Jumped by Colette Auclair Page A

ground next to her.
    â€œWhy take a chance?” He caught her chin with his right hand, while applying sunscreen to the rim of her right ear with his left hand, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. It was such a simple, intimate gesture, it caught Beth completely off guard. She looked up and over his perfectly rumpled, bronzy-brown hair so that she wouldn’t look at his eyes. He turned her face a few inches the other way to coat the other ear. She looked at the handlebars of her bike and could see a distorted version of Finn in the silver tubes. He looked good even warped. And up close like this, he smelled handsome. She made herself stare at the bike and think about where it might’ve been made, because his warm fingers tugging and massaging her ears were unexpectedly sensual. She tried to imagine how the handlebar had been heated and bent into shape in some bicycle factory somewhere, but the sensation on her ear merrily trounced any attempts to shove it aside. She was all about those ears and Finn’s fingers. Darts of pleasure, like lively ponies in a field, made her neck and arms tingle. Goose bumps blossomed on her arms. Goose bumps! Her mind dredged up memories of Finn making love to her amid gloriously rumpled sheets early one rainy morning—God, but he had been otherworldly in bed—and she wanted to grab his head and kiss him. Right there, in front of everyone. But instead she fastened her gaze on sunlight sparkling on the tiny bell on her bike.
    â€œThere,” Finn said softly, and tugged her earlobe. Her eyes refused to do the sensible thing and keep staring at the bell. Instead, the traitors took the dangerous path up to his eyes. She held her breath and dived into those cerulean depths, her mind cleared of everything except . . . Finn.
    He grazed her cheek with his thumb while his fingertips trailed along her jawline to the tip of her chin. He gently pinched her there and flashed an uncertain smile that said he had gotten as lost as she had.
    It would be so easy to kiss him. It would be a cinch. All she had to do was lean forward, and she was pretty sure he would take care of the rest. What would one lousy kiss hurt?
    â€œFinn, you change your mind?” Melissa wheeled her bike next to Beth.
    Finn looked at the new bride. “Nah. Just making sure Bethany here knows how to use the bell to scare away bears.”
    The spell was broken. They were exes once more. Which was as it should be.

    Armed with a list of addresses and his car’s GPS, Finn set out to find the more stupendous homes in Aspen and its environs. He had researched the more innovative Aspen architecture firms before moving. Eventually he’d tour Beaver Creek and Vail as well. Driving the steep, twisty mountain roads, he saw five of the homes on his list. They were all sprawling, constructed mostly of wood and stone, and had plenty of windows that offered eye-popping views of the mountains, ski runs, or Roaring Fork Valley. It was architect porn.
    Finn was especially interested in seeing how the structures fit into the environment. Being on site also gave him a feel for the building. He couldn’t explain it, but he’d always equated it with Bethany talking about “feel” when riding, the ability to know what the horse was going to do before it happened. It was architect’s intuition, and it was critical when you were going to build someone’s home.
    At the last house, which was the most grand, he saw flaws and knew he would have done it better. If he could make his own luck here, he’d soon be one of the Rocky Mountain region’s premier architects. And he had a particular project in mind—a request for bids had come to his attention from Mitchell Frederick. “Uncle Mitch” was an old friend of Bethany’s family. If he could land this job, he’d be set.
    As his eyes roamed over the soaring structure with its large windows and expanses of stone,