by R. C. Ryan
He’d told her about being raised by his grandma, who took over the ranch when her husband died in his early forties, about how she was a better shot than any of the men in the county, about how he hadn’t heard from his dad since his sixth birthday, and how his mom moved around the country in an old Airstream trailer, sometimes sending him postcards from wherever she happened to be living at the moment.
Kate had told Jaden things too. She’d told him about the time she’d done an undercover investigation on the recycling efforts at her middle school. It turned out they weren’t recycling at all. At the end of the day, everything from the recycling bin got dumped into the garbage, and she’d exposed their deception in the center spread of their extracurricular newspaper.
She’d told him about how, when she’d declared writing as her major in college, her parents, along with her brother and sister, had staged an intervention dinner where they took turns telling her all of the reasons she would fail to find a career. Then she’d told him how her family had been all too happy to reiterate those reasons, along with a hearty round of I told you so, when she couldn’t find a job.
Those were the real Kate Livingston stories. The ones that hid behind the happy smile. The ones that made her who she was. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shared them with anyone else.
By day three, breakfast had turned into one big flirt fest, with Jaden teasing her and touching her a lot, placing his hand on the small of her back or brushing her hair over her shoulder when she pretended to be offended by one of his jokes. Dinner had turned into rushing through the food part to get to the make-out portion of the evening, where they’d lie entwined on the couch, kissing with an intensity that seemed to grow stronger every day.
“God, how am I going to tell him?” It would ruin the alternate reality they’d created together. With him, she suspected, escaping from horrible memories about the accident and her finally allowed to simply be Kate. Not a screwup in her family’s eyes or an outdoorsy badass in her colleagues’ eyes. It had been strange at first, being herself, but she’d started to love the feeling.
Bella yawned with a squeak and curled up in the seat as if she figured they’d be there awhile. Oh, how Kate wished they could be, that she could put this off a little bit long—
The front door of the house opened, and Jay stepped out, looking like an enticing cross between a cowboy and a mountain man in his boots, jeans, and a threadbare gray T-shirt. Even from this distance, his smile summoned hers as he slowly walked to the car.
“Hi,” Kate called through the open window. It sounded more like a dreamy sigh than a greeting. Heart thudding in her throat, she scrambled to let Bella out before climbing out of the car herself.
“Didn’t realize you were already here.” Jaden knelt to pet Bella, who was whining and pawing at his legs like she hadn’t seen him for a month.
Kate tried to keep her smile intact. “Just pulled up a minute ago.” Now that was a lie.
“Perfect.” The man stood, and she couldn’t believe how different he looked than he had the first day she’d met him. His face had relaxed, and his lips loosened into a smile whenever he saw her. Even his posture seemed stronger, taller, and less reserved.
“I want to take you somewhere.” Jaden eased an arm around her waist and brushed a kiss along her temple. “I’ve got dinner packed,” he whispered in her ear.
Even with regret and guilt swelling through her, she couldn’t resist leaning into his touch, savoring it. Once he found out about her story assignment, he might never touch her again. “Maybe we should eat here. So we can talk.” She couldn’t tell him the truth in public. The setting for this conversation had to be perfect. They had to be alone.
“We can talk where I’m taking you.” Jaden released her and strode up the driveway. “It’s kind of a hike, so we’ll take the Jeep.” He punched in the garage code. Then he walked back to her and took her hand, guiding her to the passenger side and opening the door for her.
He did things like that all the time. Small gestures like moving aside to let her go first through a doorway or always leaving the last bite of dessert for her. In the evenings, he’d walk over and slip her sweatshirt on her shoulders when he could tell she’d gotten cold. Kate closed her eyes as Jaden let Bella into the backseat and then strode to the driver’s side and climbed in.
How was she going to do this? She’d rehearsed the words a hundred times. Before she’d pull up to his house every morning, she would say them again. But then he would greet her and kiss her and he was so happy that she didn’t want to ruin it. She didn’t want it to end.
“You okay?” he asked, backing the Jeep down the driveway.
“Fine,” she murmured, close to tears. “Just a little headache.” Heartache.
“Here.” He reached back into a small cooler and pulled out an ice-cold water bottle. “Water usually helps. It’s easy to get dehydrated at this altitude.”
“Thanks.” Her throat felt raw. She opened the water bottle and took a long sip. She had no idea where they were going, only that it was up. Up the street, then up past the resort, and then up higher still on some lonely dirt road that cut through the wide spaces between trees that Kate assumed were ski runs. Patches of snow still dotted the mountainside, but there was grass too—new and green. Luckily, they didn’t need to talk. With the Jeep so open on top, wind whistled between them, which meant Kate didn’t have to force the words that churned in her stomach. He wouldn’t have heard them anyway.
While the Jeep bumped along, Jaden brought his hand over to rest on her thigh. “Feeling better?”
Nodding, Kate closed her eyes and breathed in the cooling air. She loved the feel of his hand on her, warming her, reassuring her.
