Maybe This Christmas (20 page)

“Jackson has a problem with one of the snowmobiles?” Brenna half whispered, half mouthed the words so she didn’t interrupt his conversation. “I could go and help.”

Was she looking for an excuse to escape?

He shook his head, even though he knew she was perfectly capable of fixing whatever was wrong. She knew her way around an engine as well as he did. “Do you see a black wire with a white stripe coming from the stator?” He shifted the phone so that he could talk and carry on stirring, not because he thought it would make any difference to the dinner, but because he couldn’t reach out and grab Brenna with a spoon in his hand. “It’s got a bullet-style connector and sometimes that gets knocked out—yeah, that’s right. Did you have the air box off? Well, then, that’s your problem. Without the wire attached, the sled won’t die when you kill it.”

He talked Jackson through the problem, and by the time he ended the call and put his phone down on the table, he was back in control. “I’ve made dinner. My advice? Order takeout.”

“It smells—interesting.” She stood up and walked across to the stove. “What is it?”

“Mexican. Or perhaps I should call it Mess-ican. It has beans and chili and some other stuff. Some of which burned. Blame Jackson. I was distracted. He called at the difficult part when I was frying.”

She rested her hips against the counter. “The difficult part? Do you ever listen to yourself?”

Right now he couldn’t hear a thing over his brain telling him to kiss her.

“I never listen to myself,” he muttered, “because I have crazy ideas.”

“Tyler, you rescued two kids and skied down a slope with one under each arm that ninety percent of the population wouldn’t attempt with both their hands free. And you call this—” she glanced at the food “—difficult?”

“I’d rather ski that slope blindfold than cook dinner.”

“It will be fine.”

“You haven’t tasted it yet.”

“You’re forgetting I’m not much of a cook, either. If the way to a guy’s heart is truly through his stomach, I’m doomed. Whatever you’ve made will be better than what I usually eat.”

Was she interested in Josh’s heart? Or other parts of him?

Tyler groped for his beer and took a big gulp. “So did you speak to Patrick about that incident with the kids?”

“Yes, but he was already freaked out enough without me laying it on. Thanks for helping out. I wanted to thank you yesterday, right after, but you dashed off and then we kept missing each other.”

He’d worked really hard on making sure they kept missing each other. “Anytime.”

“Listen—about the other night and the stuff I said—”

“Forget it.” He glanced up with relief as Jess walked into the room. “Hi, sweetheart. You’re late. Was the bus delayed?”

“Yes.” Without looking at him, Jess made straight for the fridge, and Tyler was about to make a flippant comment about uncommunicative teenagers when he noticed her shoes.

“What happened to you?”

“Nothing happened to me.”

For a moment he forgot about Brenna. “You’re soaked through. You fall in a ditch or something?”

“It’s slippery out there. I’m hoping tomorrow is another snow day.” She poured milk into a glass, her hand shaking so much she sloshed milk onto the floor. “I ripped my jacket. I’ll pay for a new one. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to pay. Since when do you buy your own clothes?”

“If I ruined something, Mom made me pay for it.” She drained the glass and topped it up. “She said if I paid for it, I’d learn to take care of my stuff better.”

Tyler stared at her. “Yeah, well, accidents happen, and I don’t expect you to pay for it. But I’d like to know how it got torn.” Something about the way she held herself, the way she wasn’t looking at him, told him there was more going on than she was telling him. “Did you—”

“Dad! Stop asking questions. I’m clumsy, that’s all.” Moody, scowling, she slammed the fridge door shut and then wrinkled her nose. “What’s that
terrible
smell?”

“That terrible smell is what happens when you leave me to cook.” Deciding that handling a teenage girl needed the skills of a bomb-disposal expert, he backed off. “It’s ready whenever you’re hungry.”

“I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.” Jess walked across the kitchen and peered cautiously into the pan. “Have you tasted it?”

“Why would I want to do that? I made it. The rest is up to you.” He threw the spoon down, strolled to the table and sprawled in a chair. He was about to put his feet on the table when he caught Jess’s eye.

“You sit down, too, Brenna.” She urged Brenna to the table. “Not this side because I’m going to be cooking and rushing around. Go around and sit next to Dad. I’ll finish off dinner.”

He didn’t want Brenna sitting next to him.

He didn’t want her anywhere near him, but apparently Brenna failed to notice that piece of blatant teenage manipulation because she did as Jess suggested.

“So how was school, Jess?”

Tyler wondered if she’d have more success than he had, but it seemed Jess wasn’t eager to share details of her day with anyone.

