Shooting for the Stars (17 page)

“What?”

He shook his head.

Stella made two fists and struck them against her knees. “Just tell me, okay? For once, just level with me.”

Bear grunted with irritation. “The sponsor insists that Hank sign on, or they won’t give me the green light. So I’m going to have to drop most of the project.”

“Why?”

“Because I won’t pressure him to do something he’s not ready for, just to further my project.
Jesus
.”

Stella winced. “Okay.”

“It was supposed to help both of us.”

“But not me.” Stella sighed. “Because that would be taking things too far.”

“Buddy, don’t.” He leaned over and yanked a file folder off the bed. Flipping through the itinerary to the back, he handed her a page.

She read it. He could tell the moment she found her name on the page, because her chin snapped up. “You want to shoot in Bella Coola? With me? And Duku?”

“I know you wanted to go to Alaska. But there are too many bad-weather days in the Chugach. I was afraid we’d get all the gear and the crew there and get nothing. So I chose British Columbia. And I knew you’d be awesome.”

Her face softened. “Wow. I would have really loved to go.”

“I know, buddy. I wasn’t going to talk to you about it until I was sure it would happen.” That was almost the whole truth. He didn’t reveal that he still hadn’t figured out how he could take Stella to a remote mountainside in the wildest part of Canada and not make a fool of himself again.

Her gaze dropped to her lap. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“It’s okay.” There was a long moment of silence, but it was an easier one than they’d shared in a long time. “Can I offer you a really shitty brand of beer? It’s the house special here at the Barry Bachelor Pad.”

A smile flared in Stella’s glassy eyes. She tipped her chin and laughed. “Thanks, but no. I get enough shitty beer at work these days.”

“I’ll bet.”

Stella’s eyes traced the wood beams over her head. “I always liked this house.”

“Jesus, why?” He’d never been ashamed of their little house, but the place didn’t have the magic of the Lazarus home, with its soaring stone fireplace and floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Your house always reminded me of storybooks. I had a picture book about a family of bears who lived in a log home.”

“Did someone named Goldilocks come along and drink the good beer?”

Stella laughed, and the low, rough sound of it touched something inside his chest. “I think she did.”

“What a bitch.”

She gave him one more smile, and Bear wondered if maybe one little part of tonight had gone okay.

After he walked Stella out, Bear put his beer can in the recycling bin, and poured himself a cup of many-hours-old coffee. He’d need to spend tonight cyber-stalking alternative sponsors for his film. But it was probably hopeless. It was snowing out west already, and time was short.

While his coffee spun around in the microwave, his father walked into the kitchen with his own empties. “Why was she here?” he asked without preamble.

Bear bit back the urge to give his father a teenager’s answer.
None of your business
. “We had a misunderstanding,” he said instead. “It’s sorted out now.”

“Whatever you did to that girl, apologize. And stay the hell away. You cannot get involved with her.”

Bear just stood there, choking on his anger. He didn’t know which was worse — the fact that the man would tell his own son to his face he wasn’t good enough for Stella Lazarus, or the fact that it was true. “I am not involved with her,” he said through a tight jaw. “We’re not kids though. So I don’t see why anyone but the two of us would care.”
 

He couldn’t even look at the old man right now. His dad didn’t actually give a crap about Bear’s feelings for Stella. He only cared that Barry Electrical might be passed over for a contract if his wayward son was boinking the boss’s daughter.

He removed his mug from the nuker and stalked past his father.

Sixteen

S
EVERAL
DAYS
LATER
, S
TELLA
received a six a.m. call from the manager at the ski hill asking her to sell season passes behind the desk that day.

Stella didn’t bother arguing. When your family owned a ski hill, it was all hands on deck for the first powder day of the season. When the mountain needed to open two weeks ahead of schedule, there was no point in arguing you were no longer an employee. If it snowed on November eighth, you
were
an employee, whether you wanted to be or not.

November eighth was early for skiable snow in Vermont. Very early.

