Gray seemed visibly surprised by my outburst, blinking slowly for a second or two. And then he grinned that wicked, crooked smile of his. “Chopping wood? Hiking? Fishing? Mountain men like me?”

Crap. Had I just been unbearably ignorant? “You don’t like all that?”

“I don’t chop wood. You can buy it chopped. I hate fishing. It bores the fuck out of me. But I do like hiking, mountain biking, running, and anything else that gets my blood pumping. However”—he leaned toward me—“I don’t need you to like all those things. Though I have a feeling I can talk you into hiking.”

“How’s that?”

He studied me carefully. “Saw you come out of the lodge before you came here this morning. You just stopped and stared out across the valley wearing this sweet little smile. You appreciate the beauty of where you are, I can tell. I could take you hiking to some beautiful spots in the summer.”

Ah there’s the rub. “I won’t be here, Gray.”

His eyes heated at my soft reply. “I like the way you say my name, angel.”

“I’m not an angel.”

“You like to bake?”

It was my turn to blink at the random question. “Yes. Do you?”

Gray shook his head. “No, but I sure as shit would love to taste whatever you can bake.”

I laughed at his persistence. “You’re tireless.”

“Yeah. So if you’re done trying to put me off—stellar job by the way—will you have dinner with me tonight?”

Before I could answer, a young woman, perhaps a few years younger than me, approached our table wearing snow gear and clutching a to-go cup. “Hey, Gray.” She smiled prettily down at him.

He gave her a warm smile in return that immediately made me pay close attention to their interaction. “Whitney, hey.”

“You’re not going on the slopes today?” She shot me a curious look.

“There doesn’t seem to be a need for me today. You booked up?”

“All day.” She nodded and looked at me again.

Gray caught it and gestured to me. “Whitney, this is Autumn. Autumn, this is Whitney. Whitney’s a ski instructor during high season, college junior otherwise.”

She smiled politely at me. “You’re a guest?”

“I am.” And deciding to try to push Gray again, I blurted, “I take it Gray is the resort’s local player? Flirts with all the guests and persistently asks them out to dinner?”

His head snapped my way at the question and I could feel his frown even though I kept my gaze locked on Whitney.

Her eyes widened and she turned back to Gray. “Did you break up with Yvette?”

Yvette? Who was Yvette?

“Almost a year ago,” he answered but kept his focus on me.

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” She looked at me. “To answer your question, no, Gray isn’t the resort’s local player—far from it. Last I heard he was in a serious relationship. But, you know, maybe you should ask him yourself since he’s sitting right there.” She shot him a look that clearly said ‘good luck’ and strode out of the coffeehouse.

Squirming a little, I forced myself to meet his gaze.

He did not look happy.

“She has a crush on you,” I said for some inane reason.

“I know,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I’ve known her since she was seventeen so it’s not going to happen.”

I nodded and tried to appear like I didn’t care about anything one way or the other.

“Want to tell me what the hell that was about? You got something to ask, babe, you ask me.”

I suspected the transition from ‘angel’ to ‘babe’ in the endearment department wasn’t a good thing, and I hated that it caused this horrible ache in my chest. The truth was just because I couldn’t give in to my attraction to Gray didn’t mean I wanted him to dislike me.

“I thought I made it clear I’m not trying to play you.”

“You did.”

“So you want to explain the attitude with Whitney?”

We stared at each other in silence and then he sighed, not hiding his disappointment. “Swear to God, you walked into that restaurant and everything about you drew me like I’d been trekking through snow for days and you were a roaring fucking fire just out of reach. But I guess I was wrong.”

Hurt, I flinched, not wanting him to think I was cold.

Frustration crossed his expression. “Now why the hell do I feel like I need to apologize?” he practically growled.

“You don’t.” I shook my head and bravely stared right into his gorgeous eyes while I gave him the truth. “Gray, this can’t happen. You want to know why I came here? Because my life is a mess. I have no job, no idea what I want to do with my life, and my last boyfriend hit me and then started to harass me when I broke things off with him for hitting me.”

The air at the table suddenly felt stifling as Gray’s face darkened with fury.

His intense reaction at once frightened and thrilled me but I forged ahead. “The guy before him stole my money. We decided to open a catering company together, I handed over the start-up funds without any legal paperwork, and he took off with my money instead. There was nothing I could do unless I wanted a long and lengthy legal battle where a court full of people would hear how trusting and foolish I’d been. Before him, my boyfriend cheated with someone I thought was my friend. And before him was my first real boyfriend. He was older than me—looking back, much too old for me—and I learned too late I was one of many ‘young things’ he liked to ‘collect.’” My chest tightened at the anger in Gray’s eyes, knowing that it was on my behalf. “I’m not saying I don’t trust people, trust men. I’ve proven time and time again that I wear my heart on my sleeve. And my brother is a prime example that good men exist. But the last guy was kind of the straw that broke the camel’s back.”