The Rule Maker (Rule Breakers) Read online

Jason shot him a look, and Ryder’s shoulders sagged a fraction.

  “Fine. I like the open concept one as well,” he said.

  What was that? Just me doing an internal twerkathon followed by running around the room with my hands above my head shouting yes at the top of my lungs. My thoughts were so professional.

  Outwardly, I gave a small smile. “If you’re both happy with that, I can start as soon as Monday with the demo crew. We’ll get this up and running before summer hits. And with the feature on HGTV, I’m sure you’ll have this place booked in no time.”

  “I like your ambition, Ms. Reynolds. I’m excited to see the finished product.” His eyes seemed brighter than when they’d first pulled up to the resort. Ryder had been right to take him up here.

  It took everything in me not to give an audible sigh of relief. Finally. Victory.

  Ryder stood behind Jason and caught my eye, mouthing a silent thank-you.

  I gave him a quick smile and focused back on my plan of attack. There was no wasting daylight when it came to this project. It was go-time. “I’m going to make a few calls. I’ll be around if you need anything,” I said.

  I made my way into one of the guest rooms, sat down in the chartreuse tufted chair, and propped my feet on the oak desk. The sun glinted off the snow-coated ground, casting a glare into the room. I’d spent more time around snow in the past few weeks than I had my entire life in Portland. The novelty had officially worn off, and I’d need at least a month on a beach to remove the chill from my bones.

  Just as I pulled my phone out to call one of the vendors for the window tapestries and my demo guys, Ryder and Jason came out of the lodge across the way, Ryder pulling his brother in a kind of sled with skis on either side for stability. Jason was yelling something at Ryder, but from this distance, I couldn’t make out the words. Ryder continued to pull the sled up a decent-sized hill with a rope slung over his shoulder. He’d taken his jacket off, and the muscles in his biceps bunched together.

  Weather forecast: partly sunny skies with a good chance of man-candy precipitation.

  At the top of the hill, he turned Jason’s sled to face the slope. To my small knowledge of everything involving snow sports, I believed this to be a bunny hill, but I wasn’t up to date with ski lingo.

  Ryder stepped onto the back, took a firm grip on the handles, and pushed off. Both of their faces lit up, and their elated whoops tore across the lodge area as they swooped down the hill. Within seconds, they were at the bottom. Ryder bent to say something to Jason, and his brother’s face puckered. He pulled Ryder into a hug, and the sweet gesture formed a lump in my throat.

  I moved away from the window, an outsider to this very private moment.

  Every now and again, after I finished making a call, I’d take another peek. They went down the hill and Ryder would pull them back up to the top. The pattern continued until I realized I had reached every vendor I’d needed to contact.

  Jason’s smile grew wider with every run down the mountain. I couldn’t hear anything through the thick windows, but it was clear he was laughing as he threw his head back, his arms in the air.

  Ryder smiled at his brother and dutifully stayed close by his side through the whole process. Boom. Sucker punch to the feels. The flood of feelings washed over me so quickly, I didn’t even have time to brace for the impact. I knew deep down Ryder was a decent guy. But this amount of kindness was far beyond anything I’d expected from him. It was hard to believe this was the same guy that had left in the middle of the night a few months ago.

  Chapter Ten

  Ryder

  Three days later, Jason ventured back into his office. I drove him and then made my way to the resort to oversee the gut job.

  Did I need to be there? No. But a certain designer would be, and that was enough of a reason to make the two-hour trip.

  When I parked my truck in the lot, I saw a large dumpster in the middle of the courtyard lawn, three men carrying an old, dusty sofa out to it. Zoey circled the men, directing them, waving her hands wildly. Her hair was pulled back today, and she was dressed casually in jeans and a hoodie. She’d be beautiful dressed in a garbage bag, I decided. My chest tightened as I took in the sight of her, so confident and at ease in her domain.

  I made it halfway up the path before she zoned in on my presence.

  She put her hands on her hips, but a smile graced her lips. “What are you doing here?”

