by Sarah Morgan
“Forest Lodge has a great view, but my place is better. You’re going to love it. I’ve put you in the back bedroom. It faces the forest. Jess made the room up for you while I was teaching my final class.”
He glanced at Jess for confirmation, but she wasn’t looking at him.
Had she forgotten?
“Jess?”
“Mmm?”
“You made up the room, right? Because if you forgot, I am selling your skis and enrolling you in after-school history club.”
“I made up the room! Come on, Luna, let’s take Brenna to her new home.”
Brenna picked up her jacket and slid her feet into her boots. “This must be so inconvenient for you so close to Christmas. Don’t let me stop you doing any of the stuff you’d normally do.”
“Last year was my first proper, permanent Christmas here so we’re still making stuff up. I want lots of decorations but Dad says the house is already a mess, so I’m still working on that.” Jess dragged a wriggling, writhing Ash toward the door. “We’re having a real tree, though. We’re going to choose it soon. You can come. We could go after race training.”
“If there’s enough light.” Tyler opened the door and pushed the dogs out into the cold. Jess followed, and he was about to step after her when Brenna put a hand on his arm.
“Are you sure this is all right? Would you be honest?”
“I’m always honest.” But that wasn’t true, was it? Right now, staring down into those soft dark eyes, he wanted to say things that he knew would change their relationship forever. Because of that, he stepped back. “What are friends for? Maybe we’ll watch a movie tonight or something.” He knew he had to do something to take her mind off the way she was feeling, because seeing her this upset was killing him. “After you’ve cooked me dinner.” He chose his words to goad her, and was relieved to see misery replaced by a dangerous gleam.
“You think I’m cooking you dinner?”
“Of course. You’re the girl. I’m the boy. I get to sit down and watch football with a beer. You get to cook. You and Jess can decide between you who cleans up the kitchen.” His words had the desired effect. Roused from her state of inertia, she stooped and scooped up snow.
“I have one thing to say to that, Tyler O’Neil.”
He told himself that a snowball in the face was worth it to hear her laughing. But of course it didn’t stop at that because both dogs decided to join in as well as Jess, and before he could put a stop to it they were all soaking wet and covered in snow.
Ash hurled himself at Brenna, and she went down on her back, pushing the dog as he tried to lick her face. “Get him off me!”
“Sorry about that.” Tyler hauled the dog off by his collar and then dragged her to her feet. “Dana is going to help Jess train Ash.”
“I wish her luck with that.” But Brenna was still laughing as she brushed away clumps of snow from her jacket. “I might need a shower before dinner which, by the way, I’m not cooking unless you want to be poisoned.”
“I was kidding. Élise promised to send food over, although her exact words were something like ‘don’t get used to it.’” The scent of Brenna’s hair reminded him of summer flowers, and he had to work extra hard not to look at the soft curve of her mouth. Fighting a tug of lust, he stowed her case in the trunk.
She was his friend. He was going to help her out, and helping out didn’t involve pushing their relationship into something he’d been careful to avoid. This was one relationship he was determined not to mess up, and the only way he could be sure of not messing it up was to leave it alone.
* * *
“THIS IS YOUR BEDROOM.” Jess pushed open the door. “It looks over the forest and the lake, and it’s next to Dad’s.”
Something in the way she said that made Brenna turn her head, but Jess was trying to stop Luna from scrambling onto the bed. “The dogs aren’t supposed to be upstairs so we have to be quiet about it.”
Brenna put her case down. “I thought your dad said I was having a room at the back.”
“Did he?” Jess sounded vague. “I’m sure he said this one. It has the best view.”
Brenna looked at the wall of the bedroom and imagined Tyler sleeping on the other side. Ideally, she would have preferred a little more distance, but she wasn’t in a position to complain, was she?
“This bedroom is lovely.”
Huge windows stretched up to the vaulted ceiling, and ahead of her stretched the lake, the forest and beyond that the mountains. The large bed was draped in warm green and cool cream, and a rug covered part of the hardwood floor. Not masculine, exactly, but unfussy. The way she preferred things.
Lake House had stood abandoned and uninhabited on the Snow Crystal land for decades until Tyler had decided one day that despite his nomadic lifestyle, he needed a permanent base of his own.
Secluded and set on the most remote part of the resort, Lake House had been the obvious choice and he’d set about restoring it whenever he was home, with occasional help from his family.
