by Opal Carew
Noah would be a hypocrite to say his father’s efforts had all been in vain, given the size of his trust fund and the fact that the money had bankrolled his first hotel. But he understood how his mother had felt like a widow even though her husband was very much alive. And had one day left him, taking his son with her.
But Noah’s story was merely a poor little rich boy one compared to Sylvia’s horrific circumstances.
Seth finally spoke, asking Sylvia, “What happened with this family? With you and Chloe?”
“She also tried keeping to herself as much as possible,” Sylvia told them. “She never said if she wanted to run away or take her own life—we didn’t talk about stuff like that. Just suffered in silence. Until one day when she found me in the bathtub.”
Seth sucked in a breath. “Christ.”
Noah could feel the angst radiating from him, even though Seth was on the other side of Sylvia, who’d become very still as she laid next to Noah.
“I’d stolen a box-cutter from shop class and brought it home,” she said. “I’d already made one incision in my wrist with the retractable blade when Chloe came in; we weren’t allowed to have locks on any of the doors. I was just sort of . . . processing the physical pain and watching the blood flow. I’d endured so much emotional pain that I was morbidly curious to know if the physical would override it.”
“Did it?” Seth asked.
“I was still in the experimental phase with no conclusion drawn when Chloe walked in on me.”
“Sylvia.” Noah glowered at her clinical approach to the subject—though he innately knew it was one of her defense mechanisms. The way she coped with all of this nastiness. This madness.
“Honestly,” she said, “I didn’t feel much of a difference. Until Chloe climbed into the tub with me. It was really very surreal. She studied the blood, and the cut, and just sort of contemplated it all. Like I did. Then she looked at me with those huge brown eyes of hers and told me I was giving up too soon. That I’d regret it in whatever afterlife Chloe believes in. And that it simply . . . didn’t do me justice. Taking the supposed ‘easy way out,’ that is.”
Noah felt a drop of water on his chest. Then another. His heart wrenched.
“I wasn’t the least bit sure what she was talking about,” Sylvia continued. “And Chloe never once appealed to me for her sake. She just wanted me to live. For better or for worse.” Sylvia sniffled, then said, “So I let her bandage up the wound since it wasn’t deep enough to require stitches and I promised her I wouldn’t do anything drastic again.”
“Thank God.” This from Seth.
“Not necessarily . . .” Sylvia groaned. “I sort of lied to her.” She whisked away some tears. “Two nights later, the foster brother snuck into our room. With a friend. The friend held me down and covered my mouth with his hand. While the foster brother did vile things to Chloe.”
“Fuck!” Seth suddenly exploded, bolting upright. “You have got to be kidding me!”
“I wish,” she said, her voice cracking. “There was nothing I could do. I tried to fight him off of me, tried to scream. All the while, I knew what was happening to Chloe . . . and I couldn’t save her. Not like she’d saved me.”
The tears streamed down Sylvia’s cheeks now.
Noah wanted very much to put his fist through something—and suspected Seth felt the same.
Instead, Noah’s hand slipped along her jaw and cupped the side of her face. “What happened?” he asked in what he’d hoped to be a controlled voice but which came out sounding like a tormented man about to rip someone’s throat out.
“I begged Chloe to say something the next day. She refused—and made me swear I’d keep it all a secret. So I did the only thing I could. I snuck into the boy’s room while he was sleeping, climbed on top of him with my knee to his groin, and pressed the tip of the box-cutter’s blade to his jugular. Until he woke up, scared half out of his mind. And started to bleed. I told him if he ever touched either one of us again, I’d kill him.”
Sylvia let out a raspy sigh.
“Of course I never could have followed through with that,” she said. “That I know of, anyway. But I played it tough . . . and he didn’t challenge me—maybe because he knew my father had murdered my mother, so I suspect he thought I was capable of backing up my threat. He never laid a hand on either one of us after that. I felt vindicated. But Chloe . . . That’s not something you can just get over because the assailant is now scared shitless. And apparently, it wasn’t the first time he’d done that to her.”
Rage tore through Noah with a violent tremor.
Sylvia splayed her hand over his pecs and stared at him imploringly. “Chloe and I need each other. And although she thinks she owes me, I feel it’s the direct opposite.”
His gut twisted even tighter. “I offered you both a job, Sylvia.”
“Yes. Because you picked up from the onset how important it is for me and Chloe to be together. I believe you would have extended a position to me if my résumé had crossed your desk. But you really dug deeper to better understand me. And the fact that you include Chloe in my life equation . . .” She shook her head. More tears fell on his chest. “That touches me in a way you’ll never fully know. Words can’t describe it, Noah.”
He held her a bit more fiercely. Until she wiggled out of his embrace and sat up to face Seth. He swept away the streams on her cheeks as she told him, “You comprehend everything that plagues me. You don’t press. You lightly push. Make suggestions. And I follow your lead because I trust you. Because there is something about you that I can’t put my finger on, but which calls to me. You have your own demons to slay. And you haven’t done it yet. But maybe someday soon.”
He kissed her.
