The Winter Games Box Set

by Rebecca Sharp

  “Hey, man. What’s up?” An easy smile underneath a scruffy beard greeted me.

  With laid-back eyes and surfer-curled hair dragging in front of his face, Tyler Strong stood out from the typical resort crowd.

  “Hey, Tyler. Not much, man,” I replied, weaving my way through the last of the kids who were wandering around the shop in awe. “How’ve you been?”

  Tyler was the twins, Chance and Channing, and their sister, Ally Ryder’s cousin. From what I gathered, he and Ally were close when she lived out in Florida for a few years and then a few weeks before the season started back in October, he moved out here and was put in charge of the day-to-day at King Boards.

  “Keepin’ busy.” He nodded and flipped through the stack of papers that sat on the desk, scribbling notes along the sides of some. “You need a wax?”

  That was the other thing that Tyler did here: waxing and tuning. And holy hell, was he good.

  I had no clue if waxing a surfboard was the same as a snowboard but he showed up here with a magic wax, altered from the blend he’d used at his surf shop back in Florida, and if the lines for the boards weren’t out the door, they were for this wax.

  “Yeah, I should’ve gotten it done at the beginning of the season but just haven’t had time.” I unzipped my bag and slung my King board onto the counter. Mine wasn’t custom—I wasn’t a professional boarder.

  “No problem. One sec.” Sticking the pencil behind his ear, it immediately disappeared in the shaggy mess of hair, as he turned and walked to the back.

  Shorts.

  I laughed to myself.

  There was a ninety-nine percent chance that Tyler didn’t own a pair of pants. No matter what season it was, although most of them up this way involved some degree of cold, he always had shorts on.

  “Alright, hand her over.” He returned with one hand extended.

  I slid my board across the counter and into Tyler’s capable grasp.

  “So, you still enjoying Aspen?” I asked as he set to work.

  He nodded in a way that was almost too enthusiastic. “Yeah, definitely. Good to be around family and friends.”

  “Always a good thing,” I agreed. “You miss the beach though.”

  He shrugged. “Well, I mean, hard not to when it’s what I grew up with. Sand… snow… they’re both good and bad in their own ways.”

  “Well, if you’re going to stay out here, I really would suggest investing in a pair of pants.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, all the while his hands continued to move over my board like he didn’t even need to look at what he was doing.

  “I’ll take it under consideration.”

  “You’re not staying, are you?”

  He shrugged again and I doubted that planning ahead was really his strong suit. Tyler was the kind of guy who went with the flow.

  “Not sure. It’s really great here but there’s something to be said for the ocean.”

  “Yeah, that’s what my sister, Meghan, said when she moved to California,” I told him. I’d always been a mountain boy, but Meghan loved the water from the first time our family visited Tahoe and as soon as college gave her the respectable excuse to move out to the coast, she did.

  “Cali,” he said with a nod. “I’ve been thinking about it. We’ll see what happens.”

  He wiped the bottom of my board down with a damp towel and handed it back to me.

  “You’re all set.”

  “Thanks, man. Really appreciate it.” I handed him cash for the wax and then slipped back out through the crowd that seemed to be even worse since I got there.

  I looked for her on the way back to ski patrol. She’d be here although probably on the trails that they had closed off for the athletes to practice on. Still, I looked for her like an addict looking for his next fix.

  As I rounded the corner, I slowed, catching sight of a girl that looked familiar talking to one of the patrol supervisors, Jeff Ridler. It took a second until I was close enough to realize where I recognized her from: Andrea Jensen; she was the skier that Jac had gotten into a fight with—the one that accused her of sabotaging her skis.

  Her hand was on Jeff’s chest and they spoke in hushed tones, their faces close. If I didn’t know any better, because Jeff was married, I would’ve thought maybe they were seeing each other. Maybe it was that feeling of wrong or maybe it was something else that had me heading toward them instead of for the side entrance. I wasn’t planning on eaves-dropping, but it felt like one of those situations where something just wasn’t right.

