A scintillating story of secrets, sex, and snowboarding, Taking the Plunge is the debut novel from J.B. Reynolds and the first book of the Small Town, High Country romantic comedy series. Here’s Chapter One.

Taking the Plunge

Kate shivered as a gust of wind ripped across Coronet Peak, shaking the chairlift. She looked down at the rented snowboard dangling from her feet, reaching out to dislodge a chunk of snow from the binding. It fell, dropping onto the head of a skier weaving beneath the lift, who skidded to a stop, squawking up at her with a clenched fist.
“Sorry,” she shouted down, but the wind whipped her words away and she was unsure if the skier heard them. She returned her gaze to the chair in front of her, where Evan and his companion were engaged in animated conversation. The woman, from some South American country — Brazil? Argentina? Chile? — was angled towards Evan, her arms raised and extended in a gesture that suggested they were discussing the size of a fish she’d caught. Like a bunny in its winter coat, she was wrapped in a pale grey and white ski jacket, her thick black hair flowing in waves from beneath a fluffy grey beanie, so cute it made Kate sick. Even from behind, Kate could tell she wore a smile so big it was a wonder her head didn’t fall off. She’d been flirting with Evan the entire lesson and he’d lapped it up, barely giving Kate or anyone else in their group a second glance.
She placed her gloved hands on the bar and rested her chin on top of them, sighing. The only reason she’d booked the lesson in the first place — the only reason she’d travelled all the way from Cromwell to Queenstown to come snowboarding — was so she could flirt with Evan.
She’d met him for the first time earlier in the winter, when she’d come skiing with her bastard ex and on a whim had decided to ditch her skis and try snowboarding for the first time. She’d joined Evan’s group lesson and even then, before everything had gone tits up with Lawrence, she was smitten. The way his blonde curls fell around his forehead, framing bright blue eyes and an easy smile, the warm and friendly manner in which he delivered his instructions, the relaxed but purposeful movement of his body across the snow — all combined to send a delicious little tingle up her spine when she thought of him.
She’d seen him again a week or so later, a chance encounter in the street when she’d been out shopping with a friend, a few days after she’d discovered Lawrence was cheating on her. That meeting had been brief, but the imaginary ones she’d had since were anything but. In the long nights following her decision to send Lawrence packing, feeling lonely and sorry for herself, eyes wide despite her exhaustion, she’d spent hours thinking about Evan. Her fantasies had helped to calm the buzzing in her skull, replacing it instead with a buzzing between her legs.
Finally, she could stand it no longer. She’d booked a lesson, asking for Evan by name. In her head, the plan was perfect. The day would dawn bright and clear and she’d make the long drive with the stereo blasting. Evan would welcome her with a beaming smile, resting his hand on her hip as he guided her across the snow. They’d laugh and chat, have eyes only for each other, and he’d ask for her number. She’d already written it on a slip of paper, folded into the pocket of her jacket. She was nothing if not prepared, and if he asked her out for a glass of mulled wine after the lesson she could always call Lawrence and tell him he could keep Corbin a little longer — she was going to be late home.
But when she’d arrived the South American skank was already there, batting eyes like chocolate icing and wrinkling her freckled nose when she giggled, which seemed to be every time Evan opened his mouth. Of course her name was Maria, with an R that rolled like a burst of machine-gun fire, and it was her hips his hands rested on, her face he looked for when he stopped halfway down the learners’ slope, beckoning the rest of the group to follow. She’d stuck to him like glue for the duration of the lesson and now they’d left the learner’s slope, graduating to the main chairlift for their final run.
Approaching the terminal, Kate sucked in a breath. It would be mortifying to fall over, especially if the lift operator had to stop the chairlift to assist her. After years of skiing, she still hated that feeling — dangling in mid-air, stomach lurching — while some useless bugger was being scraped off the snow at the top of the lift. She was damned if she was going to be that useless bugger.
Ahead of her, Evan and the luscious Latino had reached the terminal. As they exited, he placed his arm behind her, guiding her away from the chair to the edge of the run, easing her down onto the hard packed snow. Kate snorted in disgust. Sure, it was easy when you had someone to help you.
Her stomach fluttered as the chair bounced over the rollers on the final approach. She focused, envisioning the steps in her mind, then lifted the bar, placed her left foot onto the snow, stood and dropped her right foot onto the back of the board, letting the chair push her forward and out of the way as it swung round. She pushed with her back foot and glided across the snow, smiling, hoping Evan would turn around to congratulate her on her perfect dismount, but he didn’t, having eyes only for the Brazilian bitch. She came to a slow stop, slumping down onto her bum behind them.
She heard a yelp and turned to see another member of their lesson group, a slight, bespectacled man in a red ski-suit, go down in front of the chairlift, his legs sliding out from beneath him. He grabbed desperately for his wife beside him but she dodged and let him drop, skiing gracefully out of the danger zone. The liftie, a young man with dreadlocks and a scraggly beard, hit the emergency-stop button and ran to his aid, helping him up and dusting him off. No damage done, except to his dignity, and perhaps to his faith in his wife. Kate thanked God it was him and not her.
