by Sarah Morgan
“No, you’re fun after tequila.” Kayla picked up her coat. “I’m buying you a crate of the stuff for Christmas. I’ll walk you home.”
“Thanks to you home is a few steps down the trail, and I can do that by myself.” She dragged on her coat only to find her friends on either side of her, like bookends. “What?”
Élise slid her arm through Brenna’s. “We’re walking you to the door.”
“You’re holding on to me because you’ll fall otherwise.”
Kayla smiled. “That sounds about right. Come on, tequila girl, let’s get you home.”
They crunched through the snow, Kayla sliding and grumbling, while Brenna wondered why she’d ever thought a drink with her friends might solve the problem.
Her head spun, her limbs felt shaky and she was scrabbling in her bag for her key when Tyler opened the door.
He was wearing a blue sweater pushed up to the elbows and a pair of jeans that made it obvious why her mother thought him dangerous. No woman in her right mind would look at him and see anything other than trouble.
He looked from her to her friends. “What have you done to her?”
Brenna growled. “Nothing. This might come as a shock to certain people, but I make my own decisions about how I live my life. Good night, girls. Thanks for the lift home.” Disengaging herself from their grasp, she stepped forward while behind her, the girls melted tactfully away.
Keeping her eye on the lights of the hallway, she tried to walk past him but lost her balance and fell against his chest.
Strong hands closed around her shoulders, and she heard the breath hiss through his teeth. “Brenna, just—”
“There is not enough room in this doorway for two people.” She was wedged against him, and she could feel the pressure of his thighs through her coat.
“No.” He gritted his teeth. “There isn’t.”
“I think we might be stuck.” She leaned her head against his chest. “Oh, God, you smell good.” She felt his fingers tighten on her arms.
“Brenna—”
“If you are going to lecture me, don’t. I have had enough of being told what I should and shouldn’t do. I am done with other people knowing what’s good for me.”
“I’m glad to hear it, but why don’t you tell me all that inside so that we don’t both get frostbite.” He eased her inside and closed the door on the cold and the dark. “How much have you drunk?”
“Why? Are you going to lecture me on that, too?”
“No. But I’ve never heard you speak like this before.”
“You’re always telling me to be more assertive and speak my mind. This is what I look like when I speak my mind. I can drink what I like, I can work where I want to work, I can have sex with anyone I want to have sex with. I don’t need public approval.”
There was a brief silence.
A muscle flickered in his jaw, and then he released her.
“What you need,” he drawled, “is coffee. I’ll make some.” He strolled into the kitchen, and she watched, her eyes glued to those strong, athletic legs.
“Ty, do you like the women you have sex with?”
There was a crash as a mug splintered on the floor, followed by uncensored male cursing. “What? What did you say?”
“I asked if you like them.” She slid onto the chair and put her head in her hands, watching him. “Or is the only qualification needed to climb into your bed blond hair and big boobs?”
“What exactly did you drink tonight?”
“You have to answer my question before I answer yours. Hey—” she felt a rush of pride “—did you hear that? I was assertive. I stood my ground. I refused to roll over. Are you impressed?”
His jaw tightened. “The answer is yes, I have to like them. And there haven’t been anywhere near as many as—”
“Tequila.” She beamed at him. “I drank tequila. It was disgusting.”
He scooped up the broken pieces of china and made coffee. “Maybe you should stick to beer next time.”
“I’ll drink what I feel like drinking. So you like them, but don’t you ever want to see them again? I mean, you have sex and then that’s it?”
He put a mug of black coffee down in front of her. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Why not?”
“My sex life isn’t something we normally talk about.”
“I’m done with normal. Who decides what’s normal anyway? Let’s push the boundaries. I want to talk about your sex life.”
He sat down across from her. “If we’re pushing the boundaries, you can start by telling me why you’re going out with Josh.”
“Uh, no—” she shook her head and then wished she hadn’t because it made the dizziness worse “—first you have to answer my question.”
There was a brief silence. “I don’t want commitment, so yes, I try and pick women who feel the same way.”
“Do you ever get it wrong?”
“Sometimes.”
“Then they call you up and tell you they’re in love with you?”
“I try not to let things get that far.”
“So there hasn’t been a single woman you’ve liked enough to want to spend time with when she has her clothes on?”
He stared at her across the table. She kept waiting for him to look away, but he didn’t. The silence stretched on and on, but still he looked at her until her heart started to pound and her stomach felt squirmy. She was fairly sure what was going on in her body had nothing to do with the tequila.
“Ty? Are you going to answer?”
He stirred. “It’s your turn.”
“I can’t remember what you asked me.”
“Why are you dating Josh?”
“Isn’t it obvious? He’s hot. He’s also strong, steady and reliable. He should be perfect for me.”
“Should be?”
