Maybe This Christmas

by Sarah Morgan

  Brenna stooped and picked up a pinecone. “So let her do the same. If you’re caught in a strong current, you don’t try and swim against it. Let her ski in every spare moment, and perhaps if you don’t hold her back, she’ll be more willing to spend a little time on other things. Steer her gradually.”

  “That sounds reasonable.”

  “By the way, you ran off before Kayla could ask if you’d consider running a ski master class.”

  “Offering to help out with ski school was enough of a shock to my system for one day.” He checked the time on his phone. “What are you doing now? Are you busy?”

  “I was going back to my lodge, and you have family night.” The O’Neils tried to be together one night a month for a meal. It was something she both envied and admired. She had no idea how a family achieved that level of closeness. Hers certainly hadn’t.

  “You’re welcome to join us, you know that. I wish you would. I need moral support to face the sight of my two brothers slobbering over their women.”

  “They’re in love.”

  Tyler shuddered. “That’s why I need you there. We’re the only sane people left.”

  “Not tonight.” She pushed the pinecone into her pocket and started to walk again, her feet crunching on the thin layer of snow. If the forecasters were right, she’d be knee deep soon enough. “I have paperwork.” And she needed some space from Tyler to pull herself together.

  “Your life is so exciting. It must be hard to sleep at night.”

  She breathed in the scent of snow and forest. “I happen to like my life, although I prefer the outdoor part to the indoor part.”

  “Do you fancy a quick drink? I need to talk about sex.”

  “You—what?” She stumbled, and he shot out a hand and steadied her, his grip hard and strong.

  “Careful. I take it back. Maybe you are a little clumsy when you’re not concentrating.” He let go of her arm. “I realized I have no idea how to talk to Jess about sex, and I want to work out what I’m going to say before I have to say it. I don’t want to fumble like I did tonight over the other stuff.”

  Jess.

  He wanted to talk about Jess.

  Her knees felt as if she’d downed a bottle of vodka. “What other stuff?”

  “It doesn’t matter, but it got me thinking.”

  She was thinking, too, and she wished she wasn’t because those thoughts revolved around him naked. “Thinking about what?”

  “For a start, at what age are you supposed to talk to a kid about sex? What age were you when you talked to your mom?”

  I still don’t talk to my mom.

  “We didn’t talk about stuff like that.”

  “Never? So how did you—?”

  “I can’t remember!” Feeling as if she was being strangled, she unzipped her jacket. She and Tyler had talked about everything over the years, but never this. As far as she was concerned, he couldn’t have picked a more uncomfortable subject. “Other kids? Books?”

  “But other kids say all sorts of stuff that’s wrong. I don’t want to tell her more than she needs to know, but I have no idea how to find out what she already knows. This is what I mean about parenting being a nightmare. I need a book or something. I’d use the internet, but I’m afraid to type sex and teenagers into a search engine in case I’m arrested.”

  It was impossible not to laugh, but she was grateful for the dark and the biting cold of the winter air because she knew her face was burning. Emotions churned inside her; feelings she’d tried to ignore rose to the surface. She wished she were more like Élise, who viewed sex as a physical act as simple and straightforward as eating or drinking.

  Élise would have simply told Tyler how she felt, stripped him naked, had sex with him and then moved on as if all they’d done was enjoy a meal together.

  “Tyler, you don’t need a book. You know plenty about sex.” More than plenty, if rumor was to be believed. There had been times when she’d wished she could walk around wearing noise-reducing headphones to block out the gossip.

  “Doing it, yes, but not talking about it with teenagers. And to make it worse, she keeps finding all this stuff that’s been written about me, and most of it’s crap. I already have parental control on her laptop, but that’s not going to stop her reading all sorts of stuff that isn’t true.”

  Brenna thought about all the stuff she’d read about him and wondered which bits weren’t true.

  The night after he’d won a World Cup downhill in Lake Louise when it had been rumored he’d spent several hours in a hot tub with four members of the French women’s team? Or the night he supposedly skied semi-naked on part of the Hahnenkamm, one of the most notorious runs in Europe, with a whiskey bottle in his hand instead of a ski pole?

  Oblivious to her train of thought, he ran his hand over his jaw. “Any ideas? Can you remember being thirteen? What did you think about when you were that age?”

  Him. She’d thought about him. Tyler O’Neil had played a starring role in every dream and adolescent fantasy.

  “She probably already knows everything. They teach them pretty young at school.”

  “Yeah, but how much do they teach them? I want her to be fully informed, that’s all. I don’t want some guy with a libido on overdrive taking advantage of her.”

  “She’s not even fourteen, and all she thinks about is skiing. I don’t think you need to worry about that quite yet.”

  “I want to be ahead of the game.” He glanced up at the sky. “It’s snowing again. You’ll freeze standing here. Have a drink with me, and you can tell me what sounds right and what doesn’t.”

  She wasn’t freezing. She was boiling hot. She was pretty sure her face was scarlet. “You want to talk about sex?”

  “You were a teenage girl once. Help me out here, Bren.”