  I didn’t get close enough to hear much of anything before Jeff spotted me and immediately stepped back from the woman, their murmured words disintegrating on the wind.

  “Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll make sure all the equipment is appropriately and efficiently taken care of.” Jeff cleared his throat and spoke with a firm, professional tone.

  She smiled and nodded at him before sliding her snake-like gaze to me. Nothing in her expression faltered, nothing looked amiss, and if I hadn’t read those news articles the other night, I wouldn’t have seen it—the same look on her face when security pulled Jac off of her, like there was a plan I was unaware of and this was just the start.

  My eyes followed her as she walked away toward the lower lodge, an unsettled feeling coming over me.

  “Everything okay?” I asked Jeff coolly.

  “Of course.” His chin rose telling me I better be careful questioning my boss.

  Too bad for him I was volunteering, and I didn’t give a shit about keeping the job if there was something shady going on.

  “What was she asking about?” I pressed as we walked inside.

  Not answering would have made me more suspicious than I already was, but what he gave me didn’t leave much room for questioning.

  “She was just wondering about our protocol for equipment management before the Cup. I assured her that each athlete’s gear would be held under lock and key so there was no chance of tampering or theft.”

  He kept walking as I stopped at my locker, putting an end to the conversation.

  All the competing athletes were given individual, key-carded lockers inside the patrol building where they could store their equipment separate from the public lockers of the resort. Most big events offered something similar out of convenience for the athletes, along with the benefit of additional security.

  But the way he spoke… the way they looked… security was the last thing that came to mind.

  I shoved my arms into my jacket, pulling on the Ski Patrol vest over top. A few of the other guys said hi to me but I barely managed a grumbled greeting, too preoccupied with what I’d seen.

  I needed to talk to Jac.

  I needed to talk to Jac about Andrea.

  My chest tightened. How the fuck was I supposed to talk to her about it when she clearly didn’t want to touch that conversation with a ten-foot pole the other night…

  Suited up, I stared out the window of the gondola as it hauled twenty of us to the top of the mountain. I’d volunteered to check out the beginner slopes to make sure there weren’t assholes blowing by the groups of kids that always came in the afternoons for ski club.

  It was a good choice because my mind was everywhere except on the mountain.

  Was Andrea worried about Jac sabotaging her skis again?

  That made no sense. I knew Jac wouldn’t do something like that; she didn’t need to cheat to win.

  Which left only one other option: Andrea was planning on doing something to Jac in retaliation.

  The thought blinded me with rage as I strapped in at the top of the slope.

  “You good, Masters?” one of the younger patrol skiers asked.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Just lost in thought. I’ll take the Lazy Mile. Stay safe.”

  “You too.”

  It was a pretty uneventful trail, not that I could pay much attention to it, until I heard my name about halfway down.

  “Hey, Kyle!”
<
br />   I turned and swung to a stop, looking over to see Tammy and Nick Frost, along with his daughter Lila along the side of the trail.

  I drifted over to them unprepared for polite conversation at the moment.

  “Hey, guys. How are you?”

  “I’m flying!” Lila exclaimed enthusiastically.

  The six-year-old was on skis just like Tammy. I gave Frost an arched eyebrow. “You let her ski?”

  He glared at me. “She wants to be just like her mom.” Instantly, those hard eyes softened as he looked at his woman. For the first time, now that I’d met Jac, I wasn’t jealous of that look. “She’s already better than some of the ten-year-olds at Wyatt’s school. In-fucking-credible.”

  “Nick!” Tammy glared at him, letting go of Lila’s hand as the girl began to calmly carve along the side.

  “That’s awesome.” I was watching, but I wasn’t really paying attention.

  “What’s eating you? You look like you’re about to burn down the mountain.”