  “Wanted to make sure everything’s running smoothly for you.”

  “We’ve hit a couple of snags with disassembling some of the furniture, but otherwise we’re good.” She swiped a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.

  I jutted my chin toward the lodge. “Need any help?”

  “Careful what you wish for.” A rueful smile crossed her red lips, and I shifted restlessly.

  Right now, I wished for a lot of things, none of them appropriate to mention to her. I’d respect her decision to keep things professional, even if it killed me.

  After a beat of hesitation, she said, “You can help me sort through the clutter in the back closet.”

  We made our way through the resort to the back of the building where there were bookshelves overflowing with garbage, brass figurines, and books. Zoey pulled a large metal trash can into the room and began plucking unusable items off the shelves and tossing them into the receptacle.

  After a moment, she paused, put her hands on her hips, and took a deep, bracing breath while she stared at the room. “I was surprised Jason picked this place. It’s just so different from the building he had me renovate last year.”

  I ground my teeth, deciding whether or not to tell her the real reason we were all working on this crap hole of a resort. I’d already let on that he’d bought it for personal reasons. It only seemed fitting she know the whole story. “This was one of my mom’s favorite places.” It came out before I could put too much thought into it. Zoey was easy to talk to, much easier than most people.

  A golf ball bounced to the ground as Zoey continued to rummage through the shelves. “Was?”

  I grabbed a plaque for the 1997 Bingo Championship and palmed it. “She passed away when I was ten.”

  She frowned. “I lost mine when I was thirteen.”

  The pain of losing my parents was there, but it had dulled over time. I could see it in her eyes as well.

  “I think she would have liked this place, too. It has a lot of character,” she said.

  I looked around at the ornately carved wood, the windows with wavy glass, the dust particles floating in the stream of sunlight. This place, albeit old as hell, was comfortable. In its prime, Divinity was a great vacation spot. It would still have been, current day, if someone had maintained it.

  A memory of my mom pushing my brother and me down the bunny hill in our sled, her lips pulled into a smile, flashed through me. Her love of the snow—it was what got me into snowboarding in the first place.

  I imagined Divinity as it could be, with Zoey’s new designs and a ski school for the winter. More families could enjoy time together, sharing a love for the slopes. Maybe, just maybe, Jason had the right idea in buying the lodge.

  We continued throwing stuff into the trash can in silence for a few minutes. By the time noon rolled around, most of the rooms had been cleared, aside from a few items Zoey thought might add to the rustic charm of the place, including a couple of desks and an armoire.

  She laughed and unearthed a chart from the back of the room. “Look. They used to do a hot wings contest here.”

  Shit. No way they’d kept the same one I’d marked my name on over a dozen years ago. “Let me see that.”

  She handed me the placard. I scanned it, and sure enough, I found my name halfway down the list. “Tribute to my ten-year-old badassery. They also took polaroids of the winners.”

  “They have to be somewhere. Looks like they haven’t thrown anything away.” Within a minute, Zoey fished out a wire basket filled with photos, ea
ch person holding up the “We Survived the Fiery Five” shirt. “Oh my God, look at the ’stache on that guy,” she said, giggling.

  “There’s still wing sauce in it,” I said.

  She laughed even harder at this and continued to sort through the photos.

  “Oh, jackpot,” she squealed.

  “What?”

  “A certain someone with a bowl cut.” Her gaze cut to mine. “I also like the bleached tips. Very early two-thousands of you.”

  I groaned and reached for the photo.

  “Oh no, we’re going to frame this. Don’t think for one second you’re destroying this beautiful masterpiece.”

  “I was a masterpiece, wasn’t I?”

  “Were you always this modest? Or was it after you stopped using a mixing bowl as a haircut aid?”

  “Hey, I put in the hard work. Just because my snowboarding career has been successful doesn’t mean I’m not modest.” I let my runs down the mountain speak for me and left the preening on live TV for my teammates. I’d made sure to keep true to what my mother taught me, even if my brother sometimes lost sight of it.

