Read Maybe This Christmas Online

Authors: Sarah Morgan

Maybe This Christmas (14 page)

BOOK: Maybe This Christmas
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“Obviously it
was
delicious,” Tyler said drily. “That was yours, right?”

Jess was giggling helplessly. “Bad boy. Bad Ash.”

Ash wagged his tail happily, and Tyler sighed.

“You’ve got some way to go learning how to discipline that dog. If you say ‘bad boy’ you don’t laugh at the same time.”

“He’s adorable, especially when he knows he’s been naughty. He has this cute, guilty look. It’s fine. Élise sent more than we’d need. I guess she knew we might mess it up.”

Tyler scowled at Ash. “You are out of control. And notice I’m not smiling when I say those words. And I don’t think you’re adorable. I think you’re a pain in the—”

“Language, Dad.” Jess tipped another steak into the pan, and Ash wagged his tail, his eyes fixed hopefully on her.

A delicious smell of cooking wafted through the kitchen, and this time when Jess turned the steak, she did it with exaggerated caution.

Ash whined and settled down on the floor, hoping for another culinary error in his favor. Luna, the better behaved of the two dogs, lay quietly under the table watching Jess.

Tyler shared salad between the plates and pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge. “Why have you never cooked for me before?”

“Because I’m still learning. Élise has been teaching me at Grandma’s. I wanted to surprise you.” Jess added steaks and a baked potato to the plates and put them on the table.

“It’s a surprise.” Tyler handed Brenna a beer. “A good one. Does this mean you’re also going to stop dropping your clothes around the house and do the laundry?”

Brenna twisted the cap off the beer. She’d been in this kitchen more times than she could count. So why did everything suddenly feel different? Her response wasn’t logical. “You shouldn’t have cooked for him, Jess. You’re reinforcing gender stereotypes.”

“I’m not. I’m making sure I eat well.” Jess sat down and picked up her knife and fork. “It’s his turn to cook tomorrow. Dad, you can’t put ketchup on that delicious steak. It will ruin the flavor.”

Ignoring her, Tyler added a huge dollop of ketchup to his plate. “If tomorrow is my night then we’re having takeout food.”

Jess glanced at Brenna. “What’s your favorite?”

“Mexican.” Tyler sliced into his steak. “Her favorite is Mexican.”

Jess gave him a long look. “You guys know everything about each other.”

“Not everything.” Brenna focused on her plate. The things she didn’t know about Tyler were the little things. Personal things.
Did he sleep naked?

“You can cook Mexican from scratch, Dad. All you need is beans, tortillas—I don’t know, but I bet it’s not that hard. I’ll text Élise and ask her, and then we can go shopping tomorrow.” Jess fed a slice of steak to Luna under the table. “Brenna will be impressed.”

“Or she might be poisoned. I’m not trying to impress Brenna. She’s known me forever so she’s past being impressed. This steak is good. For this, I’ll tidy the house, but you can do your own laundry. And stop feeding that dog under the table. So how’s your room, Bren? Great view of the forest?”

He knew more about her than anyone, and yet he didn’t know the most important thing of all. The way she felt about him. “It’s beautiful, thank you, and I love being able to see the lake.”

He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You can see the lake?”

“Yes. Jess put me in the room next to yours.” And she was wondering how she was going to sleep at night, knowing that all that separated them was a thin wall.

Tyler put his fork down slowly. “Next to mine?”

“Is that a problem?” Brenna tried to sound casual. “I can easily move if you’d rather I used a different room.”

His gaze locked on hers, blue and disturbingly intense. “No.” His voice was slightly thickened. “It’s a nice room.” His gaze flickered to Jess but she was absorbed in her food.

“Sorry,” she said brightly. “My mistake. I thought you said the front room. No point in moving now. It makes no difference, and Brenna liked the room. There’s more steak if anyone is still hungry.”

Hungry?

Brenna could barely force food down her throat.

She never would have thought being with Tyler could have felt this uncomfortable.

