Page 9 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“Yeah, the wholeswears like a sailorthing rings true, doesn’t it?”
Wes was a fighter pilot in the Navy until his near-fatal plane crash. Though he survived, his wingman and friend did not. As much as I miss him, I’m glad all that trauma took him to Sydney to work for Breck’s adventure tour company. It brought him to Joss, the love of his life. He deserves that happiness, and I’m glad he’s found it. Even if it’s half a world away from me.
“It does indeed, but that’s beside the point. Willow Bear, what on earth happened here? I thought I told you to unpack, not throw everything around the room like a tornado came through.” Breck’s hands are on his hips and his lips are pursed. I stifle the laugh that bubbles up. His stern look is so at odds with his usual demeanor.
“Well, I did unpack.” She waves her arms around at the wreckage. “Then I got distracted dancing to my music. And then I decided to take a shower and I couldn’t find my bathroom stuff. And then you told me Rory was coming so I threw my pjs back on so I could say hi. And then I needed to get dressed and wasn’tsure what to wear so…” She looks around her room as if this rambled explanation makes sense of the scene.
“O-kay,” I drawl, feeling the need to pipe in and defuse this stand-off. “How about we find you something warmer to wear to lunch and we can go through this when we get back. Organize and take stock at the same time, yeah?”
I offer a kind smile to Willow and quirk a brow at Breck.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He huffs a breath. “Do you at least know where the snow boots are, Willow?”
She jumps on the spot, spinning in a circle until her eyes land on the closet. “There!”
She saunters over, not a care in the world that she just kicked over the last remaining pile of mostly folded shirts. Breck groans from the doorway and I bite my lip to hide my smile.
The boots in her hand look sturdy and warm. “Did you order those? I can’t imagine you found them in the height of summer in Sydney.”
“I absolutely ordered them. She, of course, insisted on the ones with the pink fur.”
“Obviously.” I chuckle. “Willow, any idea where the pants are?” I ask, scanning the room for jeans or anything heavier than—
“These are my favorite leggings,” she says, interrupting my search. They’re very cute—black with silver sparkles—but the flimsy fabric is unlikely to cut it when we step outside. Looking at Breck, he just shrugs, so I let it go.
“They are very cute. How about a jacket? Hat? Gloves?” I glance around, seeing none of these things.
“Her jacket is downstairs. As for a hat and gloves, I somehow forgot about those… even though I definitely packed them for myself.” His hand tightens at the back of his neck then his eyes follow suit, squeezing shut. If I could see into his mind, I think I’d hear him kicking himself.
“That’s okay, I have an extra pair of gloves in my coat. You know, for emergencies.” I give Willow a conspiratorial wink. “They’ll be a little big, but I bet they’ll work just fine. So, lunch?”
“Yes, please!” Willow draws the words out. Her melodic voice and adorable Australian accent make my heart melt.
“My best friend’s going to meet us. I think you’ll like him,” I tell her, and her eyes brighten. She walks out past Breck and I expect him to follow, but his eyes are caught on something behind me. With what I see on his face, I don’t have to look to know it’s the framed picture of what used to be their family.
CHAPTER FIVE
Breck
We piled into the Jeep and hit up a small local burger joint for lunch. It was technically within walking distance, but with Willow’s insistence on the flimsy leggings, driving was the prudent choice. Jamie, Rory’s friend, had a table waiting for us when we arrived.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but a hulking man with red hair and a beard wasn’t it. Willow took to him immediately, pointing out the way his slight Scottish accent was different to Rory’s but not quite like ours either. Sitting next to each otherwith her strawberry blonde hair, he and Rory look more like siblings than she and Wes do.
Was I curious to know if there was more between them? Maybe. But with the way she encouraged him to get the waitress’s phone number and her pleased expression when he did, I don’t think there is. And I don’t know why I felt relief with that realization… Not at all.
We didn’t linger after lunch, knowing we had a wardrobe explosion to clean up. I tried to help when we got back to the condo, but Rory seemed to have a system going, and I was only in the way. I also couldn’t stop my eyes from snagging on the picture on the bedside table. I finally had to walk away, leaving the girls in peace to do their own thing.
So, here I stand, in the kitchen drinking a cup of cold coffee, contemplating my life.
I’m a thirty-five-year-old single dad who ran to a foreign country because the mother of his child left him for a man he called a friend, a business partner. I’ve been unemployed since we sold the company, but I’ve promised myself not to dwell too much on that fact given how much the sale brought in. If it was enough to allow Talia to leave with Drew, it’s enough for me to enjoy this time with Willow.
Still… Nothing about my life looks the way it did even a month ago, and the future I’d envisioned for myself feels lost in the tumult.
By the time Rory has a comprehensive list of everything Willow needs and they trudge down the stairs, I can tell my little munchkin is waning on energy. Driving thirty minutes to go shopping is a no-go seeing as she’s already burrowing into the couch, and I’d like to avoid a meltdown. I scrub at the back of my neck, a sigh escaping my lips.
“I can go,” Rory says quietly from beside me. “I can grab you guys something for dinner while I’m out.”
“No. It’s okay. We can wait until tomorrow to shop and I’ll just order something in,” I protest. She must have better things to do, but she’s not taking no for an answer, and no matter how much it feels like I’m taking advantage of her kindness, I relent. She takes my credit card with a smile and a promise to be back soon.
