in the kitchen, the kids were dressed and ready to go. Anthony wasn’t coming anywhere near David, but that was okay.
Angela had taken a few minutes to slip into ski pants and a jacket. The outfit was a brilliant turquoise with a yellow stripe. She was petite but not demure. Feminine, yet not passive. He thought of the fiancée who’d left him because his career had been ruined…because she’d wanted some of the fame his dad had dreamed of for him. Jessica’s leaving while he’d worked in rehab to regain use of his leg had seemed like a crushing defeat. Fate double dealing him. At twenty-eight, he still couldn’t figure out women, and for the past couple of years had stopped trying. He dated, but never seriously. Sometimes he felt as if he were out of step with the rest of the men of his generation who hopped from one woman’s bed to another, as if sex and relationships were some kind of game. Maybe it was his upbringing, but he’d never felt like that.
A half hour later, as David unloaded his toboggan from the rack on his SUV, he saw Angela lifting a saucer from her van. Michael grabbed it and, struggling with it, took off through the cluster of kids and adults at the top of the hill.
“Michael, wait,” Angela called after him.
David hollered over to her, “I’ll watch out for him. Take your time.” He started off toward Michael.
Soon he was aware of Anthony following, a good ten feet behind him. This Big Brother thing was going to be a hard sell. But if he didn’t push, the nine-year-old might come around. Most kids did because they missed the male figure in their life who wasn’t there anymore…because they felt as if a piece of their life was missing.
The next hour seemed to fly by in a mixture of runs down the hill, trudges back up, laughter and adrenaline rushes—mostly because of getting too close to Angela, not the speed of sledding down the hill.
Anthony just sort of buzzed around at a distance, giving David curious looks now and then, acting sullen and withdrawn otherwise. He’d met up with a friend, and at one point the two boys had joined David on the toboggan. Afterward, Anthony had gone his way again. As Angela kept a close eye on everyone, David noticed she oversaw the outing but didn’t sled herself. Did she feel she couldn’t have fun when the kids were around?
Although she was holding a cup of hot chocolate and breathing in the warmth, her nose and cheeks were red. They’d have to leave soon.
In spite of an inner voice telling him to stay removed, David approached her. “How about taking a run down the hill with me?”
“I don’t think so,” she answered politely.
“Are you afraid I’ll dump you in the snow?”
She gave him a genuine smile. “Maybe. I’m not a speed junkie.”
“You don’t like roller coasters?”
“I avoid them at all costs. I turn an ugly shade of green.”
“I doubt that. Come on. You need to show your kids you can join in the fun.”
“I do?” She looked a bit defensive.
“Sure. I think one of the reasons kids keep a distance from their parents is because they think their parents were never kids. Or have forgotten what it was like to be a kid.”
As she gazed out over the snow-covered vista and the pines beyond, she seemed to think that over. Her focus went to Olivia, who was tubing down the hill with a friend. Then she concentrated on Michael, who was in his own world, spinning his saucer on a snow patch. Anthony had taken his sled and was doing belly flops down the hill.
A tall man had arrived a few minutes ago with his daughter, and Angela had spoken to him for a while. David had definitely noticed. That same man was standing by a picnic table, watching his daughter, who was sledding with Olivia.
“Hey, Jack,” Angela called to him. “Can you keep an eye on my kids for a few minutes?”
“No problem,” he called back.
She turned back to David, “All right,” she agreed. “One run.”
“You have to smile, so they think you’re having fun even when you’re not.”
She laughed, and he liked the sound of it. He liked her.
A few minutes later he was positioning the toboggan. “It’ll be easier if I hop on first. Then you slide back between my legs.”
Her eyes grew a bit bluer and wider, and for a moment she looked as if she wanted to run. Maybe he’d been wrong about a mutual attraction. Maybe it had been wishful thinking.
“This will be over quicker than you can say your name.” He hopped on before she could change her mind, then motioned in front of him.
After brief moments of hesitation, she sat at the foot of the toboggan, then levered herself backward until she was between his legs, closer to his chest.
He realized he was going to have to put his arms around her to guide the toboggan, unless she wanted to handle steering. “If you want me to guide the sled, I’m going to have to put my arms around you and take hold of the lead.”
“Fine,” came her small low voice.
This had been such a bad idea. His knees were lodged against her hips. After he slid forward, his arms went around her and he felt her tense. But then she handed him the rope.
“Stay loose,” he warned her, his chin practically touching her shoulder. “If we do capsize, it’ll make the tumble easier.”
“Do I really want to do this?” she muttered, looking toward heaven.
His arms were under hers now. In spite of the cold he felt the warmth from her body, the heat of whatever sexual attraction was zipping between them. It wasn’t one-sided.
She wore a pull-on knit cap, and it almost touched his nose as he used his leg to push them off. “Hold on,” he suggested as they tilted over the crest of the hill and began their descent.
She did hold on. Her hands clasped his arms, and the rush of wind, the bite of cold rising from the snow, the accelerated speed as they picked up velocity, weren’t as thrilling as having this woman in his arms. As they flew down the hill, she lay into his chest. He leaned forward to protect her. The ride was exhilarating. Her perfume mingling with the pine and winter was intoxicating. The rush that went through him surpassed anything he’d ever felt on the football field. That was most surprising of all. He’d thought he’d lost that adrenaline lift forever. But here it was today, because of Angela Schumacher.
The ride was over as quickly as it had begun. One moment the toboggan was speeding, the downhill slope propelling it. The next they were coasting to a stop.
Neither of them spoke or moved, although other sleds and tubes careered down the hill around them. Riders jumped off, grabbed their leads and marched up the hill again for another run.
But David and Angela just sat there.
“That was something,” he said just to get her to talk.
When she glanced over her shoulder, their faces were very close. “It was indescribable.”
Her
