Читать книгу A Magical Christmas - Elizabeth Rolls, Bronwyn Scott - Страница 22

TYLER SLAMMED THE front door and hung up his coat.

He waited to be assaulted by the dogs but instead was met by silence. There was no sign of Brenna or Jess.

He was wondering where they were when he heard a burst of laughter coming from the den. The door was closed, presumably to keep the dogs out.

Congratulating himself on finally having imposed rules and discipline on the household and relieved that whatever was bothering Jess at school didn’t seem to be affecting her at home, Tyler walked across the hall and pushed open the door.

“Go away!” Jess screamed and stuffed something back in a bag as Ash sprang up, barking frantically.

Tyler raised his brows. “Always good to have a warm welcome at the end of the day.”

“You can’t come in here!” Jess pushed bags under the sofa. “It’s Christmas, Dad. You have to knock on doors before you enter, not barge in.”

“This is my house. I’m allowed to barge anywhere I want.”

“Presents are supposed to be a secret! Wait there a minute.” There was rustling and muttering and finally Jess mumbled, “You can come in now.”

Accepting that grudging invitation, Tyler opened the door fully and saw Ash and Luna lying on either side of Jess like bookends. “I thought we agreed to keep them out of the den and the living room.”

“This is their favorite room.”

“Funny, because it’s my favorite room, too.” He glanced at Brenna, thinking that she looked every bit as good in skinny jeans and a blue sweater as she did in that black dress.

“We weren’t expecting you home yet, Dad. You said you had a late lesson.”

“She canceled.” His gaze flicked to the screen, and he saw an image of himself on the notorious Hahnenkamm, considered to be the most challenging course on the World Cup circuit. He remembered that particular run well. The light had been flat at the top, the visibility difficult. Three racers had fallen.

He turned away. “I assume you haven’t eaten. I’ll cook.”

“I’ll do it.” Jess jumped up. “You hate cooking.”

He hated it a whole lot less than he hated watching himself on TV.

“I’ll cook steaks.”

Ash whined and sprang to his feet, and Jess grinned.

“I swear he knows that word.”

“I’m prepared to cook for humans, but I draw the line at cooking for dogs.” But Tyler stooped and made a fuss of Ash. “You are a bad boy.”

“And you are an expert on that subject.” Jess gave him a look. “By the way, I’m staying at Grandma’s tonight.”

“Again?”

“What can I say? She has a tree and her house is Christmassy. Ours is a Santa-free zone, and the fridge is empty again. At this rate, Christmas is going to pass us by.”

Feeling a stab of guilt, Tyler raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ll go to the store tomorrow. And we’ll go and get a tree this weekend. We’ll take the snowmobile.”

“It’s probably too late. They’ll all be gone.”

“Jess, we live in a forest.”

“All the good ones will be gone.”

She stalked past him toward the kitchen, and Tyler turned his gaze to Brenna, who was unusually quiet. “Am I missing something here?”

“She’s excited about Christmas. We should decorate the house and get a tree. It’s important.” Without looking at him, she gathered up gift wrap, and he realized he still hadn’t done anything about Christmas gifts.

“So if you were writing to Santa, what would be on your list? What do you want for Christmas?”

“I don’t know. Nothing.”

“There must be something.” He pressed her. “What would you love more than anything in the world? What do you dream about?”

She sat still, a pair of scissors in her hands and a faraway look on her face.

Then she put the scissors down and finished tidying away the mess. “I can’t think of anything.”

“Yes, you can. There’s something you want, I can tell.” Whatever it was, he wanted to buy it for her. He wanted to give her something she really wanted and see her smile on Christmas morning.

“I’m not really a possessions person. You know that.”

He did know that. What she loved more than anything was being outdoors. She loved being on her skis, enjoying the beauty of the mountains. The forest. But he couldn’t see any way of giving her that as a gift. “Jess wants to decorate the house. Will you help?”

“Of course.” She put the DVDs back on the shelf. “Do you have decorations?”

“Not many. Let’s go to the kitchen and we can talk about it over dinner.”

“I’m tired. I’m going to skip dinner and have an early night.”

Tired? Tyler tried to remember what time she’d arrived home last night and whether that would have given her time to go back to Josh’s house.

