Somebody Like You (2 page)

“Right. And so long as we stick together now, we’ll be okay. Right?”

“Right.” Stephen held up his right hand, which was damp and still streaked with blood, as Sam mirrored his action with his left hand, which was caked with dirt from his skid down the side of the hill. They did their right-hand-left-hand high five, followed by a quick low handclasp.

Stephen dabbed at the wound. “I’ll be okay. Let’s get going.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. The sooner we get started, the sooner we get back to camp.”

“I’ll take it slow.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can keep up with you.”

S
ix minutes.

Surely six minutes was enough time to propose, wasn’t it? Returning to where he and Elissa first met seemed so romantic—but Stephen hadn’t factored in Breckenridge’s high-speed ski lifts.

As the chair lift hit the back of his knees, Stephen settled into the unpadded metal seat. Elissa snuggled next to him, leaning up and brushing a kiss against his jaw. The soft caress of her lips invited him to wrap his arm around her, anchoring his ratcheted-up heart rate to the reality that he wanted to marry this woman. He blew out a huff of air, releasing his death grip on the protective guardrail.

The time was right.

“This was such a good idea, Stephen, riding the ski lift in the summer. You always make our dates fun. I love being with you—I can relax. No pressure.” Elissa’s husky voice pulled him from his mental mathematics. “It looks so different without any snow, but this reminds me of how we met.”

He brushed long strands of her brown hair away from her face. “Only that day we were wearing ski boots and parkas and helmets—and I didn’t get to see how absolutely stunning you are until dinner that night.”

“Flatterer.” Elissa pressed her full lips against his.

Stephen inhaled the scent of Elissa’s spicy perfume, savoring the warmth of her mouth and her unreserved affection. It was one of the things he loved most about the woman in his arms—one of the many reasons he wanted to marry her. With Elissa, he knew he was loved.

Elissa lifted her right hand, tilting her wrist so she could admire the tourmaline and silver bracelet he’d bought her just before suggesting the ski lift ride.

As they ascended the mountain, they left behind Breckenridge’s annual art festival. The parking lots and side roads were packed with cars and trucks, and the trendy mountain town teemed with people strolling through the various craft booths. The jewelry artisan had stood in one of the white tents along the main street, insisting it was as if he’d made the bracelet just for her. By presenting her with one piece of jewelry, Stephen hoped the diamond ring he’d slip on her finger during the next few minutes would all the more surprise Elissa. An expensive decoy, but well worth it. After six months, he knew the woman beside him—and jewelry was her love language.

Stephen swallowed, fighting against the constriction in his throat. This was good. He was ready to move forward. He couldn’t wait to see the surprise in Elissa’s eyes—the gleam of joy tinged with love as she said yes when he proposed. She always enjoyed it when he surprised her with flowers or a card—a proposal would top all of those.

Slipping his left hand into his jean jacket pocket, Stephen ensured the ring was safe. He’d lugged it around all day tucked in
a beribboned box in his well-worn backpack as they browsed the different craftsmen’s stalls, switching the ring to his pocket during a supposed bathroom break before he purchased their lift tickets.

After all, if Prince William of England could hike all over Africa carrying some world-renowned family heirloom in a rucksack, waiting for the right moment to propose to his precious Kate, why couldn’t Stephen sling a pack over his shoulder and plan a proposal in the Colorado mountains?

And thank you, Elissa, for the fact that I even know that bit of royal trivia.
Every woman wants a bit of fairy tale coming true in her life, which probably explained why Elissa followed three different blogs about the future queen of England.

Breckenridge didn’t qualify as remote terrain—even if his ’66 Mustang was parked in the farthest lot from the main street running through town.

Even as Elissa leaned closer, he pulled away, running his thumb along her bottom lip as she pretended to pout. “As much as I would enjoy kissing you the entire ride up and back down the mountain, I need to control myself for a few minutes.”

“Afraid we’ll fall out of the chair?”

“No . . . I just—” Why were the words evading him now? He’d practiced the proposal all week, wanting it to be perfect. A memory Elissa would treasure. “I want to talk about . . . I mean, you know I love you . . . and I want to ask you—”

Wait. He wanted to give Elissa the ring as he asked her to marry him. Stephen fumbled with his coat pocket. Maybe by the time he started talking again, he wouldn’t stumble over his words like a middle-schooler asking a girl to a dance for the first time. He sucked in a breath.
Relax.
He could do this. “Elissa, would you marry me?”

“What?” Elissa half-turned to watch him, her sculpted brows furrowed over her smoky brown eyes as he pulled the ring from
its hiding place. “You’re not . . . you’re not proposing, are you, Stephen?”

“Yes . . . I am. I did.” He’d asked her to marry him. Not flawless, like the half-carat diamond, but he’d proposed.

Wait—wasn’t he supposed to ask the question? And wasn’t Elissa supposed to say yes? He raised his hand and offered the ring to Elissa. Realized he held the square-cut diamond so that it was hidden from view. Repositioned it so the gem glinted in the late-summer sunlight.

Elissa leaned away from him, one hand gripping the base of the seat. “Why are you asking me to marry you?”

What happened to a simple
yes
? Why wasn’t she throwing herself into his arms, causing the lift to sway back and forth, exclaiming over the ring, and kissing him again? Okay, so he’d left his polished proposal at the base of the mountain, but still . . .

