Falling Hard (Colorado High Country #3) by Pamela Clare


  Pauline’s smile went tight. “I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

  Damned straight she would.

  When it was time for her lunch break, she grabbed the supply list and went down to the loading dock. She’d never been down here before, so she had to ask one of the janitors for help finding the right room. She opened the door, stopped, and stared, her heart sinking.

  How was she supposed to inventory this?

  The supplies weren’t organized or sitting in neat piles. Everything was stacked chest-high on three large pallets and wrapped tightly in plastic. It would take Ellie hours to break the stacks down, separate everything, do an inventory, and load up the pallets again. There was no way she could do this on her lunch break.

  Pauline had said to delegate, but who had time for this? Every single person who’d signed up to volunteer had jobs. Most had families. She couldn’t just dump this mess in someone else’s lap.

  Her cell phone buzzed.

  A text from Jesse. He’d sent a photo.

  She clicked, her pulse skipping at the sight of his face. It was a selfie of him riding the chair lift, a big smile on his face. A text message followed.

  SITREP: IT’S AFTERNOON, AND I’M STILL ALIVE. HOW’S YOUR DAY?

  Her heart melted.

  She typed back.

  I’M GLAD YOU’RE IN ONE PIECE.

  She told him about the inventory issue and how it was all stacked high and wrapped in plastic and how she was going to have to come in on a day off this week to get it done in time.

  I HAVE AN IDEA. HANG ON…

  She waited for another message, but nothing came. Figuring he’d gotten caught up in something on the job, she headed back up to the ER. She’d just reached the nurse’s station with her lunch when her phone rang, the number unknown.

  “Hey, Ellie. It’s Megs. Jesse tells me you’ve got a shitload of medical supplies that need to be inventoried before SnowFest this weekend.”

  “That’s true.”

  “If you tell me what time we should be there, I’ll ask for volunteers to come and help. I have an army of them, and they’re always trying to suck up and get on my good side. And, honey, we do inventory like nobody’s business.”

  Chapter 14

  Jesse had just started his end-of-day sweeps when he got a page from Megs. He slid to a stop and scrolled through it.

  MORETTI’S GF NEEDS HELP WITH INVENTORY OF SUPPLIES FOR SNOWFEST. MEET AT 1800 HRS AT HOSPITAL LOADING DOCK.

  Moretti’s girlfriend?

  That should have bugged Jesse, but it didn’t. What else could he call Ellie? She wasn’t just his neighbor. They’d fucked each other’s brains out. They’d slept together—actually slept—in her bed. He’d watched her sing her little girl to sleep, and it had melted his heart¸ the image of Daisy snuggling against Ellie’s breast burned into his memory. It was the purest expression of femininity he’d ever seen.

  You’re falling for her—falling hard.

  Nah, man, that was crazy. No way. He’d only known her for two weeks.

  In that time, you’ve gone from never having spoken with her to having the key to her house. What does that tell you?

  So he liked her. He liked her a lot. But falling in love? No.

  He shoved the pager into his pocket and pointed the tips of his skis downhill, determined to put her out of his mind for a while.

  But what if he was falling for her? Shouldn’t he do something to stop himself?

  Yeah? Like what?

  He could end it. He could return Ellie’s key. He could tell her it was just sex.

  But it wasn’t just sex. It had never been just sex—not with Ellie. And why would he want to end it when being with her made him feel … happy?

  And he was happy when he was with her. Here he was skiing by himself through some of the most beautiful terrain on the planet, and all he could think about was Ellie. And the worst part was that he was okay with this. He was smiling about it, grinning ear to ear. Because that is what she did to him.

  You’re hopeless, Moretti.

  He spotted a couple of snowboarders about to drop into an out-of-bounds shoot on the other side of the orange plastic security fence. “Idiots.”

  Did they want to die in an avalanche?

  He skied through a gap someone had cut in the fence. The two were smoking a joint, so they didn’t see him coming up behind them until he slid to a stop. “Don’t even think about it.”

  He confiscated their pot and their season passes and asked whether they had cut the fence—a crime.