“Do you want me to bring you something up? I can heat soup.”

“No, thanks. I’m going to have a long bath and then go to bed.”

Distracted by a disturbing mental vision of Brenna naked in the bath, Tyler backed away and crashed into the door. “If you change your mind, shout.”

SHE TOOK A long bath and then lay on the bed with a book on climbing, but instead of reading, she watched the snow settle on the forest, layer upon layer, piling up on branches and obscuring the winding trails around the lake. She heard Jess and Tyler leave to go to his mother’s, and then heard him return alone.

She turned the light out and tried to sleep, but her stomach growled, protesting at her decision to skip supper.

Checking her phone, she saw it was midnight. She’d missed a text from Kayla asking if she was going to join them at the main house for “girls’ breakfast.” Realizing it was days since she’d spent any time with her friends, she was about to text back and then remembered Kayla’s habit of never switching her phone off. The last thing she wanted to do was wake her and Jackson in the middle of the night.

She slid out of bed and stood for a moment, looking out the window. The snow gleamed, ghostly white. The frozen surface of the lake shimmered under the light of the moon.

Pulling on a sweater, she walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the beautiful living room with the huge glass windows that faced over the lake and the mountains.

She’d thought she could never love anywhere as much as Forest Lodge, but she’d been wrong. Lake House was perfect and Tyler, for all his apparent lack of interest in anything but skiing, had style.

The house was still and quiet, and she curled up on one of the deep, comfortable sofas and stared at the snow falling against the darkness of the night, thinking about Christmas. Thinking about the times she’d hovered near bunches of mistletoe, hopeful, thinking maybe, maybe this Christmas he’d finally kiss her.

He’d asked what she wanted as a gift, but she had everything she wanted except one thing.

Him.

She watched as the snow erased all traces of the day before. Animal tracks would be covered, branches coated in thick dollops of snow, the trails around Snow Crystal hidden under the heavy cloak of winter. This was how she loved it, smooth and untouched, before the snowplows came to clear the roads and tracks, before the sun coaxed the snow into submission.

Deciding that hot chocolate might help her sleep, she walked through to the kitchen and then noticed a flicker of light coming from Tyler’s den.

Assuming someone had forgotten to turn off the TV, Brenna walked across and pushed the door open.

Tyler lay sprawled on the sofa.

Brenna was about to creep out again when she noticed what was on the screen. It was footage of the downhill race when he’d fallen.

It was the one recording she’d never been able to watch.

She’d been there. She’d lived through the actual event. It had been the worst moment of her life.

She wanted to turn away but was afraid to move in case she drew attention to herself, so she stood, forced to relive it. His name flashed up on the screen: Tyler O’Neil, USA. She saw him preparing to launch himself out of the start gate, and her heart started to pound. She wanted to tell him not to do it. To skip this race.

Growing up, she’d often thought that what Tyler did on the slopes was closer to flying than skiing, and he seemed to be flying now as he sailed out of the gate and straight into a tuck as he took the jump that claimed so many skiers. Not Tyler. If it hadn’t been for the fact she knew what was coming, Brenna would have thought he was on his way to a faultless run.

He’d always claimed his aim was to get from the top to the bottom in the fastest time possible, and he made good on that claim, hurtling down the slope as if his skis were jet propelled.

Halfway down the course, Brenna held her breath because she knew this was the moment. She wanted to look away. She wanted to close her eyes because she knew what was coming, but she kept watching and for the first time saw the accident through the eyes of the camera. Saw the moment his body lifted into the air and tumbled, spinning, crashing until it seemed impossible anyone could survive it.

She didn’t think she’d made a sound but she must have done because Tyler turned his head.

For a few moments he said nothing, and then he stirred.

“I didn’t know you were there.” His voice was rough at the edges, and she felt as if she was trespassing. Not on his territory, but on something far more personal. His private thoughts and feelings. He hadn’t intended to share this part of him with another person. If he had, he wouldn’t have waited until the dead of night to watch it alone in the dark.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? And why the hell are you crying?”

Was she crying? She hadn’t even known. Embarrassed, Brenna lifted her hand and scrubbed at her cheek with her palm, feeling the wetness of tears against her hand.

“I haven’t watched it before.” Her voice sounded clogged. “I couldn’t. It was the worst moment of my life. I thought you were dead.”

