The Trouble With Valentine's Day Read Free

she confessed.
    Surprise lifted one brow and the corners of his mouth. “You don’t?”
    You’d never mistake this man for a male model. Never see his face pushing Dolce & Gabbana or him lying on the beach in a Gucci suit. He was too big. Too masculine. Too male. The full impact of him all too real. “No. Just passing through. It’s been snowing so hard, I had to stop for the night.” He had a tiny white scar just below his soul patch, and his nose looked like it had been broken. It was hardly noticeable really, but Kate was trained to notice everything about a person’s face. And studying this man’s face was pure pleasure.
    â€œHope it clears up.” He snagged the beer bottle in his right hand. “I’m heading out for Bogus Basin in the morning.”
    â€œAre you a ski bum?”
    â€œDuring the winter months, pretty much. After Bogus, we’ll hit Targhee and Jackson Hole before heading to Colorado.”
    We’ll? “Are you here with friends?”
    â€œYeah, my buddies are still out on the slopes.” He hooked the heels of his boots on the bottom rung of his stool, and his wide-spread knees brushed the outside of her thigh.
    The casual touch did something to her insides. It wasn’t exactly instant, remorseless lust, but it was something. “Why aren’t you out there with them?” Buddies. As in male friends. Men didn’t generally refer to female friends as buddies.
    He raised the beer to his lips. “Knees acting up,” he answered and took a long drink.
    But there was little doubt in her mind that this guy had a woman in his life. Probably more than one. “Skiing with buddies on Valentine’s Day?”
    He watched her through those green eyes of his as he lowered the bottle. “Is it Valentine’s Day?” he asked and sucked a drop of beer from his top lip.
    Kate smiled. The fact that he didn’t know meant he probably didn’t have anyone serious in his life right now. “Every year on the fourteenth of February.”
    He looked about the room as if really seeing it for the first time. “Ahh. That explains the hearts.”
    Her gaze lowered past the mustache framing his mouth and chin, down the wide column of his thick neck to the hollow of his tan throat. “I think we’re the only two in here who aren’t a couple.”
    â€œDon’t tell me you’re here alone?”
    Kate returned her gaze to his and laughed. She liked the way he’d said that, as if he found it hard to believe. “Yeah, go figure.” In her favorite fantasy, she was trapped with a hunk of man in Nordstrom’s shoe department. “How about you? Anyone going to be angry with you for forgetting Valentine’s Day?”
    â€œNope.”
    She’d never set a fantasy in a ski lodge, but she was thinking about it now. She couldn’t help it. The man was throwing off pheromones like he was a nuclear reactor at Chernobyl. Sitting so close to ground zero, the fallout was lethal.
    He pushed up the sleeves of his flannel shirt and exposed what appeared to be the tail of a snake or some sort of reptile on his thick left forearm. “Is that a snake?”
    â€œYeah. That’s Chloe. She’s a sweetheart.”
    Right. The tattoo was dark gold with black-and-white bands and appeared so real she leaned in for a closer look. The scales were perfectly defined, and without giving it a thought, Kate reached out and touched his bare arm. “What kind of snake is she?” She half expected to feel cool scales instead of warm, smooth flesh.
    â€œAn Angolan python.”
    Python. Yikes! “How big?” Kate looked back up into his face. Something hot and sensual shimmered within the green depths of his eyes. A need that made her pulse jump and tingles spread up her wrists.
    He raised the beer to his mouth and looked away. “Five feet.” He took a long drink, and when he returned