  “No, man, it was already like that,” said the taller of the two. “That’s why we crossed. We figured maybe it was okay.”

  “You figured wrong.” He skied with them down the slope, ignoring their whining and yammering and all the names they called him.

  “Bastard fuck.”

  “Loser.”

  “Pencil prick.”

  When they reached the lodge, he held up their passes. “You can pick these up at the main office in two weeks—unless we catch you breaking in or skiing out of bounds in the meantime. If that happens, you’re out for the season. And leave the weed at home. It’s legal, but not here. Got it?”

  “Way to be an asshole, man,” one of them muttered as they walked away, carrying their snowboards. “Weed thief.”

  Jesse skied to the ski patrol chalet, stepped out of his skis, and carried them inside together with the joint and the bag of weed.

  The moment he stepped through the door, the chalet exploded into cheers and applause.

  Hell.

  It was an ambush. All the patrollers were there. Even the resort’s general manager, a former patroller named Brent Arthur, had come.

  Arthur shook his hand, then saw the weed. “Looks like you came ready to party.”

  Jesse was about to say that it wasn’t his weed, that he’d taken it from a pair of snowboarders when Arthur pointed at him and laughed.

  “Look at his face. He thought I meant it.”

  Everyone seemed to find this hilarious.

  “I just wanted to thank you for saving lives yesterday, including your own. You did one hell of a job. I’ve never lost a patroller, and I aim to keep it that way.”

  More cheers and applause.

  Jesus.

  “On behalf of Scarlet Mountain Resort, I want to give you this.” Arthur held out a piece of paper that turned out to be a gift certificate for an overnight stay in one of the lodge’s luxury suites. “Kick back and relax a bit. That’s an order.”

  “Thanks.” Jesse’s gaze fixed on the words hot tub.

  And, damn, if that didn’t give him some ideas.

  Ellie walked toward the back door that opened onto the loading dock with the six-page supply list and a pen in hand. She’d told her mother not to expect her until after nine. Even if Megs turned up with a few people, it was going to take a long time to sort through all this stuff.

  She pushed open the back door—and stared. “Wow.”

  A dozen Team members, all wearing bright yellow Rocky Mountain Search & Rescue Team T-shirts, stood in groups of twos and threes, talking and joking with one another. They stopped when she stepped out, heads turning. She knew some of them—Megs, of course, and Austin and Eric. The others she recognized from the benefit at Knockers. Sasha Dillon. Harrison Conrad. Creed Herrera. Mitch Ahearn. Nicole Turner. Malachi O’Brien. Kenzie Morgan. Chaska Belcourt.

  “I think she’s happy to see us,” Megs said.

  “You have no idea.”

  Jesse came around the corner, yellow T-shirt stretched over a black turtleneck, his hair windblown from a day on the slopes. “Sorry, I’m late.”

  “Yeah, what’s with that, Moretti?” Creed joked.

  Ellie led them to the storage room, flicked on the lights, and explained the situation to Megs. “The supplies for the first-aid tent are on these three pallets. Once they’re inventoried, they have to be put back on the pallets and wrapped up again, because that’s how they’
re going to be transported.”

  “May I? It goes faster this way.” Megs took the inventory sheet from Ellie and plucked the staple out of the corner, turning it into six separate sheets. She handed one to Ellie, kept one for herself, and gave the other four to four volunteers.

  Ellie was confused.

  “Listen up, folks.” Megs raised her voice to be heard over the chatter. “This stuff needs to go back on the pallets just the way we found it. Stack each pile in reverse order so that we don’t have trouble later. Otherwise, it’s just like we do it at The Cave. Got it?”

  Megs turned to Ellie. “They’ll call out each item as they remove it from the pallet and wait till they hear one of us repeat what they’ve said and say ‘Check.’ The hardest part is just keeping up with them. Okay. Let’s roll.”

  Jesse, Austin, and Eric ripped the plastic off the three pallets, and the Team went to work. Ellie was afraid it would be chaos. In truth, it was efficient and fast.

  “Exam gloves, nitrile, five-hundred count.”

