A Little Too Late (Madigan Mountain)

AVA

When Reed mentioned “private business,” I thought he meant the naked kind. So I’m a little surprised to find myself tucked against him on a ski lift instead of a bed.

Surprised, but also thrilled. It’s been a decade since I rode a ski lift with Reed’s arm around my shoulders. I can’t believe we’re here together, and that Mark is going to let Reed get involved with the resort’s future.

Thirty feet below us, the resort is in the midst of a quiet, midweek ski day. A young female snowboarding instructor is leading a student down the trail beneath us, both of their ponytails flying out from beneath their helmets.

It’s a beautiful December day in Colorado, with a flawless blue sky. The wind isn’t even brisk as we skim up the mountain on a quad chair that we’ve got all to ourselves. The white snow reels past like a carpet up the hillside.

It’s beautiful here.

I put a hand on Reed’s thigh. “Well? How does this view stack up to Palo Alto?”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to my temple. “You already know the answer to that. I can’t believe I stayed in Silicon Valley for so long when I could have this for an office.”

“You’re really doing this? You’re going to quit your job?”

“Definitely,” he says. “I’ll have to phase out my work, though. I’m on the board of seven different companies, and it’s not fair for me to resign from them all at once. But I’ll do it. I just need to know a few things first.”

“What’s that?”

He doesn’t answer me, because we’re arriving on the peak. “Can we ski down Zipshot? There’s a spot I’d like you to see.”

“Of course.”

“It’s a black diamond,” Reed says with a smile. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

I can see my own irritation in the reflection of his goggles. “Reed Madigan, do you honestly doubt that I can ski every trail on this hill? I’ve got ten years of practice. It’s you who won’t be able to keep up.”

“We’ll just see about that,” he says, his grin teasing. “Lead the way, girl.”

I ski off the lift to the left and whip down the slope toward the trail’s entrance. Then I don’t even slow down—I hop the lip and carve down the steep terrain at a fast clip.

Fine. I’m showing off a little.

When the fall line flattens out a little, I slow down, looking over my shoulder to see that Reed is right on my heels. When I swing to a stop, his grin is exactly the same one I fell in love with all those years ago.

“Somebody learned a few things.”

“Pfft,” I say. “Let me know if I’m skiing too fast for you.” Then I take off again.

Reed must have something to prove, too, because he straight-lines the next swath of the hill. Before the next lip, he makes a sharp turn to the left and beckons to me before scooting into the treeline.

It takes me a minute to get there, and I’m breathing hard by the time I ease into the trees. I find his skis and poles tucked into the snow at the base of a giant tree.

Reed is seated on a broad branch about four feet off the ground. It forks to the side like an L, making an easy perch. “This is what I wanted to show you. I wondered if it was still here.” He pats the branch, indicating that I should join him up there.

“What is this?” I ask, using my ski pole to disengage the bindings on my skis. “Your high school make-out spot?”

“You know it.” He lifts his goggles and smiles at me. “Three brothers, one car. A guy had to get creative.”

Laughing, I approach the tree. It’s not clear how I’m going to get up there with bulky ski boots weighing me down.

“Come here, sweetheart. We got this.” Spreading his legs for stability, Reed leans over and offers me his arms.

He hoists me up beside him, tucking me into his embrace. For a few moments, we sit quietly and enjoy the vista of snowy mountain peaks all around us.

“You know how the rhyme goes, right?” he asks. “Reed and Ava, sitting in a tree? K-I-S-S-I-N-G?” We both laugh, and then he gives me a quick kiss. “This was a silly ploy to get you alone,” he says. “But I have serious questions for you.”

“Okay?” I ask, leaning closer. He smells like spicy aftershave and clean mountain air.

“Is it all right with you if I come back to Colorado?”

“Of course it is,” I say immediately. “This is your home.”

“But it’s also yours,” he says, his voice turning serious. “And if I come back, we’ll see each other every day.”

