means I can go back to where I was and that maybe somewhere in my brain is the thought that I don’t want to go back there.”
He nodded. “My therapist has often said that, for me, I have to keep moving forward. Once I master a skill, I need to find a new one.”
“That’s interesting... Does he have a theory why?” Maybe there was a clue in Carter’s problems that could lead her to a solution of her own.
“He does, but it’s very personal.” There was a glimpse of the real man. The one he kept hidden behind a curtain of sexy charm and outrageous dares.
“Sorry,” she said quietly. “Didn’t mean to pry.”
“I brought it up. Just throwing it out as an option.” Resting an elbow on the table, he turned to face her. “I want to help you get back on the slopes. It will be a way for me to make up for any part of your crash.”
“I told you that wasn’t your fault.”
“I know, but I need to do this. Plus, and if you repeat this to anyone I’ll deny it, but when you ski it’s like magic. I love watching you on the slopes, and I’d hate to never see you ski again.”
“Why would you deny that?” she asked, touched more than she wanted to be.
“Because I’m a bad-boy snowboarder and I’ve got a reputation to preserve,” he said with a wink.
“Well, far be it from me to ruin that for you,” she quipped. But deep down inside the freedom she’d felt last night was starting to fade. It made her wistful and wonder how she was going to achieve what had seemed so possible last night. How could she change her life?
“You won’t,” he said slyly. “So let’s see... How’s the knee? Have you taken any runs?”
Lindsey shook her head. She thought of how she sometimes brought her skis here and sat as though she’d just taken a run, even though she clearly hadn’t.
Who the heck was she trying to fool?
“My knee is fine. No runs. I mean, I’m teaching the classes, so I am on the bunny slopes with my kids, but that’s not really skiing.”
“Not for you,” he said.
“No, not for me. But why do you care? I mean, really. Not that BS about feeling guilty about my crash—the real story.”
He leaned in close and shrugged. “Maybe I sense that’s the only way you’ll let me see you again.”
He was right, but she wasn’t about to admit it to him. “We’re on a committee together, Carter. We will have to see each other again.”
He took a sip of his hot chocolate. “I expected better—more from you than this.”
She held the same high expectation for herself. “I’m sorry. I think the combo of too much to drink, a very sexy encounter and confusion left over from last night are making this morning difficult.”
“You think too much,” he said softly. “I’ve had more mornings-after than you. Take it from me, you have to just shake it off.”
She didn’t want to shake it off. A part of her wanted to be the woman she’d been last night. That bold, self-assured, confident woman she’d been with Carter, the woman who’d believed in herself. Surely that hadn’t just been the champagne talking. The seeds of that woman had to be inside her.
She just had to figure out how to sow them.
Carter was offering her something by saying he wanted to see her ski again. He’d always been that devilish rogue who could needle her into doing things she’d otherwise pass on.
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