There it was. Sam had to accept that he’d caused his parents more pain at a time when they had already had more than enough loss to deal with. But back then, there had seemed to Sam to be only one answer.
“I had to go.”
One short sentence that encapsulated the myriad emotions that had driven him from his home, his family.
“I know that.” His father’s gaze was steady and there was understanding there as well as sorrow. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it, but I understand. Still, you’re back now. For how long?”
He’d been expecting that question. The problem was, he didn’t have an answer for it yet. Sam ducked his head briefly, then looked at his father again. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” the older man said sadly, “that’s honest at least.”
“I can tell you,” Sam assured him, “that this time I’ll let you know before I leave. I can promise not to disappear again.”
Nodding, his father said, “Then I guess that’ll have to do. For now.” He paused and asked, “Have you seen...anyone else yet?”
“No. Just Kristi.” Sam stiffened. There were still minefields to step through. Hard feelings and pain to be faced. There was no way out but through.
As hard as it was to face his family, he’d chosen to see them first, because what was still to come would be far more difficult.
“Well then,” his father spoke up, “you should know that—”
The elevator swished open. Sam turned to face whoever was arriving and instantly went still as stone. He hardly heard his father complete the sentence that had been interrupted.
“—Lacy’s on her way over here.”
Lacy Sills.
She stood just inside the room, clutching at a basket of muffins that filled the room with a tantalizing scent. Sam’s heart gave one hard lurch in his chest. She looked good. Too damn good.
She stood five foot eight and her long blond hair hung in a single thick braid over her left shoulder. Her navy blue coat was unbuttoned to reveal a heavy, fisherman’s knit, forest-green sweater over her black jeans. Her boots were black, too, and came to her knees. Her features were the same: a generous mouth; a straight, small nose; and blue eyes the color of deep summer. She didn’t smile. Didn’t speak. And didn’t have to.
In a split second, blood rushed from his head to his lap and just like that, he was hard as a rock. Lacy had always had that effect on him.
That’s why he’d married her.
* * *
Lacy couldn’t move. Couldn’t seem to draw a breath past the tight knot of emotion lodged in her throat. Her heartbeat was too fast and she felt a head rush, as if she’d had one too many glasses of wine.
She should have called first. Should have made sure the Wyatts were alone here at the lodge. But then, her mind argued, why should she? It wasn’t as if she’d expected to see Sam sitting there opposite his father. And now that she had, she was determined to hide her reaction to him. After all, she wasn’t the one who’d walked out on her family. Her life. She’d done nothing to be ashamed of.
Except of course, for missing him. Her insides were jumping, her pulse raced and an all too familiar swirl of desire spun in the pit of her stomach. How was it possible that she could still feel so much for a man who had tossed her aside without a second thought?
When Sam left, she had gone through so many different stages of grief, she had thought she’d never come out the other side of it all. But she had. Finally.
How was it fair that he was here again when she was just getting her life back?
“Hello, Lacy.”
His voice was the deep rumble of an avalanche forming and she knew that, to her, it held the same threat of destruction. He was watching her out of grass-green eyes she had once gotten lost in. And he looked so darn good. Why did he have to look so good? By all rights, he should be covered in boils and blisters as punishment for what he’d done.
Silence stretched out until it became a presence in the room. She had to speak. She couldn’t just stand there. Couldn’t let him know what it cost her to meet his gaze.
“Hello, Sam,” she finally managed to say. “It’s been a while.”
Two years. Two years of no word except for a few lousy postcards sent to his parents. He’d never contacted Lacy. Never let her know he was sorry. That he missed her. That he wished he hadn’t gone. Nothing. She’d spent countless nights worrying about whether he was alive or dead. Wondering why she should care either way. Wondering when the pain of betrayal and abandonment would stop.
“Lacy.” Bob Wyatt spoke up and held out one hand toward her. In welcome? Or in the hope that she wouldn’t bolt?