“There was no skiing. Enough said.” Jess stuck a spoon in the pot, tasted it cautiously and coughed until her eyes watered. “Dad! How much chili did you put in this?”

“I lost count. Blame your uncle Jackson. He was talking to me.”

“It’s not a good idea to lose count with chili.” Jess guzzled water as if she’d been lost in the desert for a month while Luna nudged her leg hopefully. “You don’t want this, trust me. It would blow your doggie brain.” She rummaged in the cupboards, pulled out more tomatoes and puree and proceeded to add and adjust, tasting all the time.

“She ate your food, Ty, and she’s still alive.” Brenna reached across the table for the juice she’d poured. “It’s a miracle.”

The miracle was that he was managing to keep his hands to himself.

From this position he had a view straight down her top, and his gaze welded itself to the shallow dip between her smooth breasts. He saw creamy skin, a hint of lace and then lost focus.

He didn’t breathe, didn’t move, and when she sat down he sucked in air, feeling as if he’d been smacked in the gut by a heavy object.

Thanks to Jess, she was sitting so close he could see the flecks of green in her eyes and the freckles dusting her nose. He could smell that elusive scent that made him think of the long, slow days of summer.

And he could think of nothing but sex.

Why?

What the hell was wrong with him? Was it the memory of the things she’d said under the influence of tequila, or was it simply that he was jealous of Josh?

He pushed his chair back, an involuntary movement designed to put distance between them. Keeping his eyes away from her shoulders and the smooth skin of her arms, he groped for his beer.

Across from them, Jess served the chili into bowls. “I’ve done my best, but it’s probably still going to make you sweat.”

He couldn’t sweat any more than he was already.

It was having Brenna living here. Under his nose. Walking around in bare feet wearing nothing but a strappy top and clingy yoga pants.

And talking about sex.

He dug his fork into the chili, surprised by how good it tasted. “You’re a genius, Jess.”

The moody, sullen expression vanished and was replaced by a smile. “You made it. All I did was adjust it a little bit.” She glanced at him and grinned. “Okay, I adjusted it a lot.”

Somehow they made it through dinner, although he had no idea what they talked about.

Brenna had the sense not to mention school again and instead turned the conversation to skiing.

Still, Tyler could think of nothing but sex.

He ate quickly, decided against a second helping and swept his empty plate off the table. “Excuse me, ladies, I need to go take a cold shower.” He stood up, banging against the table in his attempt not to look at Brenna.

“Now?” Judging from the look Jess gave him, he might as well have announced that he was taking up ballet.

“Yes, now. Cooking is sweaty work.”

“Brenna and I are going to watch skiing. Will you join us?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, not tonight.” Even the rush of guilt wasn’t enough to make him give a different answer. “I have to help Uncle Jackson with that snowmobile.”

Jess cleared the bowls. “
After
your shower?”

He opened his mouth but was unable to think of a single, logical explanation, mostly because there wasn’t one. Logic had left the room along with self-restraint. “Last time I checked, a man was allowed to decide when to take a shower in his own house. Thanks for rescuing dinner. I’ll see you later.”

In the end, he abandoned the cold shower in favor of leaving the house as fast as possible. He grabbed his jacket, whistled to Ash and stepped out into the cold.

He walked along snow-covered trails toward the barn where they kept the snowmobiles and the rest of the outdoor equipment.

Jackson was lying on his back, fiddling with the snowmobile and using words that would have made his grandmother frown. Words that grew worse when Ash bounded over and landed on him.

“I thought you were training that stupid dog.”

“It’s a work in progress.” Tyler strolled around the snowmobile. “So far there’s not been much progress.”

“You’re not kidding.” But he ruffled Ash’s fur before he pushed him off. “So how was dinner?”

“I was cooking it, which should give you a clue. Fortunately, Jess came and rescued the food.”

“That explains why you’re alive. So if you’re not here to tell me you’ve poisoned yourself and only have an hour to live, what are you doing here?” Jackson tested the snowmobile. “This machine is dead. I changed the plugs, but they’re full of fuel when I take them out.”

“Well, at least you know you’re getting fuel, so that’s not the problem. Sounds like the inlet needles are sticking to the carbs.” Tyler pulled off his gloves and crouched down next to his brother.

For the next hour they worked together on the snowmobile, and then Kayla walked in holding two mugs of coffee. Maple, their miniature poodle, was at her feet.

“I thought you might—oh, hi, Tyler! I didn’t know you were here.”

Ash spotted Maple and bounded toward him.

“Sit!” Tyler bellowed, and Ash screeched to a halt, hesitated and then sprang again, but the brief delay had given Kayla a chance to put the mugs on the floor and scoop up Maple.

