Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
“The only good thing about this is how hot you look doing that,” I call out, lifting my goggles up onto my helmet.
It seems I spend an unnecessary fortune on gear every time I snowboard or ski because I only do it once every three or four years and my size changes. Dylan gave me a pair of her white pants, and I was able to reuse the helmet and jacket, but I had to buy new goggles.
Lucas is dressed all in black.
“I thought you liked skiing,” he tells me.
“I like the ski lifts.”
That ride is always relaxing. Until it’s time to get off.
He removes his snowboard and plops down behind me, his legs around me. Tipping my chin back, he kisses my lips.
“And I love après-ski,” I whisper.
I love getting everything off and getting warm with him.
“That was not very nice what you pulled in the office,” he growls a little.
“I think I’m very nice.”
Our family is all around the mountain somewhere. Except James. He’s probably in the lodge, whipping up mischief.
Skiers and snowboarders coast by us, having a ball, and I can smell the snow clouding the sky. January has been an eventful month for weather, but I’m not complaining.
I thread my fingers through Lucas’s as they snake around my waist.
“Have you had enough skiing?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Wanna go home?”
“Yeah.”
He hugs me close. “Okay,” he says. “But you gotta get your ass down the hill one last time.”
I crash back into him harder. “Ugh.”
We sit there for a minute, out of the way, watching Hunter and Kade race by, carving eights into the snow with their boards. I can just make out Juliet on the bunny hill with Aro’s brother, teaching him some beginner moves.
Lucas is going to be here or—hopefully—at his resort every winter. He loves the snow. “I’m going to have to learn, aren’t I?”
I want him to say “no.” Or tell me I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, but instead, he replies, “Yes.”
I eye him over my shoulder.
“I can’t own a ski resort and my wife not ski,” he explains.
Wife?
Butterflies swarm my stomach, and I can’t keep the smile at bay.
I know this isn’t his actual proposal, but it’s the first time he’s alluded to our future together.
Is it really going to be Lucas and me? Forever?
He smiles back and lowers his mouth to mine, but I can’t even kiss him properly, I’m almost giggling.
“Quinn,” he scolds, wanting his kiss.
But I just laugh, shrinking down in his arms under his cocked eyebrow. “I’m sorry!”
He growls and bears down, grabbing my lips with his.
And my chest caves, breathless.
God, I love him. Our quiet talks and our quiet house and our quiet nights.
But it won’t be a quiet wedding. I’ll be taking over the town that day.
Winslet stands on the balcony of the ski lodge, steam from her breath barely visible. She doesn’t breathe. Not really. Manas once called her a creature, not human. Maybe, after all this time, she understands what he meant.
The way she didn’t need air to live, but rather absorbed whatever was on his lips when he pressed them to her skin.
And the way he said her cunt was poison. Like a drug that made him think only of her when he couldn’t have her.
Lucas helps Quinn to her feet, slowly gliding down the mountain in short stints and waiting for her as she timidly follows.
If she leaves now, she can get into 01 Knock Hill while Lucas and Quinn are out and leave one last present for them.
But it’s best to leave it alone. Let Lucas concentrate on rebuilding Weston. She wants it to thrive before both towns burn.
And perhaps, there are other players to mobilize in the meantime.
She scans the slopes, spotting wild little Dylan flying over a ramp and beautiful Aro, still shaky with her new snowboard. They both went searching Camp Blackhawk last summer with Quinn and others, but they didn’t find what is certainly there. It’s not their fault. It’s hidden as well as the memories of when Manas and Deacon found her that summer, after the night rides, when the blood still soaked the ground.
That…was a glorious night.