Snow Job

by Tara Wyatt

  Kayla’s frown morphed into a full-on grimace. Fucking Sebastian. This had his fingerprints all over it. She took a breath and smoothed her features into a professional smile.

  “I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to someone right now and take care of that.”

  But before she’d made it even three steps, she felt a set of thick fingers close around her upper arm. She whirled and came face to face with Stammler, his face red.

  “Come with me. Now.” He started to pull her—actually pull her, like a parent leading a misbehaving child—and she jerked her arm free, glaring at him.

  “I’m happy to talk with you, but don’t ever touch me again.”

  At that, his face went even redder, but he kept his hands to himself, thankfully. Then he jerked his head toward the door that led out into the hallway, indicating for her to follow him. Anger and embarrassment swirling through her, she did, her cheeks on fire. Around her, people stared and murmured.

  Oh, look. Another Kayla fuck up.

  Given that she hated making mistakes—which was why she deliberately set out to never, ever make them—the idea that everyone thought all of these screw-ups were hers was infuriating. But what was she going to do? Tell them that these were pranks Sebastian was pulling? No one would believe her. Or worse, Stammler would just blame her for not keeping him away from the retreat.

  The door to the dining room fell closed behind her and Stammler turned to face her.

  “Explain. Now.”

  She forced herself to keep her chin up, meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what went wrong. I’m very sorry that people were given the wrong food, but I can assure you that I provided the resort with a comprehensive list of dietary restrictions and was assured they could accommodate everyone’s needs. I’ll follow up to find out what happened.”

  Stammler jammed his hands on his hips and blew out a noisy breath. “You know, when I promoted you into this position, I thought I was making the right decision. Prescott was such a fucking disaster that I thought things couldn’t be worse. But maybe it was better to have him AWOL than have someone with so much on her plate that she can’t keep everything straight.”

  “No! That’s not what’s happening.”

  “It’s not like you to make mistakes like this. I have to think it’s because you’ve simply taken on too much. You clearly can’t handle it, given how things have gone this week. I was willing to overlook the technical glitches with the itinerary and this morning’s presentation. But this…” He shook his head. “People have food allergies. Someone could’ve been hurt.”

  She swallowed, her throat dry, her pulse beating like a hummingbird in her chest. “I know. I don’t know what happened, but I’ll take care of it.”

  “Don’t bother. I’ll look after it.” He shook his head and she had to fight back the urge to curl her arms around her middle, wanting to shelter herself from the withering contempt in his glare. “You know, I’m starting to think promoting you was a mistake. You weren’t ready, and now look at what’s happening. I’m having to do your job for you.”

  “No, Mr. Stammler, with all due respect, it wasn’t a mistake. I can handle this job.”

  “Can you? I think we’ll have to talk about that when we get back to the office.” And with that, he turned and left, leaving her alone in the empty hallway.

  Her eyes started to burn as humiliation crested over her, and she stumbled blindly through the hallway, looking for a ladies’ room or a quiet corner in which to hide and lick her wounds. She came to a small alcove with a long, low bench, flanked by two softly glowing lamps and tall plants. Perfect. No one would look for her here. Not that anyone was looking for her anyway. Not unless they’d found another mistake to yell at her for.

  She opened her bag and pulled out a tissue, dabbing at her eyes, and as she did, some of her humiliation started to fade, replaced with white hot anger. The pranks were one thing, but this? This was too far. This was way over the line, even for an asshole like him. Heat flashed through her, his name beating through her brain like a drum. Sebastian. Sebastian. Fucking Sebastian.

  Fresh tears gathered in her eyes and she pressed her fist to her mouth, trying to stifle her sob. Her chest ached and her legs felt weak, her blood pounding in her ears. She’d never forgive him for this. She’d done nothing to him, despite what he seemed to think, and now here he was, set on ruining the life she’d worked so hard to build. She could feel herself starting to spiral. She was going to get fired, and then she’d have a hard time finding another job, and then she wouldn’t be able to cover her half of the rent and she’d have to move out of the city where it would be harder to find the kind of job she wanted and she’d have failed. And it would turn out that her biggest mistake was ever agreeing to work for Sebastian Prescott in the first place. She pressed her hand to her eyes, her shoulders shaking, tears slipping through her fingers.

