“Suit yourself.” Chase laughed. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he padded across the deck and stepped into the hot tub. He let out a groan of pleasure. “Water’s perfect. Come on in.” He held out a hand to her.
Tana felt drawn to him by the force of gravity. She crossed the deck, the icy cold against her feet making her move faster. Taking his hand like it wasn’t a big deal, she let him help her down the steps into the welcoming warmth of the water. The heat scalded the bottoms of her cold feet.
Within thirty seconds, the stinging stopped, and she tipped her head back, letting out a little moan. “Okay, you were right. This is good.”
“You’re only in up to your calves,” Chase prompted. “Imagine how it’ll feel when the water’s up to your shoulders.”
He was right a second time—when she sank down into the water it began to dull the lingering aches and pains from her day on the slopes. Tana leaned her head against the headrest, letting the tension go out of her muscles. Something at the core of her unlocked.
“What’s on your mind, Tana?”
She lifted her head and peered at Chase. He was stretched out on the opposite side of the hot tub, muscular arms on full display. The bubbling water obscured his abs, which was a shame. But she could be an arms woman. In fact, she was all in on them now.
Your incredible body. That’s what was on Tana’s mind, not that she’d tell him that. “I’ve been thinking about Lindsey’s ski lessons.” It was a safe topic. “I don’t know if she’s ready for more lessons at the level you’re trying to take her. Maybe you’re moving too fast.”
“We’re still on the bunny hill!” Chase laughed. “She’s improving so much every day. By the end of the season, she’ll be ready for a couple of the easier blue trails.”
Worry twisted through Tana’s gut, kept slightly at bay by the roll and tug of the water.
“That’s the thing. I’m worried Lindsey’s pushing too hard. What if it buckles while she’s skiing?”
Chase pushed off from his side of the hot tub and sat next to her. Tana’s skin pulled tight—goosebumps all over even in the hot water. If her hand floated up just so, just now, she’d be touching him, and—
“You know I can watch for that, right?” His eyes met hers, green and bright, willing her to trust him. “I won’t push her too hard. That’s not the way I teach. You know that. You don’t teach that way either.”
“True.” she agreed. It was hard not to look at Chase’s lips when he was talking. He had full, gorgeous lips, and the memory of how they felt pressed against hers sent a shock of desire down her spine. “But she’s my daughter. I want her to be safe.”
“I want you both to be safe.” Chase’s eyes flicked down over Tana’s face and toward the neckline of her swimsuit. “And I want you to feel good. About everything.”
Tana moved toward Chase at the same time he moved toward her, the jets rocking them off balance and forcing them closer together. He swept her into his lap in a single effortless move, and Tana straddled him right there in the hot tub. Giving in to the urge, she kissed him.
Hard.
Hot.
Deep.
Chase’s hands slipped up around her waist. She had never been so aware of how thin bathing suits were. Almost nothing separated them except the water and a couple of flimsy layers of fabric.
Tana felt unleashed, wild—she nipped at Chase’s bottom lip and traced his abs with her fingernails. Her hips opened around his, inches of water between the two of them, and then less. His tongue coaxed her mouth open and explored her. Tana’s nipples peaked, hard under the hot water, and desire sped through her, pushed along with every beat of her heart. Oh, it felt good, good, good.
And too much. Too much. She could feel herself slipping, falling, sinking into him.
Tana broke the kiss with a gasp and pushed off, floating over to the other side of the hot tub and draping herself over it. A winter breeze soothed her forehead. Was she ever going to catch her breath again? Not likely. Not when Chase was like this. He was trying to help her, quietly, in his own way, without humiliating her. He’d offered ski lessons, his hot tub, and his body.
The water shifted and swirled around her. Chase came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, his touch lighter than the breeze.
“You okay?”
Tana put her knuckles to her teeth. No. I’m not. “I’m...torn. I—I’m attracted to you.”
“That’s a relief.”