Lacy’s spine went poker straight. She wouldn’t run. This mountain was her home. She wouldn’t be chased away by the very man who had run from everything he’d loved.
“Did you bake me something?” Bob asked. “Smells good enough to eat.”
Grateful for the older man’s attempt to help her through this oh-so-weird situation, Lacy gave him a smile as she took a deep, steadying breath. In the past two years, she had spent a lot of nights figuring out how she would handle herself when she first saw Sam again. Now it was time to put all of those mental exercises into practice.
She would be cool, calm. She would never let on that simply looking at him made everything inside her weep for what they’d lost. And blast it, she would never let him know just how badly he’d broken her heart.
Forcing a smile she didn’t quite feel, she headed across the room, looking only at Bob, her father-in-law. That’s how she thought of him still, despite the divorce that Sam had demanded. Bob and Connie Wyatt had been family to Lacy since she was a girl, and she wasn’t about to let that end just because their son was a low-down miserable excuse for a man.
“I did bake, just for you,” she said, setting the basket in Bob’s lap and bending down to plant a quick kiss on the older man’s forehead. “Your favorite, cranberry-orange.”
Bob took a whiff, sighed and gave her a grin. “Girl, you are a wonder in the kitchen.”
“And you are a sucker for sugar,” she teased.
“Guilty as charged.” He glanced from her to Sam. “Why don’t you sit down, visit for a while? Connie went off to get some snacks. Join us.”
They used to all gather together in this room and there was laughter and talking and a bond she had thought was stronger than anything. Those times were gone, though. Besides, with Sam sitting there watching her, Lacy’s stomach twisted, making even the thought of food a hideous one to contemplate. Now, a gigantic glass of wine, on the other hand, was a distinct possibility.
“No, but thanks. I’ve got to get out to the bunny run. I’ve got lessons stacked up for the next couple of hours.”
“If you’re sure...” Bob’s tone told her he knew exactly why she was leaving and the compassion in his eyes let her know he understood.
Oh, if he started being sympathetic, this could get ugly fast and she wasn’t about to let a single tear drop anywhere in the vicinity of Sam Wyatt. She’d already done enough crying over him to last a lifetime. Blast if she’d put on a personal show for him!
“I’m sure,” she said quickly. “But I’ll come back tomorrow to check on you.”
“That’d be good,” Bob told her and gave her hand a pat.
Lacy didn’t even look at Sam as she turned for the elevator. Frankly, she wasn’t sure what she might do or say if she met those green eyes again. Better to just go about her life—teaching little kids and their scared mamas to ski. Then she’d go home, have that massive glass of wine, watch some silly chick flick and cry to release all of the tears now clogging her throat. Right now, though, all she wanted was to get out of there as quickly as she could.
But she should have known her tactic wouldn’t work.
“
Lacy, wait.”
Sam was right behind her—she heard his footsteps on the wood floor—but she didn’t stop. Didn’t dare. She made it to the elevator and stabbed at the button. But even as the door slid open, Sam’s hand fell onto her shoulder.
That one touch sent heat slicing through her and she hissed in a breath in an attempt to keep that heat from spreading. Deliberately, she dipped down, escaping his touch, then stepped into the elevator.
Sam slapped one hand onto the elevator door to keep it open as he leaned toward her. “Damn it, Lacy, we have to talk.”
“Why?” she countered. “Because you say so? No, Sam. We have nothing to talk about.”
“I’m—”
Her head snapped up and she glared at him. “And so help me, if you say ‘I’m sorry,’ I will find a way to make sure you are.”
“You’re not making this easy,” he remarked.
“Oh, you mean like you did, two years ago?” Despite her fury, she kept her voice a low hiss. She didn’t want to upset Bob.
God, she hadn’t wanted to get into this at all. She never wanted to talk about the day Sam had handed her divorce papers and then left the mountain—and her—behind.
