Eve’s Ski Resort Romance – part 2
The view from the top of Mount Mayberry spread across the horizon like a winter’s solace of snow-capped pines and firs. Freshly fallen snow covered the ski slope below like powdered sugar as a brisk breeze tore through Eve Jones’ double-insulated jacket. Breathing out misty entrails in the biting air, she hesitated before taking on the next push down the ski slope with her ridiculously handsome European ski instructor, Andre Carot.
It was hard enough handling the pounding of her nervous heart on the way up the ski lift, but now there was no turning back as she prepared to ski down the slope again. Yet with Andre, things seemed easier and a touch more graceful with every tumble she took all the way down.
After all, she had chosen this voluntarily. No one was forcing her to throw her body around like a rag doll on ice. It was all about meeting hot guys on skis. Deirdre didn’t share the same opinion and by day two had bowed out of Eve’s snow fantasy. That left Eve alone with Andre, and soon it wasn’t just the skiing that made sweat beads trickle down her frozen brow.
Suddenly, they were off down the slope. It was a bit like jumping off a cliff, Eve imagined. You shoved off on the skis and let the force of gravity have its way. It was as exhilarating as it was terrifying. Andre did it effortlessly, as easily as breathing. Eve struggled once again, trying to keep her skis from flying out of control and moving her poles in the right position to keep her balance.
Andre coached her along side. “The hands are held this way, my dear,” he said with that freakishly charming Swiss accent. “Loose, but ready for instant action.”
“Instant action, eh?” Eve quickly fantasized about those delicious words. In her mind, Andre would stop skiing and sweep her off her skis, rolling her gently to the soft snow, kissing her madly as both sets of their hands warmed body parts. The distraction was enough to derail her train of thought as well as her balance, and with a swoop, her skis took to the air and she dropped hard onto her back, sliding several feet on her butt in the cold snow.
“Instant enough, Andre?” Eve asked, smirking from the ground.
Andre came to a snow-spraying halt next to her and grinned. “You fall with a grace that would shame a queen!”
With her hair disheveled and her body aching in places she could only dream Andre would touch, Eve called, “Well, this queen has been dethroned! Help me up – pullease!”
Later that afternoon, as Eve was leaving, she turned and waved to Andre. “So long, Andre. See you when the bruises heal!”
Andre called after her from the steps to the back entrance to the lodge. “Remember, my dear Eve. Skiing is not so much a sport as a way of life. It will teach you to fly… fly… fly!” With each “fly,” Andre lifted his arms wider and higher as his voice rose like a baritone in an opera.
After Eve had gone, Andre stepped back into the lodge, only to be greeted by a familiar voice like out of a dream, a woman who had once stolen his heart.
“When will you change your tired old routine, my darling?” she chuckled. “‘It will teach you to fly… fly… fly!'” she mocked with the same signature gestures and operatic voice. “How trite can you get?”
“Laura!” Andre belted out in surprise.
Laura was immediately on him like scaly skin to a snake. Her satin lips covered his easily and his heart lifted with that old familiarity as his body filled with warmth. With his arm around her waist, he drew her in and deepened the kiss.
“Laura, your love,” she said, her hand tenderly on his cheek. “Laura, your life, your soul, your passport to eternal happiness. Laura – your patsy.”
Andre was confused as he took half a step back. “But … but it was you who cast me aside! It was you who said I was a mannequin – a cardboard man.” That one had hurt, even though he would be the first to admit that he was all cardboard and wooden lumber drives when it came to making love, but nobody could say nothing about him on the slopes. But wait, there was more! “That you could not love a creature that was not loved by others. That to you, winning a man from another woman was a triumph!”
“Did I say all that?” Laura said, feigning innocence. “Well, I suppose I meant it.”
“Well, I am truly loved by another,” Andre said with eyes like steel pride. “And… and I am convinced that in time, I will love her, too!”
Meanwhile, back at the Jones’ house, Eve was thawing out from her winter romp on the slopes with dashing Andre. She was curled up on her vanity chair and gazing in the mirror, imagining Andre’s face, his lips, his gorgeous smile. What would it be like if he just leaned in and… and…
“Stop daydreaming, Jones,” Eve said out loud, brushing it off. “Andre’s a professional flirt. So what if you think he looks at you special? He probably practices it in front of a mirror.”
Missed Part 1? Check it out here! Ski resort of love
Read the entire comic below: