by Taylor Hart
There would be no way Will could know how much his words meant to her. She honestly didn’t remember Zeke complimenting her except right before he wanted to be intimate. He’d never made breakfast for her.
Tara stared at Will with attraction and gratitude. Tall, blond, handsome, blue-eyed Will Kent. The Kent men sure had a mold. “So … who have you really been dating recently?”
He seemed surprised by the question. “No one.”
She sighed. “Right.”
“I haven’t,” he protested. “Since my shoulder thing, I just haven’t been interested.”
She knew it must be a big thing for him. “We’ll come back to the woman arena, but how is it? For real.”
“Off the record, it aches.” He put his arm in the air and did a circle motion, and he winced. “But there’s not crunchy cartilage. There’s nothing damaged. I think I hurt it, I’m not denying that, but I could play. I could definitely play well.”
There would be no arguing with him; she could see it in the way his blue eyes had gone dark. “I believe you.”
“At least someone does. Getting hurt is a dicey business in my profession.”
“Yes, it is.”
He put his chin in his hands. “So tell me more about dork face.”
Letting out a laugh, she pulled in a long breath. “What do you want to know?”
“All of it.”
She shook her head. “We had the same friends in college. We were good friends. About three years ago, he got really interested in me. We started a PR firm together and he got even more interested. I thought he loved me.” She blinked back her emotion. “But when we got married, it was like … I was just convenient.”
“That’s stupid.”
She shrugged. “I’ve been second-guessing myself, and I realize that I’m just pretty much pathetic.”
He put his hand over hers. “No mean-talking to yourself.”
The gesture caught her off guard.
“I mean it.” He lifted a surly eyebrow.
“Okay.” Tara swallowed. She wished she hadn’t noticed his bulging muscles beneath his stretchy shirt and his pine-scented cologne. “You really were pretty amazing yesterday.”
He snorted, lifting and lowering his shoulder. “Nah, it was a lot of fun.”
“Yes, it was.” Leaning back, she put her hand on her stomach. “I’m so full. Thank you. It feels really good.” Her contentment was a nice contrast to how shaky and uncertain she’d felt a while ago in the bathroom.
A huge smile crossed Will’s face. “So, since you are kinda stuck with me the next three days …”
Tara felt a spike of nervousness. It felt like he was planning something. “Yes?” Why had she agreed to the whole four-day thing? Oh, right. Because she was pretty much desperate to pay her bills.
Will stood. “Skiing. Skiing up in Frisco today, what do you say?”
Will knew she loved skiing. One winter they’d taken a ski class offered through the high school; all you had to do was rent the skis, and the resorts actually let the students go for free.
He pointed at her. “I know you want to do this, Lighthouse, so don’t overthink it. Let’s just get in the car and head up there.”
It was only nine in the morning. With the drive, they could be on the slopes by eleven-thirty. She stood and grinned, feeling perfect. “Hold on. Be right back.”
She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and went into the bathroom, Googling if it was safe to ski during pregnancy. Everything she found said you could do it if it was early and it was something that you normally did. She loved to ski; she tried to get up to the slopes at least once per month in the winter.
Coming out of the bathroom, she grinned at him. “If I have to spend the day with you, Kent, it may as well be in fresh powder.”
He fist-pumped the air. “That’s my girl.”
Tara bristled. “Will, I told you, I’m not—we’re not getting back together. This is just part of the deal you wanted for closure or whatever you said, but I’m not getting back together with you.”
Abruptly, he moved around the table and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her in.
The strength of this man was daunting, but she pushed back. “Will.”
He tightened his grip around her, staring into her eyes and flicking a piece of hair out of her face. “You might be able to keep your distance from me physically. And I respect that.” He released her, and a grin flashed back over his face. “But you won’t be able to keep yourself from falling back in love with me, Tear Bear.” He turned on his heel and moved out of the room, laughing. “Because I was there when you kissed me yesterday.”
Chapter 10
Will stood on top of Copper Mountain Snow Resort, a huge mountain of powder below him, and thought that life didn’t get better than right now.
Tara was next to him. They’d done what he’d wanted—they’d hopped into the car and driven up to the resort, rented clothes and equipment, and now they were having the time of their lives.
Tara let out a loud “Wahoo!” and then took off, yelling back, “Catch me if you can, Kent!”
A surge of adrenaline rushed through him. This woman was even better than he’d remembered. She’d obviously kept up her skiing skills, because she was leaving him in the dust on some of the more intense runs. Her skills were sharp and she wasn’t afraid at all. It’d been her idea to do this triple black diamond.
As she navigated the icy slopes, carefully staying on the sides of the moguls, he laughed at the freeness she exerted on the slopes. She’d always been coordinated. She’d been a cheerleader, and he’d loved watching her do the half time shows in high school a little too much.
Will thought of more memories: Tara waiting for him after football practice and them making out behind the bleachers, and the way she’d always chewed sugarless bubble gum and he’d teased her she couldn’t allow herself to have the real deal. They’d been thicker than thieves. She’d been his world. Now, it was surreal to be here with her, skiing together before Christmas.
His mind flashed to how they used to talk about being together, about so many things as they would lie in the back of his truck and stare at the stars by the river, his music blasting. All the things he hadn’t thought about in a long, long time.
They skidded to the bottom of the run and she laughed, smacking him in the arm playfully. “Not bad. Not bad.”
He tore off his goggles. “What have you been doing? Training for the Olympics?”
“Uh, no.” She gestured to the lines for the lift they’d just taken. “Want to go again?”
He shook his head. “You’ve proven you can whip me. How about an easier one?”
She pointed to the other side. “Okay, this is a one diamond, much easier. Let’s do it.”
It wasn’t too busy, and before long the ski lift carried them back into the air.
Will admired the huge smile on her face. Even if he didn’t get his plan … well, strike that. He could technically already tell the guys he’d found his old love and kissed her by Christmas Eve. That was already done. But he wanted more—he wanted another shot at this woman.
She laughed and pointed beneath them. “Do you see that mom and dad holding the little girl’s hand? With the pink pom-pom hat on? Ah, so cute.”
Yes, this was way more than a bet. It was strange to feel so many of the same things when he was with her, as if they’d just been transported from the past to this moment.
“So why didn’t you …” He broke off. No, that was a stupid question to ask her.
“What?” Tara laughed again at the little girl, who’d fallen. The parents helped her stand. “Ah, kids are so cute in ski clothes.”
He tried for a more benign question that might lead to the answers he wanted. “So why didn’t you become a teacher like you talked about?”
She turned to face him, her expression going blank. “Oh, right. I guess I did want to do that, didn’t I?”
“Like, that was kinda your dream, wasn
’t it? Or to be a social worker?” He knew she wanted to help foster kids like herself.
She shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know. I went to college, got into business, discovered I couldn’t really make that much money in teaching. I interned for a PR firm in Denver my senior year, and I loved it. I worked for them for a couple of years.” She frowned. “Too bad I started my own with an ex who stole all my clients.”
Wow, he’d sure tanked the energy on that. “Sorry to bring him up.”
For a while neither of them spoke, and he thought about how, even though he thought he knew her, he had a lot to learn.
Tara blew out a breath. “What about you, Will? I read an article that said you didn’t really care for life in the Navy.”
She’d read an article about him. He chuckled. “How come I’m flattered to hear that you kept up on me?”
Their eyes held, and he could swear he saw tears misting. “I never quit thinking about you, hoping for you, while you were in the Navy.”
The sincerity of her words struck him in the chest. “Thank you, Tear Bear.” He put his hand over hers. Both were gloved, but he could still feel the electricity between them.
She shook her head and pulled her hand back. “Will, I don’t know what you think this is, but it would never work out. So please quit trying to grab my hand.”
Awkward. “Fine, I’ll stop.” He tugged his hand back but couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Why didn’t you ever have kids? It’s all you could talk about.”
Will caught the immense hatred raging in her eyes before she looked away. He could tell he’d just touched on the wrong chord.
They were almost at the top, and she scooted to the front of the seat. “Will, you should know one thing.”
“Okay.” He prepped himself to get off.
She took the goggles off her forehead and put them on her face, then slid off the chair, turning to yell back. “You don’t know me anymore!”
Chapter 11
After they’d skied and skied and skied and Tara felt like dropping, Will suggested lunch in the lodge. As she sipped on hot cocoa and felt her face burning from getting warm, she looked at the cheese sandwich and soup she’d pretty much inhaled in front of him. “Thank you for lunch,” she said. “That was delicious.”
He’d insisted on paying for everything, and she didn’t have the energy to fight him. Plus, this was his thing—spending a couple of days with her, so she didn’t worry about it.
It’d been touch and go for a few runs, as she felt like she’d been skiing away not just from Will’s questions, but her demons. If he only knew she was pregnant. What would he say?
Part of her felt like a fraud, because she could tell he wanted … wait, what did he want? Mystified, she sipped the cocoa and then stood. “I think I’ll go sit by the fire on the couch.”
Will stood too. He’d already paid the ticket and they’d been chitchatting about non-important stuff. “The hot chocolate’s almost as good as the stuff you make.”
At his words, she thought of all the times they’d sat in her foster parents’ little kitchen and he’d watched her make her “concoction,” as she called it. She sat on the couch and Will sat right next to her, putting his bootless feet up on the coffee table. The snow had actually been coming down harder, and lots of skiers had come inside to take a break. Everyone was sprawled out in the large lounge area.
Tara breathed in deep. Once again, his smell of pine washed over her. “You liked my concoctions.”
He laughed. “I wasn’t too picky, but your hot chocolate was the best.”
She let herself relax and lean back. Will had sat close to her, too close, but what good would it do to insist Will scoot over? He was huge, and she figured they were leaving extra space on the couch for others.
He grinned at her, and she felt the same butterflies thrum through her. He had that perfect day’s worth of growth on his face. “You were a good cook, especially for the limited ingredients you had to work with.”