Deliberately keeping her gaze fixed to his, she punched the button for the lobby. “I have to work. Let go of the door.”
“You’re going to have to talk to me at some point.”
She reached up, pulled his fingers off the cold steel and as the door closed quietly, she assured him, “No, Sam. I really don’t.”
Two
Thank God, Lacy thought, for the class of toddlers she was teaching. It kept her so busy she didn’t have time to think about Sam. Or about what it might mean having him back home.
But because her mind was occupied didn’t mean that her body hadn’t gone into a sort of sense memory celebration. Even her skin seemed to recall what it felt like when Sam touched her. And every square inch of her buzzed with anticipation.
“Are you sure it’s safe to teach her how to ski so soon?” A woman with worried brown eyes looked from Lacy to her three-year-old daughter, struggling to stay upright on a pair of tiny skis.
“Absolutely,” Lacy answered, pushing thoughts of Sam to the back of her mind, where she hoped they would stay. If her body was looking forward to being with Sam again, it would just have to deal with disappointment. “My father started me off at two. When you begin this young, there’s no fear. Only a sense of adventure.”
The woman laughed a little. “That I understand.” Her gaze lifted to the top of the lift at the mountain’s summit. “I’ve got plenty of fear, but my husband loves skiing so...”
Lacy smiled as she watched her assistant help a little boy up from where he’d toppled over into the soft, powdery snow. “You’ll love it. I promise.”
“Hope so,” she said wistfully. “Right now, Mike’s up there somewhere—” she pointed at the top of the mountain “—with his brother. He’s going to watch Kaylee while I have my lesson this afternoon.”
“Kristi Wyatt’s teaching your class,” Lacy told her. “And she’s wonderful. You’ll enjoy it. Really.”
The woman’s gaze swung back to her. “The Wyatt family. My husband used to come here on ski trips just to watch the Wyatt brothers ski.”
Lacy’s smile felt a little stiff, but she gave herself points for keeping it in place. “A lot of people did.”
“It was just tragic what happened to Jack Wyatt.”
The woman wasn’t the first person to bring up the past, and no doubt she wouldn’t be the last, either. Even two years after Jack’s death, his fans still came to Snow Vista in a sort of pilgrimage. He hadn’t been forgotten. Neither had Sam. In the skiing world, the Wyatt twins had been, and always would be, rock stars.
The woman’s eyes were kind, sympathetic and yet, curious. Of course she was. Everyone remembered Jack Wyatt, champion skier, and everyone knew how Jack’s story had ended.
What they didn’t know was what that pain had done to the family left behind. Two years ago, it had been all Lacy could think about. She’d driven herself half-crazy asking herself the kind of what-if questions that had no answers, only possibilities. And those possibilities had haunted her. Had kept her awake at night, alone in her bed. She’d wondered and cried and wondered again until her emotions were wrung out and she was left with only a sad reality staring her in the face.
Jack had died, but it was the people he’d left behind who had suffered.
“Yes,” Lacy agreed, feeling her oh-so-tight smile slipping away. “It was.” And tragic that the ripple effect of what happened to Jack had slammed its way through the Wyatt family like an avalanche, wiping out everything in its path.
While the kids practiced and Lacy’s assistant supervised, the woman continued in a hushed voice. “My husband keeps up with everything even mildly related to the skiing world. He said that Jack’s twin, Sam, left Snow Vista after his brother’s death.”
God, how could Lacy get out of this conversation?
“Yes, he did.”
“Apparently, he left competitive skiing and he’s some kind of amazing ski resort designer now and he’s got a line of ski equipment and he’s apparently spent the last couple of years dating royalty in Europe.”
Lacy’s heart gave one vicious tug and she took a deep breath, hoping to keep all the emotions churning inside her locked away. It wasn’t easy. After all, though Sam hadn’t contacted the family except for the occasional postcard, he was a high-profile athlete with a tragic past who got more than his share of media attention.
