The Life That Mattered (Life #1)(5)

“Probably.” He shrugged one shoulder.

Dead.

In that moment, I died.

He did not just say that, did he? I was joking. Yes, he was joking too. That meant we were two strangers who found joking about marriage completely acceptable. That had to be a small percent of the population. Less than two percent?

We exchanged looks that neither of us could hold for more than a few seconds without averting our gazes.

What was that?

What the hell just happened?

“So …” I stood on my wobbly legs. “I should get back to the hotel. Thanks for sharing your table with me.”

Ronin unfolded his body from the chair, proving my theory—he was tall. The whole damn package.

“It was nice meeting you, Evelyn.” Ronin glanced at his phone and slipped it back into the pocket of his wool jacket. Then he grabbed his book and opened the door for me.

“Thank you.” I slid past him, accidentally—or not so accidentally—brushing against him. “What did you do here?” I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Nor did I want to sound desperate, but I was sure the hypothetical marriage proposal already blew my cover.

“Which way?” He jerked his chin toward the right.

I pointed to the left, the direction of my hotel.

“Ski patrol in Whistler. I fly out of Vancouver tomorrow for Denver.”

We strolled down the sidewalk, hands in the pockets of our jackets, taking our time. I craved all the seconds I could get with my new friend. At the stoplight, I frowned at my threadbare leggings and pilled, black sweater jacket.

Five years of scuff marks painted my charcoal boots.

No makeup.

Also, as Graham so kindly pointed out, my hair was not shampoo-commercial worthy.

Ronin didn’t seem to care—after all, he could’ve made up any excuse to hop in a cab or walk in the opposite direction, yet he didn’t.

“What does your father do now?” I asked.

“He’s retired, so he travels a lot with my mom. She’s a designer and owns a clothing line. It’s a small line with a limited market, but she’s doing exactly what she loves. Her best friend is her business partner, so it affords her time to travel with my dad. I can’t keep up with them. I think they’re in Kuala Lumpur right now, but I’m not entirely sure.” He chuckled. “Do you live close to your family?”

“Yes. My parents live in Denver. My sister and her husband live in San Francisco, close to my dad’s parents. And my grandma, my mom’s mom, moved into an assisted living facility six months ago in Aurora. I moved out of my apartment last month and into her home, an actual log cabin in Aspen. My grandfather built it. I’m sure it could be worth a lot of money, but my grandma wants me to live there. It’s important to her to see it stay in the family.”

Ronin bobbed his head several times. “I like that. It seems like our generation doesn’t really value things like log cabins built by grandparents. I heard the value of a lot of antiques has gone down because we just don’t value them like generations before ours.”

“I can see that, and it is sad.” I pointed to the entrance of Porter Suites.

We stopped under the awning.

“Nice hotel.” His eyebrows lifted a fraction.

“My best girlfriend is marrying my best guy friend. He’s a Porter—I thought the most sensible one of the bunch, but now he’s talking craziness about getting into politics. I’m not sure he’ll keep a level head if that happens. But … I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he’s just a great guy—albeit a really rich guy—who wants to be a public servant.” I shrugged, slipping my hands back into the pockets of my jacket while blowing hair out of my mouth.

“Graham Porter.”

I twisted my lips, nose wrinkled. “How did you know?”

“No …” Ronin jerked his chin, gesturing over my shoulder. “I mean he’s coming out of the hotel.”

My head whipped around as the lovers emerged from the door held open by the doorman.

It wasn’t surprising Ronin recognized Graham and his fastidious, tabloid-worthy appearance.

“We’re going shopping. Coming, Evie?” Lila held out her hand to me, but then she stopped, letting it fall to her side as her gaze snagged on my tall, new friend. “Hello …” She smiled, showing me a quick where-are-your-manners look.

“Ronin, this is my friend Lila and her fiancé, Graham. This is Ronin. We just met over buns and bubble tea.”

Lila chuckled, reaching for Ronin’s proffered hand. “Buns and bubble tea. We’ll chat about that later, Evie. Nice to meet you, Ronin.”

“You too.” He flashed her a warm smile.

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” Graham shook Ronin’s hand too.

I waited for Graham to make some snide remark about me, just to embarrass me, but he didn’t. Grammy Graham earned extra points for being on his best behavior. Maybe his leap into politics had already matured him. He was thirty-six going on fifty.

“You should invite Ronin to dinner.” Lila looped her arm around Graham’s arm.

Ha!

There was a wedding proposal and a bit of hardcore swooning on my part, but dinner with my friends felt exponentially more intimidating than a hypothetical wedding proposal.