After one more switchback, he parked the Jeep, and she raised her head. They were above the trees. There was more snow up here, but she hardly cared about the temperature. The view to her right consumed her. It was endless. A blue-hazed vista of snowcapped peaks hovering above a watercolor of reddish cliffs and green, tree-studded mountainsides that came together in long, lush valleys. There were little round lakes so far off in the distance that they looked like puddles. “This is incredible,” she breathed.
“One of the reasons I loved boarding so much.” Jaden gave her thigh a squeeze and then got out of the Jeep. “That view never gets old.”
He let Bella out and started to rummage through things in the back of the Jeep before meeting her on the passenger side. “It’s colder up here,” he said, helping her put on a fleece jacket. It smelled like him—like male spice. The same scent that always filled her senses when they were kissing.
Taking her hand, Jaden led her a few steps away from the Jeep, where a large snowfield still smothered the grass. The view once again stretched out in front of them, a painting she wanted to jump into.
“This is the snowfield where I started out,” Jaden said. “My buddies and I would hike up here, out of bounds, and we’d board as long as we could. All the way through June some years.”
She threaded her fingers through his, holding on to his hand tighter. “You never got caught?”
“Nah. They didn’t keep a close eye on things around here during the summer months.” He couldn’t seem to look away from the snow. “Even as a kid, I loved it. Being out here made me feel so free.”
“I bet you miss it,” Kate said quietly. She could see it in the sad slump of his shoulders, hear it in the shaky tenor of his voice.
“I almost killed someone.” He paused and swallowed hard like the words had the power to strangle him. “A few months ago. At the Olympics.” Jaden faced her as though he wanted her to see the pain on his face. “I was trying to take the lead, and I lost control. Plowed right into my rival and took him out.”
Kate looked up into his eyes, and she couldn’t lie to him anymore. “I know.”
“You do?” He dropped her hand and stepped back. The sudden uncertainty in his glare cut off the rest of her words. She couldn’t
tell him about the article. Not yet. “I kind of put it together. Jay—J.J. You’re a snowboarder. You’ve been in an accident…” He had to realize that she would’ve heard about it. Everyone had heard about it.
“You never said anything.” His expression was guarded, the same way it had been when she’d met him on the street.
Kate eased closer to him, looking intently into his eyes so he would remember she wasn’t a threat. “You didn’t bring it up, so I figured you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“I haven’t.” The rigidity in his shoulders seemed to give way. “Not with anyone. The days after were so intense. With the media, and surgery to reset my arm.” He turned back to the snowfield with a blank stare. “Then they told me Kipp had a spinal cord injury. That he wouldn’t walk again. And I couldn’t function. I couldn’t sleep or eat. I had nightmares constantly. Everyone was saying I’d done it on purpose…”
“Of course you didn’t do it on purpose.” She turned him back to her. God, he was so tormented by it. She couldn’t stand seeing him that way, so lost. “Tragedies just happen sometimes. You didn’t cause it. You didn’t bring it on him or yourself.” She took his cheeks in her hands and guided his face to hers. “You are a good person, Jaden Alexander. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to be crucified in the media.” But she could change things. She could tell his side of the story. “You need to stop hiding and let people see who you really are. I can help. I can write—”
“First I need to get back on my board,” he interrupted, gazing at the snowfield again. “That’s why I brought you here. I can’t do it alone.”
Kate studied him. That was his total focus. Getting back on the board. And yes, he did need that. So talking about the article could wait. “How can I help?” she asked. “You want me to cheer you on? Take a video so you can remember this moment?”
“No.” For the first time, he looked amused. “I want you to board with me.”
“I’m sorry, what?” This time Kate was the one who backed away. “As in snowboard with you?” As in strap a piece of wood or whatever the hell it was made out of to her feet and go racing down a freezing cold snowfield?
Jaden’s smile answered the question. That was exactly what he wanted her to do. Which proved he was crazy. The man was nuttier than a five-pound fruitcake. “I can’t snowboard,” she informed him. “I don’t even have a snowboard.” So there.
“I grabbed one from the rental shop, along with some boots that I think should fit you fine.”
Damn his thoughtfulness. “I’ve never been snowboarding.” She eased a few more feet of distance between them. “This might come as a shock, but I’m actually not outdoorsy. At all.”
“I know.” He approached her, taking her forearms in his hands, and dear Lord his touch wrecked her.
“You do?” she almost whispered. Here she thought she’d played her part of the outdoorsy chick pretty damn well over the last week.
“I kind of put it together.” One corner of his delicious mouth lifted higher than the other. “That’s one reason you were so eager to help out with Bella, right? Because you didn’t want to go back out on the trail to finish your mysterious trek?”
“I hate camping,” she confessed. “I hate the bugs and the dirt and peeing in the woods. Oh, and I hate the stupid tents that suck at being waterproof.”
Jaden laughed. “I figured.” He pulled her close, locking his hands at the small of her back. “But I don’t think you’ll hate snowboarding.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” For him, she’d give it a try. She’d do pretty much anything to make him happy, to hear him laugh again. Even if it involved adrenaline.
* * *
“I don’t know about this.” Kate reached for Jaden’s arm and peered down at the snow that stretched out below them.
