скачать книгу бесплатно
“Lucky guess.”
“Not a guess. Like I said, Speed, predictable.”
It was his turn to scowl. “None of that counts.”
“Speaking of your car, twenty bucks says you bought a new one a week after you hit the ground in Montpelier last spring.”
“Yeah, so?”
“You did buy a new car, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. The question is what?”
Given his image, the ultrasexy sports car would be the obvious pick. But she knew better. “The biggest mean-ass four-by-four hemi on top truck in midnight-blue metal flake.” She smiled in enjoyment. “And if they didn’t carry it in midnight-blue metal flake, you had them do a custom job for you.”
To her infinite pleasure, his mouth fell slightly ajar.
“Well, am I right?”
He recovered. “You could have looked right out in the parking lot and seen it.”
“Maybe, except that if I know you, you tucked it away in the back row.” When he was silent, she merely crossed her arms and looked satisfied. “Oh, yeah, Speed, I know you. I know you through and through.”
And she plucked the package from his hands and walked inside.
Chapter Two
One thing she had to give him: he threw a hell of a party. At a glance, Lainie would have sworn the spacious lodge held the entire population of Crawford Notch, where Gabe lived now, as well as Eastmont. People crowded together in the main room, laughing, joking, sipping drinks. Off to one side, in the lounge, a band played U2. As far as opening events, it was a humdinger.
Then again, so was the lodge. Gabe and Hadley hadn’t bothered to renovate. Instead they’d just knocked down the old structure and put up something inspired, something open and airy and inviting. The cathedral ceiling of the main room soared overhead; skylights brought the day inside. The two walls of the lodge that faced the mountain were sheets of glass, looking out on the vivid-green turf of the final slope of the ski runs. In five months the grass would be covered in snow, dotted with the bright flashes of speeding skiers. Then this room would belong to the après ski crowd.
But for now it was theirs.
Lainie watched the bartender in the lounge pour a martini. Discreet waiters circulated with canapés. She took a blissful sniff as a tray of scallops wrapped in bacon passed by. Later, she promised herself. For now she needed to find the guests of honor and figure out someplace to drop her gift.
“Look who’s here, it’s Witch Girl,” she heard a loud voice say.
“Gabe!” She found herself swept up in a bear hug by her dark-haired cousin. “How have you been? It’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”
His teeth gleamed in a smile, and she thought, as usual, that he could have made a fortune in Hollywood. “Not that long. Nick’s wedding was, what, three months ago?”
“Two,” corrected the slender blonde who stepped up beside him. “Still too long, though. Thanks for coming.”
“Hadley, sweetie, no way would I have missed this.” Lainie hugged her in turn. “I am so happy for you guys.”
Hadley pushed back a sheaf of pale hair and gave her a skeptical look. “Don’t give me that. You’re happy because we’re keeping your parents off your back. You don’t fool me.”
Lainie grinned. “You love me and want me to be happy, don’t you? Besides, I really am thrilled for you. You’re perfect together.”
Gabe gathered Hadley against him, his dark hair mixing with her light. “That’s what I keep telling her. We’re made for each other. I was made to look good and she was made to wash my socks. Oof.” He released her, rubbing his side where she’d elbowed him.
Hadley smiled prettily. “We’ve already agreed, he’ll wash his own socks.”
Lainie laughed out loud. “I think you’ll both do fabulously.” And an arm looped around her from behind.
“What do you think, Lainie,” J.J. asked, “will you wash my socks? Ow!”
She removed her elbow from his side and turned to see him bent over. “I’ll wash my hands of you, if that’ll do.”
“You’re roughing up my best man, there,” Gabe said mildly.
“Consider it for the good of mankind.”
“That’s not very friendly,” J.J. complained. “What did I ever do to mankind?”
“For the good of womankind, then,” she amended. “On general principles.”
“Underneath that mask of hostility lies complete devotion,” J.J. told Hadley.
She stuck her tongue in her cheek. “I can see that.”
“If I wanted to be devoted to you, Speed, I’d have to line up behind the entire female population of Scandinavia,” Lainie said. “I mean, granted, with your attention span, you’ll go through them quickly, but I don’t have that kind of time.” She winked at Gabe and Hadley. “So where do I put this?” She raised the gift box.