“It didn’t feel too great from where I was, either.” His flippant tone sent her over the edge.

“Why do you always dismiss it? I know you’re hurting. You don’t have to pretend and keep it all locked inside. Maybe it would help to talk about it.”

“Nothing helps. I watch that damn footage over and over again trying to work out what happened that day. One moment I was on my way to winning, the next I was being lifted into a helicopter.”

“You’ve watched it before?”

“Hundreds of times. In slow motion. It doesn’t get any easier.”

She sank down onto the sofa next to him. “I—I didn’t know. I thought you never watched yourself.”

“I watch this run.” His tone was bleak, and she reached out and put her hand on his thigh. She felt solid muscle under her palm, felt that muscle flex and tense under her fingers. The atmosphere in the room shifted, and she started to move her hand away, but he covered it with his own, his fingers warm and strong as he held her hand there and took the comfort she offered.

This was new territory.

It was a topic neither of them had touched upon before, but their relationship no longer felt familiar. Everything had changed, and they both knew it. His confession. Her reaction.

The intimacy.

“Is it very hard for you?”

There was a brief pause, and his fingers tightened. “It’s agony.”

Although he never mentioned it, she knew from Sean that the cold made the pain worse. “Can I fetch you painkillers?”

“I wasn’t talking about my leg. I’ve learned to live with that. The other, not so much.” Still holding her hand, he stretched out his long legs and leaned back against the sofa with his eyes closed. “Pathetic, that’s me.”

She studied the strong lines of his face. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone less deserving of that accusation than you. I’m sorry you’re hurting.” She knew words were inadequate, but she said them anyway. “I’m sorry this time of year is so hard for you. I wish I could do something. I wish I could fix it.”

“It can’t be fixed.” And then he started to talk, telling her things he’d never told her, about how he struggled with calls from his teammates, how it felt to know they were still living that life, how they wanted him to fly over and join them in drinking sessions and how he couldn’t face being on the fringe of something when he used to be in the center. He talked about regret, disappointment, frustration and she sat in the dark without interrupting, holding his hand tightly as he bared his feelings.

Finally, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I can’t believe I told you all that.”

“I’m glad you did.” Wondering if he realized he was still holding her hand, she eyed the whiskey bottle. “Does that help?”

“I’ll let you know in an hour or two. Join me? I can fetch another glass.”

“No need.” She reached out with her free hand, sloshed some whiskey into his glass and raised it. “You were the best, Tyler O’Neil. But you’re also a brilliant coach. You may not be able to compete yourself, but you can help others do it. Starting with Jess. Are you enjoying teaching her or is it hard seeing her do what you used to do?” She took a sip and coughed. “That might be worse than tequila.”

He took the glass from her. “I’m enjoying teaching her, and I get a real buzz from seeing her improve. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t give anything for a chance to win one more crystal globe.”

“Why? All you’d do is push it to the back of the cupboard with the others.”

He finished her drink. “I don’t want to look at it.” He thumped the glass down on the table. “I just want to win it.”

It was a totally Tyler-like response. “Sometimes I don’t understand you.”

“You understand me perfectly. You’re probably the only person who does.” His voice was rough, and his grip on her hand was hard and sure. Then he turned his head, and his gaze collided with hers. “Don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry.”

The breath caught in her throat. “Whenever you hurt, I hurt. Whatever you feel, I feel. It’s horrible, but I can’t help it. I guess I’ve known you too long. It’s as if we’re connected.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “I’ve spilled my guts, so now it’s your turn. Tell me why you went on that date with Josh.”

She stared down at his fingers threaded through hers. If she were going to tell him the truth, now would be the perfect time. “I did it to get my mother off my back. She was worried I wasn’t dating. That I was fixated on someone else.”

“And are you?”

Her heart pumped a little harder. “Maybe.”

“So why not date that person instead of Josh?”

Her mouth dried. “He doesn’t feel the same way.”

There was a long pause. “Are you sure about that?”

He is never going to find you sexy.

Tugging her hand from his, she stood up. “It’s late. I should go to bed.” She took a step toward the door and then stopped.

She was doing it again.

Walking away whenever a conversation became difficult.

