Devoted to the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 3) (5 page)

BOOK: Devoted to the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 3)
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Nicole smoothed her hair and let out a nervous giggle. She politely brushed away an older woman who was checking to see if she was all right. “I’m fine, really,” she laughed. “And they say air travel isn’t dangerous,” she said louder, smiling at the concourse. She cast an eye over her shoulder as she walked away, and if hadn’t been for Bryan, I would’ve tried to claw it out.

Bryan let the distance grow before guiding me back to our seats. The action now done, most of the camera phones were tucked away. A few people snapped a couple last photos of Bryan comforting me, and it took everything in me to stay calm. It didn’t take long before everyone’s attention was diverted to the plane boarding.

Still shaking with rage, I smiled wryly at Bryan, who wisely waited for me to calm down. “I still have a lot to learn about all this fame stuff, huh?”

“A little, yeah,” he replied.

I rolled my eyes and let out a little laugh, knocking the fluffy neck pillow askew. “Couldn’t you have at least taken this off before rushing over? It’s not like I need any more help embarrassing us.”

 

 

It’s one thing to read a flight itinerary and see that a trip will take over twenty-four hours. It’s another thing entirely to endure the journey. When we took our seats, two in an otherwise empty row of five, I was elated. I’ve always loved flying, and knowing I was getting to leave the country for the first time, my shiny new passport tucked safely away in my bag, was almost more than I could handle.

Bryan told me I should sleep as much as possible on the plane but I simply couldn’t. Between the fight with Nicole and my buzzing excitement, I was cranked up. I watched a couple of movies, tried to read my book, and resisted the urge to check the flight time. I was awake long after the cabin crew dimmed the lights and most of the other passengers had fallen asleep.

I quickly ran out of things to keep me occupied. I tried to rest but the moment I closed my eyes, I felt like a fidgeting mess. I paced the aisles, went to the bathroom just for the sake of getting up, but started to feel like a caged animal. The seat felt too small. The walls of the plane constricting. The engine noise too loud, too constant.

“Ugh!” I groaned, finally throwing the blanket off myself. I gave into the temptation to check the flight time, and was shocked to see we still had another twelve hours before we reached Wellington, New Zealand. And that wasn’t even our final destination. “Are you freakin’ kidding me?”

“What’s up?” Bryan asked without removing his eye mask. He had raised the armrests between us, and lay flat across the seats. His ruffled hair brushed against my arm.

“I just checked, and I have enough time to watch the entire
Godfather
trilogy before we land.”

He chuckled, pulling the blanket back up around his shoulders. “I told you, go to sleep. We’ll be there before you know it.”

“Easy for you to say,” I grumbled.

Flights like that feel like endurance races. What can I say? I’m more of a sprinter, but somehow I managed to get through it. We landed in Wellington long enough to grab a bottle of water and hop on another smaller plane. This time we landed for good in Queenstown on the South Island. By the time we arrived, I felt like I’d transcended jet lag. Because of the time of day we took off, we’d chased the sunset across the globe, casting the plane in over 18 hours of darkness. I had no idea what time it was, let alone day of the week. Did I want breakfast or dinner, and why the hell did it feel like I was still moving?

“You okay?” Bryan laughed, wrapping his arm around my waist as we walked to the baggage claim of the small airport.

“I look that bad, huh?” I rubbed my eyes and pulled my hair back into a high ponytail. “It’s all good. I just need a cup of coffee or something. Is it Tuesday or Wednesday here?”

Bryan laughed and patted my ass. “It’s Thursday. I think you’re gonna need more than a cup, babe.”

I rolled my shoulders to work out the kinks as he collected our bags. The airport was tiny, and only a handful of us waited around the luggage carousel. As my eyes grazed across the other people, they stuck to one person in particular. I couldn’t help it.

Tall, dirty blond hair, tan. He wore jeans that hugged his narrow hips and a dark long sleeved shirt. I almost jumped when our eyes met and I realized, in my dazed state, I’d probably been staring at him. I averted my gaze quickly, but saw him coming out of the corner of my eye.

Shit, way to go Liz
, I chastised myself. I tried to pretend I didn’t notice him approach, waiting until he spoke to turn back.

“Liz Croyden?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes?” I tried to say casually. Up close, he was even better looking. Ice blue eyes, a broad white smile… this guy was male model material.

He smiled and stuck out his hand. “Good to finally meet you. I’m Josh Good.”


You’re
Josh Good?” I cringed at how incredulous I sounded. I’d spoken to him a few times on the phone, exchanged dozens of emails on the lead-up to our trip. For whatever reason, I’d gotten it in my head that the publicist they’d hired for me was going to be some dumpy, older guy. Someone this good looking should come with a warning label.

“Well, I’m actually fantastic, but we can start with good,” he winked, using an obviously tired joke. “I’ve got a car out front. They didn’t tell you I was going to meet you here?” I realized I was still holding his hand, far too long, and dropped it suddenly.

“Um, no. They just said a car would be waiting. I figured we’d have to drive ourselves.” I felt a flush spreading across my chest and neck as I tried desperately not to acknowledge how amazingly hot he was. Distractingly hot. Shit.

“Okay, I know I told you to pack for every possible scenario, but holy hell,” Bryan grunted as he tossed two bags at my feet. He smiled at Josh and looked at me questioningly, waiting for the introduction.

With a few quick blinks, I tried to focus, slipping my arm around his waist.
I’m with him. My Bryan. Girlfriend. I’m girlfriend. No, shit! Fiancée! Why can’t I get that into my stupid head?

“Um, Bryan this is Josh, my… what are you exactly? Publicist? PR rep?”