  Ellie searched her page, but it was Megs who answered. “Exam gloves, nitrile, five-hundred count. Check.”

  “Adhesive bandages, three-eighths by one-and-three-quarters.”

  “Adhesive bandages, three-eighths by one-and-three-quarters. Check.”

  “Alcohol prep pads.”

  Ellie found that on her list. “Alcohol prep pads. Check.”

  “Emergency hand warmers.”

  “Emergency hand warmers. Check.”

  They quickly fell into a rhythm, and in far less time than she had imagined, the pallets were bare, supplies piled neatly beside them.

  She, Megs, Mitch, Harrison, Kenzie, and Nicole, went over their lists to make sure they had accounted for everything.

  “Blankets?” Nicole asked.

  No one had seen that. The AEDs weren’t there, nor were any of the oxygen supplies she’d ordered or the IV fluid warmer or the heating pads or the cots.

  Jesse peered over her shoulder. “So, apart from the important stuff, it’s all here.”

  “Looks like it.” Ellie would have to get on this first thing tomorrow.

  “All right, folks,” called Megs, her voice rising over the joking and the chatter. “Let’s put it back just the way we found it. Sasha, this isn’t the rock gym.”

  Ellie glanced up… and her pulse skipped. “Holy shit!”

  Sasha had climbed an I-beam almost to the ceiling.

  Megs shook her head. “I can’t take them anywhere.”

  But beneath Megs’ deadpan exterior, Ellie could see the deep affection she felt for every member of the Team and her pride in their abilities.

  Fifteen minutes later, the pallets were piled high again, Jesse, Austin, and Eric wrapping them tightly with plastic wrap they took from a big dispenser on the wall.

  From start to finish, it had taken less than an hour.

  Ellie looked around the room. “I am so grateful for your help. Thank you all. Thanks, Megs.”

  “Thank Jesse. He’s the one who sent up the flare.”

  He stood near the door with Austin, Eric, and Creed, laughing about something.

  “I will.” Oh, she most definitely would.

  Jesse came home, hit the shower, then put a steak in the oven on broil. He nuked a potato to go with it, grabbed some leftover salad out of the fridge, and called it good. By the time he had cleaned up, it was just after eight. He turned on the news but was too restless for that. He popped in a climbing DVD, watched the Stone Monkeys fuck around on El Cap for a while, but even that couldn’t distract him.

  He wanted to be with her.

  The past two nights when he’d gone over, he’d waited until after nine to make sure the twins would be asleep. But what did it matter whether the kids were asleep? What was the worst thing two little kids could do? Cry? Throw up? Poop on him? Give him strep again? He could deal with that. And if they were going to crawl into bed with him and Ellie in the middle of the night anyway…

  He sent her a quick text.

  ON MY WAY.

  He’d just started for the back door when she replied.

  GIVE ME FIVE MINUTES.

  Okay.

  He gave her eight just to be sure, then followed the well-trodden path through the snow to her back door. The house looked dark, except for a faint light coming from the kitchen. He was about to knock when he noticed a note stuck to the door.

  Use your key and come inside where it’s warm.

  He unlocked the door, stepped into the kitchen, and took off his boots and parka. Ellie wasn’t there. She’d lit candles and set them on the table, their flickering light falling on a tumbler of scotch, which sat on a second note.

  I’m waiting for you.

  His heart gave a knock, blood rushing to his groin.

  Holy fuck.

  He took a sip of the scotch—damned good stuff—then walked back to her bedroom, anticipation putting his senses on high alert.

  She lay on the bed in a black lace bra and tiny panties that revealed more than they concealed, her skin gleaming in the candlelight.

  “Jesus.” Some primitive part of him wanted to fall on his knees to worship her—erotic dream-come-true, angel, goddess.

  She sat up, got gracefully to her feet and walked toward him, her breasts swelling above the bra, her nipples just visible. “You’ve been a very good boy.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

  She undressed him, his erect cock springing free, doing the talking for him.

  She stroked the length of him, then pointed to the bed. “Lie down.”

  He obeyed, part of him rendered stupid by lust, the rest of him curious to see what she planned to do.