She laughed, but it did nothing to release the pressure in her heart. “Of course I’m attracted to you. You’re hot.” Chase got closer, and she could feel the heat of him against her back along with the water. “But I don’t have time for a relationship. And there’s the issue of the fact I’m applying for a promotion in your company. It wouldn’t look good.”
Chase leaned his chin on her shoulder. “No?”
“No,” Tana said firmly. “And I’ve heard you mention more than once that you’re only going to be here temporarily. You—you have other plans for your life. You don’t know which direction you’re going to go.”
His firm body, pressed against her back, was enough to make Tana want to stay the night.
“Hmm.” The rumble of Chase’s voice through her skin and all her muscles was as familiar as it was scintillating. “I know I’m not lonely when I’m with you.” He said it so casually, like he was commenting on the weather or the pine trees surrounding his house. “We could just have a fling. It doesn’t have to be serious. Nobody would need to know about it, so it doesn’t affect anything here at the lodge. And I’m not going to accept a job before the holidays anyway.” His lips brushed against her neck, and Tana shivered. “Friends with benefits.”
Oh, it was so tempting. Tana’s heart ached for it. Her body ached for it. She turned around in Chase’s arms and put her fingertips gently to his chest, regret coursing through her. The hot tub’s jets suddenly felt strong, like they were pushing her away. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I just—I can’t. I have to go.”
Towels were stacked on a bench built into the deck, and Tana grabbed one, wrapping it around herself, and feeling like a fool.
“Tana.”
She stopped, halfway back to the sliding doors that led into the house, and turned to face him.
Chase stood in the center of the hot tub.
Don’t look at his abs. She forced herself to keep her gaze on his face.
He sat down on the far side of the tub, his arms stretched out, completely at ease. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me. Okay?”
Tana nodded. Okay. Cool. That’s what she should have said, but no words came. She turned and left, unsure of what to say. This had not gone at all like she’d planned or hoped.
But then honestly, it was her own fault.
She could have said yes.
9
Chase watched Lindsey fly down the beginner slope, wishing he was out there. His body still remembered what it was like to speed down black diamonds and carve his skis into the snow to stop at the last possible second. His physical therapist said he could try, but if he did, he wasn’t going to start on the bunny hill. He hadn’t done one of those since he was Lindsey’s age.
Lindsey’s lessons had been going well and she was going faster than she’d ever gone before. Man, did she have natural talent. Her cuts were sharp and precise, and Chase marveled at how much more confident she looked on her skis.
“I’m going on the jump!” she shouted, then turned her focus back down the hill. The jump was a very mild one at the bottom of the bunny hill. Wait. But it was too late. Lindsey was already on the approach. She caught a little bit of air and came down with her face screwed up in concentration. And landed. She landed. She’d done it.
“Yes!” He was surprised at how loud he was cheering, but that was fine—Lindsey was whooping too. Joy suffused him, making everything seem like it was in new and vivid color. “You got it! You got it.”
Lindsey skied
over to him, hands held high, and they clashed their ski poles together.
“Mom!” she shouted. “Mom, look what I can do!” Lindsey went past Chase in a blur.
Tana had come out of the lodge in her ski boots and was waving at Lindsey. “What did you do?”
“I went over the jump!”
Seeing Tana sent Chase mentally right back to the hot tub and the roll of her hips in his hands. The slide of her bathing suit against his chest, the way her mouth yielded to his. He shook himself out of memory lane. Lessons were not for fantasizing about Tana. Period. He came to a stop beside the mother and daughter pair in mid-conversation.
Tana frowned.
“—do it again? I have to show you. Can I, Chase?”
“That’s up to your mom.” He’d seen the worry in Tana’s eyes in the hot tub when she’d talked to him about Lindsey’s leg. So far, it hadn’t made a difference. “Really, Tana, she handled the little bump beautifully. All on her own.” Maybe it’s time for her to test her limits.
“I don’t know, Linds.” Tana’s eyes flashed in irritation as she glanced at him before turning her focus back to her daughter. “How’s your leg feeling?”
Lindsey made a face. “It’s fine, Mom.”