So it hadn’t been difficult to keep up with what he’d been doing the past couple of years. Lacy knew all about his businesses and how he’d put his name on everything from goggles to ski poles. He was rich, famous and gorgeous. Of course the media was all over him. So naturally, Lacy had been treated to paparazzi photos of Sam escorting beautiful women to glamorous events—and yes, he had been photographed with a dark-haired, skinny countess who looked as though she hadn’t had a regular meal in ten years.
But it didn’t matter what he did, because Sam was Lacy’s ex-husband. So they could both date whomever they wanted to. Not that she had dated much—or any for that matter. But she could if she wanted to and that’s what mattered.
“Do you actually know the Wyatts?” the woman asked, then stopped and caught herself. “Silly question. Of course you do. You work for them.”
True. And up until two years ago, Lacy had been one of them. But that was another life and this was the one she had to focus on.
“Yes, I do,” Lacy said, forcing another smile she didn’t feel. “And speaking of work, I should really get to today’s lessons.”
Then she walked to join her assistant Andi and the group of kids who demanded nothing but her time.
* * *
Sam waited for hours.
He kept an eye on Lacy’s classes and marveled that she could be so patient—not just with the kids but with the hovering parents who seemed to have an opinion on everything that happened. She hadn’t changed, he thought with some small satisfaction. She was still patient, reasonable. But then, Lacy had always been the calm one. The cool head that invariably had smoothed over any trouble that rose up between Sam and Jack.
He and his twin had argued over everything, and damned if Sam didn’t still miss it. A twinge pulled at his heart and he ignored it as he had for the past two years. Memories clamored in the back of his mind and he ignored them, as well. He’d spent too much time burying all reminders of the pain that had chased him away from his home.
Muttering under his breath, he shoved one hand through his hair and focused on the woman he hadn’t been able to forget. She hadn’t changed, he thought again and found that intriguing as well as comforting. The stir of need and desire inside him thickened into a hot flow li
ke lava through his veins.
That hadn’t changed, either.
“Okay, that’s it for today,” Lacy was saying and the sound of her voice rippled along his spine like a touch.
Sam shook his head to clear it of any thoughts that would get in the way of the conversation he was about to have and then he waited.
“Parents,” Lacy called out with a smile, “thanks for trusting us with your children. And if you want to sign up for another lesson, just see my assistant Andi and she’ll take care of it.”
Andi was new, Sam thought, barely glancing at the young woman with the bright red hair and a face full of freckles. His concentration was fixed on Lacy. As if she felt his focused stare, she lifted her head and met his gaze over the heads of the kids gathered around her.
She tore her gaze from his, smiled and laughed with the kids, and then slowly made her way to him. He watched every step. Her long legs looked great in black jeans and the heavy sweater she wore clung to a figure he remembered all too well.
Despite the snow covering the ground and the surrounding pines, the sun shone brilliantly out of a bright blue sky, making the air warm in spite of the snow. Lacy flipped her long blond braid over her shoulder to lie down the center of her back and never slowed her steps until she was right in front of him.
“Sam.”
“Lacy, we need to talk.”
“I already told you we have nothing to say to each other.”
She tried to brush past him, but he caught her arm in a firm grip and kept her at his side. Her gaze snapped to his hand and made her meaning clear. He didn’t care. If anything, he tightened his hold on her.
“Time to clear the air,” he said softly, mindful of the fact that there was a huge crowd ebbing and flowing around them.
“That’s funny coming from you,” she countered. “I don’t remember you wanting to talk two years ago. All I remember is seeing you walk away. Oh, yeah. And I remember divorce papers arriving two weeks later. You didn’t want to talk then. Why all of a sudden are you feeling chatty?”
He stared at her, a little stunned at her response. Not that it wasn’t justified; it was only that the Lacy he remembered never would have said any of it. She was always so controlled. So...soft.
After Hours with Her Ex Page 2