  She straddled his legs, took his cock in her hand, gave it a few exploratory strokes, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “Tell me what feels good, okay?”

  This felt good—so far all of it felt good. “Yeah.”

  Then she bent down and took him into her mouth.

  Pleasure shot through him, making his hips jerk. “Christ.”

  She teased the sensitive head with her tongue, flicking him just beneath the rim, swirling circles over him, sucking on the tip. If she was trying to drive him crazy, she was doing one hell of a job, the stimulation a sweet kind of torture.

  Not wanting to miss a thing, he reached down, slid a hand into her hair, and moved the strands aside. God, she was beautiful, the sight of her mouth on his cock stunningly erotic. “Ellie.”

  He didn’t know whether to beg for mercy or to beg for more, his cock aching for her, aching to be inside her. He reached with his free hand, undid the clasp on her bra, watched her breasts fall free. He palmed them, the feel adding to his arousal. But, God, what she was doing with her lips just now, nibbling him …

  As if she knew he couldn’t take much more, she tightened the grip she had on the base of his cock and took all of him into her mouth.

  “Jesus, Ellie.”

  She moved her mouth and hand together up and down his length, one sensation colliding with the next. The swirl of her tongue. The tight sheath of her hand. The wet heat of her mouth. He was lost now, lost in sensation, lost just knowing that she was doing this to him.

  Ah, God, it felt good, so damned good, so fucking perfect.

  His entire body was rigid now, both hands clenched in her hair, his balls drawing tight as she drove him closer to the edge. He fought to relax, tried to make it last, but she was merciless. Tighter. Faster. She was too damned good at this. He gave himself over to the inevitable, let pleasure carry him away.

  Climax blasted through him in a scorching wave of white hot bliss, the breath leaving his lungs in shudders as she finished him with her mouth.

  He lay there for a moment, somewhere between life and death, heart thrumming in his chest, his body relaxed. He opened his eyes to find her stretched out beside him, watching him, her gaze soft, a little smile on her wet, swollen lips.

  His heart went soft, th
e tenderness he felt for her overwhelming him. He reached up, cupped her cheek. “Have I ever told you how much I love your dirty mouth?”

  Ellie snuggled against him, feeling insanely aroused, but knowing Jesse was spent for now. “Did I surprise you?”

  “Did you surprise me?” He chuckled, a soft deep sound. “Honey, you blew my mind. You almost killed me.”

  “Good.” It had been amazing to see all of that muscular, powerful male rendered helpless and desperate—and to know that she had done that to him.

  “Just so you know, I would never expect a woman to swallow.” His fingers trailed up and down her spine. “I asked myself a long time ago whether I would want to swallow my own cum, and the answer was no. Don’t think you have to.”

  God, he was sweet. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Then she remembered. “My sister Claire and her husband Cedar have offered to stay overnight Tuesday night. I thought maybe we could spend the night at your place. We won’t have to worry about waking the kids up.”

  Or having them toddle into the bedroom and catch them in the act.

  “My place? I have an even better idea. What if I get us a room at the Scarlet Mountain Resort lodge—one of those luxury suites with a hot tub.”

  “Wouldn’t that be expensive?” The luxury suites had cost about five hundred bucks a night the last time she and Dan had talked about staying there. That had been years ago.

  “It wouldn’t cost either of us a dime.” He told her how the general manager had given him a gift certificate for a free night in thanks for the way he’d handled the explosives accident. “All I need to do is book the room.”

  A luxury suite at the Scarlet Mountain Resort lodge.

  “You said the room comes with a hot tub?”

  “A private hot tub.”

  She wriggled against him, feeling very hot and bothered. “I can’t wait.”

  They raided the kitchen after that, nibbling on chunks of cheese, walnuts, and olives, Jesse in his boxers and Ellie in her bathrobe. They talked about everything and nothing—how they were due for more snow, how quickly inventory had gone at the hospital, how embarrassed Jesse had felt by the attention at work.

 
Previous Page Next Page
Should you have any enquiry, please contact us via [email protected]