“I’ll show you,” Hadley said, leading the way across the room.
“So are we going to be able to get off somewhere this weekend and catch up?” Lainie asked as they threaded their way through the crush. “We are so due.”
“I think it sounds like a great idea.” Hadley set the box on the gift table and flicked her a conspiratorial look. “How about now?”
It didn’t take them long to find a table in the corner and order wine. “So what’s going on? How’s the wedding?”
Hadley sighed. “A headache, mostly.”
“Why? It sounded like you guys had it all worked out.”
“We did. Or at least we thought we did. Then my mother got involved.”
Lainie frowned. “But you guys are paying for the wedding yourselves, right? I thought the whole point was to have it the way you wanted.”
“You haven’t met my mother.”
“Come on, sweetie, you’re standing up to them now, remember? You’re not letting them run your life anymore.”
“And I’m smart enough to pick my battles,” Hadley said as their wine arrived.
Lainie raised her glass. “To Gabe and Hadley and happily ever after.”
“Assuming we get that far,” Hadley muttered, and clinked her glass.
“So what’s going on?”
“With my mother? Everything. I’ve managed to keep her out of it all so far, but now she and my sisters are having fits about the wedding party.”
“What are they having fits about? Your sisters are in it, aren’t they? They ought to be happy.” They ought, in Lainie’s opinion, to consider themselves lucky to have a sister like Hadley.
“There are two of them, and Gabe’s got three groomsmen.”
“So? Small weddings are the new black.”
“They’re worried about the exit processional. My mother insists that the numbers should be even.”
“But you guys are going low-key. Give one of them two guys to lead out, it’s no big deal.”
“It is to them,” Hadley said grimly. “No one throws better fits over nothing than they do.”
“But it’s your wedding.” Hadley’s complicated relationship with her family was a source of constant amazement to Lainie. No wonder the woman had moved three states away.
“Like I said, I pick my battles. I’ve kept her out of everything else. I figure this one’s not worth it.” She let out a breath. “So I have a favor to ask you. I really hope you won’t be offended at the late invite but, pretty please with sugar on top, will you be in our wedding?”
Lainie blinked. “Be in your wedding? But don’t you have a childhood friend or someone that you’d like to ask?”
“This is me, remember? The compulsive overachiever who didn’t have time for friends? Anyway, people have a tendency to get offended at being asked five weeks before the wedding.”
“People can be idiots,” Lainie pronounced, slinging an arm over Hadley’s shoulders.
Hadley grinned. “That’s part of why we get along so well. Anyway, I’m sorry about the short notice. Just please say you’ll do this for me. It’ll save me a world of grief.”
“Hadley, sweetie, whatever I can do to make your life easier, let me know.”
“You just did. My mother will be thrilled. It’ll be so symmetrical, my sisters with Gabe’s brothers. You’ll be maid of honor. That’ll put you with J.J.”
That’ll put you withJ.J.
Lainie glanced across the bar to where he stood with his arms around two women who looked about eighteen. He whispered something to one of them, and she burst out giggling and pressed a kiss on him.
Lainie scowled. “Great. J.J. and me. Just what I’ve always wanted.”
J.J. leaned against the lodge wall, beer in hand, listening as Tom Phillips, a guy he and Gabe had known in junior high school, hit the punch line in a joke. So it wasn’t an après ski party in Gstaad. It was still good to be entertained, especially now, when he was sitting around at loose ends. It made him feel itchy in his own skin. He was accustomed to having a focus. He was accustomed to having a goal. He should be finishing up with speed camp in Chile right now, ready to head to Innsbruck in a couple of weeks to prep for the first World Cup race of the year at Sölden. Instead he was here, trying with admittedly little grace to be patient with physical therapy and the healing process of his shoulder while he waited for clearance to start training in earnest. He wasn’t used to being forced to sit back and let other people get a head start on him.
He wasn’t used to feeling like he was falling behind.
Of course he wasn’t, he reminded himself. Maybe he’d be starting the season at a slight disadvantage, but he’d catch up quickly. Dry-land training would help, and once he got on the slopes, it would all come back.