Noah watched. Not feeling jealous, but instinctively knowing there was a reason Seth had wanted to explore a threesome with Sylvia Carter. Noah and Seth were best friends, brothers of sorts. And they did enjoy the sexual aspect of a ménage affair when it came about.
But this was much more than an affair.
Once again, he felt the emotional investment twined with this romantic entanglement. Set into motion that day in the coffee shop when Sylvia had confronted Noah—and Seth had encouraged Noah to make things right with her.
Because Seth had already known there’d be a special dynamic among them and it’d be worth wading through all the murky waters to get to it?
Noah wasn’t sure. Wasn’t really in the frame of mind to dissect it all, after Sylvia’s confession and the way her devastating past—and Chloe’s—left both Noah and Seth with a razor vibe. And feeling tormented for both women.
Noah needed more than pacing. He need a stiff drink. So he left Sylvia in Seth’s arms and went into the Jacuzzi suite to pour a brandy, in hopes of taking the edge off.
And because Sylvia was right: there was something weighing heavy on Seth’s mind. Noah had sensed it for some time now, but Seth hadn’t been the least bit forthcoming when it came to whatever had started eating away at him after his Olympic dream had been ripped from his hands.
Perhaps it was Sylvia who could help free Seth from his own torturous past.
Chapter Ten
Sylvia stayed in Seth’s arms for endless minutes. He suspected there was a part of her that urged her to go to Noah, knowing her secret and her tears had affected him the way they did Seth, bringing out a territorial side in them both.
But it seemed that curiosity clawed at her where Seth was concerned. She pulled slightly away from him, though she remained in his embrace.
She asked, “Why’d it take six years for you to return to the mountain? What made you decide to build an entire ski village?”
“I love this land, this resort,” he said.
“Then why stay away for so long?”
He told her, “I inherited all of this when my father died. On this very mountain.”
She gaped.
Seth let out a long breath as his past pain mingled with the sheer agony he felt
over Sylvia’s tragic childhood, taunting him in a harrowing way.
“There was an avalanche,” he explained. “My dad was a first responder. Another avalanche was triggered during the search and rescue, and he got trapped beneath the snow and ice.”
“Seth.” More tears filled her eyes. Making Seth’s insides coil. “I’m so sorry.”
When he’d mentioned exchanging personal anecdotes earlier, he hadn’t had all of this in mind. But he was glad Sylvia had opened up to him and Noah. He had a feeling it had taken her by surprise, yet she’d trusted them both with her demons. As Seth was now entrusting her with his.
He said, “It was pretty awful. We were very close. My mother was devastated, and she turned the entire operation over to a management team. Washed her hands of the place.” He shook his head. “She never did like it here. The snow, the cold, the mountain. She’d always said it’d be the death of my dad, because he was so devoted to it. Now she lives in Florida.”
“When did your father die?”
“Couple months after the Olympic games I skied in.”
Her gaze narrowed. “And it took you six years to come home?”
“I was here for the funeral. But then, yes, I left for quite some time.”
Her fingertips grazed his temple and she stared into his eyes as she asked, “Why? You love skiing and you must love this mountain. Otherwise you wouldn’t have invested so much in it recently. You would have left it as is. I’m sure it has generated impressive income, with or without the remodel.”
“Yes. And there are plenty of other investments to pad the family coffers.”
“So why’d you stay away so long?” she gently prompted once more.
Seth unraveled from her and raked a hand through his hair. Then he threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat there, his palms on his thighs, the covers twisted around him.
He said, “The last time my dad saw me, I was laid up in a hospital in Vancouver. I’d won a medal, but it was silver. Never got another chance to go for gold.”
“And what?” she asked in a quiet voice. “You think he was disappointed in you?”
“I was disappointed in me, Sylvia.”
Seth had been a hotshot playboy skier his whole life. Until he’d fucked up in the aerials. He’d set himself up for one hell of a dangerous maneuver that would have yielded tremendous results. He and his coaches had argued for weeks about whether he could pull it off under Olympic pressure—and harsh weather conditions.
Seth had almost been convinced not to take such a huge opportunity on an unprecedented jump, but silver in the giant slalom had left a bad taste in his mouth and he’d wanted bigger and better. He’d wanted gold.
So he’d gone for broke.
And had ended up broken.
He couldn’t say for certain whether it had been a risk worth taking. Even years later. On the one hand, if he hadn’t stretched for the glory he likely would have regretted it till his dying days. Always questioning if he should have shot the moon when he had the chance.
On the other hand . . . icy conditions had not worked in his favor.
Game. Over.
So Seth had spent ample time recovering and was so restless and tormented by the time he could walk again—and then there’d been the shock of his father’s death—that he’d gone off on tropical journey after tropical journey, not giving a single thought to returning to Bayfront or Bliss Mountain.
Then one morning when he was fishing off a chartered boat in Alaska, because the heat and the humidity in the Bahamas had started to rankle, he’d realized how much he’d missed the smell of the snow, the feel of the brittle wind on his cheek, the rush of the frigid air through his veins—and the excitement of the boards carving through fresh, knee-deep powder or whizzing down a groomed slalom course.
Literally, one day, he’d just realized his home was on the mountain.
So here he was.
