Buried Alive

by Brown, Stacey Marie

  “Jesus, I know I shouldn’t care anymore. I’m not a kid…but I do. And as much as I hate the bastard, I can’t seem to stop myself from doing it again. He has this power over me.”

  “Who?” My voice emerged barely above a whisper.

  “My father.” He leaned back on his hands. “I stupidly tried to call him this morning. As usual, he didn’t answer, even though I know he’s there because he never leaves his house. I invite him again and again to come watch me, but he never will.” He heaved out a long exhale. “Do you know how it feels to be second best to a sibling? Hell, I would have loved to be second, I wasn’t even on the board.”

  “Actually, I do.” I turned my attention out, the sunset feeling safer to watch. “All too well.”

  “A sister?”

  “No. A brother. One I idolized and adored as much as my parents did. For so long I didn’t notice the uneven show of affection bestowed on him because I was so enthralled by my brother too. At least he seemed to feel the same about me, which helped counter their lack of attention a bit. He was the one who taught me how to snowboard.”

  “Lucky you.” Rhys peered at my profile briefly. “At least you had him. My brother was pretty much a stranger to me. My parents chose to stay with him while they let my coach raise me in another country.”

  I grimaced, biting down on my tongue.

  “I spent only one Christmas with them after I moved to the States at seven,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He wagged his head. “Funny enough, it was here. I think I was ten or eleven. I thought this place was heaven. I don’t have the same rose-tinted glasses as I did then.”

  “Yeah…” I let my legs fall, crossing them. “I had so many sparkles in my eyes as a kid it blinded me to a lot of truths. When those sparkles died away, reality was an extremely harsh pill to swallow.”

  Rhys didn’t respond, but he nodded like he understood perfectly. We both went quiet, a few minutes passing in comfortable silence. Shadows descended down on the valley floor, coloring the village in deep grays and blues as the afternoon quickly turned to evening.

  Our silence was filled with common understanding. The more we were together, the more I realized we had in common.

  “You said Shaun raised you?”

  “Yeah. Guy’s been everything to me.”

  “My grandma pretty much raised me.” I pressed a hand to my chest, as though to prevent it cracking open.

  “Why aren’t you with her on Christmas?”

  “She died a month ago.”

  “Hell, I’m sorry. I should know better than to ask that question.” He faced me, his brows furrowed.

  “Don’t be,” I repeated his words. “I miss her so much. She was there for me when no one else was. She became my everything. Helped me through some tough times.”

  “What happened to you?” His lids narrowed, his gaze felt as if it were probing deeper than my skin, seeing through me. My jaw locked down as I tried to build the wall back up. Moments passed, but he didn’t pry; he must have sensed I wasn’t going to say anything more.

  “Sounds like you were really lucky to have her.” He rubbed the snow off his gloves, giving me an out.

  “I was.” Needing the attention off me, I twisted to him. “You said you called your dad, but you didn’t mention your mom?”

  “She’s dead.”

  A block of ice hurled down my throat. “What?”

  “She died eight years ago. Cancer.”

  “But…but you told me you recently went to see her.”

  “Yeah, in the cemetery down the road.”

  “I am so sorry.” I rolled my hands into balls. I was sorrier than he’d ever know.

  His face leaned close to mine. “I think you and I can stop with apologies. They get fuckin’ annoying.”

  Understanding flicked in my eyes. “Yeah, they do.”

  After my grandma’s death, I was sick of the word “sorry.” I knew people were trying to be kind, to express their concern. But if I heard “I’m sorry” said one more time with their hand on their heart and pity in their eyes, I was going to pummel someone.

  “No more apologies. Not between us.” Rhys bent closer to me, his gaze dropping to my mouth. Air hiccupped out of my lungs like a bunch of leap frogs bottlenecking in my throat, and a stampede racing over my heart. He tipped in slowly until I felt the heat coming off his lips. My muscles felt pinned in place, my head woozy.

  No! You can’t do this, Hannah. Stop!