And he wasn’t going to think about what the future held, the all-too-near prospect of the day he’d miss speed camp not because he was rehabbing, but because he was retired.
J.J. made an impatient noise. Only a putz worried about things he couldn’t change, and the future wasn’t now. Right now he was just biding his time until he got going again. So if he was stuck waiting, he’d make the most of it. There were beautiful women in New England. He could hang out with friends, see his family.
And maybe harass Lainie some more.
Lainie.
Something about her today seemed uncommonly delectable.
He looked across to see her standing and talking to a guy whose eyebrows seemed to blend in with his hairline. As he watched, she threw her head back and laughed, not a giggle but the full-fledged belly laugh of a woman who wasn’t afraid to have a good time.
J.J. took a drink of his beer, letting the conversation flow over him. He wasn’t sure if he enjoyed needling her so much because it was so easy to get a rise out of her or because she generally managed to give as good as she got. Or maybe he just liked watching those brown eyes dance with devilry when she hit him with a really good zinger. If Lainie Trask were an animal, she’d be one of those seals that balanced balls on its nose, with her sleek dark hair and her quicksilver sense of fun. There was something irresistible about her, something happy and feckless and free.
Even when she was glowering at him.
Their sparring was so long-standing, he hardly remembered when it had started. One minute she’d been the skinny little drink of water who’d hung around him and Gabe when the two of them were in junior high. The next, he’d come back from his first modest experience in the Winter Olympics to find her all grown up into a leggy high-schooler with the eyes of a woman—a woman who seemed completely immune to his charm.
At first the acerbic retorts had annoyed and then they had begun to amuse. Sure she was hot but she was also the next best thing to Gabe’s kid sister. Dating her was out of the question—even if she had had more than two civil words to say to him.
It was better this way, he thought, studying the long legs and smooth, golden skin left exposed by her stretchy white top and little blue skirt. If they’d dated, it wouldn’t have lasted, and it all fell too close to home. When things went south, he’d not only lose a girlfriend, he’d maybe lose two people who were the next best thing to family. This way it just kept being fun.
Except when he had to watch her being monopolized by some guy. Not that it was jealousy or anything.
“…let’s ask J.J.,” a loud voice said beside him.
J.J. tuned back into the conversation. “Ask me what?”
“Whether Eastern European women are more beautiful than Swedish women.” The speaker was another old school friend named Dennis, currently glowering at Tom.
“Everybody knows that Swedish women are the babes of Europe,” Tom argued. “Except Dennis, here.”
“Didn’t you look at your last swimsuit issue? It’s the ones coming from Russia and Eastern Europe who are the beauties. Anyway, J.J., what do you think? You’re probably hooked up with one of each right now, right?”
J.J. grinned. “Ah, gentlemen, I’m flattered by your faith in me but I’ve given up my evil, worthless ways. No more gorgeous blondes with mile-long legs and big, uh,” he glanced at a nearby mother with kids, “personalities. I’m dating only schoolteachers and librarians, now.”
The remark earned him snorts and jeers.
“Give us a break, Cooper. Who’s the babe of the month? C’mon, fill us in,” Tom demanded.
J.J. grinned and finished his beer. “Not on your life. I’m going after another drink,” he announced, and ambled across the room toward the bar—and Lainie.
She never glanced in his direction as he walked over. “The bar’s to your left,” she said pleasantly as he came to a stop beside her.
The guy with her looked at J.J., goggle-eyed. “Hey, J.J. Cooper, wow, I saw you in the Olympics. Remember me, Bart Ziffer? You dated my sister.”
“Now there’s a surprise,” Lainie said under her breath.
“I’ll have to tell her I saw you. She lives in Worcester, now. Got three kids. Hey, I bet they’d like an autograph. Can I get one?”
Lainie gave J.J. a derisive look. “Sure, Speed, give him an autograph. It might be worth a buck or two on eBay if you ever do anything impressive.”
J.J. picked up a cocktail napkin. “Got a pen?”
Bart gave a blank look and patted his pockets. “I don’t think so. Lainie?”