  Should she confess that sex wasn’t exactly her specialist subject? “You’re supposed to be at family night.”

  “All the more reason to have a drink. A meeting followed by an evening of O’Neil family togetherness is too much for any man.”

  He took it for granted, the closeness of his family, the fact that they were always there in the background supporting each other.

  He’d never known anything different.

  “If we go to the bar, you’ll be accosted by guests.”

  “Which is why we’re going to drink the beer from your fridge. I promise to replenish it tomorrow.”

  “My fridge?” Her heart bumped a little harder. “You want to come back to my lodge?”

  “Why not? You do have beer?” He slipped his arm around her shoulders, and she was conscious of the weight of his arm, of the power of his body as it brushed against hers.

  His touch was casual.

  The way she was feeling was anything but. It would have been safer for her pulse rate and her blood pressure if she pulled away, but that would have raised questions she didn’t want to answer, so she decided her cardiovascular system was going to have to take the hit.

  “Jess has talent,” she croaked. “You’re too busy to ski with her all the time, so I was thinking that maybe she should join the under-14 class. I’m focusing on mountain free-skiing, bumps, gate training, gate drills and free-ski skills. We’ll mix up the fun with the work. She might enjoy it, and it would be good for building confidence. What do you think?”

  “I think she’ll be bored out of her mind. That’s fine for most of the kids, but not Jess. She needs to be stretched.”

  “Are you saying my lessons are boring?”

  “No. You’re a gifted teacher, but Jess is different. She has something.”

  “She’s her father’s daughter.”

  Tyler gave a grim smile. “Which is probably why Janet kicked her out.”

  They’d reached the steps to her l
odge. A single light glowed in the window. “I agree she needs to be stretched, but if you’re going to make the most of that something, it’s important to get the basics right. To focus on style.”

  “Style is irrelevant. Speed is what’s important.”

  Brenna rolled her eyes and delved for her keys. It was an argument they’d had more times than she could count. “Good style comes before speed.”

  “Nothing comes before speed. You want to be the fastest, not the prettiest.” He tugged her hat down over her eyes. Then he stooped and scooped up a handful of snow from the steps and she backed away, her keys still in her hand.

  “Don’t you dare! Tyler O’Neil if you so much as—crap.” She ducked too late as snow hit her on the chest and exploded into her face. “I am soaking!”

  “You shouldn’t have unzipped your jacket.”

  “I hate you, you know that, don’t you?”

  “No, you don’t. You love me, really.” He was smiling as he scooped up more snow, but this time she was quicker, and the snow in her hand hit him full in the face.

  She did love him. That was the problem.

  She really loved him, but there was no way she was going to let him know that.

  She made the most of her temporary advantage and let herself into the lodge, reasoning that even Tyler wouldn’t dare throw snow indoors.

  The lodges were the pride of Snow Crystal. Set in the forest and overlooking the lake, each one felt private and intimate, but Forest was her favorite. “I’d forgotten what good aim you have. I have snow blindness.” Still laughing, Tyler wiped snow out of his eyes, tugged off his boots and coat and left them by the door.

  “You’re neat and tidy all of a sudden.”

  “I’m trying to set a good example. I’m working on being a responsible parent. It’s exhausting.” He sprawled on one of the sofas, his powerful frame dominating even this large, spacious room. The fabric of his jeans clung to hard, muscular thighs, a legacy of years of downhill skiing.

  Brenna pulled off her hat and hung up her coat. It was only when she noticed Tyler taking a leisurely look at her body that she realized her soaked, roll-neck sweater was clinging to her breasts.

  Alternatively freezing and then burning, she turned away, but it was impossible to ignore his presence or the fact they were alone.

  It felt strangely intimate. The lodge was at the far end of the lake, wrapped by the forest that showed itself as dark shapes through acres of glass.

  The only other property partially visible through the trees was his.

  If she knelt on her bed high on the sleeping shelf, she could just glimpse his bedroom.

  Trying not to think about his bedroom, she pulled open the fridge and took out two beers. She opened them both and handed him one.

  “I’ll be back in a second. Thanks to you, I need to change my sweater.”

  His gaze collided with hers briefly, and then she backed away and took refuge in the bedroom.

  When had he ever looked at her before?

  She pulled on a dry sweater, took a deep breath and rejoined him in the living room.

  “About that thing you were asking me—”

  “What thing?”

  She curled up in the chair opposite him. “Sex. Jess.”

  “Are you blushing?” His eyes narrowed on her face. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, do you know that?”

  “You’re never cute. You’re a pain in the ass the whole time.”

  “I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He winked at her. “Go on. How do I deal with it?”

  “Honestly? I think you should wait for her to bring it up. I would have died of embarrassment if my parents had tried to talk to me about sex.”

  “What if she doesn’t like to ask? What if she turns around in a few years and tells me she’s pregnant?”

  “I think you need to chill.” Brenna sipped her beer. “Make sure she knows she can talk to you about anything. Create an atmosphere where she is comfortable to say whatever she wants.”