  Rumor had it that Nick Frost saw everything that happened in this town. But just because he saw it didn’t mean he said anything about it. He was known to be as cold as his name implied.

  My expression must be bad if he was asking…

  “Nothing.” I brushed it off. It probably was nothing.

  “Someone threaten your Ice Princess?” he remarked calmly.

  My head whipped to him. This was exactly what I meant. How the fuck did he know?

  “How the hell did you—”

  “Jessa said something to Tammy about the ski Queen going to your show.” I was surprised he even told me. “And you didn’t have that jealous sob face on when you saw Tammy and me. Figured it’s because you found what you were looking for.”

  “Screw you,” I retorted.

  “And now,” he continued like he hadn’t even heard me. “You’re worried something is going to happen to her since you look like you’re about to stab the first skier you see who isn’t abiding by the ‘Slow Ski’ sign.”

  “I’m not going to stab anyone.” Except maybe you.

  He shrugged. “Well, I know people who could help you hide the body if you change your mind.”

  Groaning, I shook my head. “I just… have a bad fucking feeling about something I overheard. And what I overheard could be nothing, but I can’t let it go.”

  Frost looked at me for a second before reaching for the inside pocket in his jacket, pulling out a small white business card and handing it to me.

  “As much as I don’t like you because at one time, you looked at my woman.” I rolled my eyes because it was for maybe a day when Jessa tried to set the two of us up. “You aren’t an idiot, Masters. None of us are when it comes to our women. If you think there’s something wrong, you’ll need him.”

  Jackson Pyle.

  Underneath the name was a local number.

  There was no job title on the card, but I didn’t need to see it spelled out to infer he was some sort of private investigator or private security.

  Frost cleared his throat. “Heard he was leaving town, but he might still be around. I’d give him a call.”

  “You trust him?”

  “With my daughter and Tammy, yeah, I did.” And that was all I needed to know; Nick Frost had trusted this man with his life.

  I tucked the card into my pocket. Jumping to conclusions never ended well, but I wasn’t going to sit and wait for someone to try to fuck with my girl.

  I WAS UP AND AT the gym early this morning, wanting to get my lift in before my patients since I’d be heading back up to the mountain in the afternoon. Today, they would begin closing down some of the slopes to prep them for the Cup before the Christmas holiday at the end of the week.

  And when something became off-limits, it was immediately more attractive to a certain unruly demographic of the mountain population.

  Grunting through my last rep, I let the bar I was bench pressing drop onto the hooks, my arms and chest pulsing with the strain. I was overdoing it. I reached for my water bottle, acknowledging that my mind was only half-focused on my workout.

  Okay, less than half.

  I kept thinking about the conversation and the card Frost gave me yesterday. It was just sitting on my kitchen counter, waiting to be used.

  This was ridiculous.

  I literally had less than fucking nothing to go on. What could I possibly tell the guy, Jackson? I barely overheard one skier ask about keeping her skis safe, and that meant there was a plot to harm my girlfriend?

  He’d probably tell me I was a paranoid idiot and hang up. I certainly would.

  No, he’d probably do whatever I paid him to, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to have him look into anything without talking to Jac first. No fucking way.

  I took another long drink just as Jac and her trainer walked in. My breath rushed from my lungs as though a weight had been dropped on my chest. I hadn’t expected to see her here this morning. I figured the week before the competition meant all mountain time.

  And that was why I ordered the most giant basket of fruit that I could find along with the book ‘Star Wars Smoothies’, and scheduled it to be delivered to her apartment later today.

  It was shameless, but I knew she’d be second-guessing dinner tomorrow so I had to send her a reminder that Prince Charming was, in fact, the good guy.

  Wiping my face on my sleeve, I stood and popped out my earbuds as she strolled over to me sporting a Darth Vader tee today. That wasn’t a good sign.

  “Good morning, Gorgeous.”

