by Jamie Beck
Emma never failed to throw right-left-right jabs. “Wow. Give me a second while I reset my jaw.”
“Sorry.” She kissed his chest. “Earlier Mari and Jim were editing the opening of the film. I overheard your mom say something that made it sound like she blames you for Ryder’s accident. It didn’t sound like she’d ever kept those feelings secret. I hope she hasn’t convinced you that it’s your fault.”
Wyatt shifted uncomfortably. “She’s not wrong. I got Ryder into the sport.”
“He knew the risks, just like you do.”
“It’s not the same. I loved it more than anything. No one encouraged me to get involved. But Ryder’s interest didn’t burn as hot. If I hadn’t dragged him along, he might now be living a normal life somewhere, making pottery, with a nice girl keeping him warm at night instead of dealing with a serious disability and an uncertain future.”
“What happened is tragic, Wyatt, but it’s not your fault. And if you feel that way, why are you so determined to drag him back into it with you again?”
“I think he needs a goal, and I want to reconnect with him. To rebuild the bond we had. In that way, boarding was the best time for us.” Wyatt snorted. “Besides, he can’t get hurt on the sidelines.”
“Unless the bad memories depress him, or he sees you get injured. Trust me, that avalanche rocked him.”
Hell, he didn’t like that remark, but he couldn’t exactly dismiss it either. Emma smoothed her hand over his chest and abdomen, apparently lost in thought for a moment. He started to relax, but then she asked, “Is the guilt what’s driving you back to competition?”
“Apparently Ryder’s convinced you it is.”
“No. You used to glow when talking about snowboarding, but now it’s different. You’re driven, but you don’t look like you love it the same way.”
“How can you say that when you just met me?”
Her eyes blanked for a second. “I’ve seen you, Wyatt. Interviews, YouTube videos, ESPN clips.”
“Most of that stuff is filmed in the heat of the moment. I’m sure if I win a qualifier, you’ll see the ‘glow’ again.” Of course, he might be exaggerating. Ryder’s accident had changed everything for him, including his love for the sport. He still enjoyed the recreation of it, but a niggling sense of fear colored his outlook on competition. Not that he wanted to admit that to anyone.
“Why’d you switch to freeriding? Wouldn’t it have been safer to stick with slopestyle?”
“I like a challenge.” He hoped the offhand remark fooled her. “Why all the questions?”
“I don’t want to see you get hurt. I suppose I agree with Ryder—it seems like you’d be safer doing what you know.”
“I’m old by slopestyle standards. The new guys have better jumps. I’d been out of training for two years, so it would’ve taken a lot just to get back to where I was, let alone compete at the higher level. Freeriding has a more mature pack of competitors. And I do like a new challenge.”
Emma propped up on an elbow and twisted a bit of his hair around her finger. “Wyatt, do you ever feel fear?”
Normally he’d dismiss the question out of hand with a quick no. But something about her body language and tone suggested she had her own reasons for asking. That his answer would have meaning for her, and not just because she was curious about his career.
He snuggled her a little tighter until she lowered her head to rest against his shoulder, so he wasn’t looking her in the eye. “I used to love those showy, acrobatic jumps, but the truth is . . . the truth is Ryder’s accident spooked me. I knew there were risks, but never really believed anything bad would happen. Ryder’s accident proved me wrong. And slopestyle courses aren’t forgiving. So I guess fear was a small factor in my choice to transition. I won’t let fear keep me out of the sport completely, but freeriding doesn’t hold bad memories, so it doesn’t mess with my mind. In that way, it seems safer.”
“Except for the avalanche.” She’d said it as a statement, not a question, and he couldn’t deny it anyway.
“Yeah.” He stared at the ceiling, remembering lying in this very bed that afternoon in a mild panic, questioning everything. Then Emma had introduced him to Trip and given him another chance to make things right for his family. Reliable, quiet, steady Emma.
She popped up and stroked his cheek. “Tell me one last thing. How do you make yourself go out there and face your fear every day?”
“Why do you sound so invested? Is there something you’re afraid of?”