He told Sylvia, “When I was in the hospital, all I could really think about was how close I’d come to proving I was more than just some billionaire trust-funder. I couldn’t pull that off, though. In my own mind, at least. So I disappeared for a while. My family wasn’t up on the mountain, so I didn’t give much thought to returning. And yet I guess there was always a gnawing sensation I couldn’t quite decipher. Until Noah started talking about building a hotel in Bayfront and settling down here, because he’d done a hell of a lot of bouncing around himself.”
“I didn’t know that about him.”
“He wanted his own legacy, aside from his dad’s. That’s why he builds hotels instead of managing global communications within his father’s company.”
“So, what? You realized you were homesick?”
“I missed everything about Bliss Mountain. This is my home. My legacy. And resuscitating it was the absolute right thing to do.”
“You just wish your dad was alive to see what an amazing job you’ve done with the resort. That you really did score gold—here.”
Seth’s chest pulled tight. He glanced at Sylvia over his shoulder and said, “Yeah. That’s exactly how I feel.”
It was all falling into place for Sylvia. The reason she’d had that one-night stand with Seth. The reason she’d been so moved by Noah’s business proposition. The reason she’d allowed both men a deep dive into her life—and Chloe’s.
Fate worked in mysterious ways. And sometimes divine intervention was necessary to get mere mortals on the right path. She, Seth, and Noah all had something to offer one another. It stretched far beyond sexual passion and carnal lust. It was something innate and unrelenting. Something rare and beautiful.
They needed one another on varying levels. Emotionally as much as physically. She couldn’t deny it—or the fact that all three of them had come to Bayfront and Bliss Mountain in hopes of calling it home. A permanent home.
But there was still something eating away at Sylvia. So she left Seth, scooped up Noah’s black dress shirt draped over the arm of the sofa, and slipped it on. She fastened one button at her midriff and went in search of him. Found him in the Jacuzzi suite, standing at the far windows, sipping from a snifter and staring out at the mountain, all lit up.
She caught his gaze in the reflection of the glass as she approached.
“I have a question for you,” she told him as she stood behind him and slid her arms around his waist. He’d only put on a pair of drawstring pants and was otherwise gloriously naked.
He took another drink and said, “Shoot.”
“Is it possible for two very protective, territorial men to accept that one woman is falling in love with both of them?”
Noah let out a half-snort. “If you would have asked me that a week ago, I would have said there are too many intricacies to the male ego—some of them even delicate—for it to work long term. Peacefully, that is.”
“And now?”
Noah’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’m inclined to believe anything is possible. If the three people involved want the relationship bad enough.”
“Right.”
She nibbled her lower lip a moment. Pressed her cheek to his shoulder blade and inhaled the rich, masculine scent of him.
In his deep, intimate tone, Noah asked, “Is it really the two men that are of concern? Or is it the woman falling in love that troubles you most?”
Her eyelids drifted closed. “I don’t know the first thing about being in love. Except that it probably brings on all these warm-fuzzy feelings and sparks all kind of hopes and desires in your heart and soul. Makes you want to know the good, the bad, and the ugly about the other person—or persons. Makes you feel tethered to them for better or for worse. Because with them is precisely where you want to be.”
“I’d say you actually do know a thing or two about being in love.”
Sylvia’s eyes opened and she peered at his reflection again. “So maybe the falling part’s not so difficult. It’s the rest of it that’s a bit terrifying. I don’t know how to be in a relationship with on
e man, Noah. Let alone two.”
He drained his glass, then said, “I’m going to call bullshit on you, honey. Because you’re doing a damn fine job of it.”
“Noah.” Tears stung her eyes. “I could fuck this all up because it scares me.”
He pried her hands at his abdomen loose with one hand and turned to face her. “Sylvia, consider how we arrived at this moment. And tell me honestly that you would do anything to make this work. And that you believe Seth and I would do the same.”
She stared at him, her heart pounding, her pulse racing. Moments of truth were petrifying things, making her throat nearly close up.
Noah continued. “You never in a million years would have told anyone else about you and Chloe. Would you?”
“No. I wouldn’t dream of it. That’s always been our private hell to live with; not even something I should have divulged without Chloe’s permission. Yet I innately feel you and Seth should know about us. Fully understand why it’s so important that she and I stick close to each other. Find a safe haven together.”
Noah nodded. “Just as much as you want to understand what makes us tick.”
“Yes. And you and Seth both shared some of that with me this evening. I know there’s more, but it was a really great start, don’t you think?”
He swallowed hard. “Can’t say your story was easy to digest. I’m as enraged for Chloe as I am for you. But . . . your past is a huge part of who you are, Sylvia. It still haunts you. So it’s something that the two men you’re falling in love with should know about so they can help you through.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. She confessed, “I might be well beyond the falling part. Do you mind?”
He chuckled. Swept her into his arms and held her tight. “Not in the least, honey. Not in the least.”
Chapter Eleven
Sylvia entered the spa early Monday morning after a weekend on the slopes with Seth and Noah during the day and making love with them at night. And though every single second with them felt right, she hadn’t yet made a full commitment to them. Because there was still a loose end that left her ill at ease.