  “Kayla?”

  Oh, fucking hell. The absolute last person she wanted to see right now. Of course.

  She swiped at her eyes and forced herself to look up. Sure enough, there stood Sebastian only a few feet away, looking ridiculously sexy in a gray Henley and jeans. She hadn’t heard his footsteps over her sniffling. She glared at him, knowing and not caring that she probably had mascara running down her cheeks and that her skin was all splotchy. She was not a pretty crier.

  “Come to gloat?” she shot at him.

  His eyebrows drew together and he tilted his head to the side. “No. I was coming to find you to apologize because I feel like an asshole.”

  She narrowed her eyes, squinting at him through her tears. “Probably because you are an asshole.”

  He sat down on the bench beside her without waiting to be invited. “Probably.”

  “Well, you can shove your apology up your ass because it’s too late. The damage is done.”

  He stared down at the floor, his hands clasped between his spread legs. “I’m really sorry, Kayla. I’ll go talk to Stammler. I’ll tell him it was me.”

  A fresh burst of anger flooded her and she turned to look at him, her arms crossed. “You know, the pranks were one thing, but messing with people’s food? You crossed a line. Someone could’ve been hurt or worse. That was low, even for you.”

  He looked up at her, his frown deepening. “Wait, what? I didn’t do anything to anyone’s food.”

  She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Right. Like I’m going to believe anything you say.”

  He laid a hand on his chest. “Kayla, I swear on my life that I didn’t do anything to anyone’s food. All I did was the itinerary and the cult video.”

  She looked down, not sure if she believed him or not. He sounded sincere, but she didn’t trust him. Not after the havoc he’d caused. And yet…she found that she wanted to at least hear him out. Why, she had no idea. Maybe she was just a sucker for a handsome face.

  Or maybe she was just a sucker for Sebastian.

  “I’m thinking of joining, by the way,” he said casually, leaning back and extending his legs out in front of him. “I’m not taking my chances waiting around for those alien garbage trucks.”

  Despite herself, despite everything, she bit her lip, trying to hold back a laugh.

  “You should join. Maybe they’ll put you on a rocket straight to the sun.”

  He glanced over at her, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Maybe they will.” He took a breath and then looked at her. “I really am sorry, Kayla. I know you probably don’t believe me, but I am. It was stupid. I was blaming you when I shouldn’t have been.”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling you, you jerk.”

  “I know. I don’t listen well.”

  “Among other things.”

  He nodded slowly. “Among other things.” He shifted a bit closer and his scent hit her, making her stomach explode in butterflies. Why did she have to respond to him this way? It wasn’t fair. He was able to turn her on simply by existing, even when she wanted to throttle him.

/>   “I felt bad about what happened, you know. I mean, I wasn’t sad to see you go, but I still felt bad. I just wanted help. And when I went to go talk to your boss, that was coming from Stammler. Not me.”

  He shifted his weight, turning to face her. “I know. I let you down. And then when I saw you again…I just wanted someone to blame and I got caught up in…in all this stupid shit. But I’ll talk to Stammler, okay? I’ll tell him that it was me.”

  “Do you swear you didn’t mess with the food?” She studied his face, looking for some kind of sign that he was telling the truth, because for whatever reason, she really, really wanted him to be telling the truth.

  He pressed a hand to his chest, drawing her attention to the way the fabric of his shirt clung to his muscled frame. “Swear. I wouldn’t do anything that would hurt anyone.”

  She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Then maybe some of this is on me. I thought I had it all handled, but…” She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Fresh tears pricked at her eyes, and then she sucked in a sharp gasp when she felt Sebastian’s warm fingers under her chin, tilting her face up.