CHAPTER SEVEN

O
VER
IN
THE
main house that had been home to the O’Neils for four generations, Walter O’Neil settled himself at the scrubbed kitchen table and watched as Alice, his wife of sixty years, helped Elizabeth arrange cookie dough on large baking sheets.

“So Brenna has moved in with Tyler.”

“She needed somewhere to go.” Elizabeth removed two trays of cinnamon stars from the oven, replacing them with the next batch. “We’re so lucky Tyler has room.”

Walter grunted. “Last time I counted, you had five spare rooms.”

“I invited relatives from England.” Elizabeth transferred the cookies onto a cooling tray.

Walter glanced at the empty chairs around the table. “I don’t see any relatives from England.”

“I’m not sure what’s happening yet, but it didn’t seem fair to invite Brenna and then risk having to ask her to move. She needs somewhere permanent.”

“Permanent?” Walter’s gaze sharpened. His face was weathered and lined from a life spent outdoors, but he still had a full head of hair and looked at least a decade younger than his eighty years. “Exactly how long were you thinking she’d stay with Tyler?”

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth broke one of the cookies in half to check it. “At least until Christmas. Jess loves Christmas so much, and it will be good for Brenna to be part of that.”

“You’re throwing the two of them together, aren’t you?”

“I am doing no such thing.” Elizabeth nibbled a cookie. “But those two virtually grew up together, and Jess loves Brenna. It makes sense for her to move in with him.”

“I’m old, not stupid. You’re interfering.”

“You’re not old.” Alice reached across and patted his hand. “And I seem to remember you interfering plenty with Sean and Élise.”

“You’re imagining things.” But there was a gleam in Walter’s eyes. “All I did was point out what the rest of the world knew. Those two were both too stubborn to see what the rest of us saw.”

“It’s the same with Tyler. It’s obvious how Brenna feels about him.” Elizabeth picked up a bowl of icing, and Walter looked at her thoughtfully.

“But how does he feel about her? She’s not his usual type. Nothing like the others.”

“He wasn’t serious about the others. They were just part of that life he led. And I don’t remember fielding phone calls from any of those women when he was lying in the hospital with his career in ruins. Where were they then?” Elizabeth wiped her hands on her apron. “It was Brenna who sat by him. She was there night and day, and there was no getting her to leave. She was the one who coaxed him out of his bad temper when the rest of us were almost afraid to walk into that room. She’s been there for him through thick and thin.”

“And in all that time, nothing has ever happened. I remember the party in the summer. He didn’t even look at her. What they have is friendship, and it’s never going to be anything else.” Walter reached out to steal a cookie, and Alice rapped his knuckles.

“They’re for the Boathouse Café.”

“They won’t miss one, and I don’t want to give the guests what I haven’t tried myself.”

“You’ve eaten enough of those in your life, Walter O’Neil. Remember what the doctor said.”

“He said moderation.” He caught Alice’s eye. “One cookie is moderation, and I was shoveling snow all morning.”

“He cares about her.” Elizabeth dusted the cookies with icing sugar. “I sometimes think being here is slowly killing him, but he offered to coach the high school team because he knew she didn’t want to walk into that school again. He wouldn’t have done that for anyone else. It’s the most romantic thing I ever heard.”

Walter sighed. “That boy has been tearing after women since he hit puberty. I’ve never seen him show the slightest interest in Brenna that wasn’t to do with friendship.”

“He didn’t object when Kayla suggested she move in with him.”

“How could he? You were all squashing him like an ant under a log pile. Likely he’ll rebel, as he always does when you try and cage him.”

“No one is trying to cage him, Walter.”

“Maybe your plan will backfire. Maybe she’s not what he needs.”

“I think she’s exactly what he needs, and hopefully he’ll discover that himself.” Calm, Elizabeth poured the tea.

* * *

T
YLER
TOOK
THE
DOGS
outside and waited, his breath clouding the freezing air.

He wasn’t in any hurry to go back inside knowing that Brenna was curled up in his den. She and Jess had picked a movie, and between the two of them they’d sentenced him to an evening of romance and sugar he was unlikely to survive without the support of a bottle of whiskey.