For most people in the world, the weather was just a backdrop. Skiable snow in November meant children got an unexpected day off from school. And Vermonters without garages spent an unexpected hour or two digging out their cars. Merchants in town probably felt a little less guilty about sneaking Christmas decorations into the store windows before everyone’s Halloween candy was eaten.

For Stella the snow wasn’t a distraction or an inconvenience. It was a harbinger of the competition season. As she stood behind the counter of the Members Services Desk at the ski lodge all day, she felt her first wave of optimism in months. Each time the doors opened to admit another customer, Stella got a whiff of snowy air. That smell — like pine needles and ice — was the scent of her whole life.

She’d been on her feet for seven hours when quitting time finally arrived. Thankfully she wasn’t on the schedule at Rupert’s tonight.

She locked the cash drawer and waved to Mary, the manager. Her jacket under one arm, she stepped out into the white. It was four o’clock, and the sun was low over the ridge. Gently-falling flurries stuck to her eyelashes. She shook them off, hurrying toward the Red Barn, the on-mountain bar. Her brother had texted her an hour ago, urging her to join him over there when she could.

As she pulled the door open, the sound of après ski revelry greeted her ears. The Red Barn was packed full of skiers and snowboarders, all of them still wearing snowpants (and, in many cases, unfortunate helmet hair.) Stella scanned the place, looking for Hank. Naturally her gaze snagged on Bear’s broad shoulders first.

Stella’s heart tripped over itself, the way it always did when she spotted him across the room.

Steady
, she coached herself. After their chat last week she’d promised herself she would put on her big girl panties and stop hiding from him. Stella wove through the crowd towards the table Bear and Hank had somehow snagged in a prime spot right up against the window.

Closing in on them, Stella noticed a couple of important details. First, Callie Anders was sitting with Hank and Bear. Though he hadn’t really confided in her about it, Stella knew Hank had been pining after the doctor for the last month or so. From the looks of things, it seemed Hank had won her over. The two of them were smiling at each other like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

Instinctively, Stella’s eyes flicked to Bear’s. Since the two of them had quietly endured Hank’s last relationship, they’d become very good at exchanging silent information.

Look who’s here
, Bear’s eyes said.

This is good, right?
Stella replied silently.

Bear smiled at her, and Stella felt a rush of love for him. It was a knee-melting smile, for sure. But it was also good to have back even a narrow edge of their old friendship.

“Stell-Bell!” her brother called. “They let you out of the salt mines already? Somebody get this girl a drink!”

“Hi, Stella,” Callie greeted her.

“Hi guys. How was opening day? Tell me everything.”

“It was awesome,” Hank said immediately.

Hell
. Stella couldn’t even guess how long it had been since Hank had last used that word. Maybe a year.

“…My new toy works great,” Hank went on. “You should see me go.”
 

He’d been given a sit-ski by one of his sponsors after the accident. Stella had been shocked this morning to hear he’d planned to try it out on the first snow day of the year. But her brother was a hardcore athlete and a hardcore personality. Always had been.

“I wish I could have seen you ride it,” she said. Although the sight of Hank taking a run down the hill would probably only have made her cry.

Bear took out his phone, tapped the screen a few times and handed it over. Stella touched the “play” icon on the video he’d queued up, and squinted at the whiteness on the screen. She was about to say she couldn’t see anything when a figure came into view at the upper left-hand corner of the screen. Moving fast, Hank’s seated form made gorgeous s-turns down the hill, alternately extending a pair of odd, ski-footed poles to either side as he curved through the snow.

It looked effortless.

“Oh, damn,” Stella whispered, blinking back tears.

Her brother reached across the table and punched her in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Lighten up already. Life is good.” Hank lifted his beer and drained it.

Stella glanced at Bear again, because it would have been impossible not to.
Lighten up?
She telegraphed. It was the very thing Hank had been unable to do for the past eleven months.

I know
, Bear’s eyebrow lift replied.
Be happy
, his smile suggested.

Good point.

“So.” Stella cleared her throat. “How did the skiing go today, Callie? Was it really your first time?”

