But she and her brothers had never had that. Not since they were small kids. Tess had been ten years old when her father threw her mother out and banished her from seeing the children on a regular basis. Not that Laura tried very hard to fight him on that. She’d taken her hefty settlement and left to travel the world. She’d remarried and divorced two more times, left a trail of spurned lovers in her wake . . . and now, showed very little interest in her grown children or young grandchildren.
Charles and Dane still maintained basic contact, calling their mother on holidays and her birthday. Tess and Pierce had given up on her, the same way she’d given up on the four of them. The resentment and hurt Tess had swallowed because of her mother had made her sick in her teenage years . . . until she’d gotten to a point of no return. At nineteen, Tess had an emergency appendectomy; if she hadn’t gotten to the hospital when she did, she would have died, and as it was she stayed in the hospital for an extra few days to fight off an ensuing infection. Her mother never even called, much less came to see her. Realizing, at last, how little she meant to her mother . . . something in Tess broke away then, never to rebound. Only one person on the planet really mattered to Laura: Laura.
“Are you there?” Laura asked tersely. “Tess?”
“I’m here.” Tess had zoned out, lost in her thoughts. “Sorry, what’d you say? I switched ears and didn’t hear you,” she lied.
“I asked why you’re staying in Aspen for so long. Got a hot ski instructor hidden away there or something?”
“No.” Tess cringed. She’d never be a man-eater like her mother. The very thought made her vaguely sick. “Just wanted a change of scene for a while.”
“For that long?” Laura paused, her tone changing. “Why? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, everything’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Tess asserted. Going to start playing the concerned mother now? It’s a little late for that. “So are you still in Saint-Tropez?”
“Yes, for the rest of this week. Then I’m going to Saint Bart’s for the rest of January.”
“Tough life you lead,” Tess quipped. “Well, enjoy.”
“Why don’t you come join me for a few days?” Laura asked. “Three whole weeks in paradise, plenty of room in the villa. We could have a mother-daughter getaway!”
A part of Tess’s heart leapt. Laura hadn’t invited her along on her travels in years. The little girl in her who’d always longed for her mother’s attention experienced a quick flash of happiness. But she hadn’t been a little girl in a long time, and her mother hadn’t been a regular part of her life for a long time either. Tess did what she’d done over and over since she was nineteen: shut her mother out. “Thanks for the offer,” Tess said, “but I’ve got some things lined up here. I’m staying put.”
“Seriously? I can understand going to ski in Aspen for a short trip, it’s a gorgeous place. But why the hell would you want to spend more than a few days in the cold during wintertime?” Laura asked with a mixture of confusion and irritation.
“Just call me snow bunny,” Tess wisecracked.
“Ugh. That is so not for me,” Laura said in a haughty tone. “Well, enjoy your freezing temperatures and snow. I’ll be hopping from beach to beach until May.”
“I expect nothing less,” Tess said flatly. “Well, I have to go feed Bubbles.”
“Oh, all right. Can’t believe you still have that dog. She must be old by now.”
“She’s only six.”
“I don’t know anything about dog years. Is that old or not?”
“No,” Tess said, not wanting to bother with the conversation any longer. “Thanks for calling. Glad to hear you’re fine. Take care, Mother.”
“Oh, you too, darling. Happy New Year! And listen . . .”
Tess braced herself.
“Go find yourself a nice, strong ski instructor to keep you busy while you’re in Aspen. Or a wealthy older man. Plenty of those around, I’m sure.” Laura sighed. “You’re not getting any younger, sweetie. Gotta get your first husband out of the way!”
Laura gave a shrill, dry laugh at her own joke. It grated on Tess’s last nerve. “Goodbye, Mother.”
“Bye, darling! Be good, but not too good.”
Tess ended the call and tossed her phone onto the far end of the couch with a grunt of disgust. Her mother’s words didn’t bother her; she’d learned to ignore them long ago. It was the general worry that crept in once in a while, like now. What if Tess didn’t know how to be a good mother? She’d had the worst role model possible. Her plan was basically to do the opposite of anything Laura had done . . . She hoped she’d be good enough.