  His mouth grazed mine. Damn, I wanted this. I wanted to feel his lips, to taste him.

  No! Wrong!

  I jerked back, leaping to my feet.

  “We can’t,” I mumbled, the statement falling flat. He peered at me, confusion wrinkling his forehead.

  “Why?”

  “Because we just can’t.” I headed for my board. “I better go.”

  “No.” Rhys got to his feet, stalking after me. “Don’t run from me this time. Tell me why.”

  “I work for you, for one.” I moved away before he could touch me. “Against policy.”

  “You work for the hotel, not me.”

  “There are still rules against it.”

  “And why don’t you strike me as the kind of girl who follows rules?” He crossed his arms. “Don’t bullshit me.”

  “Maybe I simply don’t like you that way. Did you ever think of that? Your ego doesn’t understand?” I trudged through the snow, needing to put distance between us.

  Hands grabbed me and spun me around. The board dropped from my hold as he pushed me back into a tree. The aggression unfurled a mix of anger and desire through me, sparking excitement in my blood.

  He pressed his body into mine, his hands holding my wrists, trapping me. “You want me to buy that you don’t like me? Then stop looking at me as though you want to rip my clothes off. I caught you. Several times today. But it was because I was doing the same thing to you. Don’t lie to me.” He dropped a hand, skating it up my thigh. “Would you have stopped me if I had tugged your jeans down that morning and slid inside you? Would you now?”

  Even through layers of clothes, I felt his touch scalding me. I bit back a moan at the heat of his body, his erection pressing into me. I tried not to react, to act as if he weren’t affecting me at all and to say, yes, I would have stopped him.

  I failed miserably.

  “That’s what I thought,” he said into my ear. “What do you want, Hannah?”

  Him. Up against this tree right now. Fucking me until I couldn’t see straight. But I couldn’t do that. Not to him.

  “Dinner,” I choked out, forcing anything but the truth from my lips.

  He blinked. Gradually his mouth started to curve, his head going back, and laughter rang in the air. The sound of it warmed me in every place it shouldn’t. I hadn’t heard him truly laugh, and it expanded joy around my ribs.

  He stepped back, chuckling, his head swinging back and forth. “Fair enough.” He stuffed his hands into the jacket pockets. “I’ll cook us something.”

  “You cook?” I pushed off the tree, my body sending me hate mail. It really, really wanted him.

  “Don’t look so surprised.” He went to his board. “I had to learn to cook. I didn’t have anyone to do it for me. All Shaun knew how to do was microwave stuff.”

  Cords of sadness and anger tightened my jaw. His situation was so fucked up. His parents pretty much abandoned him while they doted on their prince but rejecting him. Telling him by their actions he was not worth their time and love. It had to be so hard to deal with.

  I had gone through my own questions: Why wasn’t I worth as much as my brother? Why didn’t they love me the same as they did him? What was wrong with me? I couldn’t imagine what Rhys went through, how the hurt and jealousy must snake around him, whispering in his ear, telling him he did not deserve anything or wasn’t worthy of being loved.

  He bent over, snapping his board up as my gaze moved over his firm ass,
my mouth watering.

  “What are you going to make me?” Crap, I was totally flirting with him. Seriously, what was wrong with me? I couldn’t seem to help myself.

  Rhys’s eyes shifted over to me. “Making a request?”

  “Depends.”

  A bad-boy grin tucked in the side of his mouth. “Maybe homemade chicken soup. Always helps when you’re sick.”

  I snorted, turning it into a fake cough. “Oh, yeah. I feel awful.”

  “Also a good reason not to order anything from the restaurant.”

  I nodded. By now even Siena probably wanted to kill me for not coming in. They could fire me; I didn’t care. I would do this again in a second.

  Still, beneath my temporary joy ran a thread of dread. If I were smart, I’d leave now and let the memory of the day live as is. But I couldn’t seem to do it.

  Being with Rhys was like breathing. It wasn’t a want, but a necessity.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Rhys

  Savory aromas of sauce and spices warmed my nose, my stomach rumbling as I stirred the pot.

