Page 161 of The Havenport Collection

Maggie

O n one hand, I relished being outside with Josh doing something like this. We had spent so much time running and hiking together in our younger days, and it was such a nice change of pace to spend the day outdoors.

But on the other hand? Damn him. His lack of job and ability to work out every day meant he was in really good shape.

And I was definitely lagging behind. Not that I was complaining about my vantage point.

I couldn’t stop staring at his butt in his snow pants.

Who’d have thought snow pants could be ass-flattering?

But here he was, proving they were, and his rear end looked especially round and muscular.

I didn’t remember that ass. Obviously, I’d have to get my hands on it for further inspection, but for now, I’d have to formulate a working hypothesis based on snow pants alone.

“Stop staring at my ass, Maggie,” he shouted over his shoulder, laughing. He was gaining elevation and not even breaking a sweat. “And to answer your question, Lucas has been making me do a lot of squats.”

I ignored him and focused on the trail ahead of me and the rhythmic swish of my snowshoes. I could stare at his backside if I wanted to. It wasn’t against the law. I’d married that ass. I put a ring on it. If I wanted to enjoy it instead of the mountain views, that was my God-given right.

We reached a clearing, and he handed me his water bottle.

My legs were shaking and my lungs were burning, but I felt good.

The quiet and stillness of the trail was helping to clear my head.

But today’s adventure made it obvious I that needed to step up my workouts.

It didn’t help that Josh had stripped off a layer and I could see his back muscles flex through his fleece.

He really was giving me quite the show today.

He smirked at me. “I’ve been working out with Lucas a lot.”

I nodded. “At the gym?”

“No, he has a gym at his house. It’s insane.”

I laughed. “Of course Wayne Manor has a sweet gym.” Lucas Kim had been a great friend to Josh over the years, but I was still wary of our hometown billionaire.

I had trouble trusting anyone that wealthy, and I had acquired a healthy skepticism of him from Nora.

They were mortal enemies, for reasons unknown, and I was loyal to my friend.

Josh rolled his eyes at me and turned back to the trail. “I’d say we’re about thirty minutes from the hut. Let’s keep going.”

The fresh air was brisk and cold, and the temperature plummeted as we got farther up the trail.

I was sweaty and out of breath, but the tree line was ahead, and I knew the views would be worth it.

I kept up my pace, getting into the groove and finally relaxing.

I loved the mountains, and this beat the hell out of cleaning my house or picking up another shift at work.

“We’re almost there,” he called over his shoulder.

I’d forgotten how nice it felt to be in the woods. To experience the peace and tranquility of nature, especially in the winter. After a few minutes, the summit came into view, as did the hut situated nearby.

The Appalachian Mountain Club had huts strategically placed in the White Mountains for hikers and campers passing through.

They offered showers, food, bunks, and the chance to meet people from around the world.

In our younger days, Josh and I hiked up here a lot, spending the night in the huts after summiting several peaks.

It felt good to be back, although this particular location was closed for the winter.

We headed over to the old wraparound porch made of tree limbs and dropped our packs.

“What do you think?” he asked, rummaging around in his backpack.

“There are a lot worse places to be,” I said, dropping to the bottom step to remove my snowshoes and stretch. The views were spectacular, the cold air was invigorating, and for once, I appreciated the lack of cell signal.

I sat and enjoyed the views while Josh fired up his camping stove. In minutes, he was handing me a steaming mug of coffee.

“You are pretty handy on the mountaintop, Josh.” I inhaled the divine scent, letting the heat of the mug seep into my gloves and warm my hands.

“I learned from the best.” He gave me a wink.

Josh had grown up near the city and had never hiked or camped before we met.

The mountains had always been a second home to me, so over the years, I’d taught him the skills I’d picked up as a girl scout and on camping trips with my dad.

He was a quick study, and together we’d had some epic adventures up in these mountains.

When I’d taken him to buy his first sleeping bag at REI, he was overwhelmed by all the choices and lingo and had wanted to get the cheaper but heavier model.

It took me an hour, but I’d successfully talked him out of it, telling him he would thank me someday when we had to haul less weight across a mountain range.

Fifteen years later, he still had that bright orange sleeping bag and used it on camping trips with the kids.