My heart gives a nervous shimmy, because I don’t understand the problem. “I hope we’ll see each other every day, Reed. What are you asking?”

He turns me in his arms until we’re nose to nose. Then he gently lifts my goggles up onto my helmet, so he can look right into my eyes. “I love you. And I’m coming back here for you, Ava. The resort is secondary. If you don’t see a future for us, I won’t come back. I’ll help my dad find a better buyer, and I’ll leave you alone. If you need me to.”

“Oh,” I say so softly that I might not have actually said anything at all. His brown eyes are so serious and so beautiful to me. I can’t believe he’d even doubt that I want that future, too.

“I want to be here with you. I want what my parents had, even if they didn’t have it as long as they hoped. I ruined things once. But if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Please stay,” I whisper. “I never stopped loving you, and I don’t think I ever will.”

He smiles. “Do you love me enough to work with me every day as well as stay with me every night? That’s a lot.”

“It depends,” I ask. “Am I still getting a vacation?”

His smile widens. “Somehow, yes. But—sorry—you’re still getting promoted. You’ll run the resort, and I’ll work on development. Sheila will be your number two, right?”

My heart lifts. “That sounds like a dream.”

“I want that for you.” He squeezes my knee and looks out at the view. “I spent a lot of the last twenty-four hours thinking about it. If you have other ideas, I’m here for that. But I won’t pretend to know how you run the place…”

“And I won’t pretend I know how commercial development works,” I add. “We can do this, Reed. Planning the future wasn’t ever our problem.”

“I was our problem,” he mutters.

“Terrible luck was our problem,” I insist. “And who knows? Maybe we’ll even have more of it. And that would suck, but we can’t let it break us the same way twice.”

“No way,” he agrees. “I love you, and I won’t ever stop. I lost you once, and I won’t let it happen again.”

“And I won’t either,” I promise him. “I want us to have a real chance.”

His arms close around me. He kisses me for real.

And then we really are like the playground rhyme—kissing in a tree.

We ski several hours together all over the mountain. And every time we get onto a ski lift, we plan something new.

“I need to ask Weston and Crew to move home,” Reed declares as we float over pine trees.

“Will they say yes?”

He laughs. “Not easily. But I can start the conversation. Both of them will eventually need a change. And if we’re really going to grow this place, we need heli skiing and a halfpipe, right?”

“That’s true,” I concede. “But there are other pilots and other riders.”

“I want them,” he says. “Both of them. But here’s an easier question. Where do you want to live? If you and I could live anywhere in Penny Ridge? Where’s the dream house.”

“Hmm. I assume we’ll be in my apartment for a while, at least. Unless you need your own space. I hear room twenty-five is still vacant.”

He snorts. “Who’s a funny girl? How about this—I’ll have Sheila watch for any mountain condos that go up for sale. I assume you like your commute. But there’s always Penny Ridge, if you’d rather live in town. Someday there might even be a ski lift you could ride from town to work.”

“I love that idea, but I think a mountain condo makes sense if the price isn’t too high.”

“My place in Palo Alto has appreciated. When I sell, we can put the cash into a new place. We could even build something if we could get a permit for one more mountainside dwelling unit. It could work.”

“Something will pan out,” I agree, my heart thumping with excitement. “And my place is fine for now. Although we’ll eventually want more space, right?”

“I hope so,” he says quietly. His eyes find mine. “Do you think someday you’d be ready to try again for a baby? Not soon. But eventually?”

The vulnerability in his brown eyes tells me exactly what he means. “Yes,” I say softly. “I would like to try again. Eventually.”

He pulls me a little closer on the lift. “You are everything I ever wanted in my life, Ava. If it never happens for us, that will be okay, too.” He takes a shaky breath. “You are so loved.”

My eyes fill with tears, and the white snow and blue sky smear together like a watercolor painting.

It’s not the view I’m used to. But it’s still beautiful.