  “Judging from the conversation earlier, I think we’ve already got that atmosphere. Can you believe she was actually trying to fix me up?”

  Brenna almost choked on her beer. “Who with?”

  Christy. It had to be Christy with the smooth blond hair. Or maybe pretty, bubbly Poppy, who worked closely with Élise in the restaurant.

  There was a brief pause. His eyes met hers and then slid away again. “No one in particular, but she thinks I should have a sex life.”

  Definitely Christy.

  She was always flirting with Tyler.

  Brenna wasn’t good at flirting. And anyway, how did you flirt with someone you’d known all your life? Tyler had seen her soaked to the skin and exhausted after a day in the mountains. He’d dragged her out of ditches and picked her up when she’d wiped out on her skis. He knew everything about her. They had no secrets. She could imagine his reaction if she’d fluttered her eyelashes or made a sexual comment. He’d either laugh or run for the hills.

  The reason they were able to be friends was because he didn’t think of her like that.

  Women came and went from his life, but their friendship was constant.

  And Brenna realized the reason the past year had been so blissful, the reason she’d been able to enjoy his company and his friendship, was because he’d been focusing on Jess. For once in his life he’d mastered his short attention span and put aside his urge to sample the charms of every female who crossed his path. The only woman who’d had his attention was his daughter. He’d put his own needs on hold.

  Knowing what he was like, how physical and sexual he was, Brenna had often wondered if he was seeing someone discreetly, but she’d never asked. Instead she’d made the most of her time with him and occasionally, when they’d been out on the mountain guiding or teaching, it had almost felt like being kids again.

  Their friendship was stronger than ever.

  Was that about to change?

  If Jess was actively encouraging him to date then no doubt it would.

  And Brenna knew it would take Tyler O’Neil less than thirty seconds in the company of a woman to resurrect his sex life.

  How was she going to feel about that?

  CHAPTER THREE

  TRYING TO DELETE the image of Brenna with her snow-soaked sweater plastered to her breasts from his memory, Tyler strolled up the snowy path to the main house.

  In no hurry to face the overwhelming reality of family night, he paused and breathed in the freezing air, watching the forest transform before his eyes. Snow layered on snow until all traces of green vanished and the trees were draped in a mantle of white. As a child it had been his favorite sight. He’d kneel in his bedroom window and watch the first of the flakes fall, hoping it would continue until the snow was up to his waist. The first winter snowfall had been the cause of great excitement in the O’Neil household.

  The mountains had been his playground; the adrenaline rush of downhill skiing his drug of choice.

  Now he greeted snow with mixed feelings.

  It was good for business, and he knew how badly Snow Crystal needed that.

  He was enjoying the silence when his phone rang.

  Irritated by the disturbance, he dragged it out of his pocket intending to switch the ringer off and then saw the name.

  Burying his emotions deep, he lifted the phone to his ear. “Chas? How’s it going?”

  He didn’t ask where his friend was. He didn’t have to. Chas was one of the finest ski techs in the racing world. The fact that Tyler was no longer racing meant that Chas was available for another member of the U.S. Ski Team, which meant right now he had to be in Val Gardena, Italy, on the World Cup circuit.

  If it hadn’t been for the accident, Tyler would have bee
n there, too.

  They would have been discussing strategy, the course, the snow conditions, in an effort to come up with the perfect plan. Chas’s job had been to use his skill and experience to make Tyler the fastest skier down the mountain. Over the years they’d shared beers, hotel rooms, victory and defeat. Chas had been more than just another member of the machine behind the ski team. He’d been Tyler’s wingman and close friend.

  Along with his brother Sean, Chas had been the first person he’d seen after his accident.

  Tyler tightened his hand on the phone and stared blindly at the trees and mountains.

  “How was today?”

  “Didn’t you watch?”

  “Things are busy around here.” He didn’t say that he hadn’t watched skiing since his accident. Instead he listened while Chas outlined the U.S. triumph in the giant slalom.

  “He clinched his fourth World Cup GS title.”

  “That’s great. Buy him a beer from me.”

  “Why don’t you come out? The team would love to see you.”

  And sit in the bar or the stands watching others do what he used to do himself?

  It would be like twisting a knife in a raw wound.

  The season stretched ahead. There would be a short break over Christmas before it all started again in Bormio, Italy, and then on to Wengen, Switzerland, and Kitzbuhel and the notorious Lauberhorn. Beaver Creek, Lake Louise, another day, another country, another mountain, another race. That had been his life.

  Until the race that had ended it all.

  “I’m not going to be able to make it. We’re busy here.”

  “Great! From what you told me, this time last year busy didn’t exist so I’m pleased to hear things are going well. Has Jackson tied you to the resort? What are you doing?”

  Coaching the high school ski team.

  Trying not to think about my old life.

  Tyler looked up at the sky. Snow was still falling steadily, big fat flakes that rested on his shoulders and dampened his hair.

  “I’m helping Brenna run the outdoor program.”

  “Right. Well, that sounds—” there was a pause “—that sounds great.”