“Get that animal under control!”

“Believe it or not that is the under-control version.” Tyler stood up and pushed Ash’s rump to the floor. “
Sit
means your butt engages with the floor.”

Ash wagged his tail, his gaze fixed on Maple.

“The dog wants to play.” Jackson stood up and wiped his hands on a rag. “He’s not going to hurt her.”

“Maybe not intentionally, but Ash playing is enough to end Maple!” Kayla held the little dog close but Maple wriggled. “Do you have a death wish or something? I brought you coffee but most of it is on the floor now.”

“So I see.” Jackson leaned forward and kissed her slowly, taking his time.

Ash whined.

“Cover your eyes, buddy,” Tyler muttered, “this is only the beginning.”

Kayla eased away from Jackson. “How are you finding living with Brenna?”

Difficult.

And she was the one who had put him in this position.

Knowing that, he gave her the answer he knew she wouldn’t want. “We’ve barely seen each other.”

Predictably, Kayla’s face fell. “Really?”

“We’ve been out doing our own thing. I was a bit worried she might be lonely so it’s good to know she’s seeing Josh.”

“Seeing Josh?” Kayla’s appalled expression made it clear she didn’t know. “Since when has she been seeing Josh?”

“How would I know? Her love life is her own business.” He gave her a pointed look, and she had the grace to blush.

“Tyler—”

“The two of them have been friends a long time. Josh is a good man. I’m happy for her.” He wasn’t happy at all. And he wanted to savage Josh. “This thing is fixed so I should be getting back.”

He picked up his gloves, whistled to Ash and left Kayla to stew.

CHAPTER TEN

“
W
ATCH
IT
AGAIN
.”
Curled up on the sofa next to Jess, Brenna pressed the remote. “Look at the timing of the pole plant. Do you see?” She played it again and then again, talking Jess through it, showing her how small changes could make a big difference to her technique and speed.

“Play one of Dad’s winning downhill runs.”

Brenna tried to think of an excuse. The last thing she wanted to do was watch Tyler in slow motion, but she couldn’t think of a reason that wouldn’t draw attention so she dutifully stood up. “Do you know where he keeps those DVDs?”

“They’re stuffed into the back of the cupboard on your right.”

Brenna tugged open the cupboard.

Five crystal globes sat on a shelf crammed between books, a few games and various DVDs. She picked one of them up reverentially. “This is where he keeps them?” It was obvious they’d been pushed there, rather than displayed, and yet they represented excellence in his sport.

“I warned you he was messed up about the whole thing. Most people would keep a World Cup trophy out where everyone can see it, not Dad. He hides them away. I guess he doesn’t want to look at them. Never talks about it, either, even though it gives him serious bragging rights.”

Brenna smoothed her hand over the surface of the coveted globe. Winning one would be a dream for most skiers. Tyler had five, two for winning the overall World Cup title, three of them for individual disciplines, in his case, the downhill. “For me, this means more than the Olympics. To win this you have to ski at a high standard consistently and across disciplines.”

“Makes it all the more sad that he hides them away in the dark.”

Brenna reached up and put one of the trophies on the shelf on display. “It looks nice here.”

Jess shrank. “Oh, no—you can’t do that.”

“I’m doing it.”

“Then
you
are the one taking responsibility for it, not me.”

“I’ll take responsibility. We’ll start with one and see how it goes.”

“Great idea. If you’re still alive in the morning, you can put the second one out.”

“He might not even notice. And here’s the DVD you wanted to see.” She pushed it into the slot and curled up on the sofa again, resigned to watching Tyler ski.

He gave an electrifying performance, hurtling full-tilt down the mountain, attacking the slope as if he was skiing for his life. It was one of the many reasons he drew crowds, thrilled by the excitement of watching him. He was a supreme athlete, breathtakingly gifted, which made the accident that had ended his career all the more brutal.

The fact that those five crystal globes were jammed into a cupboard behind a load of detritus confirmed exactly how much he was struggling with the loss.

This was the second winter he’d missed, but last year the O’Neil family had been so focused on saving Snow Crystal and learning how to move on after Michael’s death, that there had been no time to dwell on Tyler’s situation. And Tyler had found himself with a teenage daughter living with him, a change in his circumstances that must have had more impact than the possibility of losing the family home and business. This year was different. Snow Crystal was finally beginning to show signs of sustained recovery. Jess and Tyler were used to living together. He had more time to think about what he’d lost.

Should she talk to him? Give him a chance to confide in her?