“Well, there is that tiny little drawback that I’m not in love with him, but most people don’t let that bother them so hey—” she took a mouthful of coffee “—I’m not going to let it bother me, either. Sex without emotion. I can do that.”
His jaw was firm. “No, you can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know you. You’ll hate yourself.”
“Maybe I won’t.”
“You need to cancel that date.”
“I have no intention of canceling that date.”
He stood up suddenly, and the chair scraped on the floor. “You can’t have sex with him, Bren.”
“Are you telling me what I can and can’t do?”
“I’m offering friendly advice.”
“You don’t look friendly. You look as if you want to kill someone.”
“I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“Funny—no one wants to see me hurt, but they’re the ones doing the hurting. If I want to have sex with Josh, then I will. And it will be my decision. But if you’re worried about Jess, don’t be. We can go back to his place.” She slid off the chair. “I’m glad we had this conversation. I feel I know you better. I’m going to bed now.”
“I’ll help you upstairs.”
“No need. I can manage.” She walked to the stairs and paused. “Do me a favor, Ty?”
“What?”
“Don’t take a shower tonight. I don’t want to think of you naked on the other side of the wall.”
* * *
SHE WOKE WHEN the alarm went off, feeling as if her head was trapped between two boulders. To make things worse she had a clear memory of everything that had happened the night before and all the things she’d said.
Oh, crap....
She didn’t want to remember what she’d said.
After glugging down water and swallowing painkill
ers, she showered and made it to the mountain in time for her first lesson. The sun was blinding, the rays cutting like a blade through her pounding skull as she struggled through the morning.
“So as you complete the turn you need to extend, release, then plant your pole—” She was in the middle of a private lesson when her radio crackled. The slightest noise was agony and she winced. “Excuse me for one minute, Alison.” It was Patrick, one of the newest instructors, asking where she was. “I’m at the top of Moody Moose.” With a throbbing headache. She was willing to bet she was moodier than any moose.
She held the radio as far away from her ear as possible and listened as he outlined the problem. For a moment she forgot about the pain crushing her brain. “What? What are you doing on Black Bear?” She turned away and lowered her voice so that she couldn’t be overheard. “It’s one of the toughest runs in the resort. Why would you take a bunch of six-year-olds up there? They’re babies!”
His voice crackled over the radio as he explained that one of the kids had gone the wrong way, and the others had followed. “They saw a blue sign and thought it was a blue run.”
Brenna didn’t waste time pointing out he should have had firmer control of them.
She glanced across the ridge, knowing it would take her less than five minutes to get to the top of the run where Patrick was trapped. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to help you.”
Thankfully, Alison was a confident skier and together they traversed to the top of Black Bear.
“I don’t see them, and I’ve never skied this run. It looks scary.” Alison peered doubtfully down the slope and then looked back over her shoulder.
“They’re out of sight.” Brenna adjusted her gloves. “The top of Black Bear is deceptively gentle, so I’m guessing they bombed off without waiting and by the time they hit the steep section, it was too late to turn back. We’re going to need to get them down the mountain somehow. I’m so sorry but I need to help Patrick, Alison.”
“Of course you do! We’ll reschedule. I’ll call the Outdoor Center.”
“Would you mind? I feel terrible, but I can’t leave him to deal with this by himself.”
“I’m here for another week, so it’s not a problem. I’m going to take a different route down. Do you want me to call the ski patrol or something?”
Brenna considered the options and shook her head. “We’ll take them down one at a time. It will take a while, but that can’t be helped.”
“What can’t be helped?” Tyler skied up behind her, his black ski suit hugging the muscular contours of his powerful frame.
If the Devil had ever decided to take up skiing he would have worn that suit, Brenna thought, noticing Alison’s expression change.
“You’re—oh, wow—I can’t believe I’ve met you. I mean, I knew you lived around here but—”
“We have babies stuck on Black Bear.” Trying not to think about all the things she’d said to him the night before, Brenna kept her eyes on the horizon.
“Is this a new policy? Challenge them young?”
“It’s not funny, Tyler.” Nothing seemed funny after tequila.
“Are they injured?”
“Not yet.”
“Such an optimist.” Calm, he bent and adjusted his ski boots. “So what’s the plan?”
“It’s too far to get them back up, so I’m going to have to ski down with them. And someone has to stay with the others, so I’ll have to do it one at a time. It will take three runs. The whole of my lesson time with Alison.”
“Hi, Alison.” Tyler gave her a smile that could have melted snow, and Alison smiled back.
“Hi. I think you’re amazing, by the way.” Her face was scarlet. “That downhill run in Beaver Creek was off the scale. You skied like you’d broken out of jail or something.”
Brenna gritted her teeth but Tyler didn’t seem to notice, and if the reference to his past successes bothered him, he didn’t show it. He was charming, charismatic and even gave Alison a couple of tips. By the time she skied away, she was wearing the biggest smile Brenna had ever seen.