  “It smells so good. I’m starving.” Hannah came up behind me taking a deep breath, lightly touching my back. Jesus. This girl gave me an instant hard-on. I looked over my shoulder and gripped the counter. She was dressed in a pair of my drawstring sweats and a T-shirt while our damp clothes were in the dryer. The outfit practically drowned her, but I still thought she looked unbelievable and loved the idea of her wearing my stuff. “Is it ready?”

  “No.” I snapped back forward, my spoon stabbing at the bottom of the pot, trying to stop the impulse to rip those clothes right off her. It was tough enough when I knew she was taking a shower, my mind filtering to images of her naked body instead of cooking the meat for the sauce.

  “How about now?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Uhhh... what about now?”

  I laughed, putting a top over the pot. By the time we got back to my cabin, we were both so hungry I nixed the soup idea because it took too long, and I started spaghetti Bolognese instead. It wasn’t gourmet or anything, but I had perfected it over time. I made it a lot growing up, especially before competitions when I burned far more calories than I could consume.

  “Why don’t you get something to drink? Relax. Watch the pasta while I take a quick shower. Or…you can join me.”

  Her eyebrow cocked up.

  “Right.” I slipped past her. “Just make sure it doesn’t boil over or burn. Got it?”

  She gave me a derisive snort. “I think I can handle it. You’re not the only one who can cook.”

  “Really? Guess you’ll have to cook dinner for me next time.” I winked at her and loped up the stairs to my bathroom.

  My shower was a little longer than I planned. I couldn’t get her out of my head. Thoughts of her stepping into the shower with me, water trailing down her breasts, her mouth on me… I was so hard it was painful. My erection had all but frozen that way after hours of being with her.

  Women in general turned me on, but I had never been this permanently affected by a girl without her even touching me. I found myself saying things to her I had never told anyone else. Besides being gorgeous, she was really easy to be with and funny…but it was more than this. There was something about her, I couldn’t figure it out. She was different, and I had no clue why.

  My hand rubbed frantically as her imaginary groans rolled through my head, her voice calling my name. I hissed through my groan. Release came in pulses, flattening me against the tile. The water rained down on me as I caught my breath.

  “Uh? Rhys?” Hannah’s voice sounded through the door, a tap on the door.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Yeah?” How long was she there? Did she hear me?

  “The pasta is done. It’s getting past al dente and bordering on spongy.”

  “I’ll be right there.” I shut off the water, pinching the bridge of my nose. Jerking off was supposed to relax me a bit, but this time it did anything but. It was like in hearing her voice, my cock realized I was trying to trick it, and now it was pissed off again.

  I toweled off, tugged on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, and bounded down the stairs. She’d already poured the pasta into a colander, which fogged the window above the sink.

  She turned, her gaze roaming down me, her eyes lingering on the front of my sweats before she snapped her head back to the pasta. She energized every nerve ending, forcing me to pause and take a gulp of air. Think of training. Nope, didn’t work. Think of Shaun... Graham, having sex. Hell, maybe even together. I flinched, rubbing my eyes. Yep, that did it.

  I staggered to a cupboard, pulling out two dishes.

  “I took one of your beers. Hope you don’t mind.” She held it up, taking a sip. I tried not to linger on her lips wrapped around the bottle.

  “Don’t mind at all.” I twisted to the fridge, taking one out for myself, letting the cold air chill my skin. Usually snowboarding tired me out enough so I wasn’t all raging hormones when I went out later, but that didn’t seem to apply to her. “Tell me. What brought you to Whistler? I know the restaurant is run by a famous chief, but I doubt working for him is what brought you all the way up here from San Diego.”

  She choked on the sip she was downing, patting her chest, letting out a strangled laugh. “Uh. No. Not exactly.” She turned off the stove, setting the sauce onto a cold burner. “I have family here. And after my grandma died…I felt lost.”

  Jesus, I understood.

  “No boyfriend or job to keep you there?”

