Or maybe it was her recollection of the mechanic with a smirk so sexy it should be illegal that was doing the job all by itself.
Bellamy sighed. “And I didn’t make a date with anybody. I ran into Shane at the grocery store, and when I mentioned going to the bonfire, he said he might see me. I hardly think it’s a date if he was planning on being here anyway.”
Jenna rolled her empty coffee mug between her gloved palms. “I don’t know. Was it a casual ‘maybe I’ll see you,’” she deadpanned, giving an off-the-cuff wave. “Or was it more hopeful, like ‘maybe I’ll see you…naked’?” She added a waggle of her dark blond brows for emphasis.
“He said maybe he’d see me, like a normal person,” Bellamy insisted. “It’s not a date. He doesn’t even like me, remember?”
Holly scoffed at the protest. “I still think ‘maybe I’ll see you’ qualifies as a date. It implies intent,” she pressed, taking a long draw from her mug.
Bellamy arched a brow. “What are we, in court? A date involves phrases like ‘pick you up at seven’ and ‘are you up for sushi?’. ‘Maybe I’ll see you’ doesn’t count.”
Holly laughed. “Sell stupid somewhere else, sweetie. You tried on three different sweaters and you’ve got that sexy-tousled thing going on with your hair. This is totally a date. And by the way, your hair looks fabulous,” she added.
Jenna nodded her approval, huddling closer for warmth. “You do look pretty hot.”
“Anyway, I don’t know what the big deal is.” Holly shrugged. After the kiss he laid on you last night, a date seems like the next logical step,” Holly said, recovering from her laughter.
“That’s a little backwards, don’t you think? People are supposed to kiss after a date, not before it. And this isn’t a date, anyway.”
Because if it was, Bellamy was on the precipice of getting stood up.
Jenna reached out to squeeze Bellamy’s arm. “Well, whatever it is, you still look fabulous.”
“Thanks for the ego boost.” Bellamy smiled. “The reason my hair looks decent is because I used those pricey samples from the spa, by the way. And Shane probably only said something about seeing me here because I mentioned that we were going. It was pretty causal, sorry to disappoint you.”
Except that when he’d looked at her with those dark eyes and that gut-stirring smile, she’d have sworn that he might have been hoping to see her.
And now she was the one who was disappointed.
Jenna rubbed her gloved hands together, deciding for the moment to let Bellamy out from beneath the date-or-no-date microscope. “God, it’s cold out here. Another coffee would hit the spot. Or at least maybe help me feel my toes again.”
“Oooh, I’m game. Irish coffee is goooooood!” Holly said.
“That’s because you’ve already had two, and we’ve only been here for an hour.” Jenna linked arms with Holly and nodded toward the lodge, with its inviting fireplaces and cozy arm chairs. “Bellamy? Aren’t you coming?”
Bellamy shook her head. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but after walking into a pole last night, I don’t think alcohol is in my best interest. I’ll wait for you guys here.”
“You sure?” Jenna hesitated.
“I’m sure.” She raised a brow along with one corner of her mouth. “But if you two wimp out and cozy up in those chairs by the fireplace, I’m coming in after you.”
As soon as they had turned toward the resort, Bellamy wrapped her arms around her ice blue down parka and rocked back on her heels to try and generate a little body heat. She let her eyes scan the crowd, flitting from face to face for a full minute before commanding herself to knock it off. Shane had definitely said maybe, and there were hundreds of people out here, huddled around. He’d probably just come up with something more interesting to do, that’s all.
Like that brunette from the bar last night.
“Oh, don’t be stupid,” she muttered, her breath escaping in puffy wisps.
“Ouch. I haven’t even said hello yet.”
Bellamy’s eyes flashed wide as she whirled toward the sound of a very male voice coming from right behind her.
As Shane walked through the east gate and onto the near-frozen grounds of the resort, his unease made an encore performance by way of tap dancing through his gut. It was cold as all get out, there was a playoff game on that would’ve looked great from his nice, warm recliner, and being at the resort made him want to break out in hives.
What was it, exactly, that had possessed him to shoot his mouth off like a two-dollar pistol and say he would do this?
Right. The thought of Bellamy’s lips, turned up into that sweet little half-smile, that’s what. Ten minutes, Shane rationalized. If he hadn’t found a reason to stay in ten minutes, he’d hit the road.
Probably.
After nine and a half minutes of milling through the growing crush of the bundled and huddled, a familiar voice called out from behind him.
“Shane? Hey! I didn’t think you’d show.”
Jackson’s voice caught Shane by surprise, but he turned and played it cool, as if standing outside with a couple hundred strangers until his legs went numb was his idea of unparalleled fun.
“Yeah, well, I was at loose ends after swinging by Grady’s. Figured I’d come check it out after all.”
Jackson nodded toward the resort. “You’ve got good timing. I’m running to grab a round of coffee for me and Samantha. I could do without the frilly whipped cream, but I’ve got to say that the Irish whiskey in those things knocks the chill right outta ya. Why don’t you come hang out with us?”
“I don’t want to crash your party, dude.” Shane shifted his weight and skimmed the crowd again with a careful glance.
“Are you kidding? There are tons of people here. It’s not like you’re interrupting anything private. Yet,” Jackson added on a smirk.
A flash of ice blue and blond curls caught the corner of Shane’s eye and held tight, but as soon as he focused, his gut sank.
Bellamy was standing, sweet as could be, maybe ten feet from them. At about ten feet, four inches—and much too close, in Shane’s opinion—stood none other than Marcus Lawrenson. From the look of things, the old cheese bag was laying it on as thick as molasses in the winter, too, leaning in toward Bellamy as she spoke.
Damn it, Shane knew coming here had been a bad idea. A classy girl like her belonged with the ski instructor set, anyway. He turned to give Jackson a sorry excuse and cut a path directly to his recliner. If he was lucky, he’d be able to catch the second half of the game before falling asleep in the thing.
But then the look on Bellamy’s face registered in his brain. Her tight, awkward smile seemed forced, and so at odds with the one she’d given him at the grocery store. Shane’s legs did that independent-thinking thing again, refusing to move while he stared at her. He watched as her eyes skirted the crowd, darting toward the resort whenever Marcus wasn’t paying attention.
She was looking for a lifeline.
“You okay, man?” Jackson waved his hand in front of Shane’s face, bringing him back to earth.