by Jamie Beck
“They’re calling for snow, but you know those guys get it wrong as often as they get it right.”
“Mountain weather’s never predictable.” Trip tossed his skis in the back of his van. “So, I have to ask. Any chance you might consider my offer to partner with Grey and me once this is all over? ’Cause I think you ought to consider how long you want to live this life. Take it from me, eventually you’ll want to settle in to something more stable. I used to love not knowing where I’d end up next, or what woman might be with me. But in a few years, that’ll change. With your name, we could really build a world-class mountain expedition business. And Sterling Canyon’s a perfect town for guys like us. Even if you only came for a few months a year until you’re ready to walk away from competition, we could work something out.”
Wyatt couldn’t think about Sterling Canyon without thinking about Emma. And that gave him instant heartburn. “I don’t know. I’d always assumed I’d move on to extreme ski films or what not.”
“I never had the spotlight you do, so maybe that’s hard to give up.” Trip unlocked his door. “Maybe it’s none of my business, but that’s never stopped me before, so I’m just going to ask: What happened with you and Emma?”
“What do you mean?”
“You both play dumb, but no one believes either one of you. And let me tell you, you both seemed a lot happier back in November than you do now.”
Wyatt should be plenty happy. He’d been kicking ass on the slopes. The publicity surrounding his arrival and preparation for the competition had been mostly positive. One or two of the established freeriders talked a little trash about his ego, but he kept a lid on his temper and let it go. He’d learned that from Emma, he supposed. She’d always maintained her dignity, even in the face of disaster. Even in the face of heartache.
“Helloooo . . .” Trip waved his hand in front of Wyatt’s face. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.” Wyatt hoped to avoid talking about Emma, but Trip wouldn’t let it go.
“Here’s my parting advice. All this,” he gestured back to the mountain, “is awesome. The beauty, catching air, the element of danger—it’s a helluva rush. But it’s a solo kind of high. Now that I have Kelsey in my life, everything, even this, is better. I’m here to tell you, you can find a life that gives you all this, and everything else. Maybe you can have it with someone like Emma, or maybe not. But don’t think it’s an either-or proposition, Wyatt.”
“Old man, you’re so whipped!” Wyatt joked because he wasn’t ready to have a serious discussion about Emma or the future. “Get on out of here before I throw up.”
“Okay, I’m going home. Unlike you, I’ve got someone eager for my return.” He slid onto the front seat. “The offer’s always open with Backtrax. Grey’s camped out at Avery’s, and I’ve moved in with Kelsey while we build our house, so the apartment is pretty much empty. You’d have a cheap-ass place to live until something better comes along.”
“Thanks, Trip. I’ll keep in touch.”
“Good luck, buddy. I’ll be watching you on ESPN, so don’t let me down.”
Wyatt waved Trip off and then strolled to the condo he was sharing with Mari and the guys.
He dumped his equipment in a locker and then went up to the unit to shower and rest. Once he’d dried off and stretched out on his bed, he pulled a copy of Steep and Deep from the nightstand drawer and withdrew the wrinkled envelope from its pages.
Wyatt,
I imagine someone like you can’t fathom how someone like me could get to be my age and still be plagued by insecurity and fear. How could you, when you fear almost nothing? You, who turned family hardship on its head and became a world-class athlete—who pushes past fear to pursue your passions—couldn’t possibly relate to me, who allowed myself to be swallowed up by everyone’s mistakes and expectations. Whose desire to be liked ranked higher than my need to be truly honest with anyone, including myself.
My weakness has cost me your regard, which was a high price to pay. I hope one day, when you look back on the weeks you spent here, you might remember me for more than my mistakes. You might remember that, in my own way, however pathetic and one-sided it might be, and even though I never found the courage to say it aloud, I loved you.
Emma
He folded it for the umpteenth time, tucked it back into the book, and shoved it in the drawer.
He’d thought back on that last conversation many times. Of the desperate look in her eyes when she’d talked about her past and her mom. Of the fact that she’d made him breakfast even after he’d said some truly awful things to her.
He’d been following Emma’s book since it launched, convinced that she’d planned to leak his name in order to sell it. She could’ve thrown him under the bus without revealing her real name, but she hadn’t. Even her Pinterest board had some male model posing as Dallas. That silly name still irked him, but not as much as it had at first. The character might physically resemble Wyatt, but the similarities pretty much ended there, thank God.
Her book had earned a bunch of positive reviews in a short time. Readers loved Dallas. Emma’s sex scenes were damn hot, too. It made him feel a little weird to think of how many people might be getting a charge out of those scenes that had been more or less ripped from his life. Then it made him smile to think of how people would be shocked to meet Emma in person. No one but him would believe she had it in her to write those things.
So far, Mari had kept her promise not to tie him to the book. If any of the crew had whispered the truth to anyone, it hadn’t gone anywhere. It seemed Wyatt would not be caught up in some kind of embarrassing sex scandal, and Emma would continue to live two lives—the public one and the private one.
He couldn’t deny missing her. He could even admit he’d overreacted that night when Mari spilled the beans. Could admit that, although Emma had been dishonest about some important stuff, it didn’t erase all the good she’d done for him and his brother. For his family, and for so many other people in her life.