“Maybe.” She tucked her head back into the crook of his shoulder.
“Now you’ve got me curious.” He rolled on top of her and pinned her to the bed, aiming to be just playful enough to coax an answer from her. “What scares you, Emma?”
She turned her face away, keeping still and quiet, and then met his gaze. “Teach me how to overcome it and maybe I’ll tell you.”
He smiled at her sassy answer. “I knew you had secrets.”
“Everyone has secrets. As long as they don’t hurt anyone, I think it’s okay to keep them.”
He thought for a moment about whether he agreed. Part of him disliked the idea of her keeping a secret, but the other part knew he had no real right to demand answers. “I suppose I can see that logic.”
He sensed an easing of the tension in her body, which only made him more curious. “Listen, the only way I know to conquer fear is to make yourself do what scares you most.”
Her green eyes went wide. “But what if the worst thing you fear comes true?”
“For me, that would be death, in which case I won’t be around to deal with the consequences.” His joking way of handling things fell flat.
“Or paralysis, or TBI, or . . .”
He rolled off her again, feeling antsy. “Don’t try to convince me to quit competing.”
She reached across him, her breasts brushing against his chest, and dipped her finger in the honey. Then she traced her sticky finger around his lips. “Would that be so awful . . . to be like the rest of us?” She kissed him, nipping at leftover honey on his lip. “To live a normal life?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never lived a normal life.” When her eyes dimmed, he added, “But I could get used to this kind of normal. Being with you every night. That part would be nice.”
She didn’t say anything, and he could tell she was thinking about something. She did that—retreat inward—often. Curiosity prickled through his brain like sparklers on the Fourth of July.
“Emma, don’t you have any big dreams?”
Her brows pinched together so briefly he might’ve imagined it. “I’ve always been someone who is more comfortable with my feet on the ground. Big dreams can lead to big disappointments, after all.”
“So can wasted opportunities and regrets.” Again she fell silent, so he pressed on. “Big dreams don’t have to be like mine. You mentioned something before about wishing you had money to fix up this inn. Maybe your dream is simply restoring this place and making it a ‘must stay’ for tourists?”
“That would make me happy.” Yet her voice didn’t sound particularly happy. “I know it would ease my mother’s worries, and I’d like to honor my grandparents’ legacy, too.”
“The way you just said that makes it sound like this inn isn’t your dream, though. Fixing it up would only make you happy because it would please your mom. What about you? What do you want?”
“Pleasing my mom and honoring my family legacy does make me happy, Wyatt. That’s a big part of who I am.”
He didn’t know why he thought she wasn’t being completely honest. Whatever secret fear she had must be why she held back. Maybe he could help her meet this one goal with a few well-placed tweets about her inn and her cooking. If she realized he could be a good ally, she might let him help her with her secret dreams, too.
Emma’s sad little smile kicked him in the gut, so he dipped his fingers in the honey and smeared it along her neck, determined to kiss her and hold her and make he
r feel good again.
He couldn’t walk away from competition any easier than she could face her secret fear—the one he was now determined to discover. But that could wait until later, he thought, as his tongue trailed down her stomach.
Chapter Fourteen
“Emma!” Andy’s bellow snapped her out of her daze.
She blinked in the sunlight, temporarily disoriented by the crowds and activity at the annual Adaptive Alpine Ski Day, which kicked off ski season on the mountain. Andy, a certified adaptive ski instructor, always volunteered to work at this event, and Emma supplied plenty of baked goods and helped manage the crowds.
For the past few moments, however, she’d gotten sidetracked by another bit of plotting—mentally scripting dialogue between Dallas and Ella. She had to finish the darn sequel! Her agent had been waiting for it, and Emma had been stalling.
“Sorry. Did you ask me something?” She reorganized the food trays at the table where she’d been daydreaming.
“I thought Wyatt was coming to sign autographs, but the day is almost over. Have you heard from him?”