“I don’t know about this either,” he admitted. What had appeared to be a pristine, sparkling field of snow suddenly looked a lot more like an icy death trap. Now he knew what could happen. He knew he had no control out here. Life could change in seconds if he made one wrong move or caught an edge.
But he also knew that things could be restored, that there could be healing, if he found the courage to seek it out. Kate had reminded him of that. She’d proven there could be light at the end of his tunnel of despair, but you had to work for it. So here he was, slowing inching toward that light, sweating and sick to his stomach.
He’d purposely chosen this spot because it wasn’t as steep as some of the other areas he used to frequent, which meant it should be an easy place for Kate to learn. But he couldn’t seem to move his legs. Might as well be honest with her. “I’m not sure I can do this.” Stay standing. Glide over the snow the way he used to without a thought. Even just the feel of the frozen ground beneath him was enough to trigger the memories of kneeling at Kipp’s side, seeing him unresponsive…
Grunting in her cute, soft way, Kate inched her snowboard toward him until she was close enough to squeeze his hands. “You can. Let’s do it together.” A brave willingness came out in her smile, which meant he couldn’t wimp out now. He’d told her everything, and she still looked at him the same way. The ugliness of his story didn’t shock her, or overwhelm her, or even make her question his integrity. He’d never been given a greater gift.
“Okay.” Jaden locked his weak knees and then held her steady with an arm around her waist. It was awkward with both of them on their boards, inverted sideways on the mountain, but she would need his help.
“First, you want to find your balance.” He assumed the position so she could see—weight centered, knees soft.
She emulated his posture. “Like this?”
Taking her hips in his hands, he set her back slightly. “Perfect. How does it feel?”
“Awkward.” Her body wobbled. “I don’t like having my feet strapped into something.”
“You’ll get the feel for it.” And he would do his best to keep her upright. Maybe that would distract him from the sudden surge in his blood pressure. “Make sure to keep your center of gravity low, then put more weight onto your downhill leg.” He let go of her and showed her what he meant, sliding down only a foot so he could catch her or break her fall if he had to.
“Whoa…” Kate eased her weight onto the downhill leg, arms flailing. Somehow, she caught herself and balanced, inching the board down to where he stood.
“You’re a natural.” He couldn’t resist touching her, taking her hands and seeing the color rise to her face.
She looked up at him from under those long eyelashes. “I don’t know about that, but this isn’t as terrible as I thought it’d be.”
“It’s not as terrible as I thought it would be either.” She kept his mind off the fears. “I meant getting back on a board isn’t as terrible,” he clarified. “Not being here with you.” He eyed her mouth, trying to decide how hard it would be to kiss her when they were both standing on snowboards. “I like being here with you.”
She smiled softly at him, still holding on to his hands. “Thank you for letting me be here. For trusting me.” The last words wobbled out, full of emotion.
Screw keeping our balance. He leaned over and kissed her, securing one hand on her forearm to keep her upright and stroking her cheek with the other.
When he pulled back, Kate seemed to be breathing harder, though they hadn’t actually gone anywhere.
“So we have to go all the way down to the end?” She moved her gaze down the slope.
It was either that or ditch the boards and hike back to the top. “If you’re up for it.”
“I guess,” she muttered, but she also smiled.
“We’ll take it slow.” He released her and eased into the board again, sliding it slowly down the hill in a path she could follow.
Kate started out behind him, but her balance was off.
“Low center of gravity,” he called.
“I don’t know how!” She started to panic, body lurching, her arms flailing, the bo
ard going vertical. She picked up speed, coming straight for him.
Uh-oh…
Just before she plowed into him, he opened his arms, catching her against his chest. The momentum knocked them both backward, and Kate landed on top of him.
Bella barked and ran circles around them, as though she wanted in on the game.
Jaden grinned at Kate. “At least I broke your fall.”
“Oh my God, you should’ve seen your face.” She shook with laughter, which made him laugh too. It felt good to laugh. Felt good to be out here on the mountain, lying in the snow, feeling this woman against him. There was nothing quite like feeling Kate against him.
When they would lie on the couch after dinner in the evenings, their legs tangled as they kissed and touched and murmured about how enjoyable it all was, he felt normal and whole. Part of something again. The last time she’d pulled away and said she’d better get going, it almost killed him, but he hadn’t wanted to push her. He needed her to want him as much as he wanted her.
Did she? Did that growing hunger gnaw at her the way it did him?
He closed his arms around her. “Will you stay with me tonight? I don’t want you to leave.”
She propped her chin up on her fist. “That depends…how comfortable is your bed?” She was teasing him again. And damn he loved it.
“The bed is okay. But you should see the tub in the master bathroom.”
“Big enough for two?”
“I’d hope so. It takes up half the bathroom.” When he first saw it, he’d thought it was a ridiculous waste of space, but now he could see the benefits of having a huge tub.
“Perfect.” Kate moved her face closer to his, her eyes full of everything he needed in his life—humor and fun and depth too. She seemed to see so much in him. The good. What he thought had been lost.
“I’d love to stay,” she murmured. “I’ll need a good hot soak after this little adventure.”