  “I was just giving you a hard time. It must be tough being in the spotlight twenty-four seven.”

  I glanced at the photo still in her hand. “Yeah, my mom kept us pretty sheltered when we were younger. Didn’t want us having anything to do with my grandparents’ lifestyle.”

  “It must have been a shock living with them afterward.”

  “It was. I still won’t take their money, even though they’ve been begging me for years to tap into my trust fund.”

  “Any reason? I’d kill to have money sitting around for me.” She smiled.

  “It just doesn’t feel right.”

  A knock came from the entrance of the room. The foreman said, “Zoey, we’re heading out to lunch. You want us to pick you up anything? We’re going to that diner a few miles south.”

  “I packed a lunch. Thanks, Tom.”

  She looked back at me expectantly with those eyes. Those damn eyes that would make me confess every fucking thing I’d ever done. And I realized I wanted to.

  I motioned to the trash can. “Let’s haul this stuff to the dumpster and then take a break.”

  With her crew on lunch, we had the resort to ourselves. Zoey and I unloaded two large trash bags into the dumpster and decided that was enough until the demo team returned.

  She swiped her arm across her forehead, her cheeks pink from the activity. This was the most gorgeous I’d ever seen her. Not because of what she was wearing, but because for the first time since I’d met her, she didn’t have her guard up. I was seeing her—the real Zoey.

  “It’s so pretty out here,” she said.

  “It is. Great day for boarding.” I still hadn’t strapped onto one, mostly because I was scared as hell to tweak my leg again, but if I wanted to be on the roster for the season opener, I needed to get my ass into gear soon. It had to be a step in the right direction that I was walking around without my crutches, almost pain-free.

  “I’ve never been,” she said.

  “Do you want to try it?”

  “I guess someday, maybe.” She shrugged. “I’ve never really considered it.”

  “How about now?”

  She laughed. “I kinda need a board for that.”

  “I have one.” She didn’t know it, but I’d caught her watching Jason and me ride down the beginner’s hill on Friday. Zoey tolerated me, at best, most days, but right now she didn’t look like she wanted to throttle me. Yesterday at the local board shop I’d grabbed a pair of boots that looked close to Zoey’s size. Presumptuous as hell to think that she’d agree to ride with me? Yes. But when it came to her, I’d shamelessly try anything to get an extra few minutes with her.

  “With you? Right now?” She seemed surprised that I’d even ask. It should be obvious to her. I’d do just about anything when it came to Zoey Reynolds.

  “Yes.”

  …

  Zoey

  All aboard the Stupid Express. And there was only one passenger on this train: me.

  I shifted as I stood on Ryder’s board, cussing under my breath. Strapped in with a pair of boots that were one size too large, I wondered at this incredibly poor life choice. If he was a pro and broke his leg, that didn’t exactly bode well for my six seconds of experience.

  He finished fastening the bindings, checking over everything twice. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were tinged pink from the cold, and my pulse beat rapidly in my temples as I stared at the scruff on his jaw. I, Zoey Reynolds, payer of parking tickets and generally responsible citizen, was strapped to a death trap. And the reason for risking bodily harm? All evidence pointed to the person standing right in front of me. I could add another checkmark next to the list of idiotic things I did due to someone with a Y chromosome.

  I stared at the board, which had a lime green background with a large skull covering the majority of the surface. Yep, total idiot. Feet buckled to a hunk of wood, unable to break free if needed. At least with skis, I could move both of my legs separately. This just seemed…unsafe.

  “I can’t believe you’ve lived in the Pacific Northwest your entire life and never snowboarded. Mount Hood is literally in your backyard.”

  “Crazier things have happened. Like the revival of overalls. Really, who saw that coming?” I looked up at him, panic starting to stiffen my muscles, despite my flippant words. “You’re sure this thing is safe?”