With the ring suspended between them, Stephen tried again, ignoring how his heart pounded in his chest like thunder during an afternoon storm. “Elissa, you are amazing. Beautiful. I love being with you. I love you. Will you marry me?”

“What ever gave you the idea that I was ready for you to propose? We’ve been dating for barely six months!”

He hadn’t prepared for a no. Hadn’t prepared for her to recoil, to refuse to even look at the ring, much less reject it.

“Stephen.” Her warm hand covered his cold fingers. “You’re wonderful. I’ve had a blast the last six months. But—” Her eyes narrowed and she seemed to search for the right words. “—we never even talked about getting married. Where is this coming from?”

He still held the ring out to Elissa, gripping it so it wouldn’t slip from his fingers and plummet onto the mountainside below. “Six months is long enough for me to know—”

“To know what? For us to know we want to spend the rest of
our lives together?” Elissa closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips against her temple. “If you knew me at all, you’d know this is not how to propose. Or when.”

“I do know you. I know how much you love your work at the boutique. I know how you balance your books to the penny—and never file a paper but can find whatever you need to from all those piles in your office. I know that if anyone took you on in trivia about Kate and William they’d be obliterated.”

“That’s all information—not what you build a lifetime commitment on.” Her eyes skimmed over the ring he’d spent hours selecting. “Please, put the ring away. My answer is no.”

“No, you don’t want to marry me now—or no, you don’t want to marry me ever?”

“Stephen, have you listened to anything I’ve said the last six months? We’ve had fun. I like hanging with you. What part of that implies that I’m ready to marry you? I’m still getting my boutique established—”

“Are you worried about finances? We’ll be fine. I told you, as soon as the company lands that contract to refurbish the old office building in Denver, I’ll get a promotion.”

“This isn’t about money. This is about our relationship. We’ve been having
fun
. Skiing. Going to dinner. Hiking . . . but no one said
marriage
.” She closed her eyes again, her throat working as if she was swallowing back words. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. Controlled. “Not until today anyway. And that’s a topic that should be discussed by a man and a woman before anyone proposes.”

“I wanted to surprise you. Propose. Go to dinner. Start making plans.”

“Yes, I like surprises—when you brought me flowers unexpectedly. But when it comes to forever and ever, amen—you know I’m a planner. Or at least I thought you did.”

Silence settled between them as the chair lift rounded the station and began the descent. Stephen tucked the ring into the small upper pocket of his jacket, buttoning it closed. What could he say?
I’m sorry I proposed? Forget I said anything?
Heat flared up his neck and across his face. If only he could jump out of the chair. Surely a broken leg or two wasn’t any more painful than being rejected by Elissa. How would they survive the two-and-a-half-hour drive back to Fort Collins? He’d envisioned dinner overflowing with laughter and all the what-ifs and maybes that go with planning a wedding. Holding Elissa’s hand on the drive back, humming along as she sang a duet with Adele on the radio. Insisting on a brief engagement because he was tired of going to his studio apartment after dropping Elissa off at her condo. But now . . .

Elissa sat as far away from him as she could, huddled in the corner of the chair lift. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall off before they reached the base of the mountain. When she spoke again, her words were hesitant. “Stephen, I don’t know if I have the right to say this now—”

“I’m listening.” Stephen braced himself for whatever would come next. He didn’t expect an emotional about-face.

“You say you love me—but I have to wonder what’s driving you to propose.”

He twisted in the chair lift, reaching for her hand. “I do love you—”

“Let me finish. Please.” Elissa shook her head, her hand worrying the collar of her sweater. “I don’t know how to explain it, but you always seem like you’re looking for something . . . or waiting for someone. I can’t explain it. But I wonder if you want me to fill in for someone else. An old girlfriend, maybe.”

“There’s no old girlfriend, Elissa.” His shoulders sagged. This conversation was useless.

Once they reached the bottom of the mountain again, Elissa scooted forward, leaping from the chair as it slowed before continuing its cycle back up the mountain. He straightened his shoulders, easing a breath out between clenched teeth. “I asked and you . . . answered. I think it’s best if we just go home.”

It was going to be a long, cold drive back to Fort Collins.

“Fine.”

His iPhone, which he’d muted, vibrated in his back pocket. After a quick glance at the display, he took a step away from Elissa. “Excuse me for a minute—this is my boss. It’s probably about the new contract.” At least something was going right today.

“Go ahead.” She tucked her hands in the pockets of her white sweater jacket and walked away.

Would she keep going until she got all the way to his Mustang? Stephen turned away, refusing to watch. “Hello, Mr. Talbott. What can I do for you, sir?”

Six thirty in the morning—what an ungodly time to meet his boss, especially since he’d stared at his ceiling most of the night, replaying Elissa’s rejection and their silent ride back to Fort Collins.

Not even bothering to turn on his office lights, Stephen tossed his leather attaché case onto the chair behind his desk. He could only hope Mr. Talbott had coffee brewing in the conference room. One cup gulped down while he shaved wasn’t going to cut it today.

“Good morning, sir.” Stephen’s voice seemed to echo in the large glass-enclosed room. Where was everyone else? The elongated rectangular table could seat an even dozen, but only he and his boss occupied the room.

“Sit down, Stephen, sit down.” The man motioned Stephen to the high-backed leather chair to his right, where an insulated cup of Starbucks waited. “I needed you for a pre-meeting.”