suddenly recalled something else her mother had offhandedly mentioned when she’d described the merits of Lake Placid. It was where the US Bobsled and Luge team trained before touring the world. The athletes Austin practiced his sports chiropractic on. Somehow she’d forgotten it—repressed it? And now she wondered. Could knowing he might be here have factored into her decision to choose Mirror Lake Lodge? Had she secretly hoped for this encounter? A wave of guilt and confusion crashed over her. Sent her tumbling. Made her gasp for air.
Silence stretched between them. Potent. Seething with unspoken words until she said the one name she thought she’d banished long ago.
“Austin?”
AUSTIN REYNOLDS HELD his sides and bent at the waist, his pulse racing. What were the odds of running into an ex-girlfriend in this remote spot?
“Julie. What are you doing here?” He forced his gaze away as he straightened, uncomfortable. He knew he was staring. But she was even more beautiful than he remembered. She’d matured, but still resembled an earnest college student, her long, dark hair slipping free of whatever held it, her brown eyes large and tilted upward, lashes so thick they looked wet.
And her chin. How many times had he traced it? Kissed it? Marveled at the soft skin that belied its strong jut? He shook off those memories like gathered dust and studied the peeling white bark on a birch clump. Anything to refocus him. To stop this instant prickling awareness...the rush of old feelings made new again just at the sight of her.
She ran a finger under her wristband, her teeth appearing on her bottom lip. “I’m...uh...getting married.”
Her eyes swerved to his for a brief moment, and her brows rose, challenging. In the distance, a raven’s caw echoed.
“Congratulations.” His overloud voice startled a cardinal from its perch, the bird’s flight a scarlet slash against the snowy landscape. After tracking its path, their gazes met again, then slid away. A chill ran through his heart. Julie? Married? But that meant taking a leap of faith...something she’d never been willing to do for him. “You must be happy.”
“Of course!” Her short, straight nose curled the way it always had when she fibbed. Funny how he remembered little things like that. He stepped close enough to see the faint, crosshatch scars beneath her right eye. The result of a tree house fall when she was ten, he recalled.
“Of course,” he repeated, reeling. Why was this news affecting him? He’d moved on long ago.
There was a long, electrifying pause before a brittle silence descended.
“Well. This isn’t even a little bit uncomfortable,” she observed at last, her full lips in a wry twist. For the first time, she met his gaze straight on and the impact made his lungs close up. Wariness curled like smoke in Julie’s eyes, but her expression hadn’t changed.
“Nah. Not at all,” he replied when his breath returned. He was intrigued, despite himself. With the lodge close, his escape route was steps away, yet he was seized by the desire to linger. He’d missed her sarcastic, quirky personality, he realized. What harm could come from a few exchanged words? They were nothing to each other now.
“Are you training here?” She laced her fingers into a hammock that swung in front of her hips.
“We’re here for a few months before touring. How did you know?” he asked, taken aback.
“I think my mother might have mentioned it.” Oddly, guilt flashed in her eyes before she dropped them.
“I didn’t know she followed winter sports.” Now that he had stopped moving, the cold air settled over his arms, raising bumps.
She put on a smile that wasn’t really a smile. “Who knows what my mother’s into lately,” she mused, her voice far away.
“Who knows what anyone’s into,” he muttered. Julie. Getting married. The concept gnawed at his gut. Why was this bugging him?
Her smile faded as he peered at her and he cursed himself for that revealing slip. “So when’s the wedding? I would have thought you’d have it at home.” He only partially succeeded in keeping the bitterness out of his voice. She’d never been willing to leave Connecticut for him...
Water under the bridge.
She slowly raised her downcast gaze. “I’m getting married at the Mirror Lake Lodge on Christmas Eve.”
His eyes flew to her left hand, a lump on her ring finger visible beneath her glove. “Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?” A very lucky guy, he had to admit, staring at her lovely face.
“Mason Stanton. He’s a doctor in my father’s practice.” Something lay across her voice, a long shadow. In the gray light, her skin looked pale. Not exactly a glowing bride. Then again, he supposed standing outside in below-freezing temperatures wouldn’t put him in the mood to gush, either. Especially with an ex.
“Sounds like you got what you wanted, then.” After four years together, and almost another year of long distance waiting, he’d finally realized they didn’t want the same things.
“Yes.” She rubbed her arms and jumped a little, her breath a foggy mist. The whine of Ski-Doos grew louder as a pair of the machines flashed by, deep in the woods. “How about you. Married?”
“No. Haven’t met the right lady.” He felt a pang of regret when he saw her slight wince. “Plus, I’m never in one place long enough. The team’s tour schedule is demanding, though it’s nice when we settle here for training.”
“It’s hard to imagine you ever staying in one place,” she quipped, her eyes searching his.
“It’s hard to imagine you leaving one.”
An electric charge singed the air and neither looked away. After a moment she coughed lightly into her glove, her eyes skittering sideways. “People change.”
“Not as much as we think,” he observed grimly. Something made him want to call her out. Her stubborn denial of the facts, the way she balked at risk, never took chances—on him or anything—it jabbed under his breastbone. Hard.
Her politeness melted. Suddenly there was fire in her eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
When he spoke, white puffs accentuated every word. “Come on, Julie... Marrying a doctor like your father? One who also lives in Connecticut and works in your family’s practice? What kind of change is that?”
Obviously she wanted a rerun of her childhood. Not the life he’d offered her when he’d taken a sports chiropractic and strength-training position with a Swiss team all those years ago.
Julie’s face froze, and slowly, imperceptibly, her body shrank back. “You don’t know anything about me anymore.”
He grimaced and wished he could take back that pointless rant. “You’re right. This is stupid. I’m—I’m happy for you. Glad we met up.” He dropped to one knee and tightened an unraveled shoelace, hiding his face.
Julie