Lies or not, she still was one of the kindest people he’d ever met. One of the sexiest, too, despite her uptight clothes and attitudes.
But he couldn’t imagine investing more time, more of his heart, in a woman who lived her life in fear. She’d been wrong in her note. Wrong to say he didn’t understand fear. He understood fear just fine. But he wouldn’t buckle to it. It wasn’t in him, and he couldn’t partner with someone who let fear dictate her choices.
So he’d let go of Emma.
Emma made her way toward the competition fences. She’d overheard others guessing the larger crowd today was due to Wyatt’s presence. Freeriders never achieved the same level of fame as gold medal slopestyle boarders, mostly because freeriding wasn’t part of the International Games. Apparently, Wyatt’s former fame followed him and cast a bigger spotlight on this event.
Some speculated that he wouldn’t have it in him. But Emma knew Trip believed otherwise, and Trip wasn’t a guy who’d overestimate another man’s ability.
She scanned the crowd, wondering if Ryder and Mrs. Lawson might have come. Given Mrs. Lawson’s negative opinion of the sport, and Ryder’s desire for distance, she wasn’t surprised when she didn’t see them there. She did see Mari, Buddy, and Jim, who’d taken a position higher up on the slope, with their cameras aimed and ready.
Emma hadn’t warned Wyatt of her decision to come, so she stayed down near the announcers rather than risk a run-in with Mari.
Truthfully, the pros and cons of coming still banged around in her head. He’d been furious with her, but six weeks had passed. Part of her hoped his anger had softened, at least enough to say good-bye with less ferocity. Another part hoped he’d even be glad to see her in the crowd. That maybe her coming here would show him that what had happened between them wasn’t a lie at all.
Emma watched other competitors tackle the course while waiting impatiently for Wyatt’s turn. She’d only ever seen him compete live that one year in Aspen, but he�
��d always been fluid on video. In contrast, many of the guys here lacked his finesse. She suspected this would bode well for Wyatt’s score, but then again, she knew little to nothing about this sport.
A flurry of activity and raised voices told her Wyatt was up next. She edged closer to the finish line in order to get a better view. With binoculars in hand, she found Wyatt up at the starting gate. His helmet and goggles hid his gorgeous face, but she recognized his jacket.
Her pulse hammered beneath her skin and her mouth went dry from anticipation. She sent up a quick prayer for his safety and then held her breath when he hucked over the edge of the first cliff.
Bouncing on her toes, her jaw clenched as she watched him tackle the terrain. Near the top, he kept things controlled and straightforward, sailing over cliffs and threading through chutes with clean landings and razor-sharp turns. As the pitch became less severe, the old Wyatt started showing off for the crowd with some acrobatic jumps that a few others had tried but not executed as well.
He flew past the finish line and swooped into the corral near where she stood. Her cheeks hurt from the huge smile that broke across her face. He’d done it. He’d done exactly what he’d planned on doing, and her heart soared. She hugged herself, so glad she’d come and been part of this exciting moment in his life. He might not care, but it meant everything to her to share in it with him, even from afar.
Wyatt whipped off his goggles and waved at the onlookers and judges, his signature smile in place . . . until he saw her.
His hand stilled above his head and his smile faltered, almost as if he’d seen a ghost. For a minute, she regretted coming. He certainly didn’t look pleased. Stunned, perhaps, but not happy.
She wouldn’t cry. She’d told herself not to expect him to be happy to see her. Told herself that he’d probably view her arrival as another ambush. Still, tears clogged her throat. But she wouldn’t let fear or doubt make her turn and run either. That old Emma was dead. New Emma would face the music, one way or the other. Uncertain of what to do, she gave him a thumbs-up.
Wyatt seemed to remember that all eyes were on him, so he smiled as he spoke with the reporter waiting at the staging area. Within another two minutes, he walked off the course and ditched his equipment by the fence.
Standing still, she watched him approach. “You did an amazing job. I don’t know anything about scoring, but I can’t imagine you not ranking in the top three.”
“Why are you here?” No friendly greeting. No hint of any emotion other than surprise. No interest in discussing the competition.
“To support you. I didn’t . . . I know you . . .” She sighed and glanced at the ground. “I couldn’t not come. I wanted to see you take this step. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He stood still, but even with his gloves on, she could see his hands clenching and unclenching.
Seconds stretched on. Wyatt saw Mari and the crew coming their way. “Mari’s going to need a quick interview for the film.”
“Of course. I’ll let you go. It’s good to see you again. Congratulations on a fantastic run.” She yearned to touch him, hug him, hold him tight and not let go. Instead, she tucked her hands in her jacket pockets.
He hesitated, looking torn. “Can you hang until this is all over?”
“I’d planned to wait and see if you qualified.”
“Don’t leave until we have a chance to talk.”
“All right.” She watched him amble away and let out the breath she’d been holding.
A little while later, Wyatt’s triumphant smile dominated the podium when he took second place at his first-ever freeride competition. He’d done it. He’d transitioned from one sport to another and was on his way to the next round of competition.