Never one to deprive himself, Tyler had installed a large wraparound deck, the same outdoor hot tub as the lodges and added a private dock where he kept a couple of kayaks in the summer.
Downstairs, the living room had the same soaring ceilings and stone fireplace as the lodges, but the floor space was considerably bigger. He’d taken advantage of that space to build a state-of-the-art media room and he’d converted the basement into a well-equipped gym.
“How was school today?” Brenna opened her case and transferred the contents to the drawers by the bed. The exception was a dress, her only dress, which she hung up carefully in the wardrobe.
It was black and made of a stretchy fabric she knew flattered her shape. She wore it every time she needed something smarter than ski pants or sweats, which fortunately wasn’t very often.
“I like that dress, but black is for a funeral.” Jess forced Ash to sit. “You should wear blue. The same blue as your hat. You look pretty in blue.”
“I hardly ever wear the black dress, so I can’t justify a blue one and anyway, I don’t want to accumulate more luggage. It’s easier this way.” Easier to move on when she had to, and she was fairly sure now that she was going to have to. This idyll couldn’t last for long, especially now she was living in such close quarters with Tyler. She sensed it was going to get awkward pretty quickly. “So which is your room?”
“I’m at the back of the house. I look over the forest.” As Luna lay down on the floor, Jess sprang onto the bed and crossed her legs. “I like it. There’s a tree right outside my window. I can climb out if I want to.”
Like father, like daughter.
Brenna, who had climbed out of her bedroom window at home more times than she cared to remember, decided that a lecture would be hypocritical. Beginning to understand Tyler’s dilemma, she tried a different approach. “Your dad is pretty easygoing. If you want to leave the house, you could use the front door. He’s not going to stop you, and you’re less likely to break a bone that way.”
“I like climbing trees. Mom would never let me do anything like that because she thought it wasn’t ladylike.”
Brenna pushed ski socks into a drawer. Talking about Janet Carpenter was one way of turning a bright day dark. “Do you speak to your mom often?”
“Every few weeks. It’s a pretty awkward conversation.” Jess wrapped her arms around her legs. “She isn’t interested in hearing about my skiing, and she hates everything to do with Snow Crystal so I can’t talk about that. If I mention Dad she almost hangs up, so I spend the whole time trying to find things to say that don’t involve him or skiing, which is pretty tough when you live in a place like this.” She scraped her hair back from her face in a universally teenage gesture. “I guess I’m a major disappointment. I’ve never been what she wants.”
> “I’m sure that’s not true.” Brenna’s mouth was dry. She didn’t want to talk about this. She couldn’t. It made her heart race and her stomach churn. She wanted desperately to change the subject, but that wasn’t fair to Jess.
“According to my mom, I’m too much like Dad. You don’t know her, but—” Jess frowned “—do you know her? It isn’t like Snow Crystal is that big a place, and you must have been at school at the same time.”
Brenna pulled a couple of T-shirts from her suitcase. “I knew her a little.”
“I wonder why she’s never mentioned you? She was older, so I guess your name never came up.”
Her hands were shaking. “That’s probably it.”
“You’re going to love this room. After twelve years living in Chicago, it’s like heaven to look out on the forest.” Jess picked at a thread in her sock. “Sometimes I sleep with the window open so that I can breathe the air. At school I try and sit by the window, too.”
Brenna slid the T-shirts into a drawer. “Are things any better?”
“At school? No. It’s like being in a cage. Was that how you felt?”
“Some of the time.” All of the time. Brenna opened another drawer. “How are the other kids?”
“Annoying, mostly.” Jess avoided her gaze. “Are you nearly done? Because we should go help Dad cook. He can make a real mess if he’s left on his own. Even the dogs won’t touch his food.”
“One more minute.” Brenna pulled out the last of her clothes and thought back to a conversation she’d had a few weeks earlier. She’d picked Jess up from school, and the teenager had been visibly upset. On the drive home she’d been unusually silent. It was that miserable silence that had induced Brenna to tell her a little of her own experiences at school in the hope of encouraging Jess to open up.
It hadn’t worked, but the way she’d listened and the questions she’d asked had convinced Brenna that something similar might be happening to Jess. If that was true then she wanted to help.
“Now I’m staying here for a while we should be able to ski together a bit more often, if you’d like to.”
