The Resolution - First Date
Chapter 20
Caro stares at her wardrobe, unsure what to wear or where Gregg might take her. After much deliberation, she settles on black jeans, a black camisole, and a sheer silk shirt. Big silver hoop earrings complete the look.
At 6:25, she heads downstairs—only to find the entire group gathered in the living area. “To be fair, their dinner is at 6:30,” her inner voice cautions, warning her not to say something she might regret.
Before anyone can start teasing, the doorbell rings. Sally rushes to answer it.
“Evening, Gregg!” she beams, ushering him inside.
Dressed head-to-toe in black, he looks like he’s walked straight out of a Bond film. His gaze sweeps the room before landing on Caro. She stands out in her ensemble, auburn hair gleaming, eyes framed in smoky makeup, lips painted a rich, sultry red.
Ignoring the others, he offers her a slow, seductive smile and extends a hand. “Are you ready?”
She nods, grabbing her jacket. As he helps her into it, he leans in and murmurs, “You look like a ravishing temptress.”
Caro grins, calling back to the group, “Enjoy your dinner!”
Outside, Gregg opens the door of his SUV and helps her in. It’s warm inside—he’d left the engine running—and she unfastens her jacket, relaxing.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“I thought we’d try the new place that opened just beyond the village—about two miles.”
“I hope I’m dressed okay. I wasn’t sure how formal it would be.”
“You look perfect,” he replies, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
The ride is mostly quiet. Caro’s mind swirls. Should she sleep with him? “He hasn’t even asked you,” her inner voice snaps.
Before she can scold herself further, Gregg squeezes her hand again. “Here we are. You’d better zip up—it’s minus twenty out.”
He leans over and pulls her zipper slowly up to her chin, encasing her in warmth. Then, brushing a thumb lightly over her lips, he sends a shiver down her spine.
Her inner voice fans itself. Oh my.
Gregg hops out and opens her door. He helps her down, not giving her space to step away. As she turns to ask him to move, he pulls her closer and kisses her—softly, deliberately.
“Something to think about for later,” he murmurs.
Before she can reply, he takes her hand and leads her inside.
The restaurant is intimate and elegant. Candle-like lights flicker from the low ceiling. The deep green walls contrast with the polished wood furniture and bare stone floors. A fireplace glows from the wall.
A waiter greets Gregg by name, takes their coats, and leads them to a table near the fire.
As Caro sits, she feels like there are three at the table: herself, Gregg, and the flames.
“Is this table, okay?” the waiter asks.
“It’s lovely,” she replies with a smile.
“This place is cozy, but still stylish,” she adds as the waiter departs.
Gregg nods. “A friend of mine designed it. Opened it about a month ago. Apart from the launch night, this is my first proper visit.”
They open their menus.
“What would you like to drink?” he asks.
“Just a glass of champagne—since we’re skiing early tomorrow, if that’s still on.”
“Definitely,” he assures her.
The waiter returns. Gregg orders two glasses of champagne. When they arrive, he raises his glass.
“To brief encounters,” he says, smiling playfully.
Caro clinks her glass against his. “Brief, but memorable,” she replies coyly.
Gregg watches her. “Don’t overthink it. We both know we’ve only got this week. What happens, happens.”
Caro nods, appreciating the honesty. She changes the subject.
“What do you actually do?”
He tells her how he transitioned into being a ski instructor. “I saw a gap—for more personalised ski experiences. With backing from my dad and brother, I started this business. Now it’s grown into other areas.”
“Like the pub?”
“Exactly. A pub, a restaurant, and five chalets—including yours.”
“That’s impressive,” she says. “Doesn’t leave much time for romance.”
“Correct. I enjoy creating and building things. That’s what drives me. So no, I’m no Casanova.”
The firelight dances in his eyes. She watches, intrigued.
Gregg leans in, taking her hand, stroking it with his thumb. “You’re privileged, Caro. I’m choosing you over work tonight.”
His tone softens. “And yes, knowing this is just a week is a factor.”
Instead of taking offense, Caro finds it disarming. “I appreciate the honesty—it’s refreshing.”
He smiles—then their starters arrive, halting further conversation. They eat in near silence, the food too good to interrupt.
No strings, no expectations—just sex. Are you up for it? her inner voice asks.
Caro considers. Yes. She knows Gregg. It won’t be a cheap one-night stand. Just a one-week stand, her inner voice mutters. Caro chooses to ignore her.
As they finish the starters, they talk about how they unwind. They share little in common—except their love for sport.
The mains are exquisite. They trade forkfuls, heightening the tension between them.
For dessert, they opt for the chocolate fondue — “a must-try,” Gregg insists.
Caro, now relaxed and playful, dips marshmallows, bananas, and strawberries into the molten chocolate, licking it slowly from her fingers before teasing each bite between her lips.
Gregg groans. “I see you, Caro. I know what you’re doing—and it’s working. Are you ready for the consequences?”
Looking at him through lowered lashes, she murmurs, “Yes—as long as we take it slow.”
He takes her hand again, holding it as the waiter clears their table.
“Peter suggests you have coffee and liqueurs on the terrace,” the waiter says. “He’ll join you.”
Gregg nods. “Excellent suggestion.”
As the waiter disappears, Caro frowns. “Isn’t it too cold for the terrace? And who’s Peter?”
