Rm w/a Vu(125)
A cold wind picks up, and I grab onto Greyston’s arm a little tighter, sidling up to him to shield me from the wind as it cuts through my jeans. “Wow! Even though there’s no snow, it’s still unbelievably cold. I’m glad you suggested I change.”
With a laugh, Greyston unlocks the SUV. “I wasn’t joking. Though, if you find Vancouver cold, I’m a little afraid to take you to Whistler.” I laugh nervously, half-hoping he’s just kidding. Truthfully, I suspect he’s not. “But don’t worry, the car should warm up soon, and we’ll be at the cabin before you know it… Actually, it’s probably going to be quite a bit colder this evening, so we can just light a fire and stay in all night, if you’d prefer?”
Curious about what else he might have planned, I quirk an eyebrow. “As opposed to?”
Greyston shrugs non-committedly. “I hadn’t really made plans for tonight. I figured we’d play it by ear.”
I slip into the passenger seat and rub my hands together. “Staying in and lighting a fire sounds wonderfully warm,” I tell him, trying not to let my teeth chatter too loudly.
Once he’s behind the wheel, Greyston starts the car and turns on the heated leather seats. Within minutes, a blast of warmth moves through me, starting at my ass. It’s both odd and amazing at the same time. I laugh in response, and Greyston turns to me, right eyebrow arched.
“It’s stupid,” I try to tell him, but he insists on knowing what I’m thinking. “I’ve never, um, experienced heated leather seats before.” The warmth travels to my cheeks—then again, that could very well just be me blushing. “It’s a strange feeling.”
In an effort to pass the time on our drive to Whistler, I ask about the cabin and the resort we’ll be skiing at, and then I ask what all he has planned while we’re there. I’m about to argue with his plan of taking me out for a few drinks when he tells me that the legal age here is nineteen—nineteen.
I look at the clock on the dashboard and notice that an hour has passed since we left Vancouver. The gloomy clouds have cleared, a bluer sky and the sun having taken its place. Soon, there are heaps of snow along the side of the road, and I’m completely awestruck by the passing scenery as we draw near the mountains.
Another thirty minutes pass before I remember to call my mother to let her know our plane landed safely. She’s happy to hear we’re on our way to the cabin and reminds me to check in again in a few days and take tons of pictures. Before our conversation goes on too long, I promise to call Mom when we get to the cabin so my cell bill isn’t hit with all sorts of roaming charges.
Greyston turns to me as I slip my phone back into my pocket. “Would you mind if we stopped at the grocery store before the cabin? We can always go out to a nice restaurant, if you’d rather we wait for tomorrow.”
“Nah,” I reply, looking out the window at the approaching mountains; they’re breath-taking. “That’s fine… It’s so beautiful here. Cold, but beautiful. How long have you been coming out here?”
Greyston navigates the streets with ease, which makes sense since he’s vacationed here since he was little. “I was ten when they bought the cabin,” he answers my question. “They could see how much I loved it here over the first few years we’d vacation.”
“When’s the last time you came here as a family?” I ask, peeling my eyes away form the view and looking at him.
“It’s been a while. I’ve been busy building the agency, so we haven’t been able to coordinate our schedules.” His smile falters, and his eyebrows pull together. “They’re actually thinking of selling. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to bring you before that happened.”
His sadness fills the car, and I lay a hand on his lap. “I’m sorry.”
Greyston shakes it off, smiling again. “It’s just a part of life, I suppose.”
We arrive at the store a little while later, and I cuddle up to Greyston as we walk through the lot. I clench my teeth to try to keep them from chattering, but it’s no use, and now my jaw hurts.
Greyston wraps an arm around me, hugging me closer. “You’ll adjust to the colder climate soon, sweetheart.
“I’m not too worried. Besides, you promised me a cozy night by the fire, so…”
We walk through the market, aisle by aisle, filling our cart with the necessities we’ll need for our week-long stay at the cabin. We grab plenty of fruits and vegetables, meats, and then a few extra things we don’t need, but figure we may want if the mood strikes—chocolate, ice cream, and a few other various salty and sugary snacks. As we approach the checkout, I realize we’ve forgotten the milk. Naturally, Greyston offers to go get it while I begin to unload the cart, but I go instead.