The choice didn’t surprise him.

He already knew Brenna was romantic. It was a side of her that would have surprised some people given her tomboy ways, but not him.

She believed in love and happy ever after, which was another reason he’d stayed the hell away from anything more than friendship with her.

Unfortunately, that plan had become more complicated since Jess had put her in the room next to him.

He breathed deeply and tried to banish what could only be described as inappropriate thoughts.

Brenna had been in his house a million times, and not once had it felt awkward.

Until tonight.

Not for one moment did he think his daughter had made up the room next to his by accident. Nor did he think relatives from England were likely to show up anytime soon, but he hadn’t wanted to embarrass Brenna by telling his infuriating, interfering family what they could do with their plans, especially as she already seemed embarrassed enough.

How was he supposed to sleep knowing she was on the other side of the wall?

Did she sleep naked?

From what he’d seen, there wasn’t much room in that suitcase for clothes.

He heard the front door open, and Jess came out to join him.

“Brenna is making hot chocolates. She does the whole thing, with whipped cream and marshmallows.”

“We don’t have any marshmallows.”

“She had them left over in her cupboard and packed them in her case.”

Which left even less room for clothes.

“Great.” He unzipped his coat to let the air cool his skin. “So if I wasn’t already going to die of a sugar overdose watching that movie you’ve both picked, I will now.”

Jess stamped her feet to stay warm. “I like having another woman around the house. I hope she stays forever.”

“You need to stop what you’re doing, Jess.”

“What? What am I doing?”

He preferred straight talking and saw no reason to change that approach with his daughter. “You need to stop trying to fix me up with Brenna.”

“Are you suggesting—?” Her mouth fell open, and he enjoyed her exaggerated display of surprise and offense for a moment before shaking his head.

“My advice? Don’t join the drama club. You’re not convincing. Stick to the ski team.”

Her mouth closed. “I made a mistake with the rooms, that’s all.”

“Yeah, right. I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t put her in mine. Now stop meddling, or I’ll have to find somewhere else for Brenna to stay because it isn’t fair to her.” And it wasn’t fair to him, either. He’d gone from never allowing himself to think about sex and Brenna at the same time, to not being able to separate them.

Sweating under his jacket, Tyler hoped the movie they’d picked didn’t have any sex scenes.

“Dad, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Wrenched from a disturbing daydream that featured Brenna naked in the shower, he forced himself to pay attention.

“Even if it’s something we’ve never talked about before?”

Now she had all his attention.
Was this going to be the sex question?
After his conversation with Brenna, he’d made up his mind to buy a book on how to talk to teenagers about sex, but he hadn’t got around to it. He had no idea where to start. “You can ask me anything.” His voice came out as a croak, and he cleared his throat. “We made that deal when you came to live with me last winter. You’re still very young but we can talk about the details if you want to—”
please don’t let her want to


but the first thing to know is that it’s best if you’re in a relationship.”

“What is?” Jess stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

Why the hell hadn’t he bought that book? “All I’m saying is that it’s fine to talk about the mechanics, but it should mean something, that’s all.” He reasoned that as the expert on meaningless sex, that qualified him to talk about it.

“What should?”

“Sex.” His mouth was dry. “That is what you were asking me, isn’t it?”

“No! Dad, that’s gross.” She turned scarlet and kicked the snow with the toe of her boot. “I don’t want to talk to you about sex! Ugh—this is
so
awkward.”

“It isn’t awkward.”
It was up there with the most awkward moment of his life.
“You can ask me about that stuff. It’s important that you know the facts, not pick up a load of false information from your friends.”

“I don’t want to talk about sex! I know everything already, okay?”

“Everything?” Suddenly, he had a new worry. “How can you know everything? You’re thirteen years old.”

“Nearly fourteen, and we’re taught all that at school and—” she lifted her hands to her face and then shook her head “—never mind! That wasn’t what I wanted to ask you!”

Tyler felt as uncomfortable as she did. “Good. It doesn’t really matter anyway, because I’m not letting you out of the house until you’re forty.”

