stuffs. I don't think he'd ever been in a grocery store before, and he walked along beside me, adding things to the basket that caught his attention. By the time we reached the checkout we had enough food we might not have to shop again.

We'd returned to the chalet where we made multiple trips up and down the steps to haul our supplies in from the car. I thought we were done for the day, but we went back out to shop for clothes. He bought enough clothes for himself to last at least two weeks, and he was one of the few men I'd ever met that appeared to enjoy shopping. He'd also bought enough clothes for me to last a week before I put my foot down and said no more. He insisted the clothes were a gift and wouldn't accept no for an answer, but he'd finally stopped when he could tell I was getting more and more annoyed. I didn't want his 'gifts.' He couldn't buy me, and I didn't want to give him cause to think he could. Besides, had he not stopped he was going to bankrupt me. I had no use for the skis after I left, but the clothes I could wear. He had good taste and had selected outfits I could dress up or down to serve as work clothes or evening on the town, along with a few more casual outfits.

As we were walking back to the Range Rover, loaded with packages, he'd decided he wanted a pretzel from a street vendor. I was aghast that he'd handed the man a hundred-dollar bill for a four-dollar pretzel and had walked way without waiting for change. I simply couldn't wrap my head around that kind of money. I probably shouldn't have worried about the money he'd spent on me, but I did. He probably spent more on dinner than he had for my clothes, but it still bothered me, and I didn't like feeling beholden to him.

That night I prepared real tacos. He'd managed not to cut himself with the knife as he shredded lettuce and diced a tomato. I'd smiled in pleasure as he ate four, proclaiming he had to have the recipe for his cook. I'd written it down for him, and he disappeared to his room with it to put into his suitcase.

That night we'd enjoyed a rousing game of foosball on the table in the basement. We were equally terrible at the game, but that was what made it fun. I worried about spending a half-month's salary on ski equipment, plus nearly a thousand more on clothes, but yesterday had been fun.

Today, not so much.

We reached the top of the slope, such as it was, and I released the rope. I stomped through a slow turn until I was pointed down the hill again, holding myself with my poles so I didn't start sliding down.

"Ready?" he asked.

"No."

He chuckled. "Fronts together, knees bent inward. Here we go..."

I gave myself a little push with my poles to start moving. At first, I was thrilled that I was holding my speed, but as the slope increased, I began to accelerate. I tried to put more angle on the skis so they'd bite harder into the snow, but it wasn't working. Bryant must have seen my rising panic because he zoomed up beside me and took my arm to slow me down. Just like last time, the drag on one side pulled me off balance, my skis crossed, but I whipped around in front of him so quickly I didn't even have time to shriek in surprise. He grabbed me and pulled me protectively into his chest as he tried to save his balance, but we went down in a tangle of arms and legs. We rolled once before coming to a stop, me pinned to his chest as he lay on his back in the snow.

"That was certainly unexpected," he said, a warm smile pulling on his lips as he continued to hold me.

"This isn't nearly as much fun as you led me to believe."

"Really? I'm having a grand time," he said, his embrace strong and steady.

"I need to get up."

"I think I already am."

I couldn't help it and giggled. "Are you sure you're not grabbing my arm to pull me down on purpose?"

"No, but it's not a bad idea now that you mention it."

I thought about kissing him, but it was too weird, out here in the snow with people slow sliding past or falling all around us.

"Look out!" a voice yelled. I looked up and could see a panicked woman bearing down on us. Bryant quickly rolled away, clearing the woman's path, but we weren't quick enough, and she fell in almost the exact spot we'd been laying.

"Good heavens!" he said, rolling off me and getting to his feet. He really pissed me off with how easily he could get up. "Madam? Are you okay?" he asked as he offered his hand.

The woman took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. She was a little older than me, but she clearly took care of herself. Her boobs were easily visible in her form fitting snow bunny suit. She slipped and slid a bit before throwing herself into Bryant's arms. I knew just how she felt, but I didn't like the way she was hanging on him and pressing her breasts against him.

"Sorry. Still learning," she breathed.

"No need to apologize. We shouldn't have been lying there. You're sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She took a step back, but her feet started sliding and she threw herself into his arms again. "Oops!" She smiled up at him, and I felt the green monster peeking out of his box as I sat in the snow. Even I wasn't as incompetent at this b***h, and that was saying a lot.

"I've been watching you. You're clearly too good for this slope. Are you an instructor?" she asked.

"No, nothing like that."

"Oh," she said, her face falling. "Well, would you consider giving me a few pointers anyway? I'd be ever so grateful."

"Sure."

As he showed her how to plow, I struggled to my feet. I couldn't believe he was falling for her fake damsel in distress routine. I started down the hill, my teeth and skis grinding as I slowly made my way toward the bottom. The slope was starting to flatten when Bryant flashed past and skidded to a stop beside me.

"You're doing great!"

"Finish your lesson?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact." I grunted as I slowed to a stop. He smiled at me. "Are you jealous?"

"Absolutely not."

"She asked if you were my girlfriend."

"What did you tell her?" I asked as I huffed and shuffled across to the tow rope.

"I told her no." It was a true statement, but it still hurt my feelings a little. "She invited me back to her place to discuss some private lessons."

My lips thinned in annoyance. He was starting to remind me a lot of Nick, the asshole. "What did you tell her?"

"I asked her if she knew how to make tacos."

I paused and looked at him, his face a portrait of innocence. "Can she?"

"No."