  He shook his head, smiling. “Nothing’s ever a guarantee, but I’m here, and I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

  He hoisted me to a standing position, taking my gloved hands in his. “Just don’t try to catch yourself if you fall. Rookie mistake that breaks a lot of first-timer’s arms.”

  He looked down at our intertwined fingers and swallowed, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down his throat. Ever since the goat incident, he hadn’t asked me out again. Maybe he finally took the hint, or lost interest and moved on. The thought of him being with anyone else sent a spear of jealousy flashing hot and intense under my skin.

  Oh my God. Stop it.

  This was just getting pathetic if I was irked by a potential other woman. I had no claim on Ryder. In fact, I’d told him the exact opposite.

  “So, first things first. You need to bend your knees.” He lowered into a loose crouch and tapped at the backs of my legs. “If you go down the slope with locked knees you’ll fall on your face. The closer to the ground, the better.”

  “Okay.” I bent even lower.

  He chuckled and pulled me up slightly. “We’re not doing power squats here, Flash. A slight bend in your knees should be sufficient for right now.”

  “Oh, right.” I lessened my crouch and looked up to find him smiling at me. His black beanie came halfway down his forehead, and his dark hair curled around the edges of the cap.

  “Next step: point your board down the mountain, left foot in front of you.” He pushed the board with his foot, positioning me toward the bottom of the hill.

  “So it’s almost like surfing. Only on snow.”

  His lips twitched. “Kind of.”

  I had a feeling that what I’d said had been completely off, but he’d been polite enough not to rub it in my face.

  I shifted my board as he kept a gentle hold on me, our fingers still laced. “You don’t have to keep holding my hand, you know.”

  Even if I do like it.

  Being this close to him opened a floodgate of wants and needs. I wanted my nose buried against his skin, to commit his exact scent to memory. I needed to be near him, to lose myself in his warmth, his strong arms, his ability to calm me and put me on high alert at the same time. I’d gone mad with want.

  “Would you rather fall on your ass a million times or listen to me for one second?” he said, pulling me back to the present.

  “I’ll take my chances.” I did yoga on a daily basis. If I could handle a Firefly pose, I was fairly certain I could stand
still on a board. This wasn’t rocket science.

  He let go, and I immediately lost my balance and dropped down onto the snow. Okay, apparently it was rocket science, and I was getting a crash course in the laws of physics. This snow wasn’t as soft as the powder I’d encountered in other parts of the mountain, and my butt connected with what I found to be hard, compacted ice. Pain zinged up my tailbone, and it took everything in me not to wince. There’d be bruising there tomorrow, for sure.

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine. You’re right.” I held up my arms. “Help me up?”

  He grabbed both my hands and hoisted me to a standing position again. “Glad to see you’re finally listening to something I suggest.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You haven’t taught me anything except that snow hurts way worse than water.”

  We started moving down the mountain, and Ryder kept ahold of me the entire way, which was only a few yards but felt a lot longer. A sloth might beat me down the mountain at this rate. My fingers clasped Ryder’s as he moved me along the snow. Something about the way he held himself, so sure, so comfortable, caused a flicker of heat to spread through my freezing limbs.

  I needed to take my mind off him. “Okay, game time. Would you rather swim in a shark tank with a gaping wound, or have creepy clowns follow your every move.”

  “The shark tank.”

  I looked at him.

  “What? Clowns are creepy as shit.”

  I burst out laughing. Leave it to him to pick death over a carnival staple.

  Before I knew it, we were at the bottom of the hill, and this time I hadn’t fallen.

  “You’re doing great, Flash. A natural.”

  Ever since the day I met Ryder, I’d never doubted he felt secure in his own skin. Confident to a fault, he made it seem that everything he touched, everything he accomplished, was done with passion and power. Cocky. I used to see this as a weakness, but maybe I had it all wrong. Maybe it was all a front. On the mountain, he was an entirely different man. He wasn’t pushy, just exuded quiet confidence that beamed like starlight in his eyes. This was his love, his life, and the way he moved in the snow with unexpected grace…I’d never witnessed anything so sexy.