“Chill, Dad. I’m more interested in skiing than boys.”

That was good news, but not enough to make him chill.

He was going to order the damn book right away so next time the subject came up, he’d be able to tackle it without feeling as if his tongue were knotted in three places. “So what did you want to ask me? Don’t turn into one of those women who expects a man to play guessing games. If there’s something on your mind then come right out and say it.”

“I was going to ask if you missed it.”

“Sex?”

“No!” Jess gave a snort of laughter. “Dad, is sex
all
you think about?”

Yes, since you’ve put Brenna in the room next to me.
“Let’s start this conversation again,” he breathed. “Do I miss what?”

“Skiing,” Jess blurted the word out, and he frowned.

“Why would I miss it? I still ski.”

“But not competitively. You can’t race anymore since the accident—” she looked at him anxiously “—I wondered if it was hard, that’s all. I mean, you never watch skiing on TV. Ever. Do you hate that you can’t race anymore?”

“If I was racing, I wouldn’t be able to teach you. I love teaching you.”

“Seriously?” Her face brightened. “It doesn’t bore you?”

“No.” He realized that was the truth. “I get a real kick out of it. You’re good. And you’re going to get better.”

“Cool. I love skiing together.”

He looped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I love that, too.”

“And you love skiing with Brenna.”

He let his hand drop and gave her a look. “Unless you want snow stuffed down your jacket, you can stop that right now.”

“I was just saying.”

“Well, don’t say. And don’t think, either.”

* * *


Y
OU
GET
DOWN
SAFE
.” Brenna checked Jess’s helmet and zipped the top of her jacket against the biting wind. “It’s not the winning that counts, it’s the taking part.”

“Of course it’s the winning that counts.” Tyler stood relaxed and easy on his skis, oblivious to the attention he was getting from the other kids and their mothers. “Otherwise, what’s the point of risking your neck hurtling downhill at inhuman speeds? You might as well stay home.”

Brenna sighed. “All I’m saying is that it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t win.”

“And I’m saying it does matter. She’s going to win, and if she doesn’t, we’re going to work out why.” Tyler put his hands on Jess’s shoulders and turned her to face him. “Listen to me because I’m going to give you more advice since I’m getting so good at it. Forget everything except your skis and the way they feel on the hill. Trust yourself. Focus. You can beat the crap out of all of them.”

Jess grinned, delighted. “You’re not supposed to say crap. Major parent fail.”

Brenna didn’t know whether to laugh or bash her head against a tree. “And you can’t tell her she has to beat them. You’re supposed to be a coach. If you talk like that at Friday night sessions the high school will be swamped with complaints by parents.”

“Good. Then they’ll fire me, and I can go back to doing something interesting with my evenings. I’ve no patience with people who don’t want to hear the truth.”

“If they fire you, I’ll have to do it.”

“Fine.” He gritted his teeth. “I can give coachlike advice if I have to.” He turned back to Jess. “You need the apex of the turn to be at the gate. Watch the transition, and try to keep a constant rhythm.”

Jess bobbed her head up and down. “Are you going to be watching?”

“The whole time.”

“I’m going to make you proud, Dad.”

There was a pause and Tyler cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t be talking to us. You should be focusing. Don’t let anything or anyone distract you.” He stooped and checked her bindings, knocked snow off her skis and then nodded. “We need Chas.”

Jess tightened her boots. “He’s with the U.S. ski team.”

“The man clearly has his priorities wrong. But if he won’t come to you, you’ll have to go to him.”

“Dad, I’ll never make the U.S. ski team.”


Never
is a banned word in the O’Neil family. Now go out there and kick butt.”

Brenna stood listening, wondering if helping Jess made it worse for him.

She wanted to say something, but Tyler O’Neil wasn’t the sort to share his feelings and she didn’t want to be the one to make him do it.

Had he talked to anyone about it? His brothers? Probably not. The three brothers were close, but she doubted they ever sat down and exchanged thoughts on their feelings. They talked about skiing, about anything with an engine and, inevitably, the business.

BOOK: Maybe This Christmas
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