The pretty doctor beamed. “I was on my backside just as often as my feet. But I’m still counting it as a success.”

“Who did Hank find to teach you?” The mountain had dozens of ski instructors on staff.

Callie pointed one index finger at Hank and another one at Bear.

“What?” Stella gasped. “You know they haven’t worn skis in fifteen years, right? That, and they’re terrible teachers.”

Hank clutched his heart in mock distress. “Little girl, we taught you everything you know.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Stella said, trying to flag down a passing waitress, but the poor overworked soul did not spot her. “See, all those times you said, ‘just jump off of it, Stella. Don’t be a baby,’ did not actually teach me much about technique. It only taught me that bruises heal, and I’d better grow up quick and kick both your asses.”

Hank and Bear both burst out laughing, and again, Stella marveled. She hadn’t heard unrestrained glee from her brother in far too long. And the fact that everyone was smiling made it just a little easier to be near Bear today.

Stella smiled back at them, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. Outside the window, snow was still falling in pretty, little flakes. If she could only get a drink, this afternoon would be perfect. “I’m going to go over to the bar. Anyone need anything?” She slid off her stool.

“I’ll come with you,” Bear said.

Stella maneuvered through the crowd, parking herself at the only available corner of the bar. Seconds later, she felt Bear slide in behind her, grazing the backs of her legs with his own. He was so close that she could feel the heat of his body at her back.

“What do you think?” he whispered.

Who could think at all with him so close? Stella took a steadying breath, and fingered the twenty dollar bill in her hand. “I can’t believe how happy he looks,” she said.

“I know, right? Listening to them making plans today… It sounds like the real deal.”

“Basically,” Stella taunted him, “you’ve spent months trying to cheer him up. And all he needed was a little nookie.”

Bear laughed, and his nearness meant she could feel the rumble in her chest.
God
. What she wouldn’t give to feel the scruff of his beard again as he kissed her neck…

Enough
, she coached herself.
You’re only making yourself crazy
.

“You know it hurts me to agree with you about anything, but it seems that a little lovin’ has made Hank into a brand new man,” Bear said.

She tipped her chin back, catching an oblique view of his face. “Shame it didn’t work on you, though.”

His eyes went wide. “
Stella
.”

“What — I can’t even make a little joke?” The bartender materialized in front of her, and she had to turn her attention to him. “I’d like a Heady Topper, and whatever this guy wants.” She jerked her thumb toward Bear, who ordered a beer and two sodas.

Bear cleared his throat. “You’ll never guess what Hank told me this morning.”

“What?”

“He wants to do my movie.”

Stella was so surprised she spun around to see him properly. “Seriously?”

Bear swallowed — something Stella noticed because they were full frontal now. Stella’s girlie parts quivered from the proximity. “That’s what he said.” Bear’s voice was gruff.

Stella reached up to put a hand on his chest. “That’s great. Does that mean you get to call OverSight and tell them to cut you a check?”

Bear didn’t answer right away. He seemed distracted, his eyes flicking down to where her hand rested on his shirt. “Probably,” he whispered. They stared at each other for a long second. The nearness of Bear’s mouth was making Stella’s brain short circuit. Finally, Bear’s gaze lifted, catching on something over Stella’s shoulder. “The drinks are ready.”

Right
.

Stella turned around and plucked two glasses off the bar. Bear reached around her to grab the other two. For one glorious second, he was wrapped around her, the way she’d always wanted.
 

Then he put his credit card down on the bar, lifted the glasses, and disappeared into the crowd.

Stella stood there a moment longer, gathering her wits. She was just going to have to get better at covering up her reactions to him. She closed her hands around the two drinks she was meant to carry, and steered herself back to their table.

When she sat back down, Stella gave Callie a smile. She tried to make it a friendly one. But it may have also implied,
if you break my brother’s heart, I will kill you in your sleep
.

“So, back to this movie…” her brother said.

Bear grinned over the rim of his glass. “For two months I can’t get you to talk about it. Now it’s your only topic.”