“Aren’t you going to follow her?” She told herself that the snap in her voice was the result of her headache, not jealousy. “I think you could get lucky. She’s your type.”
He shifted his weight on his skis and gave her a long look. “I’m going to help you rescue these kids. How many?”
“Four. Two boys, two girls.” She felt small for having thought for a moment that he’d abandon them. Warmth spread through her. “Thanks.”
“Are you feeling well enough to help?”
“Why wouldn’t I be feeling well enough?”
“You don’t have a headache?”
“Not a trace of one.”
He gave a faint smile. “Right. So let’s do this.” He slid forward a short distance and without his body shadowing her, the sun blazed into her face. She didn’t think she’d made a sound, but she must have because he turned his head. “Keep your goggles on,” he advised, “that will help filter the sunlight.”
“I don’t have a problem with sunlight.”
“Honey, that was a grown-up girl’s drinking session, and you have a grown-up girl’s hangover.”
All warmth and good feeling faded. “I’d punch you, but I have children to rescue.”
She skied past him, but not before she’d seen that he was laughing.
He caught up with her easily. “Do you remember anything about last night?”
“All of it.”
“You were—”
“Shut up, Tyler.”
He gave her a look that set her nerve endings tingling. “So here’s the plan. You take one, Patrick can take one and I’ll take two.”
“What?”
“Kids. I’ll take one under each arm.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not? I thought you said they were babies?”
“Not literally babies.”
“Let’s take a look and see what we’ve got.” Tyler glided past her and out of sight, leaving her with no choice but to follow.
Patrick, who was in his first season as an instructor, had the four kids huddled at the side of the run. Two of them were crying, one was building a snowman and the other was clearly desperate to ski Black Bear because Patrick had his hand locked in the back of the boy’s jacket and was delivering a lecture on how important it was to listen, follow instructions and not ski off.
Brenna took one look at the determined expression on the boy’s face and glanced at Tyler. “He reminds me of you,” she muttered under her breath as she skied past him to join Patrick.
“I would have been at the bottom by now.” Tyler sat down in the snow next to the boy who was crying. “Hey, there. What’s up?”
The boy stared miserably at the vertical drop stretching below him. “T-too steep.”
“Yeah, it’s steep. Imagine how impressed the kids back home are going to be when you tell them you skied Black Bear.”
“Don’t want to ski it. I’ll fall—” he hiccuped “—or die.”
“You are not going to fall or die. That’s a promise.”
The boy looked unconvinced. “Yeah, I will.”
“No, you won’t,” Tyler said patiently, “because I’ll be holding you. You can’t fall unless I fall, and I’m not going to fall.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that. I always know when I’m going to fall, and it’s not today. What’s your name?”
“Richard.”
Tyler leaned toward the little girl who was shivering with cold. “And what’s your name?”
“Rosie.”
“Pleased to meet you, Richard and Rosie. I’m Tyler. I can get you down this mountain, but I can’t do it if you’re cryin
g because the noise messes with my concentration, and it’s making my friend’s headache worse. You need to do exactly what I say and if you do, you’ll get a medal.”
Richard looked interested. Sniffing, he scrubbed his hand over his nose. “A medal?”
“A medal. You can take it home and hang it on your door. I’ll even take a picture of you wearing it.” He leaned across and tugged up the zip on the little girl’s jacket. “You need to keep that zipped, then you’ll feel warmer. Are you ready?”
“Whatcha gonna do?”
“I’m going to carry you under my right arm.”
“What about my sister?”
“She’ll be under my left arm.” Tyler stood up and stuck his poles deep into the snow at the side of the run. Then he stooped, unclipped their skis and jabbed them into the snow by his poles. “I’ll come back and get those later.”
“Why can’t I keep my skis?”
“Because I don’t want you poking me with them while I’m skiing down.”
“I could carry them down,” Patrick offered, and Tyler’s gaze slid to the boy who had caused the situation.
“I don’t think so,” he drawled. “You’re going to need both hands to handle him.” He stooped and looked the boy in the eye. “You have to do everything Patrick tells you to do, exactly when he tells you to do it. Understood?”
The boy nodded, and Tyler stood still on his skis and let Patrick go first, presumably so that he would be in a position to intervene if necessary.
Brenna felt a lump in her throat.
Damn.
Just when she was totally mad at him, he did something like this.
He was a world-class skier; he griped at the thought of giving lessons to experienced skiers and yet here he was, a small child tucked under each arm and his eyes on the one trying to escape from Patrick. He could have been impatient or irritated, but instead he turned the whole thing into a fun game. He skied steadily, making the steep slope look like the easiest run in the resort. He was a man who could handle anything, and suddenly every emotion she felt seemed magnified.
Watching him, she felt as if her heart were being squeezed. The conversation with her mother had scraped her feelings so that she felt raw and exposed. Unprotected.