She grunted, thinking that the family she’d lived with in Greeley hadn’t been horrible. Truthfully, they were better than most. Both worked nights. It was obvious to her that she was a paycheck, but they didn’t bother her. The guy wasn’t a creep, and for the most part she could do whatever she wanted. “We had to be creative.” She stared into the fire.
He put his hand against her cheek. “You did good, Tear Bear. You did real good for yourself.”
Part of her relished his touch and wanted to lean into it. His hand was cool, and it almost felt like Will belonged in her world again. But she leaned away. “I told you not to touch me.”
He pulled his hand back. “So you did.”
She turned to him, smiling. “You did well for yourself too, cowboy.”
He grunted. “Nice.”
She’d forgotten that nickname, the one that she’d used to bug him after he’d gotten bucked off a horse the summer before senior year. She giggled stupidly, remembering so many things she had forgotten.
He nudged her. “What?”
She swallowed and kept laughing, almost choking on her hot chocolate. “Remember how that guy tried to help you back on that horse and it turned into one of those circus stunts with the clowns with you crawling on his shoulders and then falling back?”
“Yeah.” He pretended to be ticked off. “And I almost broke my neck, thank you very much for caring.”
She laughed harder, thinking about how his brother had seen it too and teased him mercilessly. “Zane would not let that go.”
He laughed. “I think Sloane probably wrote a song about it.”
Tara thought of how the brothers were together. So close, so rowdy, so fun. They’d all brought life into hers.
“You don’t have a look like that on your face without telling me exactly what you’re thinking.”
She grinned. “Your brothers were some of the most obnoxious, fun guys I ever met.”
“You’re telling me. In fact, I was just with Tom in Maui. He won a trip.”
“Really?” She’d read the article in People on all of them, but it was interesting to remember them as just neighborhood kids and compare them to ten years later—the famous Kent Brothers. “How’s Tom?”
Will pumped his eyebrows. “You’ll never guess who showed up, in Maui, out of the blue. Emily Times.”
Tara raised an eyebrow. Of course she knew Emily. They were only a year apart in school. She’d known how Emily had taken the ring and then given it back. “What?”
“Yeah, I guess … well.” He leaned forward and put the hot chocolate mug on the coffee table by their feet, then leaned back. “I guess that’s maybe why I started thinking about you.”
This was news. She dealt with the only part of that statement she knew how to deal with. “So how—what, uh, are they still in Maui together?”
Will nodded. “She was attending her boss’s wedding and her loser boyfriend dumped her right before, so she actually asked Tom to be her wedding date.”
This mystified her. “What?”
“I guess it’s going good,” Will laughed. “Tom keeps it all close to the vest, but I would not be surprised to see them get back together.”
She asked a couple more questions about Emily, discovering she’d gotten her law degree and worked in New York. “So will she move back west to be with Tom?”
“I don’t know. Honestly, I think Tom would be an idiot to give her up. Whatever the cost.”
“Even if he had to give up firefighting in Park City?”
Will shrugged. “What’s the cost of true love?”
“Honestly, I don’t know if I’ve thought about true love in a long time.” It made her sad to realize how cynical she’d become.
Will chewed on that for a moment. “Maybe you should.”
Tara had to nip this in the bud. He needed to understand what made her cynical. “Hmm, let’s see. I was married for six months, and two months ago, as you know, I caught Zeke in bed with the maid. B
ut the really sad thing is that I think Zeke actually married me because of the tax breaks.” She blinked and told herself not to cry. “So I guess that’s where I’m at.”
They were both quiet. She leaned forward to put her empty mug by their feet, suddenly exhausted.
“I’m sorry.” He nudged her, and she found herself leaning back into the couch.
“Will, I don’t want to talk about my disillusionment with the love establishment any longer, if you don’t mind.”
A soft laugh came out of him. She turned and realized he’d leaned back and closed his eyes, too. “The love establishment, huh?”
She could tell he wasn’t pressing her for any more answers. Deep tiredness weighted down her limbs. “Are you okay if I rest a bit? You can go ski without me.”
His warm, huge hand settled on top of hers. “Sure, Tear Bear. Take a rest.” He sighed and leaned back. “But I’m not disillusioned with love. In fact, I might just refuse to let you be.”
“Will.”
“Yes?” He opened his eyes.
“Please don’t keep trying to resurrect something that has been over for a long, long time.”
Chapter 12
Will watched the fireplace in front of him, hypnotized by the fire. He turned and stared out the large lodge windows at the huge snowflakes coming down and the skiers in line to go up the lift.
He felt annoyed that she’d said that. Fine, maybe she was right. Maybe all of this was for naught.
Tara was out, and she let out a cute, soft snore. Oh, how she would hate that, he thought, grinning. Maybe he should film it. He pulled his phone up, then put it down. Nah, Tara needed a reprieve from jerk men. So he’d lie low on doing stupid stuff.
At one point, her head had dropped against his shoulder and he could smell the light citrus scent of her shampoo. It was good. He leaned in and sniffed deeper. Really good.
Dang, what was happening to him? He couldn’t stop having feelings for an old flame who clearly wasn’t in the mood for any semblance of a relationship. The whole bet had felt like a Hail Mary. Like there was no way the pass would make it to the end zone. Sigh.