Gregg smiles, amused. “Wait and see.”
Chapter 22
The waiter returns with their jackets and gear, leading them through the restaurant and out the back.
As they enter a corridor, Gregg puts on his jacket while the waiter helps Caro with hers. After wishing them goodnight, the waiter guides them to an outside door.
When they step outside, it’s like entering a magical realm. The night is dark, illuminated only by a massive fire pit surrounded by cozy sofas.
Still unsure if it's warm enough, Caro wraps her arms around herself. Gregg turns to her, gently placing his hands on either side of her face as he kisses her softly. Just as they hear the door open, he whispers, “Trust me.”
A large, burly man over six feet tall enters the patio, sporting a ski jacket and carrying a tray with cups of coffee and glasses.
“Sit, sit!” he commands, a friendly grin on his face.
Gregg gestures to a seat, and Caro sits, laughing softly as she feels the warmth from the heated cushion.
“Lean back, relax, Caro,” Gregg advises with a smile. As she leans back, the heat radiates through the cushions, warming her back, bottom, and thighs.
Purring with contentment, Caro sighs, “So clever.”
Gregg and Peter share a warm hug, and Gregg praises, “A great meal, Peter. The flavours were delightful.”
“Oh! Are you the chef?” Caro asks, intrigued.
Reaching over to shake her hand, Peter replies, “Yes, the chef and part owner of this restaurant.”
Caro shakes his hand from her heated perch. “Not only did it taste delicious, but the menu had the perfect balance. It was impressive.”
Bowing slightly, Peter acknowledges her compliment and pours coffee, saying, “You’re the woman who has captured Gregg’s heart?”
Laughing, Caro replies, “I’m the woman who’s captured his loins, rather than his heart!”
Peter looks at her intently and murmurs, “You’re the first woman I know of that Gregg has romanced.”
Hearing that makes Caro feel special and valued; she thinks about how they may only have a week together, yet it seems Gregg doesn’t do casual.
“Go for it, girl. He respects you,” her inner voice advises.
Cocooned in her ski jacket on the heated seat, Caro sips her coffee, enjoying the banter between the two friends.
After a while, Peter takes his leave, expressing how glad he is to have met her. Once Peter is gone, Gregg shifts to sit beside Caro, the warmth between them palpable.
The moon has risen, casting its soft rays onto the snow and creating a strange pale blue hue that adds an eternal feel to the night. Gregg gathers Caro into his arms and softly whispers, “No one will bother us out here. We’re totally private. Are you comfortable?”
She nods and turns in his embrace, curling her legs beneath her as she settles onto his lap, her body pulled close to his. He lowers his mouth to hers; she leans upwards, and their lips meet.
Slowly, softly, gently, and tenderly, they become acquainted with each other’s mouths. The tempo shifts as their exploration intensifies—tongues licking, probing, and teasing, igniting passion, need, and desire. They lose themselves in one another.
After a while, Gregg leans back slightly, reaching for the zipper of her jacket as he gazes into Caro’s eyes. When the zipper is three-quarters of the way down, he leans in again, kissing her deeply while his hand slips underneath her shirt and camisole, finding her smooth, round breast. He cups it, enjoying the weight in his hand, tweaking her nipple and eliciting a satisfying shudder from Caro. He revels in her reactions, the sensations heightening his own desire.
He pulls away, whispering, “We need to go before I can’t control myself.”
Caro reaches up to claim his lips once more, but he grins and says, “You tiger! We really need to go. Remember, we’re up early for skiing.”
Gathering herself, Caro allows Gregg to help with her zipper, and he captures her mouth again as they stand together in the fading light.
“Who would have thought a zipper could be so sexy?” her inner self purrs.
Taking her hand, he leads her through a corridor that opens directly into the parking lot. He opens the door of the SUV for her and helps her in, then climbs in himself. After closing his door, he starts the engine and turns on the heated seats.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Gregg,” Caro sighs.
“Right back at you, Caro. I’m not sure when I’ve enjoyed a woman’s company this much,” he confesses.
The rest of the drive is quiet, with Gregg focused on the road while Caro drifts into her thoughts.
“Bloody typical! You find a man you like, and he likes you, but you live 900 miles apart in different countries!” her inner self complains.
“Yes, for once I agree with you!” Caro thinks, recognizing that she needs to savour every moment with him.
Arriving at the chalet, he puts the car in park but keeps the engine running.
“Guess he’s not coming in for a ‘coffee,’” her disappointed inner self chimes in.
He unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over the centre console, unfastening Caro’s safety belt before pulling her into his arms. He kisses her as if he’s never felt her lips before, igniting passion within her. Yet she pushes him back gently, saying, “It’s too much! I don’t want to go to bed frustrated.”
Understanding her need, he takes her hand and whispers, “Tomorrow.”
Searching his eyes, she finds reassurance in what she sees and nods. After giving him one last quick peck, she opens her door and steps out of the SUV.
“I’ll pick you up at 7:00 a.m. It’ll be very cold. Make sure you have all your gear on,” he calls after her.
She nods again and closes the door, walking back to the chalet without looking back at the departing SUV.
The living area is empty when she lets herself in with her key. She heads straight to bed and falls into a dreamless sleep.