  Her blue eyes peered at me through her lashes, a sly smile tugging on her lips. “There was a boyfriend. But he wasn’t enough for me to stay.”

  “Ouch.” I smirked, taking a sip, happier at that statement than I should have been. “Sorry, to hear it.”

  She snorted, lifting her eyebrows as if to say she knew I wasn’t in the least bit sorry.

  I scooped out two huge plates of pasta, handing them to her, and she poured the chunky sauce on top.

  “Parmesan?”

  “Of course.” She moved to the counter with the two plates as I grabbed the cheese out of the fridge.

  “I also kind of flunked out of school.” She sat down at the island counter. “There were not a lot of reasons for me to stay.”

  “You don’t look like the type who flunks out of school.” I grabbed cutlery and our beers and sat down next to her.

  Her shoulders drooped. “Normally no. I’ve always been pretty good at school. No scholar or anything but decent grades.”

  “So…what happened?” I couldn’t put a finger on it, but something told me there was far more to Hannah Jennings than she was letting on. Something dark lurked there, which only those who hid the same could sense.

  She shrugged, grabbing for the parmesan. “Nothing meant anything to me.” She poured a hill of cheese on her pasta, making me smile. I took it from her hand and did the same to mine. “Everyone else seemed to have some passion, a direction. I had none. In class after class I would sit there not knowing why I was there, and it only made me feel emptier.”

  I had gone to public school and trained in the afternoon. After turning fourteen, I was tutored at home and took the GED at sixteen. I always had thoughts of college in the future, someday when this all ended, but honestly, like Hannah, I hadn’t found anything else I loved the same as snowboarding. Some people always wanted to be a doctor or a fireman. Snowboarding was my calling.

  She spun her pasta around the fork and took a big bite, closing her eyes for a moment, a groan erupting from her mouth. “Oh my god, this is really good.”

  “You sound surprised.” I shoveled in a mouthful.

  “No…” A small grin lit her eyes. “Well, a little. But don’t take it personally; I grew up eating gourmet foods.”

  “Wealthy family?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Let’s just say my father is kind of a food connoisseur. Sort of ruined my taste buds for others’ cooking.�
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  “I guess I’m honored.”

  “Or it’s really not that good but you starved me so long anything would taste like heaven.” An impish smile ghosted her lips. With a bark of laughter, tightness in my chest lifted.

  “Don’t mistake my cooking for you as a sign I’m trying to get you into bed.” I winked, taking a drink of my beer.

  She almost snorted out her food. “Well, don’t mistake my eating your food as a sign you’re going to get me in bed.” She tapped her beer to mine, taking a long pull, her eyes watching me before she dug back to her plate.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as she ate, enraptured by her. The longer I was around her, the lighter I became. Even the demons inside calmed in her presence.

  Between the two of us, we finished all the pasta. She was tiny, but the girl could hold her own with food, which I loved.

  “You mentioned a brother. Any other siblings?” I grabbed her dish, taking them both to the sink.

  “No, just the brother.”

  “Did he live in San Diego with Grandmother too?”

  Her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched as she slid off the stool. “Aren’t you full of questions.”

  I faced her, pulling out two more beers, her eyes not meeting mine. There was definitely a story here. And as much as I tried to keep to myself about my past, probably because everyone already knew so much, I understood the need to put a guard up. But the more I learned about her, the more she felt like a mystery. I wanted to know more about her. Figure her out.

  “Why are you avoiding my question?” I placed a beer next to her.

  “And why aren’t you offering me dessert?” She leaned against the counter next to me, her hand on one hip, staring up at me in a challenge.

  “Because I’m afraid you’ll eat it all.” I grinned down, leaning closer to her.

  “You’re probably right.” She didn’t back away. “But it’s still polite to ask.”

  “Do you want dessert, Hannah?” I moved even closer to her, my view drifting down to her mouth, waiting for her to back away. She didn’t.

  “That’s a stupid question.” She visually swallowed, taking in my nearness, inviting it.