Free Fall by Jill Shalvis Page A

locker, as well, and smiled absently.
    â€œWow. You have a great smile.” She thrust out a hand. “I’m Debbie, by the way.”
    â€œLogan.” He shook the hand she offered and looked into her hungry eyes…still nothing.
    â€œI hope I see you around, Logan. Maybe in the bar, or the hot tub…” With a last, very direct smile, she patted his shoulder and sashayed out of the locker area.
    Logan sighed at himself and headed down the stone staircase toward his room. He figured he’d take a shower and then go eat. And then take the evening from there.
    His room was small but as warm and inviting as the rest of the resort. The walls, painted a soft buttery color, featured framed photographs of the Tahoe area from the late 1800s and early 1900s. The mismatched antique dresser and chair seemed like a perfect fit for the four-poster bed and its patchwork quilt.
    He stripped out of his ski gear and took a long, hot shower, letting the water beat on his back while his mind wandered…right to Lily.
    Unlike Logan, she didn’t have a week off. She wasn’t suddenly…lonely. Damn it . He got dressed and went back upstairs, determined to mingle. To be excited at the prospect of being on his own again. Eating alone in the cafeteria, smiling at strangers, suddenly held little appeal, however, so he headed into the bar, thinking a beer might settle this odd restlessness.
    The bar was done up like an old western saloon, complete with swinging double wood doors, bar stools made from saddles and tables that were shellacked wooden telephone spindles turned on their ends. The place was nearly full, and laughter and talk rang out in pleasant tones as he walked in.
    At home, he and the members of his team often met at Moody’s after an incredibly tough shift, needing to unwind. Logan could walk into that bar any day of the week and come across friends to hang out with. He hadn’t gotten that same level of intimacy last night when he’d wandered through here; this bar had a different energy altogether. It was edgier, louder—more about fun—but still a welcoming place.
    Moving through the crowd, he took a seat on a bar stool. There were two women bartending, both with their backs to him. The closest one was petite in size and wore a black beanie, black leggings on her tight, toned legs, a black silky thermal top that came to her thighs and a white apron, somehow managing to make the simple undergarments look fashionable. When she turned to get his order, a smile split her face.
    He felt the same silly thing happen to him. “Lily Rose.”

5
    â€œW HAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT my middle name?” There was a teasing lilt in those whiskey-colored eyes as Lily spoke. “Have you been enjoying yourself?”
    â€œMore so now.” Reaching out, Logan put his hand over hers and felt the icy cold of her skin sing along his. “Holy smokes.”
    â€œI know. I’m a Popsicle. I just got in a few minutes ago.”
    He entwined her fingers in his and gave a little squeeze, trying to give her some of his warmth. She had short, unpainted fingernails that looked as if maybe she sometimes chewed them, and a silver heart ring on her right thumb, which he glided a finger over. He felt a little tremor go through her body, but didn’t flatter himself. The woman was frozen solid. “Lily, you need a hot shower. How’s your knee?”
    â€œI haven’t had a chance to look at it today.”
    â€œAnd I thought I was dedicated.”
    She laughed again, a soft, musical sound that seemed to wrap around him. “I’m glad to see you here. I figured I scared you off good yesterday, what with all the drama.”
    â€œNah.” Odd how his restlessness had vanished.Granted, being with this woman wasn’t exactly a leisurely vacation, but he thought that what they could share for the next few days might be a lot better. “You should come live a day