Every time he unrolled it, I couldn’t help but smile.

It was a small reminder of a simpler, slower time in my life.

Josh held out a gooey chocolate chip cookie.

“Where did you get that?” I asked, eyeing what looked like a freshly baked treat.

“Janet, the house manager. She left them for us. I thought you’d want a snack.”

I was ravenous, and they looked amazing. “Gimme,” I said, lunging at him.

He raised his hand up, moving the cookie out of my reach, and quickly leaned in and kissed me on the lips.

I was stunned and more than a bit aroused. My thighs clenched in my snow pants and my heart began to race. I froze, trying to make sense of my body’s response, but decided to lean into it and kissed him back gently.

“What was that for?” I asked, a little kiss drunk.

He shrugged and held the cookie out to me. “I felt like it. You look adorable and I wanted to kiss you. I figured could lure you in with something sweet.”

I stared at the treat in my hand, confused and more than a little turned on.

Josh was so sweet and so sexy, and we were back in the mountains together.

It was like my body was reverting back to a previous setting.

Like muscle memory. My stomach did a little flip, and I scooted closer to him.

He wrapped one strong arm around me, and I rested my head on his chest, reveling in the familiar, comfortable way we fit together.

We sat for a few minutes, eating our cookies and staring out at the snow-capped mountains.

“Do you remember the first time I took you skiing?” I asked, sipping my rapidly cooling coffee.

“How could I forget? I’m still emotionally scarred from that trip.”

In college, a group of us had crammed into the back of a classmate’s station wagon for a ski weekend.

My roommate’s parents had a condo in the mountains, so we headed up and slept on the floor.

Josh had never skied before, and I had only been a few times in my life, but most of our friends were experts, having grown up on the slopes.

We’d peeled off from the group and hit the bunny slope together.

Turns out I was a natural. Having spent a lot of my childhood ice skating, I figured out the basics and remained upright relatively easily.

Conversely, Josh was not. He fell constantly—while standing, while moving, and while getting on and off the chairlift.

When we got back to campus, his entire lower body was covered in bruises. He could barely sit for a week.

“I couldn’t fit in my jeans because my ass was so swollen.”

I elbowed him in the ribs. “It was adorable. The amazing Josh Hardy, natural athlete, wiping out on the bunny slope. I fell in love with you even more that weekend.”

He beamed at me, his eyes sparkling and the grin on his face bigger than any I’d seen from him in years.

He was adorable, and I was ridiculous. I stuffed my mouth full of cookie to avoid saying anything else embarrassing.

It was true; he was totally humbled by our first day on the slopes, but in typical Josh fashion, he went back the next day and improved.

And again the next winter. He was persistent and determined, and eventually he became an excellent skier.

And when our kids were born, we got them on skis immediately, taking lessons as a family.

Now we were all fairly competent, and Josh loved to laugh about it.

He squeezed me harder, pulling me closer, his masculine scent mixing with the fresh mountain air. We ate, sipped coffee, and enjoyed the silence—a happy, companionable silence, so unlike the tense, frustrated kind we were used to.

In the last year, we had spent a lot of time vacillating between not talking about anything and talking about everything.

For years before that, our conversations had revolved around summer camp plans for the kids and scheduling maintenance on our house—the essential yet sometimes soul sucking topics.

And we had simply ignored everything else. Thoughts, feelings, dreams, goals. Like they didn’t exist. Instead, we filled our time with discussions about replacing the air conditioning filters and whether Ava was old enough for a cell phone yet.

Sitting together, enjoying each other, letting the silence linger—these were things we hadn’t done in a long time

“We should head down soon. The forecast said we may get more snow tonight,” Josh said, looking out at the horizon.

Together we packed up our gear and set off down the trail, moving slowly above the tree line because it was so steep and rocky.

“Do you think they’re okay? The kids?” I asked, seized by sudden insecurity.

Josh stopped and tilted his head while he regarded me. “They’re amazing kids, and yes, they’re okay. They have two parents who love the shit out of them. It’s been a weird and confusing year, but they continue to impress me with their empathy and their maturity.”

“We’re really lucky.”

“Yes, we are. Now get your ass down the mountain, Leary, ‘cause I’m cooking you dinner.”