Their relationship had changed, and she wasn’t sure of the rules anymore.

She pressed the pause button. “Look at that. Right there. Everything is perfect. The angle of his skis, the weight—” She gave Jess something to focus on, rewound and played it again while she ran through the options in her head.

She could talk to him, but things had felt awkward between them since the day she’d moved into Lake House. Living under the same roof as him had somehow intensified everything, as if someone had shone a spotlight on her feelings.

And she knew he was finding it awkward, too.

He’d started avoiding her.

“You’ve had it on pause for about five minutes.” Jess took the remote from her hand. “What are you looking at?”

Him. She was looking at him. At the determination in that jaw. At the ski suit molded to every contour of his hard, powerful body.

“Look at his position,” she croaked, “look at the balance, look at the line he took and how close he is to the gate.” Look at those shoulders, those thighs, the look of fierce concentration on that insanely handsome face.

And look at me make a complete fool of myself.

“I’ll never be that good.” Jess stared gloomily at the screen, and Brenna took the remote back from her.

“You could be. You have talent. All you need is practice.”

“How can I practice when I’m stuck in miserable boring school all day?” There was despair in her voice, and Brenna remembered feeling the same way when she was Jess’s age.

“Do you hate it?”

Jess slumped and nibbled the edge of a nail. “Every minute.”

Brenna thought about the exchange earlier. The filthy shoes. The torn coat. “The lessons or the kids?”

“The lessons.” Jess drew her knees up under her chin and stared at the image of her father frozen on the screen. “And the kids. They’re totally lame.”

Brenna sat still. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jess gave a careless shrug that was supposed to indicate indifference but revealed how bad she was feeling. “Nothing to talk about. All the girls care about is their stupid hair and stupid boys. We have nothing in common.”

“Are they giving you a hard time?”

“No more than usual.”

Thinking about what
usual
had been for her, Brenna’s insides knotted. “When did it start?”

Jess studied her nails. “Pretty much my first day at that school. It’s never good being the new girl in town.”

“But you’re joining in. You were picked for the ski team!” The moment she said it, she wondered how she could have been so blind and stupid. “Oh.”

Jess gave a short laugh. “Yeah, that’s right. I’ve heard it all. How I was only picked because of my dad, how I’m crap, how I have no talent.”

Brenna’s stomach lurched. “Jess—”

“It’s partly my fault because when I started at the school, I talked about him to anyone who would listen. I guess they wanted to make sure I knew my place—” She attacked another nail even though there wasn’t much of anything left to attack. “Do you think that’s why I got on the ski team? Because of Dad? Be honest.”

“No. You’re a gifted skier, Jess. You need more time on the mountain, that’s true, but you have something that most people will never have even if they spend every minute of their lives practicing.”

“So I’ll keep telling myself they’re wrong.”

“Is anyone friendly?”

“A couple of the girls used to talk to me at the beginning, but they’re worried about being in the firing line so now they ignore me, too. It’s fine,” she said a little too quickly, “I really don’t care.”

It was achingly familiar. “Is it mostly one person or a group?” Talking about it, remembering her own experience, made her feel sick. “Is there a ringleader?”

“Let’s watch more skiing.” Jess jumped to her feet and rummaged through Tyler’s collection for another DVD. “Let’s watch the one where he broke that bone in his foot. I want to know how he managed to get up and ski.”

“He didn’t know he’d broken anything. It was much later that they found a chip in the bone.” Brenna sat, watching, wondering how to deal with this situation.

She could have left it. She could have moved on and not touched a subject that made her insides pitch. But she knew that wasn’t going to help Jess. “Jess, honey, we can do something about this.” She felt as if she were fifteen again. “You don’t have to put up with it.”

Jess stared at the screen. “I mean, I know it wasn’t like a major accident or anything, not like his big one, but it still looked pretty bad. Most people wouldn’t have skied down.”

“Do your teachers know? Does anyone know?”

“No. And I don’t want to tell them, all right?” Jess turned, her eyes fierce. “Otherwise, it will make it a hundred times worse. You have
no
idea. Parents think they can walk into school, demand it’s fixed, and it will all be fine but it doesn’t work that way.”

“I know.” Brenna’s mouth was so dry she could hardly speak. “I know it doesn’t work that way.”

“Promise me you won’t tell Dad.”

“He knows something isn’t right. You should talk to him about it. He could help.”

“I don’t need help. When he has a problem, he gets on with it. He doesn’t talk about it all the time.” She tucked her legs under her and stared at the image on the screen. “I’ll handle it. I need to toughen up.”