“Why would I hear from him?” Even as she feigned casual indifference, she wished she would hear from him soon. Trip had decided to graduate Wyatt to tackling “super gnarly” runs in preparation for the qualifiers at Crested Butte. Naturally, this led Emma to envision hideous images like Wyatt hurtling into a tree or careening over a cliff wall and smashing against its face.
Andy cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. “Emma, ever since Kelsey’s party last weekend, I’ve caught you and Wyatt giving each other hot looks. Then there was that night when Jessie visited but didn’t stay over.” He rested his hands on his hips. “I’m pretty sure you ignored my warnings about him.” When referring to Wyatt, Andy’s tone had shifted from its prior worship to something closer to disdain. Was it because of her? “So you don’t fool me with this attitude.”
If Andy had noticed her and Wyatt’s behavior, surely Mari had, too. The fact that Mari hadn’t confronted her or Wyatt with suspicions sent a chill down Emma’s back.
Choosing to ignore Andy’s petulance, she said, “Wyatt will be here. Settle down and have some cookies.”
Andy snatched two chocolate chip walnut cookies. “Jeremy’s dying to meet him, and I don’t want to let him down. He’s got the best attitude. I love that little dude.”
Jeremy Snyder, a local nine-year-old boy with spina bifida, had first worked with Andy last year. Andy hadn’t been confident that the boy’s parents would let them work together again after Andy’s recent legal trouble, but they had. Thank God, because Emma knew Andy’s heart, and pride, would’ve been broken if they’d snubbed him. It had taken nine months, but some people were finally willing to cut Andy some slack. Better late than never, she supposed.
Emma wished she could tell Andy that the past couple of weeks had been among the best of her life. That her mother’s absence had given her the freedom to explore a side of herself she’d needed to know. That spending every night with Wyatt had changed her life, and not just because of the intense sexual connection.
But she couldn’t tell, partly because he seemed so upset by the idea, but moreover because he’d pity her. He would, and he’d be right to do so. Because Andy knew that Wyatt would leave town soon, and that Emma wouldn’t be part of his life once he’d gone. Wyatt would find a new woman by the time he got to Europe, while Emma would remain here, with her mom, at the inn.
Of course, she had her upcoming book launch to enjoy. She might even have a few fans by Christmas. This should be an exhilarating time. Sadly, the zip of pride she’d experienced when first holding her author copy in her hands no longer coursed through her.
It would be easy to blame the secretiveness for diminishing her enthusiasm, but she suspected something worse at play. When she’d created Dallas, she’d turned him into an athlete Alpha-hole. Domineering, competitive, sexy—all traits readers craved. Everything she’d assumed Wyatt Lawson to be when she’d met him years ago.
Then Wyatt reappeared in her life in the most unexpected way. Other than the superficial resemblance and career, Wyatt had real quirks, sensitivities, and worries that were nothing like Dallas. And now Dallas—until recently, her fantasy hero creation—seemed like a flimsy, clumsy version of the real man. An insult to the courageous, caring, exciting man Wyatt was. Rationally, her feelings made no sense—after all, Dallas was a fictional character. But their shared face still triggered turmoil.
Jeremy appeared and tugged at Andy’s jacket. “Andy, I’m ready to go again.”
“Okay, buddy.”
“Where’s Wyatt?” Jeremy glanced around. “Did I miss him?”
“Nope. He’s still training. I bet when we get back down, he’ll be here to sign that autograph for you.” Andy took the T-shirt Jeremy wanted to have signed and stuffed it in the boy’s coat.
“Okay.”
Andy nodded at Emma and swiped a cookie for Jeremy. As they wandered off, Emma glanced at her phone. Three o’clock. No texts. The lifts would close at four. Hopefully Wyatt would get back in time . . . and in one piece.
Within fifteen minutes, Emma caught sight of Mari, Ryder, and Jim, and a welcome rush of relief coursed through her. If they were here, then Wyatt hadn’t been injured.
Ryder saw her and wandered over. “Can I take one?”
“Of course.” She bit her lip, like that might help her hold her question inside. It didn’t. “How’d Wyatt do today?”
