Devoted to the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 3) (9 page)

His expression softened, hazel eyes sparkling as he studied my face. “Well, we’re committed now, kitten. You asked for a big wedding and that’s what we’re getting. I’m trying to help with all this, but you should have some input. It’s your wedding, too. Plus, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“That’s it!” I gasped. “You can take care of all of it. It’ll be like a surprise wedding!”

Bryan’s eyebrow shot up. “A surprise wedding,” he replied dubiously. “Oh yeah, that’s not gonna blow up in my face or anything. You get pissed off when I buy generic cereal and the wrong kind of toilet paper, but you’re happy to let me design our wedding? That’s a mine field I’m not going anywhere near.”

I glanced at the binder again and almost visibly cringed. Even from across the bed, I could feel the weight of it bearing down on my shoulders. The stress of the wedding was the last thing I needed on top of everything else. I sat up, a wicked smile curling my lips. “Then, why don’t we elope? We can stop by Vegas on the way home, get hitched, and send photos to everyone on the guest list.”

“Uh huh, right,” he said, pretending to consider the suggestion. “Great idea except we’ve already put money down on the venue, reserved the caterer, and photographers… not to mention telling our families.”

“Why not hire a wedding planner? Isn’t that exactly what they’re meant for?” I countered with a glimmer of hope.

“Liz, not to be harsh, but we barely have enough money for all the stuff I just listed. We definitely don’t have the funds to pay a professional to sort it all out for us.”

I pulled my knees up to my chest and sighed. “Plus, if we do it that way, we won’t get any presents.”

Bryan gave me a playful slap on the thigh. “Real nice. You’re such a romantic.” His hand rested on my leg, rubbing the thin material of my pajama bottoms idly. After a moment’s thought, he paused. “Do you really want me to take care of everything?”

“Would you hate me if I said yes?” I batted my eyelashes at him. We both knew I was working him, and we both knew I’d be successful.

“I won’t hate you,” he said, leaning down to kiss my neck. “But you have to promise not to hate me if you end up walking down the aisle in a poofy teal wedding dress. I can see you holding this whole thing over my head for the rest of our lives.”

“I swear it,” I declared, flashing my best Girl Scout salute. Inside, I did experience a little wave of anxiety at the idea of letting him take over. Just because I didn’t want to plan didn’t mean I wanted the whole thing to be hideous, and Bryan did have a weird affinity for wood paneling. “You know…” I said slowly as the idea formed in my head. “There is one thing we haven’t considered.”

“What’s that?” he asked, bracing himself for my next crazy suggestion.

“Selling out. Like, completely. I’m sure some magazine out there would kill to buy the exclusive rights to our wedding. We could use the money to pay for someone to make it perfect, right? And probably get a honeymoon out of the deal!”

Bryan’s mouth fell open. “You want to sell the most important day of our lives as a couple to the highest bidder?”

“When you put it that way… Ugh, fine. It was just an idea,” I said with a dramatic roll of the eyes. “I give you my blessing to take care of the whole thing. Just tell me when and where.” I turned back to the work that was waiting for me and groaned. “I have another twenty, thirty questions to answer still, and I can’t face it right now. I think I’m gonna go for a run on the treadmill downstairs. It doesn’t look like I’m gonna be able to get to the mountain today after all.”

Bryan frowned at all the papers scattered around the bed. “Do you want me to do the questions?”

I shook my head and laughed. “Why don’t you just ski for me too, and we can save all the hassle?” Almost imperceptibly, Bryan’s mouth tightened. I did it again. I spoke without thinking, and wound up hurting the man I loved most in the world. “I’m sorry,” I said softly. His expression didn’t even have to change for me to know I’d just poked a sore spot.

“It’s fine. Go run. I’ll take care of the wedding stuff,” he said, pulling the wedding binder off the bed as he left.

I wanted to call out, to apologize profusely, but I was sure I’d only make things worse. I watched him walk from the room, internally beating myself up.
You are on the brink of getting everything you’ve been working towards for two years. Yet, some sick part of you keeps trying to sabotage it!

I wanted the run to clear my head, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Bryan. Although I never said it outright, one of the biggest reasons I feared failure was because I felt like I’d be letting him down. He dipped into so much of his savings to pay for Janet, to get me the help I needed to get up to speed so quickly. It’d started as a silly conversation, something I blurted out while we were laying in post-orgasmic bliss.

“I should become a competitive skier,” I’d said with a laugh. But he hadn’t laughed. He sat up on his elbow and looked down at me with such seriousness, I was afraid I’d said something insulting.

“You should,” he’d insisted. “That’s a really good idea.”

“No, come on. I was just kidding.” But no matter how hard I tried to brush him off, he kept pushing it. For weeks and weeks, he brought it up in sly little ways. He even went so far as to fly Janet out on the down low to watch me ski one afternoon.

It was a dream I was afraid to reach for, an ambition I thought was as realistic as me becoming an astronaut or President. But when Janet told him I had potential, my dream became
our
dream.

And that was it. I was officially on my way to becoming a full time competitive skier.

Right after we met, I bought my childhood home for Dad, because it was the only good thing that came from my relationship with Rick and Kayla. Unfortunately, it tapped my bank account and with no money to my name, Bryan stepped up and paid for everything. A small fortune just to get me to this point, to even earn the times needed to place in a competition. “It’s our money, anyway,” he’d say, but I still felt that stab of guilt.