  “Hey. Don’t do that to yourself. I worked with you for three years, Kayla, and I know how capable you are.”

  She sucked in a shuddery breath, her eyes holding his. They were the most gorgeous shade of deep blue. The kind of blue she wanted to dive into and get lost in. “Did you really come find me to apologize?”

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice dropping. “I did.” He moved a little closer. “And to do this.”

  And then his mouth was on hers, his lips firm but gentle, sending tingling heat dancing over her skin. Her heart fluttered in her chest as he kissed her slowly and deliberately, like he was tasting something meant to be savored. Like she was a dessert he’d been looking forward to for a long time. She made a soft sound in the back of her throat and he lifted his hand from her chin to her cheek, cupping her face. Her lips parted for him, and a thrill charged through her at the gruff sound he made, deepening the kiss. His short beard rasped against her skin as his tongue slid against hers, and she wove her fingers through his thick hair, pulling him closer. She clenched her thighs together, already wet and achy. Throbbing. Needing. Melting.

  His mouth moved slowly against hers, as though he had all time in the world. As though she wasn’t dissolving into a puddle of need, disappearing faster and faster with each sweep of his tongue against hers. His other hand curled around her waist, caressing her. God, he smelled so good. He tasted so good. With the solid, masculine warmth of his body so close, with his tongue caressing hers, it was easy to forget about everything—Stammler, the retreat, all the problems Sebastian had caused.

  That thought was like a bucket of cold water, and she broke the kiss, pulling back. “I…” She touched her tingling lips and shook her head. “I have to go. Dinner. Um. Yeah.”

  He let her go, his hand sliding off of her waist, and she didn’t dare look back because she didn’t trust herself not to throw herself at him. At this man who’d been nothing but chaos in her life.

  “Kayla,” he called, a bolt of satisfaction charging through her at the hint of sandpaper in his voice. She allowed herself a small glance over her shoulder and her heart vaulted into her throat at how devastatingly sexy he was, especially with his hair slightly mussed from her fingers. “Think about it.”

  She swallowed and turned back around, feeling the heated weight of his gaze on her as she moved back toward the dining room.

  Think about it. As if she wasn’t going to replay that kiss a hundred times and then a hundred times again. She stopped and looked over her shoulder again. He’d stood, his hands on his hips, stretching the fabric of his shirt across his broad chest.

  “I’ll give it the consideration it’s due,” she said with a small smile, blood rushing to her cheeks as she headed back to the dinner.

  9

  Sebastian watched Bodhi swoop through the half-pipe, catching huge air as he wowed the gathered crowd for their daily demonstration. Ever since the word spread that there was a free show every afternoon, the crowds had been getting bigger and bigger. So much so that he, Lane, and Bodhi had taken to doing multiple runs, all of them loving the chance to show off. Bookings for lessons were up, so Patrick was happy to let them do their thing.

  From his spot at the top of the half-pipe, he turned and scanned the crowd, squinting a little through the light smattering of snowflakes floating down from the grayish-white sky. The forecast was calling for a few inches later in the day, which meant tomorrow morning’s ride would be even better with the fresh powder coating the mountain.

  A flash of pink caught his eye and he squinted, the snow coming down in thicker, fluffier flakes now. His heart crashed violently against his ribs at the sight of Kayla on the other side of the hill, leaning against the railing, her eyes on him. He didn’t know if he should wave or ignore her or what, so he just nodded and then forced his attention back to Bodhi’s run.

  He hadn’t talked to her since she’d walked away after he’d kissed her last night, and he didn’t know where they stood. Fuck, he didn’t even know if that kiss had changed anything between them. What he did know was that it had changed him. With his mouth on hers, he’d felt clearer about what he wanted and what he needed than he had in months.

  He wanted Kayla. Wanted more of her sweetness and warmth, of her sarcasm and intelligence. He wanted to feel those curves under him, wanted to feel her nails raking down his back as he lost himself inside her. Wanted to hear her scream his name as he gave them what they both needed.