“Fine.” Ryder barely looked up. Instead, he focused on the cookie, almost as if intentionally blocking out the crowd.
“Ryder, is this event too much stimulation for you? It’s so bright, and there are a lot of people milling around.”
“I’m okay.” He bit into the cookie. Emma noticed him surreptitiously watch a physically disabled teen excitedly suiting up in four-track equipment.
Emma wondered whether he’d ever considered exploring adaptive equipment so he could snowboard again. For once, she kept her big mouth shut and didn’t push. Ryder had his own way of handling things, and like his brother, he’d be out of her life soon. She shouldn’t get too invested in his recovery.
The energy of the crowd shifted and suddenly the throng headed toward the base of the main run.
“Wyatt must’ve just come down with Trip,” Ryder said, watching Mari and Jim hustle up through the crowd.
“All the kids here are excited to meet him.” Emma smiled.
“Everybody loves Wyatt,” Ryder said, giving her a knowing glance.
Ryder knew. Or if he didn’t know, he had a good guess. Surely he’d been around his brother long enough to recognize the telltale signs. He must think Emma quite silly for falling for his brother, like so many others before.
“He is a showman, after all.” Emma chose to make light of it all, because honestly, what else could she do? “Let’s go watch.”
Together they trudged, in silence, across the hard packed snow. When they squeezed through a circle of onlookers, Emma noticed Jim filming Wyatt as he high-fived kids and signed T-shirts and helmets and other things thrown his way.
The magnificent mountains and blue sky surrounding him paled in comparison with his stark beauty. His teeth were nearly as white as the snow, his dark hair and warm skin tone looked so rich in the sun’s golden glow. Healthy, proud, happy.
She liked seeing him this way, which was every bit as sexy as when she saw him in private. Maybe even more so. Even Trip, who on most days was hard to miss, faded into the background when cast in Wyatt’s shadow.
Wyatt noticed Ryder at the outskirts of the crowd and waved him over.
“Hey, everyone, you remember my brother, Ryder? He competed in the Rockies eXtreme Games, too. He hasn’t had an opportunity to get back on the slopes in a while, but I’m thinking maybe you all can convince him to try again, just like you.” Wyatt smiled at Ryder, but Emma’s stomach dropped.
Ryder’s face colored—an angry shade of crimson. Thankfully his glass
es hid his eyes from the kids, because Emma would bet everything that his glare would be frightening.
She doubted Wyatt had intended to upset Ryder. Given Wyatt’s unwavering belief that the key to their happiness lay in his brother’s return to this sport, he probably thought he’d hit upon the perfect solution. Equally clear to her was the fact that Ryder might well wish his brother dead in that instant.
One oblivious preteen slapped his hand against his mono-ski. “This is fun. You should try!”
Ryder slowly faced the boy and shook his head. “No, thank you.”
He turned to go, but Emma seized his arm. Torn by the desire to ease his discomfort yet save Wyatt’s blunder, she murmured, “Ryder, Mari is filming all of this. Perhaps we should help make the best of it for now.”
“I d-don’t care.” Ryder tugged free of Emma just as Wyatt caught up to them.
Wyatt winked at Emma, then called to Ryder’s back. “Where are you going? I just got here. Help me mingle with these kids. You could be a real inspiration here, Ryder. Make a difference by showing these kids there isn’t a limit to what they can do.”
Ryder stopped in his tracks but didn’t spin around. Neither brother so much as twitched. Silence descended for awkward moments while Emma waited to see what might happen next. Unfortunately, the small crowd nearby had also been holding their breath.
“Except that there is a limit.” Ryder turned on Wyatt, his face ferocious. Emma stepped back in shock as Ryder’s voice ground out low and firm through gnashed teeth. “There is a limit. I used to be able to fly free, to jump, to flip and turn. Do you think I can do any of that in a sled, or tethered to another person? Would you really think that sounded f-fun? Or would it remind you of e-everything you lost, of everything that would never be? And I’m not just talking about the sport, Wyatt. Be a good example, you say. My life isn’t about being an example to people!”