All she knew was her own child would never know the heartbreak, anxiety, or disappointment of being abandoned by its mother. Growing up that way herself, she wouldn’t wish those feelings on anyone, and she’d certainly never perpetuate them.
* * *
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Annmarie smiled up at her son as he helped lower her onto the couch. “Dinner was delicious. The chicken was perfect, nice and juicy. You really can cook.”
“Well, I learned from the best,” Logan said, shooting her a little smile. “Glad you liked it.” For someone who claimed to like her meal, she hadn’t eaten much. He studied her as she made herself more comfortable, shifting to stretch out and lie down. Her skin looked drawn. She didn’t look like she was in the final stages or anything, but she didn’t look good either. He frowned, then felt his brows furrowing and schooled his features into neutrality. She wouldn’t want to see him frowning over her.
“I need to talk to you about something,” she said. Her gaze was direct.
“Uh-oh,” he joked, but uneasiness gripped his insides as he sat beside her.
“I’ve been thinking all week about this,” she began. “Given this a lot of thought. And . . . I’ve made a decision. I don’t want to do the radiation anymore.”
Logan’s heart dropped to his stomach. “What?”
“It’s not working, honey,” she said quietly. “All it’s doing is prolonging the inevitable. I’m tired. I’m tired of being so tired.”
He shook his head vehemently, a hint of bile rising in his throat. “I’m not hearing this. No. No way.”
“Logan—”
“Hell no. You can’t stop, Mom. Just no.”
“Why not?” She sat up and stared at him, a hard look on her face. “Logan. Honey. Look at me.”
He did, even as his heart thudded in his chest and blood pulsed in his head.
“We’ve fought hard,” she said quietly. “But I’m tired.” She reached out and put her hand on his knee. “Sweetheart . . .”
“I can’t have this conversation,” he said, dropping his head into his hands.
“We have to.”
“No, we don’t.” He looked at her again. “You keep fighting. You can’t give up. That’s it.” He shot to his feet.
“You’re not hearing me.” She sighed.
“I’m picking you up at noon on Friday to take you to radiation, and that’s all there is to it.” He scrubbed his hands over his beard and added, “We’ll talk to Dr. Cranston, discuss where we go from here, okay? See what he thinks. But giving up just isn’t an option.”
She looked up at him sadly. “I’ve never been a quitter and you know it. But sometimes . . . you need to know when to call it.”
“Really?” Suddenly angry, he started to pace the small living room. His lungs felt tight, and his blood raced through his body. “When I tanked my life—drank myself into a fucking stupor, lost my job, and my wife left me—what did you do? You flew down to New Orleans. Told me to get my ass in rehab. Paid for it, if I remember correctly.”
“Logan—”
“You told me to keep fighting. I’d made a wreck of everything, and you told me Carters are fighters.”
“This is different,” she said.
“Not much,” he said. “I was fighting for my life, and I didn�
�t even know it. You’re fighting for your life now.” He stood before her, stared down, and tried not to let his panic show through, only his determination. “You didn’t let me give up. I’m not letting you give up. End of story.”
She met his gaze, unblinking. “You didn’t realize you were killing yourself,” she said with quiet steel. “I know I’m dying, Logan. You know it too. Maybe I want to do it on my own terms, whatever of those I have left.”
That made him stop cold. Waves of emotions crashed through him, a mixture of fear, rage, hopelessness . . . “Fuck that,” he spat. “We’re not calling anything yet. You hear me?”
She sighed heavily. “We’ll let this go for tonight. I’m sorry you’re this upset.”
“What’d you think I’d be?” he cried. “How could I be anything else?”
“I haven’t seen you this emotional in a long time,” she admitted. “You do such a good job of swallowing things most of the time, being all stoic and sure. I forgot how fired up you can get.”