If Evan and Maria had noticed, they ignored it. Kate punched her loose binding, dislodging snow so she could tighten the ratchet, and watched them both stand and begin their descent — Evan relaxed and smooth, followed by Maria who was tentative and twitchy. They hadn’t gone far, perhaps fifty metres, when he turned and skidded to a halt at the side of the run and faced back up the slope, beckoning Maria to join him. Then he caught Kate’s eye, waving her down.
She didn’t move, considering her options. If she didn’t do something to get his attention it would be Maria and not her he’d be sharing a mulled wine with at the end of the day. And by the way their eyes kept sliding towards each other, whatever Kate did, it would need to be dramatic.
She swung her board over so her body was facing the slope.
Drama had been her favourite subject in high-school.
Pushing herself up off the snow, she pointed her board downhill, beginning the descent, then leaned on her heels to cut across the run. She turned again, onto her toe-side, executing it perfectly, picking up speed. She crossed the run again, made another heel-side turn, this time adding a clumsy wave of her arms for effect. Adjusting her balance, she aimed directly for Evan and Maria, then let out a squeal. Maria’s eyes sprang wide.
“Heeelp!” Kate shrieked, flailing her arms.
“Turn, turn!” Evan shouted at her.
“I can’t! I’m going too fast!”
She saw Maria take evasive action, dropping down the slope. Evan stayed where he was, hands pushed forward and knees bent, bracing for the collision. At the last moment, she kicked her back foot out hard, spraying a wave of snow at Evan but also taking the bulk of her speed off. She hit him just after the blast of snow, arms outspread, turning her head so that their faces didn’t mash, and he caught her, softening the blow. Her momentum pushed them back to the edge of the trail, his feet catching on the small ledge formed by the snow groomer’s passing, and they collapsed into the lumpy snow beyond.
Evan groaned. The brim of her beanie had slipped over her eyes and she raised it so she could see. Evan’s face was covered in a coating of white powder, like a cupcake dusted with icing sugar.
“Oh, my God! Are you okay?” she asked, wiping his cheek.
“Your knee’s in my crotch,” he said, his voice tight.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” She shifted her knee, moving it down, and felt him relax, exhaling warm breath into her face. It smelled of spearmint. “Is that better?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“I’m awfully sorry. I don’t quite know what happened. I thought I had it under control, but then all of a sudden… I didn’t.”
“Don’t be. Happens to everyone. It’s all part of learning.”
She looked into his eyes and gave him her warmest smile. “Thanks for saving me.”
He cocked his head slightly, and perhaps she imagined it — maybe it was just the glare of sun on snow — but she thought she saw a flash, a little spark of chemistry there. Then he smiled too, ripe lips sliding apart, and it was all she could do in that moment, with him lying helpless beneath her, to stop herself from planting a kiss on them.
“What about you? Are you okay?” asked Evan.
Kate stared, searching for that spark again, considering his question. She tightened and relaxed the muscles in her legs but couldn’t feel any pain — and no surprise there, as Evan made a fantastic cushion. Not that he needed to know that.
“My knee, it’s a little sore. I must’ve knocked it on something hard when we landed.”
The corners of his smile crept higher.
“Are you all right, Evan?”
Maria’s voice was sticky and sweet, like melted chocolate. Kate sighed, shifting her weight. Maria was perched on her toes across the slope, facing uphill, her expression sour, as if she’d just sucked on a lemon.
“I think so,” said Kate, waving her away. “You head back down. We’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” said Maria, her frown growing.
“Yeah, I’m good,” called Evan. To Kate, he said, “As much fun as this is, do you think you could roll off now?”
“Oh, okay. Hold on, let me just…” She grunted, pushing herself up and back, lifting her board so her knees could slide on the snow.
He rolled himself onto his knees, then stood, dusting snow off his pants and jacket. Extending a glove, he pulled Kate to her feet. She slipped forward and he leaned into her, placing his hands on her waist to stop them both from sliding. She gasped.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little,” she said, faking a grimace. “I might need some help getting down the mountain. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Course not. It’s my job.” He turned towards Maria, who was scowling up at them. “You go ahead, Maria. Kate’s hurt her knee. I’m gonna stay with her and help her down.”
Kate gave Maria her sweetest smile and waved. Maria’s scowl turned into a pout. Turning, she gave a dramatic flick of her hair and sped off down the slope.
“Wow,” said Kate, “look at her go. It’s like she’s chasing a burrito.” Evan dragged his eyes away from the disappearing Maria to look at Kate, who turned to him, still smiling, and added, “She must’ve had a good teacher.”
“I try,” said Evan.
I’m sure you do, she thought.

Missed the opening? Head back to the Prologue.

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A gritty and engaging story of human faults, fears, and frailty, What Friends Are For is the prequel short story to my tragicomic novel, Taking the Plunge. Introduce yourself to the characters from the novel and find out where it all begins for Kate, Tracy, Evan and Lawrence.

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