That thought made Emma both joyful and sad. He’d be traveling all the way to Europe if he kept up this level of performance. That meant more chances to get hurt or worse, and less opportunity for them to be anything more than a memory.
Mari sidled up to Emma before Wyatt got off the stand. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Not sure why. As you know, I’m full of surprises.” Emma folded her arms, bracing for an onslaught.
“Yes, you are.” Mari glanced over to where Wyatt was being interviewed. “He looks happy now, and I suspect it isn’t only because of his success today.”
Emma had thought about Mari often over the past several weeks. Her feelings had run the gamut from hatred to, well, dislike. Yet Mari had respected Wyatt’s wishes and kept Emma’s secret. She’d been looking out for Wyatt, and maybe wasn’t quite the self-centered bitch Emma had pegged her to be from their first meeting.
Emma aimed to be gracious. “Thank you for keeping the truth about the book out of this film.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for him. The media fallout from that could’ve distracted and derailed him.” Mari stared at Emma. “There aren’t any more skeletons, are there, Emma?”
“None. At least, none that affect Wyatt.” Emma smirked, enjoying toying with Mari.
Wyatt caught up to them then and quickly dismissed Mari. “Emma, I’m starving. Can you meet me at Django’s in forty-five minutes? Find us a quiet table while I shower. We can eat and talk.”
Dinner? Dinner had to be a good sign, didn’t it? Her heart skipped a beat. “Sure. I’ll see you in a bit.”
An hour later, Wyatt joined her just as she was finishing a large glass of Cabernet. She’d grown a little braver in the past few weeks, but she hoped the wine would give her a little extra courage tonight. Wyatt hadn’t seemed like he wanted to lay into her earlier, but she also had no idea what to expect.
He looked handsome now, showered and shaved. Around the inn, he’d mostly worn sweatpants and hoodies. Tonight he wore dark denim jeans and a moss green sweater that set off his hazel eyes. His wavy hair was combed rather than tangled.
Wyatt’s gaze roamed her face for a minute. Perhaps he, too, was a little nervous and uncertain.
“I read the book.” Wyatt’s gaze continued drinking her in.
“Oh?” She bit her lip. Now it was her turn to be shocked. He’d read her book. She couldn’t imagine what he’d thought of it, or her. Rather than allow anxiety about his disapproval keep her quiet, she asked, “Did you like it?”
“I was glad to see that Dallas isn’t much like me after all.”
“No, he isn’t.” Oddly, calmness settled over her. He knew the full truth about her and the books. Her worst fear had come to pass; yet here they were, conversing like grown-ups. Now there was nothing between them, at least, not from her side of the table. A giddy sort of relief shot through her, or maybe it was just the wine. In either case, she was finally free to be completely herself with him.
“But Ella . . . she’s a lot like you.”
He’d noticed. That surprised her. “Not a lot. Just a little.”
“Enough.” Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, a crooked grin emerged. “Especially in some of those sex scenes.”
If he could joke, maybe he didn’t hate her. Maybe he would finally forgive her. Her heart swelled with hope. “Write what you know, or so I’m told.”
He chuckled, then the waiter arrived to take their order. Once he’d left them alone, Wyatt leaned forward, his expression chagrined. “I owe you an apology for some of the things I said that night.”
“You had a right to your anger. I lied.” She shrugged.
“Yeah, but I went too far. I felt cornered.”
“Let’s agree that we both made mistakes and call it even. The important thing is that you believe I never intended to hurt you.”
“I can see that now.” He cocked a brow and smiled. “I almost feel bad that you didn’t use my name to help sell more books. Although it looks like you racked up a bunch of nice reviews on Amazon, so maybe you didn’t need my help.”
Emma laughed. “Well, had I pimped your name, maybe I’d be a New York Times bestseller already.” Then she leaned forward, her words weighted with
sincerity. “But what happened in Aspen, and at home, was private and personal. Not for public consumption.”
“Agreed.” He fiddled with his napkin.
An awkward silence ensued, so she filled it by deflecting. “How’s Ryder?”
“He’s good. He’s all in with the pottery thing. I think he even has a girlfriend, although he doesn’t give her that label.”
“And your mom? Are things better there, too?”
“A little.” He sat forward and spoke in low tones. “That’s all thanks to you. I see that now. All those little disagreements we had in November changed me for the better. You made me look at things differently. Made me see the bigger picture. I want you to know that the time we spent together meant something to me. It wasn’t just some fling.”
Her pulse beat wildly. She couldn’t have wished for much more than those powerful words, and yet he’d said it all in the past tense, meaning tonight must just be a sweet good-bye. Swallowing the tiny lump forming in her throat, she said, “I’m glad.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I still can’t believe you came here today. Where are you staying?”
“I’m not.”
His eyes widened. “You’re not driving all the way home tonight, are you?”
“I’d planned on it. Of course, now it will be a late drive home.”
His mouth fell open. “You made an eight-hour round trip just to watch me?”
“It was worth it.” Emma smiled, glad for the fact she’d acted boldly, even if this would be their final good-bye. “Besides, I needed a break from the inn.”
He stared at her, his hazel eyes warming. “And here I was thinking I kind of missed it.”