as opposite as night and day, aren’t we?” Stacy said.
“My father was tall and blond, yours short and dark. Mother loved them both. We didn’t get to place an order. I certainly never asked to be six feet tall.”
“And I never asked for saddlebags. Them’s the breaks, I guess.”
Chantel glanced at her sister’s curvy figure. “You don’t have saddlebags. I’ve always wanted to be petite, like you.”
A knock from the front of the cabin interrupted them, and Stacy jumped to her feet. “He’s here!”
Waving her out of the room, Chantel said, “You go enjoy him. I’m pretty tired after last night. I think I’ll lie down for a while. Which bunk is mine?”
There were two unmade beds and two that hadn’t been touched. “Take your pick of those,” Stacy said, already on her way out. At the door she turned back. “On second thought, why don’t you meet him before your nap? We may as well get it over with.”
Chantel cringed at the tone of Stacy’s voice. She sounded as if she’d rather have root-canal work than introduce her sister to her boyfriend, but Chantel threw her shoulders back and took a deep breath.
Stacy was in love. It was time to meet her sister’s Mr. Right—and to let him know he’d better not so much as throw a friendly smile in her direction.
Following her sister, she headed into the small cluttered living room, filled with a half-dozen pieces of mismatched furniture surrounding a black fireplace insert. Through the front window overlooking the drive, she caught a glimpse of a white sports utility vehicle. But the sight struck no chord in her until Stacy opened the door, and she saw Dillon Broderick standing on the front porch.
CHAPTER FIVE
“CHANTEL! WHAT ARE YOU doing here?” Dillon looked from Stacy to Chantel and back again. There were hundreds of cabins in the Tahoe area, and thousands of people came up on any given weekend to ski. What were the chances of running into her again? Not that he was unhappy about it. He’d been thinking about the new woman in his life ever since they’d parted, missing her, already looking forward to calling her. It just wasn’t a pleasant surprise to find Chantel in company with the woman he’d been dating for the past few weeks.
Stacy’s brows knitted together. “You two know each other?”
Dillon smiled uncomfortably. “Actually we—”
“Got in a car accident coming up here,” Chantel cut in, her voice brisk. “We don’t really know each other, just met briefly out in the storm to exchange insurance information.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry about our little fender bender, by the way.”
Just met briefly out in the storm? After what happened last night? Dillon wasn’t sure how to react. The time he’d spent with Chantel meant something to him. She meant something to him. At the same time, he’d been dating Stacy for the past few weeks, and while they hadn’t become serious or exclusive or anything, he wasn’t sure exactly what she expected of him.
“I’m sure the insurance will take care of the Landcruiser,” he said shortly. “How do you two know each other?”
“Chantel’s my sister,” Stacy replied.
Dillon wished he could step back into his truck until his head stopped reeling and he could catch his breath. Stacy’s sister? He’d just slept with Stacy’s sister? His gaze flew from Chantel’s elegant fine-boned face, now devoid of color, to Stacy’s pixie cuteness, and he wondered where the family resemblance was. He and Stacy had been friends for two years, but he couldn’t remember her ever having mentioned a sister.
“It’s cold outside. Come on in and tell me about last night,” Stacy said with a quick welcoming hug.
Dillon glanced helplessly over Stacy’s head to Chantel, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Jamming her hands in the pockets of her jeans, she stared at the carpet.
Stacy hooked an arm through his and pulled him inside. “When Veronica said you’d called and weren’t going to make it, I thought you’d turned back. What’s this accident all about?”
Normally Dillon didn’t mind Stacy’s demonstrative nature, but today it grated on his nerves. Her touch seemed more familiar, more possessive than he’d noticed before. “It wasn’t a bad one,” he said simply, setting down his large duffel bag. “Is everyone else already on the slopes?”
“It took them a while to dig out from under the snow, but they’re at Squaw Valley now. I told them we’d meet them after lunch.”
“Great.” His eyes darted to Chantel again. Her hands were still in her pockets, and she was sidling toward the hallway.
“I’m going to go blow-dry my hair,” she said before ducking out of the room.
Dillon tried to keep his gaze from following her, but it was virtually impossible. He was too taken with her after last night. He was too concerned about the revelations of the morning.
“I gather the accident was my sister’s fault,” Stacy said, studying him.
Dillon rubbed his neck. “Not really. It was the storm more than anything. Where should I put my stuff?”
“You can room with Bill and Tony, if that’s okay. There’re four bunks in the back.”
“Fine.” Dillon let Stacy lead him down the hall. The high-pitched whir of a blow-dryer came from behind one of the doors they passed, tempting him to barge in and try to explain his relationship with Stacy to Chantel. But he told himself there’d be a better time and kept moving until they came to a small square room with two sets of bunk beds pushed against the walls. Cheap comic-strip curtains hung over one window, and a few well-worn rugs covered the wooden floor—standard furnishings for a rental cabin.
“How come you never mentioned having a sister?” he asked Stacy as he dropped his duffel on a wrinkle-free bed.
“Because, for a long time, I didn’t,” she replied.
WAS SHE IMAGINING IT or had Dillon’s eyes really lit up the moment he saw Chantel? Stacy stood in the hall outside Dillon’s room, chewing her upper lip. He was just surprised, she told herself. Not every man she met was going to throw her over for her sister. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding that had shot through her veins when she’d introduced the two of them a few minutes ago.
Maybe she shouldn’t have invited Chantel to join her this weekend. She simply wasn’t up to living in her sister’s shadow again.
Closing her eyes, Stacy took a deep breath, remembering Chantel’s apology when she’d returned to California. The way she’d offered it, humbly and without hope, had melted Stacy’s heart, reminding her how much Chantel had meant to her while they were growing up. Life was okay back then, better than okay, until one incredible year—when the tall gangly Chantel had suddenly become a stunningly beautiful woman.
Then things began to change. Stacy and her sister couldn’t go to the mall anymore without boys falling all over themselves in their eagerness to get close to Chantel. They couldn’t go dancing together without Stacy playing the wallflower while Chantel was swept onto the floor