I looked away so he wouldn't see me smile as I reached the rope and grabbed it, allowing it to pull me back up the hill. When we reached the top, I released the rope and began working my way over to a clear place.

"Wait until you see what I cook for you tonight," I said as I started down the slope.

I worked the slope for a couple more hours until I could get all the way to the bottom without falling, and my legs began to ache. By the time we had our gear stowed and I'd peeled out of my ski suit, my legs were killing me.

"I'm going to die!" I moaned as I hobbled out of my room.

I could hear water rushing in his bathroom, but he was in the kitchen. "Here."

"What?"

"Something to help with the discomfort. Ibuprofen, a glass of wine, and a warm bath." I took the two tablets and the wine and downed them as he disappeared. I heard the water shut off and then he appeared again. "Your bath is ready."

"That's my bath?"

"It certainly isn't mine." I watched him a moment. "Come, come," he said, waving his arm. "The water is getting cold. I won't even look. Bring the wine," he said when I put my glass down.

I hobbled into his bath. The garden tub was full of water. He must have put something in the water because I could detect a hint of jasmine in the air.

"The water will help relax the muscles," he said, handing me a towel.

He stepped out of the room, and I undressed and settled into the water with a sigh. The bathroom wasn't overly large, but with heated floors, a view of the peaks from a tub almost big enough to do laps in, and of course, more beautiful wood, it was a nice place to spend time. Especially since the warm water felt so good. I don't know how long I soaked, but long enough for him to appear and top off my glass. I'd covered myself as he did, but he didn't appear overly curious about my goods.

As the water cooled, I finally decided I'd soaked enough. I could still feel the ache in my legs, but between the water, the wine, and the drugs, I was feeling much better. I struggled out of the tub, dried, and then wrapped a towel around me until I could get to my room. There I changed into something comfortable, my blue PJs with Accountants Excel in Bed splashed across the front.

"Better?" he asked as I appeared from my bedroom. He was sitting in front of the large stone fireplace, a glass of something amber in his hand.

"I think."

"Want to go out for dinner?"

"Dressed like this?" I asked, waving a hand over my attire.

He smiled. "If you like. Maybe you'll start a new fad."

"We have so much food, we're never going to eat it all."

We worked in the kitchen as we kept up a steady patter as I gave him simple tasks to do. My annoyance with him over Boobsy the Busty Snow Bunny had faded. Other than a couple of good night kisses, Bryant hadn't touched me, or even tried to touch me. I appreciated that he wasn't trying to force me into anything, making me feel uncomfortable, or implying I owed him anything. He was being a gentleman, and I suppose I couldn't hold it against him for being a gentleman to everyone, even Boobsy, who had obviously been interested in a little personal help from him. In his defense, he'd only spent two or three minutes with her before rejoining me, and he'd seemed fixated on me the entire time on the slope, other than those two or three minutes.

I could cook foods other than the Mexican variety, but if he liked my tacos, I was going to try him on my enchiladas, now that I had all the necessary ingredients. I slid the dish into the oven and followed him to the fireplace. The hard work on the slope, along with the wine, was really working on me. I felt pleasantly tired and relaxed.

"Sleepy?" he asked as I snuggled into his side.

"Tired, mostly. I didn't realize skiing was so much work."

"It's not, once you get comfortable doing it."

"How long will that take?"

"A few months." I groaned in mock dismay. His hand was tantalizingly close to my breast as he slowly caressed my arm. "Don't worry. You made real progress today. By my count you made it down the hill three times without falling."

I smiled but said nothing. We sat close, watching the fire crackle and pop, tiny sparks dancing like fireflies before disappearing as we talked about nothing. I was supremely comfortable, and I thought I could sit there all night.

When the enchiladas were ready, I dipped them onto a plate and placed them on the table while Bryant opened a pair of beers. "Ah!" I cried as he started to pour the beers into a glass. He'd done that last night with the tacos before I noticed. "You're doing it wrong."

"What?" he asked, the brown Dos Equis bottle hovering over the glass.

"For the true Tex-Mex experience, you drink from the bottle."

He hesitated, then set the glass aside. "I defer to your expertise."

We ate, laughing and snickering over our meal, talking about my trials on the slope and my subsequent stiff legged gait. After out meal, we engaged in another rousing game with the foosball table, the game getting heated enough I actually began to sweat.

"I'm done," he murmured as I threw my hands in the air with a cheer. I'd just beaten him in three straight games. "You're too much for me to handle."

"Are we going skiing again tomorrow?" I asked as I followed him up the steps to main floor of the chalet. Not only did my legs ache, but my hands did as well from slapping and spinning the handles on the foosball table.

"If you feel up to it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I think you need to wait and see how your legs feel in the morning."

"Oh," I murmured.

"If you feel up to it, then sure. I think you're ready to try the Green slopes."

"Oh God!" I moaned.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll be right beside you the whole time."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

I waited for my good night kiss. He watched my eyes for a moment and slowly moved closer to take my lips. His mouth was warm and soft. The kiss was the perfect mixture of heat and innocence. He drew me in, the intensity of the kiss growing. I wanted more and opened my mouth, inviting him to take my tongue. My desires ramped up, and I flooded in anticipation.

He slowly disengaged, pulling back but keeping his lips close to mine. "The best cure for muscle soreness is to work it out."

My knees weakened. "Will you help me work out the stiffness?"

"It will be my pleasure," he rumbled as he kissed my lips again.