Page 2 of Mine to Possess (Veteran K9 Team #3)

Chapter Two

Betty

O ne of the most common things I hear Colorado natives say to pretty much anyone willing to listen is ‘ If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes ’. As a recent transplant coming from a different type of desert, I have to work hard to not roll my eyes anytime I hear it.

Two months ago, I moved to Spring City, Colorado for the job of a lifetime.

Working for Taylor & Morvick PR Firm, I’ll use my communications degree to set myself up for a career that I hope to love.

Plus, for a smaller firm, their compensation and benefits package is top-notch.

I went from making seventy thousand dollars a year straight out of college in Phoenix to making almost double in a city with a comparable cost of living.

Can you say high roller?

This is my first holiday away from home.

Actually, it’s my first time doing anything away from home, considering I went to ASU and lived with my mom through all four years of school.

We couldn’t afford dormitory living on top of my tuition and that’s with scholarships and grants.

It’s not like I missed out, anyway. I had all the freedom I needed and the same responsibilities I would have had if I lived on campus.

My mom, who might have worse separation anxiety than me, came to visit for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I only moved to Colorado in September, so we haven’t been apart for a full three months.

And yet, I’m so glad she’s here. We’re spending a long weekend splurging at a plush VRBO private residence up the road from the ski village at Silver Mountain.

This is a big deal in so many ways. We’ve never had the disposable income to rent a mini-mansion on a ski slope, much less the dollars to afford lift tickets and ski equipment.

But now…

Thank you, Taylor & Morvick!

“What happened to the clear skies we drove under yesterday?” My mom looks out the big bay window overlooking the ski lifts, where I’m curled up while slurping my second cup of coffee.

Yesterday, we drove through the mountain pass under beautiful, blue skies.

There was no wind, and it was nearly thirty-five degrees.

Last night, the sky was also clear. So when I tell you the stars were heavenly, I don’t have the words to do it justice, which is too bad considering catchy ad copy is on the list of things I’m supposed to do for a living.

Don’t tell my bosses.

I sigh. “I told you, they say if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes.”

She giggles. “I thought you hate it when they say that.”

“I do. It’s obnoxious.”

“But is it true?” She takes my cup of coffee out of my hand and takes a sip.

I frown, snatching my mug back. “Probably.”

“Are we risking the ski slopes this morning?” My mom checks my hip, forcing me to scoot over so she can sit next to me.

“Well, I have my ski lesson at eleven, and I can’t come up with a good reason to cancel.”

“Good. The sooner you learn how to ski, the sooner we’ll be hitting the slopes together. I’ll get changed.”

We are Arizona girls and this is the first time I have ever been knee-deep in snow.

Obviously, I’ve seen it from afar. I think we might’ve even got a fluke snow storm once that accumulated like a half an inch—we attempted to make a pitiful snowman out of it, but of course, as soon as we touched the snow it melted—but my mom grew up in Northern Utah when she was a kid and loves the snow.

For twenty-three years it’s been she and I.

There was a man at one time, but the sperm donor took off before I could hold my head up on my own.

My mom was young when she had me, seventeen and barely out of high school.

The first thing my father did when they found out she was pregnant was move her as far away from her family as possible.

In retrospect, I suppose the move was a good thing, considering both my mother and father’s families are jackasses who wanted nothing to do with her after she became a teenage mother.

They actually blamed her for seducing him—a twenty year old seduced by a seventeen year old vixen. Can you believe it?

So that tells you everything you need to know about my grandparents.

It’s been the two of us for the last twenty-three years.

When I was growing up, my mom didn’t date, didn’t bring men around, and spent all of her time and attention on me.

In a lot of ways, she’s my older sister and my best friend, as well as my mom.

We’ve been attached at the hip my whole life and I know she sacrificed a lot to give me, what I consider, a perfect life.

Life hasn’t always been easy, but we made it work, and now I’d love for her to find a special man who will treat her like the queen she is.

She deserves love and affection, and part of the reason I took a job away from home was to give her the freedom to pursue a relationship that will hopefully heal all of her old wounds.

Will I miss her? Yes.

But the two of us need to get on with our lives.

“Hurry up, Betty. Your lesson may not be until eleven, but we can use the time at the lodge to see what kind of yummies they have on the menu for later.”

“Your sweet tooth and my ass need to break up.” I roll my eyes and carry my coffee cup to the kitchen sink.

She smacks my butt. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with your ass. I could bounce a quarter off of your butt.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so, because something tells me I’m going to be on it a lot today.”

“Pish posh.” She waves me away. “A couple of lessons and you’ll be skiing with me in no time.”

I shake my head as I close my bedroom door. “We can hope.”

Twenty minutes later, I have on more layers of clothing than I think I’ve had on in my entire life.

Cuddle duds—tops and bottoms. Two layers of socks, a fleece sweater, some kind of waterproof overalls—I think the rental staff called them bibs—another cable knit sweater over that, and a ski jacket.

My hat, oversized sunglasses, and gloves are in my pockets.

I’m already red-faced and breaking out into a sweat walking up the ramp to the lodge’s front door.

“I think I have on too many clothes,” I grumble.

“You’ll be fi—” My mom takes one look at my red face and tries to suppress her smile “—ohhh… maybe you can take off your jacket and stuff it in the locker when you get hot.”

I look at the gray skies that seem to get darker as the morning creeps toward noon. “You know, you should get a couple of runs in now. We may not have all afternoon to ski.”

She nods. “I was thinking the same thing. Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself?”

I chuckle. “Mom, I’m twenty-three years old and completely capable of ignoring people by scrolling TikTok on my phone while sitting near the fire in a ski lodge—similar to what I would do at a coffee shop in Spring City.”

