The Resolution - The dance
Chapter 16
At the end of the day’s skiing, the group trudges back to the chalet — exhausted, exhilarated, and already swapping stories about their favourite runs.
Walking up the chalet door, Gregg commends them for their efforts. “Great work for a first day. Make sure you soak those muscles.” Then, casually, he asks about their evening plans.
“We’ve got a table booked for nine,” Sally tells him.
“Perfect. I’ll see you at the bar later,” he says, giving them a quick wave before disappearing down the snowy path.
“Anyone fancy a beer?” Nick asks as they step into the warm chalet.
“I’ll have one — after a lie-down and a shower. In that order,” Tom replies, stretching dramatically.
Everyone murmurs in agreement, and they agree to meet back in the living room at six for a pre-dinner drink.
Upstairs, Caro runs a hot bath. As she sinks into the fragrant water, her entire body exhales. The heat seeps into every sore muscle, melting the tension away.
“I wonder how the girls are coping if I’m this sore, she muses. And I’m the fittest of us,” she smiles.
Resting her head against the edge of the tub, she closes her eyes.
So… what do we think of Mr. Ski? her inner voice chimes in.
Caro smiles to herself but feels a flicker of doubt.
He’s definitely interested. I enjoy his company. He’s hot. But a roll with him? Hmmm… not sure. I mean it is such a cliché.!
By six, everyone has reconvened in the living room, beers in hand, cheeks pink from the heat of their showers or baths and enjoy the comfort of each other’s company. They share highlights from the day, laugh about dramatic wipeouts, and toast their successful first day.
At eight-thirty, they head down to the pub, their second wind carrying them through the cold.
The place is buzzing, with only a few tables left. As they walk in, the waitress spots Sally and Caro and waves them over.
“Glad to see you guys,” she says. “I saved you a corner table — the band gets loud, and this spot gives you some breathing room.”
“Great thanks. I’m Sally, and this is Caro,” Sally introduces them.
“Meg,” the waitress replies with a grin. “Get settled, and I’ll come back for your drinks.”
They take their seats, commenting on the unmistakably Irish vibe of the pub.
“We came all the way to Austria to sit in an Irish pub,” Jim groans.
“It’s the only one with live music,” Nick counters. “Feel free to find a quieter one.”
Jim flips him the finger just as Meg returns, grinning as she takes their orders.
“Okay, Caro,” Tom says, holding up an empty glass for the drink’s kitty, “since you won the race, you’re exempt tonight.”
“Tomorrow, though,” he adds with a grin, “I’m going to beat you.”
“You’re on,” Caro replies sweetly. “Just don’t bet anything you can’t afford to lose.”
Laughter and jeers erupt as the group begins debating what the next day’s wager should be.
As the drinks arrive, so does Gregg, carrying his own pint. He’s greeted with cheers and slides into the open seat beside Susie. Banter flows around the table until the band kicks off and the noise drowns out all but the closest conversations.
Sally and Luce are the first to hit the dance floor, swept up in the music. Gradually, others follow, until the space is packed with dancers.
Caro and Susie dive in too, laughing as they lose themselves in the crowd and the rhythm.
When the band breaks, the girls return to the table, glowing and breathless. Meg reappears with another round and leaves a jug of water with glasses. This time, Gregg is sitting beside Caro.
“You’re as good a dancer as you are a skier,” he says, watching her down a glass of water.
“Not as good as Luce or Sally,” she replies, brushing a few damp strands of hair from her face.
He gives her a crooked smile. “The lads told me you all had a good day.”
“We did — though I doubt our muscles will say the same tomorrow.”
“Dancing helps,” he says knowingly.
After a brief pause, Caro asks, “How’s our original ski instructor?”
“Still out. Thinks she has the measles, poor thing. She’ll be off for a few more days.” He turns to look her directly in the eye. “Which means you’re stuck with me for the rest of your stay.”
Then, his voice drops just slightly. “How do you feel about that, Caro?”
She meets his gaze without blinking. “I think I can handle it — especially if I pick up a few tips from a pro.”
As she speaks, she slowly, intentionally licks her lips together, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Gregg laughs out loud. “Game on, Caro.”
The band launches back into another set, and the girls return to the dance floor.
When they come back, the guys are deep into a card game — Gregg included. This time, Caro finds herself sitting next to Luce.
“Are you into Gregg?” Luce asks quietly. “Because he’s definitely into you.”
Caro glances at Gregg, who is focused on his cards, then leans in.
“He’s fit, no question. And a great skier. But I get the feeling he goes through more women than most people have hot dinners. I’m not volunteering to be his next one.”
Luce grins. “Fair. Still, I’ll do some recon. You need a little spice in your life. I’ve got Jim — I’m sorted.”
Caro laughs and pulls her into a hug as the band slows the pace, shifting into a ballad.
And for the first time in a long while, Caro feels a spark of possibility — and the thrill of having choices.