“One run,” Tana said. “One slow run, and then we’re going home.”
“Okay,” Chase and Tana said at the same time, laughing.
Chase cleared his throat and pushed off as Lindsey headed for the chairlift. Tana followed, coming to stand beside him at the bottom of the hill. “That’s the bump she went over.” He waved toward the hill.
“What bump?” Tana ground out, worry in her voice.
“That one.” Chase jabbed a finger at it, but she was looking in the wrong direction. He raised a hand to her cheek and gently turned her head another inch or two. “It’s barely a bump. Easy to miss.”
“Whatever. It may be small, but it’s a jump,” Tana said. “I couldn’t have pictured her skiing days ago, much less doing jumps. Ever.”
Chase nudged her with an elbow. “You can’t encase a kid in bubble wrap and expect her to enjoy the lesson.”
“It was only one layer of bubble wrap,” Tana joked, and a tension Chase hadn’t known he was feeling eased off. “Can you blame me?”
The two of them watched Lindsey get off the chairlift at the top of the bunny hill. She waved, the motion big and free, then started down the hill.
“Did you tell her to go on the jump?” Tana’s eyes were trained on her daughter, who was picking up speed toward the top of the hill. Still in control. Still confident.
“No. Lindsey did it all by herself.”
Tana glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Seems risky.”
“Well, I brought extra bubble wrap.”
Lindsey barreled down the bunny hill at top speed, heading down the side where fewer skiers were in her way. With her helmet and goggles on, Chase couldn’t see her face from this distance. But he did see the way she wobbled about halfway down, then again three-quarters of the way. Anxiety clutched at his throat. He wanted to run and stop her, but he’d never get to her in time.
Chase held his breath and waited. Seconds later, she approached the jump and he noticed instantly her skis weren’t straight. The angle of the tiny jump fought against Lindsey’s skis and she went down hard in a spray of snow, skis, and legs all tangled up.
He took off running, ignoring the pulling pain in his leg, his heart in his throat. He was dimly aware of Tana running next to him. All the sounds from the ski hill faded into an ominous silence. Get up, get up.
Lindsey hadn’t moved by the time they got there.
“Are you okay? Talk to me, Lindsey,” he said, fear gripping every inch of his body.
Tana was near tears as she held her daughter’s hand. “Lindsey, honey. Talk to mommy.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “That was awesome,” she whispered.
“No, it wasn’t.” Tana’s voice shook. “You took a big spill. Come on, can you get up—”
They needed to move quickly—out of the way of the other skiers. “Is everything okay? Can you wiggle your toes?” He gave her a quick assessment, making sure nothing was broken before scooping Lindsey up in his arms. The path was clear. Tana’s footsteps closed in on them a minute later.
“Let’s get her to the car.” A shake in Tana’s voice told him that she felt just as scared as he did. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Lindsey rolled her eyes. “Mom, I’m okay. Everybody falls sometimes. Can you put me down, Chase? I wanted to go for another run.”
“No.” The forceful denial came from them both.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We need to get you somewhere stationary, so we can be sure you’re all right,” Chase added. It was also for his own peace of mind.
“I am all right,” Lindsey complained. “I don’t have a broken leg. See? My knees are fine.” She swung her heavy ski boots in Chase’s arms, putting more pressure on his bad leg. “Put me down.”
“Relax, Linds.” Tana stuck close to Chase’s side, one hand on Lindsey’s arm. “We’re going home.”
“I don’t want to go home. I want to stay here! Put me down.” Lindsey swung her legs harder, with all her might. “Chase, I’m not done skiing.”
“For today, you are,” he answered. He’d have to call someone to go out and pick up Lindsey’s skis and poles and have them returned to the rental shed.
Tana and Lindsey argued back and forth all the way to Tana’s car. Chase focused on putting one foot in front of the other, while she kicked and pushed against him.
The farther they got from the ski hill, the redder Lindsey’s face got. “Come on. I don’t want to go.” Clearly, she was overtired, although her alertness was more reassuring than anything. They weren’t dealing with a concussion.