“General gofer?” he offered with a laugh. “Good to meet ‘ya, bro. Really though, I’m kind of your driver slash publicist slash Kiwi ambassador. Which brings me to my first question. Where do you want to head to first? We can pop over to Kawarau Peak, or maybe you’d like to drop your stuff off at the house?”

As much as I wanted to rush straight to the mountain, I considered Bryan. “Let’s get things settled at the house first, and then we’ll see how we feel.” I gave Bryan a little squeeze, making sure he was all right with that.

“Sweet as. The car’s just over here,” Josh said, grabbing one of the suitcases.

I waited a few moments and turned to Bryan. “Did he just say ‘sweet ass’?”

Bryan stifled a laugh by biting his bottom lip. “I sent you a link to Kiwi slang the other day. You didn’t read any of it, did you?”

Nope
. “Sure I did. I just didn’t hear what he said,” I replied, trying to sound blasé.

He grinned and grabbed the last of the luggage. “When are you gonna learn? I know you, Liz. Sometimes better than you know yourself.”

“Blah, blah, blah better than you blah, blah, blah,” I mocked, following him into the cold.

____________

 

The airport was only a short distance away from Queenstown, the closest town to the race. I tried to check out the area as we zipped down the main street, but it seemed busy and touristy, like a more popular Tellure Hollow. Most of the buildings hugged the coast of a deep azure lake. On the opposite coast, as if standing guard over the town, were The Remarkables, a jagged, snow tipped mountain range.

“This town was basically built during the gold rush but nowadays, it’s all about the extreme sports. We’ve got river rafting, speed boats, and stunt planes. First commercial bungee jumping was on the Kawarau Bridge just back there. We’ve even got the second highest bungee jump in the world if you’re up for it,” he said, looking at me through the rear view mirror.

“Hell no. No way I’m paying good money to fling myself off a bridge,” I said firmly.

“It’s a gondola, actually,” he said. I had to admit, I
did
like listening to that Kiwi accent. “Suit yourself. I’d be glad to take you Bryan, if you’re interested. I got a mate who works there. I could get you a good deal.”

“Actually, that sounds like a lot of—ow! Liz, come on,” he whined as I flicked his head from the backseat. He twisted and frowned at me. “It’s perfectly safe. Safer than what you do for a living.”

“But
I
have control over what I’m doing. That’s just all up to chance.”

Bryan grew more serious. “You have less control on that mountain than you think you do, remember that. The second you stop respecting how dangerous this sport is…” His voice trailed off and I felt like a complete ass.

“I know, hon. You’re absolutely right.”

Josh turned right and started working his way up the snaking switchback of a road. Huge, modern houses dotted the sides, growing larger the further up the mountain we traveled. After a couple loops back and forth, he pulled into a long driveway.

The exterior of the house was cubist and super modern. Wood and glass mingled together in beautiful architecture. I experienced an odd sense of déjà vu as my feet crunched along the gravel driveway. When I’d first moved to Tellure Hollow to stay with my friend Kayla, I’d been similarly taken aback by the beauty of our holiday home.
And look how that ended up
, I thought bitterly.

Once inside, Josh explained the living situation. “There’s a whole crew of people here to attend to your every need. Cooks, cleaners, you name it. They all work out of sight, always when you aren’t around so you aren’t disturbed.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said absently. It was too much, but I was busy admiring the interior of the place to complain. It was so airy and light. Clean lines, open space.

“Your sponsor is paying for it all. They practically insisted on the setup. Pretty sweet deal,” Josh grinned, his tanned cheeks dimpling.

I looked at Bryan wide-eyed, trying to keep my cool. Inside, I wanted to jump around and squeal like a little kid at Disney World, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself.

“Well, if it’s what the sponsor wants. Better than anything I ever got,” Bryan chided with a smirk.

We wandered down a few steps from the kitchen into the sunken living room, and were greeted by a huge bank of windows. The entire wall of the living room faced the lake and mountain range, like a massive natural mural all our own. The walls could swing fully open, too, allowing access to the huge deck beyond when the weather was warm.

“Holy hell,” I muttered. I couldn’t help it. The place was spectacular.

“Yeah, this’ll do,” Bryan agreed, nudging my shoulder.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Josh fidgeted a little, rubbing the back of his neck like he didn’t want to give me bad news. “What ah… not that we have to jump straight into work, mind, but uh…” I gave him a questioning look and he gathered his thoughts. “What do you want me to say about everything that happened yesterday? It’s kind of all over the place. I’m getting loads of calls for quotes, but I’ve stayed quiet for…”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” I asked, glancing from him to Bryan. “What happened yesterday?”

Bryan groaned and rolled his eyes. “The fight with Nicole. You gotta be kidding me, already?”

Josh nodded sympathetically. “Totally. Really took off, went a little viral. The Internet loves celebrities and two girls fighting, so it was kind of inevitable,” he said with a wince.

I rubbed my face and wished for the ability to go back and erase history. It certainly wasn’t the first time I wanted a magic genie to grant me that ability. “So, there are videos out there?”

“Not just videos. That girl, Drexel? She spent the whole flight on Twitter and Facebook trash talking, really got ahead of it.”

“She was on the same flight! I didn’t know you could do that. Did you know we could’ve had Internet on the plane?” I yelled at Bryan. “Christ, she did it again. That little… you know, if she spent as much time skiing as she does tweeting, I actually might be a little worried.”

Bryan nodded in a way that both annoyed me and soothed my anger. “Up to now, we’ve largely let Nicole dig her own holes. We usually don’t engage in her little stunts,” he explained.

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