  He wanted to be the kind of man worthy of those things. Worthy of a beautiful, smart woman like Kayla in his bed, and more. More because this feeling eating him from the inside out wasn’t just lust. There was something else there, too. Something new and dangerous. He loved the way she challenged him, made him want to be more than the sum of his past mistakes. She made him want to earn her respect.

  The snow intensified, the flakes falling faster, swirling and sticking to everything they touched. Bodhi finished his run, earning a loud round of cheers from the gathered spectators, and he took several bows before flopping down on his back in the snow and making a snow angel, just like he did at the end of every run he thought had gone well. It was his little celebration. In the past, a long time ago, Sebastian had sometimes done a backflip at the end of the half-pipe.

  A dull ache throbbed in the middle of his chest. It was grief—for what he’d had and then lost, for the future denied him, for the joy he’d once found on the mountain that had disappeared from his life after his injury.

  He glanced in Kayla’s direction again, heat and adrenaline charging through him when he found her eyes still on him.

  Time to show off a little.

  He slid down the small slope leading to the halfpipe and then dropped in, gathering speed. The air whooshed by, but he couldn’t feel the chill for how hard his blood was pumping. He launched into his first trick, a frontside double cork 1260, landing it smoothly to big cheers. The screams only fueled him, and he geared up for his next trick, a repeat of what he’d just done, but he sped into it backside, making it more difficult. His chest felt light as he landed the trick easily, everything clicking into place as he let muscle memory take over. He soared back up into the air, grabbing the nose of his board for a frontside 1080, again, landing smoothly. He knew he had room for two more tricks, so he went for yet another 1260 and then finally ended with the Michalchuck, like always.

  His pulse raced as he soaked up the cheers of the crowd, unstrapping himself from his board and pushing his goggles up onto his helmet. He scanned the crowd again, smiling when he caught that same flash of pink at the railing. He accepted a fist bump from Bodhi, his eyes still on the figure in pink, visible even through the falling snow.

  I’m gonna ask her out.

  He didn’t know where the thought had come from, but now that it was in his brain, it took up all the available space there. He’d felt the way she�
�d responded to his kiss last night, her mouth parting for him easily. He’d heard her little gasps and sighs, seen her bright pink cheeks when she’d pulled away. When they’d worked together, there’d been chemistry. A spark of something. Now that he wasn’t actively trying to get her fired, maybe she’d be willing to give it a shot.

  He and Bodhi stood together at the bottom of the run, watching Lane soar through her routine, greeting her with fist bumps when she made it to the bottom. Man, this was fun. He was going to miss this come spring. When he’d be who the fuck knew where doing who the fuck knew what.

  Pushing away the uncertainty squeezing his lungs like a vise, he hopped onto the chair lift with Lane and Bodhi, gliding smoothly back up to the main area of the resort, his eyes flitting back and forth between his colleagues and the figure in pink still standing at the railing. Watching him on the chair lift. Warmth curled through him like smoke as he got closer and closer to her.

  Hell yeah, I’m gonna ask her out.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good about a risk. The last time he’d felt this energized over something healthy. And this was healthy, especially now that they’d cleared the air somewhat and no one was trying to get anyone fired anymore.

  With his board in hand, he stepped smoothly off the chair lift and crunched through the snow towards Kayla. She turned in his direction, her blond hair flowing out from beneath her white beanie, her cheeks pink with cold. Her lips parted in a smile as he approached, and he curled his fingers around his board, tension and excitement vibrating through him.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice coming out a little rough around the edges. He cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to her mouth as she bit her lip. God, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous just to ask a woman to have coffee with him.

  There was something about Kayla—there always had been—that made him feel young. Younger than he’d felt in a long time. He didn’t feel so old and broken and hopeless when she looked at him, heat glimmering in her eyes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He didn’t feel like such a colossal fucking mess with her mouth under his, her fingers in his hair holding him close.