“I’d love that! Thanks. I want to win everything this season. I want to make Dad proud.”
“He’s already proud, Jess. He loves you.”
“I know he loves me, but you know Dad. With him you either win or you lose.”
“There were plenty of times when he lost as well as won. It isn’t all about winning.”
“He says that’s the whole point. No one competes to come second. Can we watch skiing together tonight? I want to watch some of the World Cup runs and analyze technique.”
“You should ask your dad to do that with you. He’s good at seeing what people are doing wrong.”
“He won’t.” Jess’s voice was flat. “He never watches skiing.”
“Well, he’s busy and—”
“It’s not because he’s busy. He watches football, baseball, basketball, ice hockey—any sport that happens to be on TV. But not skiing.”
Brenna paused, a sweater in her hand. “Never?”
“Never.” Jess gave an awkward shrug. “I guess it’s hard for him. I shouldn’t have told you. He probably doesn’t want either of us to know.”
“I— You were right to tell me.” Aching for him, Brenna stuffed the sweater in the drawer and pushed it closed. “Does he ever give you a reason?”
“Yes, but after a year of excuses you realize there has to be something else going on. I want to ask him, but I don’t want to make it worse and anyway, I’m just a kid. I guess he wouldn’t want to talk to me.”
“You’re a great kid. He loves you,” Brenna said softly, “but he’s not the type of guy who finds it easy to talk about the way he feels.”
“I know. Macho man and all that.”
“Not only that.” Brenna wondered how much Jess knew about Tyler’s life. “When he was on the ski team, it was hard for him to be private. There was always someone taking photos or pushing a microphone in his face. People printed things whether he’d said them or not, so he learned not to say anything.” It had made her mad—furious—to read some of the lies they’d printed.
“He might talk to you, especially now you’re here all the time. He trusts you. You understand him, and you guys have been friends forever.” Jess slid off the bed. “I hope he does. He should talk to someone. I think it’s driving him nuts. That’s why he nearly murdered that reporter this morning. The guy was stupid enough to ask him how it felt to not be able to ski competitively anymore.”
“He asked that? How do you know?”
“Kayla told me. She was furious because apparently she told the guy ‘not to ask anything about his career or his family’ and he did both. He was lucky Dad didn’t bury him in an avalanche.” Jess winced as a crash came from the kitchen beneath them. Ash whimpered and slid under the bed for cover. “We should go, before he breaks everything or poisons himself.”
Brenna followed the teenager downstairs.
They were all so busy, so stretched trying to save the resort, that none of them had given enough attention to how being here and not being able to ski was affecting Tyler.
They walked into the kitchen to find him crashing and cursing as he pulled out pans. Food was spread out over the counter, and Brenna raised her eyebrows.
“I thought Élise was providing dinner.”
“She was—” he sent her a look that would have started a fire without a match “—but apparently I not only have to cook it, I have to reheat parts of it, too. It would have been easier to call for takeout.”
“But not as healthy.” Jess took the frying pan from his hand. “I’ve got this, Dad. You sit down and enjoy a nice, relaxing drink with Brenna.”
She made it sound as if they were on a date, and Brenna’s heart gave an extra bump.
Why did this feel so awkward?
Tyler waved a hand. “There’s steak—”
“I know.” Jess was patient. “You fry it. It’s not hard.”
“You’re vegetarian.”
“That was last year.”
“Right.” He lifted the same hand and dragged his fingers through his hair. “There’s a sauce.”
“...Which needs to be heated, but not boiled or it will curdle.”
Tyler stared at her. “Since when did you turn into a chef?”
“Since Élise gave me a few lessons.” Looking pleased with herself, Jess tipped oil into the pan and waited for it to heat. “She said that basic cookery is a survival skill, and as I’m living with you I’m going to need all the survival skills I can get.”
“She said that? Charming. That’s the last time I help Élise with her skis.” Tyler tipped salad onto plates. “Brenna, there’s beer in the fridge. Help yourself. It will numb your taste buds for whatever is about to exit that frying pan.”
He was treating her the way he always treated her. The same way he treated his brothers.
There was no reason to feel uncomfortable.
“It’s going to be delicious.” Jess flipped one of the steaks awkwardly and it landed on the kitchen floor. Ash crossed the room in a single bound and devoured it.
“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. An
d 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.”