  “Hey,” she replied, planting her hands on her hips. “Look, Kyle, about the other night… about dinner—”

  “Stop running from me, Jac,” I ground out, stepping into her space. “Stop running from this.”

  Defiance flashed behind her eyes. “I’m not running. I just don’t think—”

  “Hey!” We both swung our heads as the lanky guy who’d been using the leg press as more of a chair to watch TV than anything else appeared next to us with his hand on Jac’s shoulder; that alone made me want to strangle him. “Are you the girl they’re talking about?”

  He jerked his head, using his hand that was holding the remote to point at the TV and we followed his gaze to where he’d switched the channel to the news.

  “Rolling Stone just named Jaclyn Blanchard the most dominant female athlete with a week left before the World Cup.”

  My eyes slid over to her, watching as the announcement barely had any effect on her person.

  No one else saw the difference but me. No one else fucking looked.

  They looked at her unimpressed face and wove a tale of the Ice Princess who wasn’t surprised at winning things that belonged to her.

  I saw the girl who, no matter how many times she won, still believed it was never good enough for the standards she held herself to. I saw the girl who would reach for the moon, and when she caught it, criticize herself for not reaching farther.

  Self-criticism wasn’t newsworthy but conceit was.

  “She is pretty much unstoppable, Steve, and not just on the slopes. Rumor has it that she’s been hitting the gym hard as well these weeks in preparation for all three events that she will compete in next weekend.”

  “Well, when you sacrifice the rest of your life to be the best, you better make sure you get there.”

  Blood thumped through my veins, watching as her body tensed as though she’d been struck. Everything moved in slow motion except the vile words that kept spewing from the screen, the moron who’d decided to blast it through the gym looking eagerly back at Jac like she was going to give him the inside scoop.

  “Do you think the title is preemptive?”

  “I know we have a great set of competitors out here for the Cup, including young up-and-comer, Jen Bird. And don’t forget, this is the first time in five years that Blanchard and Andrea Jensen will be competing against each other.”

  “Well we haven’t seen much of Jensen since she left the sport a fe
w years ago to recover from the injury that Blanchard supposedly caused.”

  The strangled cry that came from Jac was like a knife to my heart, the words like a knife to hers.

  Uninhibited rage rushed out of me as I ripped the remote from the fucker’s hand and shut the TV off before my fist found its way wrapped around his neck.

  “Put that shit back on and I’ll make sure you never see the inside of this building again,” I threatened with a low growl. “Touch her”—I nodded toward Jac—“talk to her, hell, if I find you even looking at her on another goddamn TV, I’ll make sure that no one sees you again.”

  Eyes bulging, he nodded frantically, scurrying away like a goddamn rat as soon as I let go. I’d never threatened someone like that before; I’d never felt the need to. And this one time I did, it could probably cost me my job. But holy hell if I didn’t give a shit.

  For her, I didn’t care if it cost me everything.

  Even though he was gone, my body still thumped with adrenaline as I turned to my girl who watched the blank TV with an empty stare.

  “Jac?”

  Her gaze whipped to mine.

  “You okay?” My hands cupped her shoulders.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said tightly. “They can say whatever they want. Won’t stop me from winning.” Her nonchalant shrug didn’t fool me.

  No ‘Thank you’. No nothing from my warrior who always needed to be the strongest person in the room otherwise everyone else might think she’s weak.

  The tension in my shoulders shifted from anger to frustrated defeat as my arms dropped to my sides. My head tipped back for a second, the bright white ceiling looking nothing like the heaven I was sending up a silent prayer to.

  “I don’t care how long it takes, Cinderella,” I said roughly as my lips thinned into a line. “One day, you’re going to get it through that steel crown of yours that me standing up for you, fighting for you, doesn’t make you weak in comparison. This isn’t a competition where if I win, you lose; where if I’m strong, you’re weak. That’s not how this works. I don’t defend you because you need me to, I do it because I need to.”

  Her gaze fell momentarily to the floor as she crossed her arms.