Marriage on Her Mind

“No problem. This is Casey. She’s new in town—works at the chamber.”

“Welcome to town.” George shook hands with her, then turned back to Max. “Have you seen those new mono-skis I just got in?”

“No. Let me check them out.”

While the men talked equipment, Casey wandered to a rack of clothing and began thumbing through the jackets, pants and knit tops. She’d definitely need to add to her wardrobe of casual clothes. Most of the suits and dresses she’d brought with her were too formal even to wear to work. Even business was a more casual affair in C.B. than it had been in Chicago.

Max collected his check and Casey, then they emerged once more into the cold. A few snowflakes swirled around them. “Let’s grab a bite to eat,” Max said. “The Avalanche has good food.” He nodded to a restaurant across the way.

Casey started to ask if including dinner now made this a date, but refrained. And once they were seated in the restaurant, she had to admit this was like no date she’d ever been on. Max seemed to know everyone and it took fifteen minutes to order their meal because they were constantly interrupted by people. Everyone who stopped by learned that Casey was the new employee of the chamber of commerce. “I’m showing her around, helping her get familiar with the area,” Max said.

“Cool,” his friends said. Or “Welcome to C.B.” No knowing looks or winks were exchanged. Nothing to suggest this was anything more than two friends enjoying a meal.

But it wasn’t exactly like a meal with one of her girlfriends, either. Max ordered what she and her friends had always called “man pizzas”—pies piled with meat and every other topping available. “Is that okay with you?” he asked belatedly.

She shrugged and unfolded her napkin across her lap. “Sure.” When in Rome and all that.

Their pizza arrived and the traffic around their table died down. “Do you know how many snowboarders it takes to change a lightbulb?” Max asked between bites of pizza.

“No, how many?”

“Three. One to change the bulb, one to videotape it and one to say ‘Awesome, dude!’”

She hadn’t expected this and struggled to keep Diet Coke from coming out her nose as she laughed.

“How many ski instructors does it take to change a lightbulb?” Max continued.

She shook her head, laughing.

“Six. One to change the bulb and five others to say ‘Nice turn.’ ‘Nice turn.’ ‘Nice turn.’”

She groaned. “That’s bad.”

“One more and I promise I’ll stop.” He helped himself to another slice. “What are a snowboarder’s last words?”

She shook her head. “I can’t even guess.”

“Dude! Watch this!”

She dissolved into giggles again. It wasn’t that the jokes were so funny, but that he looked so delighted to be sharing them with her. Their eyes met and she felt the definite sizzle of attraction.

She looked away and fussed with the napkin in her lap. Now this definitely didn’t feel like any date she’d had before. None of the men she went out with acted silly or went out of their way to amuse her. And she’d never experienced this sudden shift from laughter to lust. Was it the altitude, the novelty of her surroundings or something else entirely?

They finished eating, Max consuming the lion’s share, then walked back to the bus stop. It had stopped snowing again, but the wind had picked up. The icy chill seemed to slice right through Casey’s coat. She wrapped her arms across her chest and shivered. “I can’t believe it’s this cold in April,” she said.

“Nights can be cold here into the summer,” Max said. He put his arm around her and pulled her close in a hug. “Let me warm you up.”

It was a friendly gesture, but an intimate one, too. It felt good, his strong arm encircling her, the warmth from his body radiating to hers. She raised her eyes to meet his and found him studying her intently. “What is it?” she asked.

“You’re not like most of the women I’ve met up here,” he said, his voice soft and low.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. I like it. I mean, I like you. You’re…your own person.” Their eyes remained locked and she wondered if he would kiss her. Part of her thought she wouldn’t be able to stand it if he didn’t—and part of her wanted to run away if he did.

But after a moment, he withdrew his arms. “Here comes the bus,” he said.

They found a seat on the bus and he avoided looking at her again. Instead, he directed his attention out the window. “There are some great trails up there,” he said, indicating a snowy forest-service road. “Good fishing in the lakes, too.”

“I don’t fish,” she said. “But I suppose some of the people who come into the chamber do. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“That paved path you can barely see is the Hike and Bike trail,” he said, indicating a trail on their left. “It goes all the way from Crested Butte up to the resort.”

“I’ll have to try it sometime.” She kept her eyes on him, but he continued to avoid her gaze. She wondered if that moment of intimacy back at the bus stop had unnerved him even more than it had unsettled her.

When they reached Crested Butte, they climbed off the bus and walked up the street in silence. Neither said anything until they were in the hallway to their apartments. “Thanks for showing me around tonight,” she said.

“Anytime.” His earlier easiness had returned. “And if you need anything in your apartment or whatever, let me know.”

“The apartment’s fine,” she said. “Very nice.”

“Good night.” He nodded and turned toward his door.

She stared after him, amusement warring with confusion. For someone Trish swore was a ladies’ man, Max certainly hadn’t made any moves tonight. He’d been exactly what she needed—a good friend.

Of course, she thought, as she unlocked her door and went inside, what she needed and what she wanted weren’t necessarily the same thing. She’d have to be careful to not let her suddenly-wide-awake libido get the better of her common sense. Better to get a handle on this new life she was creating for herself before she wandered off into the dangerous territory of a new love interest.

Though when she was ready to head off into that particular wilderness, a mountain man like Max might be the perfect guide.

Chapter Four

Casey decided that if someone combined a Halloween party with a square dance and a junior prom, the result would be the Flauschink Polka Ball. It was definitely nothing like the fancy balls she’d endured in Chicago, she thought as she and Heather joined the crush of people at the entrance to the Eldo while the oompah beat of “Roll Out the Barrel” poured from the open doors.

Heather wore a black leotard and tights, and had fastened two large white dots to her torso. “I’m a domino,” she explained. “The two-spot.”

Casey had succumbed to Heather’s badgering and dressed as Miss Scarlet, complete with a red feathered headdress, red boa, red fishnet stockings and stiletto heels, and a long black cigarette holder unearthed from the prop department of the community theater troupe. Since Casey didn’t smoke, Heather had stuck a bubble wand in the end of the holder. She’d handed Casey a plastic bottle of bubble solution. “You’ll be a hit,” she declared.

Okay, so it was kind of fun blowing bubbles over the heads of the assorted clowns, cowboys, devils, angels, snowmen and the other characters that converged inside the Eldo.

Casey had scarcely gotten her bearings when a man wearing a red long underwear top, rough canvas pants, suspenders and a bushy black beard grabbed her hand. “Let’s dance,” he said.

Casey resisted. “I don’t know how to polka,” she protested.

“Then it’s time you learned.” The man—she decided he was supposed to be a miner—swept her onto the dance floor and led her in a somewhat controlled gallop across the room.

“Who are you?” she shouted over the insistent polka beat.

“Bill Whitmore. We met at the chamber.”