Chase bent and put Lindsey in the backseat of the car while Tana hopped in the front and started the ignition. He reached for the seatbelt, but Lindsey batted him away.
“I can do it myself.” Her eyes met Chase’s with a ferocity he recognized from Tana. “Don’t touch it.” The girl’s face flushed, and she looked pointedly down at the belt buckle and slammed it home with a pout. Lindsey turned away from him, staring at the other window. She lifted her ski boots and kicked the back of her mom’s seat.
“Knock it off, Linds.” Tana’s voice stayed even, but he could tell she wasn’t happy. “And you need to apologize.”
“Sorry,” Lindsey said sullenly.
“All right,” he answered her evenly. Was this what it felt like to be a dad? To do the right thing, even when the other person involved put up a fuss. To put someone else’s safety ahead of everything else. It was a strange feeling, for sure. For as long as he could remember, he’d only worried about himself. And more recently, his grandmother. And now, Lindsey and Tana. The list was growing, and for once, he didn’t seem to mind.
Chase hopped into the passenger seat without a word. Her leg might not be okay, after all. Tana had warned him.
Tana drove with military precision, eyes locked on the road.
He couldn’t gauge her emotions, and her silence was tearing him to pieces. She had every right to be mad at him. “I’m sorry, Tana.”
“Thank you.” He wasn’t used to this terse, clipped voice from her.
“If it helps, I can make sure she doesn’t attempt any more jumps. Maybe—”
“Not now.” She turned off the main road and into the parking area in front of her cottage.
“If you want to do fewer lessons for a while, I—” He was trying to find a win-win solution for Lindsey and Tana because one thing he knew for sure, Lindsey wouldn’t want to quit.
“We’ll talk about this later.” Finality rang in her tone. There would be no shrinking from the fact that Lindsey could have been injured because of him. And there was no way to rush this conversation—he’d have to wait.
Lindsey got out of the car and headed inside, not bothering to wait for help
.
“I’m going to my room.” She crossed her arms over her chest, one hip jutting out. If Chase wasn’t so worried about her, it might have been funny—her small six-year-old frame, with such attitude. Lindsey stalked away, stopping only once to look back at them. Her eyes dared them to follow. She shut the door hard, not enough to call it a slam, but loud enough to let them know how she felt.
Chase didn’t want her out of sight, not exactly, but he desperately needed to hash this out with Tana. He took a deep breath. Never, not once in his life, had he ever felt stakes as high as these. It was a heavy weight to carry, being someone’s parent. He’d experienced a single, powerful jolt of fear out there on the ski slopes, but Tana had to deal with that kind of feeling every day. Chase struggled for the words to describe it to her—this shred of understanding he had now. Not a full understanding, of course, but—something.
“Tana...”
“Wait just a second, okay?” Tana slipped by him, kicking off her boots as she went down the hall to check on her daughter anyway.
If Tana wanted to stop ski lessons altogether, he wouldn’t blame her. He stepped out of his boots and wandered across the living room, waiting. He would do whatever it took to make Tana feel better about this, even if it meant ending the lessons. Anything.
10
Your safety is the most important thing to both of us. We needed to make sure you were all right. It’s important to be careful when you’re skiing. Tana tried out fifty different things to say to her daughter, but none of them seemed right. She’d been telling Lindsey to be careful all her life, and maybe that was the problem. Still, the instinct to shield her daughter from all possible pain was a powerful one. It didn’t want to be ignored.
Tana closed Lindsey’s door behind her and stepped on a jacket “Lindsey...” She bent to pick up the carelessly discarded coat, and her eyes followed a trail of snow clothes—pants, helmet, thick socks—all the way to her daughter’s twin-sized bed. She expected to find Lindsey glaring at her from the corner, but instead her daughter was curled up under her pink-and-purple comforter.
The Billionaire Athlete’s Christmas Fling: Elkin Brothers Christmas Book One Page 6