So I worked as hard as I could, making sure that his faith in me wasn’t misplaced. Of course, I cared about winning and seeing my own dream come true. On the most difficult days, it was winning for Bryan’s sake that pushed me through the extra set, that added an additional five pounds to my lifts.

And when I lose, we won’t have enough money for the wedding, let alone a honeymoon or a house.

I cried out in frustration and slammed the stop button on the treadmill. Standing on either side as the track slowed, I held the railings and panted to catch my breath.

I shouldn’t be down here. I should be up there with him, enjoying the little time we get.

____________

We caught a local bus down to the town and wandered around like a couple of tourists. It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen. Queenstown hugs the shores of a lake and reflected in the still waters, a snowcapped mountain range. The faintest dusting of snow floated through the air, more sparkles than flakes, making the whole world look like we were caught in a delicate snow globe.

All wrapped up in winter jackets, hats, and scarves, we held mittened hands and took in the sights. We stopped at a fancy chocolatier and tasted the most amazing lavender dark chocolate, grabbed a coffee from a corner cafe, and bought a few souvenirs for friends back home. It felt downright normal and for a few hours, we forgot our worries and were just Liz and Bryan.

Slung around my neck was the camera Bryan had given me two years before, the same day we’d gotten engaged. With all my training and general depression, I hadn’t taken many photos in recent months. The natural, rugged beauty of New Zealand lit a creative flame inside. I was so glad I’d decided to pack it.

Bryan was incredibly patient as I paused to frame a great shot of the lake and mountains, not once complaining about the cold. When he wasn’t looking, I managed to nab a few of him, mostly hanging out on the side, unaware I was even photographing him.

As we circled around to the main street, Bryan suddenly tugged my hand. “Come on, let’s go take a look.”

At first, I thought he was pulling us towards an awesome, quirky bar, but I quickly realized that wasn’t what he was focused on at all.

“Oh no,” I grumbled as we jogged across the street.

Bryan ran off like a kid in a toy store while I stood hesitantly in the doorway. The space was huge, a dozen televisions all showing clips of screaming people bungee jumping. Already, my heart was in my throat at the thought of it. As Bryan chatted with an equally enthusiastic guy at the desk, I read the signs and posters like I was in a museum. I kept my hands stuffed in my pockets and read from a distance. Even my body language didn’t want to commit to the idea of tossing myself off a cliff.

I read that A.J. Hackett was the first person to commercialize bungee jumping, putting New Zealand on the map as one of the premier extreme sports destinations in the world. I had to walk around a group waiting to be bussed out to a jump site. Their nervous, scared, excited faces somehow spiked my own anxiety.

“Liz! Come check this out,” Bryan called across the room.
I really, really don’t want to…
I thought as I reluctantly joined him.

Bryan had a brochure open on the desk in front as I came up beside him. “This stuff scares the shit out of me,” I whispered to him.

“Aw, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Doin’ this for decades and haven’t killed anyone yet,” the young employee joked. His smile was meant to be friendly, but it just looked menacing to me.

“Comforting,” I muttered.

Bryan smiled at me and gestured to the brochure. “They have three different jumps. There’s even one just up that hill over there,” he said pointing over his shoulder. “That one you run and jump off, sort of like a swing.”

I shivered at the thought of it. “Nope. No, no, never.”

“And then there’s the Nevis, which is the highest in the world,” Bryan gushed.

“Second highest,” the young guy cut in with his thick Kiwi accent. “But when you’re up there, a few extra meters won’t matter, mate, trust me.”

I don’t think my eyebrows could’ve gone up any higher. “You’re joking, right? You aren’t seriously considering…”

“No, not that one. This one,” he said pointing to a bridge spanning a narrow river gorge. The sales photo showed a young girl swan diving from the platform, her face contorted with a scream. “This one is much smaller and there’s water at the bottom, so it’s safer.”

“So I can drown after I’ve broken my neck?”

Bryan squinted at me questioningly. “You fling yourself down a mountain at sixty, seventy miles per hour almost every day, and you’re telling me
this
scares you?”

I leaned my hip against the counter and crossed my arms. “You know how I feel about this. Like I said before, I’m in control. Letting someone tie a piece of elastic to my ankles and telling me to jump? No, no way.”

“No, you’re on the edge of control. In control is on the bunny slope. Every time you go down that mountain with speed as your goal, you’re pushing that line.”

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat as I met his eye. We never really talked about it, but I knew he was terrified to let me ski at the speeds I did. Proud, but scared. “I know, I know. Can we… I just don’t want to jump off a bridge, okay? I’m serious. And I’d rather you not, too.”

Bryan rubbed my back as he nodded to the salesman. “Thanks man, maybe later.” He folded the brochure and shoved it in his pocket before turning to me. “You got it, no bungee jumping. Let’s go get something to eat instead.”

Relief grew with every foot we put between us and the store, but Bryan couldn’t leave well enough alone. As we walked down the street, he threw an arm around my shoulder and added, “You can jump two people at the same time, you know.”

“Oh, good! We can die together.”

“Such a drama queen,” he laughed, planting a kiss on the top of my head.