He raked his hands through his hair and looked around, a bit wild. His ears were ringing, like they used to when anxiety would sweep in and take over. He steeled himself against it. “I’m picking you up for your appointment on Friday, and you better be dressed and ready to go. Got that?”
“Yes sir, bossy.” She sighed and lay back down. “You want to watch some TV?”
“I want to shake you is what I wanna do,” he growled.
“Go for it.”
He huffed out a breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. His stomach churned and his blood still pulsed in his head, the start of a stress headache. But at least he didn’t want a drink. That was a relief. He rubbed his face and rolled his head around on his neck.
“Sit down, Thor,” she said. “You never did tell me about New Year’s Eve with that Tess. How’d it go?”
“I didn’t tell you because I don’t report my activities to you.” His grumble was good-natured as he sat down again in the armchair. He willfully ignored the traces of adrenaline still shooting through him, reached for the remote, and turned on the television.
“Throw me a bone here,” Annmarie needled with a grin. “Did you kiss her at midnight, at least?”
The memory of their steamy kisses flashed through Logan’s mind, sending a new rush through his veins. “Maybe.”
“Damn, I hope so. You’re cranky as hell lately. Need a good woman in your life.”
“Says you.”
“That’s right. Now gimme.” She held out her hand and he forked over the remote. “Are you going to go out with her again?”
He sighed. She was relentless. “Actually, we’re going skiing tomorrow. Up on Ajax.”
“Wellllll!” His mother’s smile was both pleased and a bit smug. “Must’ve been some kiss at midnight, then!”
“She’s just a friend, Mom,” he cautioned. “Don’t get all nutty.”
“I’ve always been nutty,” she said. “That ship sailed long ago, my sweet boy.”
He laughed and sat back as she searched through the channels for the show she liked. Glancing at her, he took deep breaths . . . flexing his fingers, open and shut . . . The crisis had been avoided, but only temporarily, and he knew it. His stomach churned for the rest of the night.
Chapter Nine
Tess had forgotten how exhilarating it was to fly down the side of a mountain at top speed. She hadn’t been skiing in too long, and as she pushed off yet again, the feel of the cold air rushing past her as she sailed along the slope was invigorating. As kids, her brothers were competitive with one another but doted on her, making sure she was a solid skier and could keep up with them. Some of her best childhood memories were skiing with them in Aspen, Vermont, Canada, and Switzerland. She still loved the rush of soaring across the snow, the closest thing to flying a human could experience. Few things compared.
And Logan was right beside her the whole time. He was a great skier, a natural athlete—definitely better than her. Of course, he did it more often. He told her flat out he’d all but grown up on the slopes and still went skiing two or three times a month in the winter. Knowing that, she was just glad she’d stayed upright most of the time after a two-year lapse. The one time she’d ended up on her ass, Logan had chuckled kindly and immediately shot out a hand to help her up.
The cloudy sky cut down on sun glare, but she’d still made sure to apply sunblock and lip balm before putting on her gator. Her goggles made it easy to steal glances at her gorgeous companion. Logan was sexy even hidden under the layers of his royal-blue shell jacket and the gray ski pants that hugged his powerful legs, a delicious bonus of inviting him along. Even the way his thick hair poked out of the bottom of his wool hat, fringing haphazardly past his strong jaw, appealed to her. In between runs they chatted about the ski trips of their childhoods; she told him about the annual trips with her father and brothers, and he told her about how his family went skiing all the time, right there in Colorado.
Time flew by on the mountain. The light of the sky changed, the late afternoon bringing hints of the darkness that would soon fall. “Okay, I’m wiped,” she told him. “Totally ready for some hot cocoa and to sit for a long time in front of the fire. Kind of starving too. How about you?”
“Same,” Logan said. They headed back toward the main lodge. “Aww, you know what would be the capper? All that and then a soak in a hot tub. Maybe I’ll pop by the gym after I drop you at your house and do that.”
The thought of him soaking naked in a hot tub was too hot for her to handle. “The tub in my master bathroom doubles as a Jacuzzi,” she said, “which you know, of course. When you bring me back, you’re welcome to stay for a while and use it before you go home.”
