Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
I snorted. “What time is it?”
“Five a.m. Come on. I want to be on the slopes by the time the sun rises and we still have to rent gear for you.”
I grumbled a little more mostly on principle alone, but finally lugged myself out of bed and followed Carson into the bathroom as he started the shower for me.
I brushed my teeth and when I was done, I shooed him out so that I could pee in privacy and then convince my body to wake up under the shower spray.
“I’ll make coffee,” he called behind him cheerfully. Some people really were annoyingly chipper in the morning. It was hard to like people like that.
I climbed under the hot spray and began lathering my body with soap. Yes, it was difficult to like morning people. Even ones who had broad shoulders and rock-hard abs. Even ones who had smiles that made your heart skip a beat and sparks shoot down your spine. Even ones who had a beautiful little dimple right under his full bottom lip—God’s last paintbrush flourish to the masterpiece that was Carson Stinger.
Even morning people who rescued women as their self-appointed job, despite the huge personal risk.
I stopped mid-lather and just stood there for a minute, letting that reality take hold. He rescues women. Women who were slated to exist in back-alley brothels, little girls who would end up as some sick tourist’s plaything somewhere in a seedy room. I wasn’t the most educated person in the world when it came to human trafficking, but I knew enough that even thinking about it made my stomach turn violently. My God, I was still stunned when I stopped to ponder on what Carson and his friends were doing.
Okay, so it wasn’t difficult at all to like some morning people. In fact, I really, really liked my morning person. He was exceptional, actually. A hero.
I got out of the shower and pulled a towel around my body and then returned to the bedroom and dressed quickly in a sweater and jeans.
As I was pulling on socks, Carson walked in with a steaming cup of coffee. “More awake?” he asked.
“Hmmm…” I said. I was more awake and capable of thought but not capable of too much conversation just yet. I’d need a little more caffeine for that.
I finished my coffee at the kitchen island as Carson got our stuff together, and then he came over and put my boots on me. “This is one of those bad things about me,” I said. “I’m a grump in the morning.”
He chuckled. “I already knew that.” He winked. “And I came back for more anyway.”
He put his arms around my waist and lifted me from the barstool. “Let’s go watch another sunrise together, buttercup,” he whispered. “One of many more to follow.”
__________
I leaned back on Carson as we waited for the sun to rise from the top of the ski trail. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the side of my neck gently, the same way he’d done when we’d watched our first sunrise together so many years ago.
I looked over my shoulder at him. If I knew that a boy in a beanie and snow goggles pushed up on his head was so damn sexy, I would have been trolling the slopes long ago.
“What are you grinning about?” he asked.
“I like this look on you. No, I love it actually. Especially the goggles.”
“Oh yeah? Because I could wear them later in bed. Naked with goggles.”
I burst out laughing. “Actually, that sounds kind of creepy.” I tilted my head. “But also? Kind of sexy.”
He laughed and pulled me closer.
A sparkle of light hit my eye, and I said, “Shh, the sun’s coming up.”
He leaned down close to my ear. “I’m pretty sure it will keep rising whether we whisper or not, buttercup.”
I swatted him. “Ha-ha. I just meant, let’s give it the proper respect it deserves.”
He kissed me quickly. “Good point.”
We watched the morning sun until it had broken over the horizon and the snowy hills surrounding us were glittering and bathed in yellow light. Then Carson took my hand and so began my first snowboarding lesson.
I sucked.
No, I really sucked. By the time I was competent enough to go down a hill without falling down, it was only because the pain of pushing myself back up with my arms was so utterly intolerable that I remained standing through sheer determination alone.
I didn’t think I had ever laughed so hard at myself though, and Carson was patient and funny and didn’t show off…too much. Although, honestly, I didn’t mind. He was a thing of beauty on the slopes. He was as comfortable with his feet anchored to a board, sliding over the snow, as he was walking through a parking lot. A couple times, he brought me up a higher hill and he went up and down a couple times while I practiced staying upright, and then he finally joined up with me again to continue my lesson.