“No, you don’t. It isn’t about you. It’s about them. Don’t let them make you feel bad about yourself. That’s what I did.” It was painful to remember it, and Jess turned and looked at her.

“So what did you do?”

“Nothing,” Brenna said simply. “I had no confidence. I let them strip that away from me, and I wish I hadn’t.”

Jess stared at her in disbelief. “You’re like,
so
confident. I mean, you run this whole place, and you’re the only person I know who can keep up with my dad on skis. You could have made the U.S. team.”

“I’m confident on the mountain. About the stuff I know. Not about other things. I was hopeless with big groups of kids, I wasn’t interested in any of the things the other girls were interested in. Hair, nails, dressing up, boys—” She blushed, because of course she had been interested in one boy in particular.

“That’s how I feel.”

“If you don’t want to do anything different, I understand, because I felt that way. But maybe we could try and work this out together.” She sat for a moment, remembering how lonely she’d felt when she was in school. “And you can talk to me. Sometimes it helps to talk.”

Jess fiddled with her sock. “You won’t tell my dad?”

“Not if you don’t want me to. But you should think about telling him yourself. He really cares about you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Her cheeks were pink. “But you know Dad. I’m worried he’d care a little bit too much. He’d go stomping in there.”

Brenna thought about the times he’d threatened to do exactly that when she was at school and knew that holding him back wouldn’t be easy. “Maybe we can think of small things you could do. Like looking more confident or pretending you don’t care.”

“It wouldn’t work.”

“Maybe not, but it might be worth trying.”

“Did you?”

“No. I tried to ignore it and struggled through each day, but I wish I hadn’t. I wish I’d told them I deserved respect. That everyone deserves respect.”

Jess curled her legs under her. “Did you have any friends?”

“Your dad.” Brenna gave a half smile. “The moment I got out of school, I used to come up here and hang out with the O’Neils.”

“Who was the person who was mean to you? Does she still live around here?”

Brenna stared at her, heart thudding. It was the one question she knew she could never answer. “No, she doesn’t. I think we should focus on you—”

The sound of the front door opening made them both jump and the next minute Ash bounded into the room, trailing snow across the floor.

Relieved at the interruption, Brenna grabbed his collar and coaxed him to sit.

Tyler strode into the room, glowering like a caged beast. “He pulled away from me twice in the forest. He is out of control.”

Jess was on her knees on the floor, arms around Ash as she cuddled him and kissed him. “You’re a bad, bad boy. No one understands you.”

“I understand him perfectly.” Tyler shrugged out of his coat. “He’s a thug.”

“He’s adorable.”

“If that’s your idea of adorable, I’m not looking forward to the day you start dating.” He caught sight of the crystal globe on the shelf. “What is that doing there?”

Jess gave Brenna a look that shrieked
I told you so
and started a countdown. “Five, four, three, two, one—”

“I put it there.” Brenna tried to head off the explosion. “You should be really proud of it. I can’t bear that you keep them hidden away.”

He didn’t explode. Instead he stood still. His face could have been carved from stone, and she felt a sudden pang of guilt that she’d caused him more pain.

She waited for him to shout at her but instead he turned and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Jess sighed. “No wonder he’s single.”

* * *

I
T
FELT
AS
IF
his whole life was unraveling. Things he’d had under control suddenly felt out of control. Emotions he tried to ignore were battering him from all sides.

Stepping out of the shower, he reached for a towel and then heard a tap on his bedroom door.

Knotting the towel around his waist, he strolled across the room and opened the door.

Brenna was standing there, and he saw guilt in her eyes in the brief moment before she looked away from his bare chest. “I didn’t mean to make you mad. I’m sorry.” She tripped over her words. “Actually, I’m not sorry. You shouldn’t hide those awards, Tyler. They’re part of you. They represent a huge achievement. You won them.”

He wondered if she wore mascara or if her eyelashes were that thick and lush naturally. “I’m pleased you’re speaking your mind, but why are you speaking it to the wall? We used to be able to look each other in the eyes.”

“You’re not wearing anything.”

“I’m wearing a towel. If you’re not ready to look at me when I’m wearing a towel, you are definitely not ready to have sex with Josh.”

Her jaw dropped. “What does Josh have to do with this?”

Everything. Thinking of her with Josh was the reason he wasn’t sleeping. “All I’m saying is that if you can’t look a guy in the eyes when he’s wearing a towel, you’re not ready to have a night of emotionless sex.”

“It won’t be emotionless. I like Josh.”

Tyler resisted the urge to punch a hole through the wall. “He is not the right guy for you.”

“How do you know? Unlike you, I don’t have a type.”