He shot her a sideways glance, a mixture of uncertainty and a spark of flirtation that made her knees wobble. “Really.”
“Yeah, really,” she said. “I’m starving, I need to eat something first, but why not? If you’d like to have some time in a tub, I have one. I’d be more than happy to let you.” And I wish I could watch, she thought, biting her lip.
His gaze smoldered as he considered it, making a few butterflies stir in her belly. Then, his voice low, he said, “I tell you what. You paid for the lift tickets and everything so far today. Let me buy you a late lunch, and I’ll feel better about taking you up on that offer. Which I just might.”
Her insides went hot and wavy with pure lust. She was shocked she’d made such a suggestion, and ten times more so that he was possibly saying yes. The thought of this towering man, exuding testosterone and rugged sex appeal, being naked in her tub just beyond her bedroom . . . it sent her heart rate up a notch. But she played it cool and said, “There are three restaurants in the lodge. Get me fed, and you have a deal.”
He grew quiet as they got to the ski check. They got their skis off and he grabbed the claim check before she could. But he smiled brightly at her as they approached the building, and held the door open for her as they headed into the side entrance of the magnificent lodge. Picturesque, all warm woods and glass, the Ajax Mountain Lodge was crammed with people also deciding to finish their skiing for the day. Christmas decorations were still everywhere, strings of white lights and bright red poinsettias added color and sparkle. Conversation and laughter echoed throughout, and off the high beams of the ceiling. Logan reached for her hand and led her through the crowd toward the elevator in the middle of the lobby.
“Tess!” a male voice rang out. “Tess Harrison, I’ll be damned.”
Logan saw how when she looked up, her features froze in shock for a few seconds. Total deer in the headlights, before she covered with cool disdain. Tess was friendly, always open and sociable; for her to react like that had Logan’s intuition blaring. Immediately on alert, he didn’t let go of her hand as a tall, dark-haired man in neon-green and black ski gear approached them, a curvy, Botoxed blonde woman in hot pink at his side.
Tess mumbled, “Great.”
“Right here if you need me,” Logan
quickly murmured, squeezing her fingers between his as the couple stopped before them.
“I can’t believe this,” the man said jovially, not bothering to hide the way he looked Tess up and down. “I mean, it’s not every day you run into your ex-fiancée. You look great, Tess.”
Ex-fiancée? Logan didn’t know anything about the guy, but the look on Tess’s face before she’d shuttered it was all he needed to know.
“Hello, Brady,” she said coolly. “You look . . . older.”
His grin hinted at a sneer. “Well, it’s been a few years, hasn’t it. Six or seven, right? Who keeps count.” He smiled down at the blonde, then back up to Tess as he said proudly, “This is my wife, Chynna.”
“Hello,” Chynna said, looking both bored and haughty.
“We have twin boys,” Brady went on. “Precious little things, but real handfuls, two years old. They’re upstairs with the nanny. We wanted some time to ourselves today, since we head back home tomorrow.”
“We’ve been here since the twenty-third,” Chynna said. “I’m so over all of this now. So ready to go home.”
Tess merely inclined her head, a hint of a nod.
Logan wanted to grind both of their faces into the carpet. The arrogant vibe off these people made him want to vomit.
“Brady Hillman,” he said, holding a hand out to Logan. “And you are . . . ?”
“Logan Carter.” He glanced at the man’s hand but didn’t shake it, leaving him hanging there awkwardly. Instead, he slid an arm around Tess’s waist to pull her close. “That’s funny, sweetheart,” he said as he looked down at her. “All this time together, and you never mentioned you were engaged before.”
Tess didn’t miss a beat. “Not worth mentioning, honey,” she said sweetly as she smiled back at him. “Besides, like he said, it was a long time ago.”
Chynna huffed, offended for her husband.
“How’s New York these days?” Brady asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Glad I left. So dirty, crowded, and noisy. Philadelphia’s a much more civilized city.”
Between You and Me Page 10