She casts me a disappointed purse of her lips. “We need to work on your social skills.”

My mouth falls open. “Who are you talking to?”

Chuckling, she nods. “Okay. We need to work on our social skills. I’m going to get on the lift and tackle this mountain. I will see you in forty-five minutes.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“ A re you Betty?”

I look up from my phone to what I can only describe as a silver fox looming over me.

This man has a youthful face, but his short hair and soft beard have silver sprinkled through the light brown fawn.

As soon as I bring my gaze up to meet him, his forest green eyes sparkle with his gentle smile, and a ball of ooey-gooey warmth hits me in the gut.

God, this man is beautiful.

It’s been a long time since a wave of instant attraction has hit me in the belly like this.

“I am. Are you my torturer for the day?” My caustic tongue throws the words out before my brain can stop them.

His smile widens. “Are you looking to be tortured?”

A handful of responses, none of which are appropriate, run through my brain.

Why not?

By you, yes.

What do you have in mind?

Instead, I press my lips together and move to stand up, struggling to get my knees and elbows to bend with all the material strangling them in place. I swear I have on so many clothes, something easy like standing is taxing my energy reserves.

He grabs a hold of my biceps and pulls me to my feet. We’re standing so close I can smell the clean scent of his soap and a hint of cologne, or aftershave, or maybe it’s body wash. Whatever it is, it’s got a spicy masculine scent that makes me want to lean in and press my nose to his neck.

Would inhaling deeply make me a pervert? Maybe.

Would he welcome it anyway?

“You seem to have on a lot of layers.” He steadies me on my feet, both of his hands gripping my upper arms.

Biting my lip, I tilt my head back to look up at him.

He’s tall, at least six-three, and towers over my five-foot-five frame.

“Too many, honestly, but I’m afraid to take off the jacket because I don’t think I can get it back on if I do.

Do you remember the kid from that one Christmas movie where the mom dresses him for school and he falls down and can't get back up? Yeah, I feel like that.”

He chuckles, a rumble coming from his wide chest. “First time in the snow?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Well, anyone who has played in the snow knows how quickly they overheat with exertion. Since it’s just you and me today on the bunny hill, if you get hot, I’ll undress you.” The tip of his tongue strokes the edge of his incisor as he takes a step back.

He looks at me like I’m dessert, but with this many clothes on, I’m sure he’s confused about what is me and what is packaging. I mean, I look like an abominable snowman. “Don’t let the multiple layers fool you. This is all me underneath.”

“You look perfect.”

Good grief. I thought I was hot before. This guy has my insides on fire. “Are you going to tell me your name?”

“Barron.” He offers his hand. “Nice to meet you. Are you ready to head outside?”

I slip my phone into my breast pocket and shake his perfectly calloused hand, making me wonder what he does when he’s not teaching toddlers and desert dwellers how to spend the day on their asses. “Let’s get this over with.”

“We’ll have fun. I promise. The notes said you had your gear fitted yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Let’s head to the top of the bunny hill.”

We go over some basics: clipping into and popping out of the skis, duck walking and side stepping, maintaining balance, how to turn, how to stop, how to hold the poles.

“Ready for the hard part?” Barron smiles, his eyes going up to the sky.

“Go that way—” I point down the hill “—really fast?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head and then does something completely unexpected by pushing me onto my butt.

“Hey!”

“I’m going to teach you how to stand up in your skis.”

For the next ten minutes, he explains how to position my skis and use my poles to stand up, but it is not happening. I’m hot, sweaty, frustrated—and embarrassed by my clear lack of athletic prowess.

“It’s okay, Betty. I have another way for you to get up.”

He has me roll onto my belly and position my skis in a way that I can come up on my knees. This position feels a lot more stable and the sense of pride and achievement I have when I finally stand up on my own must be clear on my face because he flashes me the biggest smile.

“Hey,” a guy at the bottom of the hill calls up.

Barron waves and the guy rides the magic carpet up and then skis down to us.

This guy is closer to my age and just as handsome, but without the raw ruggedness that my instructor rocks. He’s wearing the same Silver Mountain jacket Barron has on, but his Velcro patch says Search & Rescue instead of Instructor.

He nods at me, his lips tilted in a wry smile. “How’s it going?”

“I successfully stood up on my own.” I offer, because what else can I possibly say about this entire experience? It’s the only achievement I have.

“That’s half the battle. You’ll be on the slopes in no time.”

Smiling, I look from him to Barron, who watches me closely. “Yeah, that’s what I’m told.”

“Forgive my intrusion, but we’re closing down the mountain. The storm is rolling in faster than expected and we’re trying to get everybody sheltered.” He looks at Barron and then back at me. “You were with another woman earlier. Was that your sister?”

He saw us earlier?

Did they both see us earlier?

“My sister? No. That’s my mother.”

“Your mother?” He seems genuinely surprised, but quickly shakes it off. “Do you know where she is right now?”

“No. She took the lifts up, but I don’t know which path she took.”

“Do you think she would’ve gone back to the condo or is waiting for you in the lodge?”

Shaking my head adamantly, a touch of fear tightens my belly. “No. If she had skied down, she would’ve come straight to this hill to watch my lesson.”

He nods, exchanging a glance with Barron. “How good of a skier is she?”

I shrug. “I think she was fantastic when she was a kid, but it’s been twenty years.”

“Okay. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m sure she’ll be down any minute.” He turns to Barron. “The team’s heading up to clear the mountain, but if she checks in, let me know.”

“Okay. Are you taking Li-Lou?”

“Yeah, I think I might.” He turns back to me again. “What’s your mom’s name?”

“Brandi.”