Rebound (Boomerang #2)(54)

“No one,” Ali says. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

I’m suddenly grinning from ear to ear. “Damn right, Quick,” I say, wanting to hang onto this feeling, that we’re invincible. Together, that’s exactly what we are.

When everyone’s set, Gooter walks out to the starting line lifting what appears to be a pink dog toy in the air. “Are. You. Ready?” he yells.

“Wow! This race feels so official,” Mia says gamely.

Pippa and Paolo do a cheer, their legs kicking left and right.

“Hell yes!” Cookie yells, revving her engine.

“Hold on tight,” I say to Ali.

“I am,” she says, firming her arms around my chest. “Don’t hold back.”

Jesus. What I wouldn’t do to have her this close in private. Saying these things in private. With less clothes. Maybe sitting in front of me, where I could—

“On your marks! Get set!” Gooter lowers the dog toy. “Go!”

We shoot away from the starting line and I put us right into the lead, going full throttle down a steep drop. Ali and I come up off the seat as we catch air, and when we land, the impact is jarring. I feel her arms clamp around me, and the snowmobile finally gets traction again.

“You all right?” I yell.

“Yes! Keep going!”

I can’t open up the throttle any more, so I concentrate on finding the best track.

“Flag!” Ali points. “Right there!”

I see it, and make a sharp turn. When I stop, I bury the bottom half of the flag in the spray the snowmobile kicks out.

“Shit. Sorry,” I say, but Ali’s already hopped off, taken four steps to the flag, and pulled it out of the ground.

“It’s okay. Go!” she says, hopping back on.

I look behind us. Pippa and Paolo, and Cookie and Philippe are just coming down the steep decline Ali and I flew over.

“Go, go, go!” Ali yells, and my chest fills with the sound of her voice this way. So competitive and sure.

We tear back onto the track and find another flag. I get us close, Ali snags it. We blaze on. We’re strategic. Efficient. Ruthless. And we don’t make any false moves. By the time we come up to the fourth flag, I don’t even see anyone behind us, but we’re still gunning for the finish line, the two of us racing some imaginary competitor.

Ali jumps back on the snowmobile, the fourth flag tucked in her arm, but I don’t go anywhere. Not yet.

“Adam, go! What are you doing?”

I turn so I can see her face. We’re alone, but I can hear the hoots and hollers of the others approaching. “I’m kissing you.”

The urge is so strong I won’t be able to do anything—move, think, breathe—until I answer it.

I bring my mouth to her soft lips. A brush was all I thought I wanted. We’re both out of breath and we’re in the middle of a race. But a passing taste isn’t enough. It never is with her.

My tongue sweeps in and strokes hers, and she’s warm and sweet, and so willing, so responsive, I almost forget what we’re doing until our helmets clack together.

I kiss her nose, which is a little red from the cold, as I back away. “What do you say, Quick?”

She smiles at me. “I say let’s finish this.”

And we do.

We’re sipping hot chocolate with Gooter before the next team even crosses the finish line.





Chapter 31



Alison


I know when I see the blindfolds that I’m in trouble. Well, I think, mentally replaying Adam’s kiss during yesterday’s snowmobile race, more trouble.

We’ve gathered on the expanse of lawn right beyond our lodge’s back deck, which has been littered with colorful mini pylons in what seems like a randomly arranged pattern but that no doubt reflects the perfect symmetry of a hummingbird’s flight or the pattern the brain makes when it falls in love.

Jasmine seems to have a transparent bag filled with blindfolds, along with several lengths of bright yellow rope coiled in her hands.

“Oh, look everyone,” says Paolo. “It’s Fifty Shades of Grey, mountain edition.”

“At least buy me some flowers first,” mutters Mia.

Philippe snorts.

The early morning wind carries a cutting chill, the temperature easily twenty degrees colder than yesterday. I shiver and zip the collar of my coat up as high as it will go. Adam stands next to me, and I feel the tension of him wanting to put his arm around me. The same tension I feel, wanting to snuggle close but knowing it’s the wrong thing to do. Maybe just here and now. Or maybe anywhere, anytime. I still don’t know.

“Supposed to be a big cold front coming in,” Rhett tells me. Wearing only a heavy sweatshirt, he jogs in place and blows on his hands as we await further instructions. “Maybe an ice storm.” To Adam, he adds, “Gotta keep an eye on that.”

Adam nods. “I’m checking the alerts. We’ll probably know more in an hour or two.”

Jasmine gives a sharp ear-piercing whistle, and all eyes turn to her.

“I know it’s become a bit bracing out this morning, my lovelies, but we’ll get you warmed up in no time with a little game I call ‘Blind Pilot.’”

“Umm, blind pilots crash,” says Sadie.