He’d been honest with her. He’d laid his feelings bare. Maybe it was time for her to do the same. Maybe this once, she should be honest.

She hesitated, knowing that once she put the words out there, she couldn’t take them back. “We’ve known each other a long time, Ty. We’ve talked about a lot of things over the years, but there’s something I’ve never told you—” she turned, because if she was going to say the words, then she was going to do it while she was looking at him “—I—I have feelings for you.”

His gaze was steady on hers. “What sorts of feelings?”

“Feelings I’ve tried to ignore. Feelings I probably shouldn’t be having. Feelings—” Oh, hell. “I love you. I’ve been in love with you my whole life. I guess—you probably already know that.”

Her confession hovered in the air between them.

For a long moment he said nothing, and then he stirred, and when he spoke his voice was husky. “I wasn’t sure. You never said anything.”

“You never talked about your accident. I guess tonight we talked about stuff neither of us normally talks about.” She backed away, embarrassed. “It’s fine. I know you don’t feel the same way. I’m like one of the guys to you.”

“One of the guys? Is that seriously what you think?” There was incredulity in his tone. “Hell, Bren, are you telling me you don’t know how hard I’ve found it since you moved in?”

Her heart was pounding because there was something in his eyes she’d never seen before.

Something she’d waited her whole life to see.

And this time she wasn’t imagining it.

This time it was real.

She tried to speak but her voice wouldn’t work properly. She could hardly breathe. “You found it hard?”

“Let’s put it like this—Josh and I may have had our differences over the years, but I’ve never wanted to kill him before the other night.” He rose to his feet, and she took another step backward, afraid of what she’d unleashed. He was the most familiar thing in her life, but nothing about this situation felt familiar.

“I’m going back to bed before one of us says something we can’t take back.”

“Too late.” He slid an arm around her waist, locking her against him while he used his free hand to stroke her hair back from her face. “Brenna.” He spoke her name softly, and his tone was one she’d never heard before.

She stood, frozen by shock as his fingers trailed slowly over her face, tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her cheek, as if he was seeing her for the first time. She felt the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of her pajamas, the hardness and power of his thighs pressed against hers, and it felt incredible.

It felt like a dream.

She didn’t want to breathe, didn’t want to move in case she did something to break the spell, to spoil what was turning out to be the best moment of her life.

She felt his jaw brush against the top of her head, the warmth of his touch against her skin and she closed her eyes because it was so close, so close, to what she’d spent her whole life hoping for.

He cupped her face in his hands and dragged his thumbs over her cheeks. “Brenna—” he lowered his forehead to hers, holding her gaze “—do you know how I felt watching you go out with Josh?”

“How did you feel?” She whispered the words, mesmerized by the look in his eyes.

“Uncivilized.” His voice was thickened. “I’ve known the guy since high school, and I wanted to flatten him.”

“You were jealous?” It shouldn’t have thrilled her but it did. She locked her hand in the front of his shirt. “That wasn’t why I did it.”

“I know.”

“I thought you didn’t— I mean, I assumed—”

“You assumed wrong.”

She licked her lips. “You never noticed me. There were days when you didn’t even look at me.”

“Yeah, those were the days I worked extra hard.” His eyes were on her mouth. “I noticed you. Every day. Turns out that when it’s something that really matters, I have more control than I thought.”

She lifted her hand and stroked his face, feeling the roughness of his jaw against her palm. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because what we have is important. We’ve been friends for years. Ours is the only relationship I haven’t messed up. I didn’t want to risk what we have by confessing that all I wanted to do was have mind-blowing sex with you.”

She was shaking. “I—I’ve never had mind-blowing sex.”

His eyes darkened. “You’re not—?”

“No!” She felt the heat flare in her cheeks. “I’m not used to talking about this.”

“So you’ve had sex, but not mind-blowing sex?” His voice was rough, the words barely audible, and she saw his mouth curve into a slow smile. “Maybe it’s time we did something about that.”

She could feel the warmth of his breath against her mouth. His lips were close enough to tease but not touch, and she stood like a bird about to fly for the first time, exhilarated and terrified.

He was going to kiss her.

Finally, after waiting a lifetime, Tyler O’Neil was going to kiss her.

Bold, terrified he might change his mind, she rose on tiptoe and closed the gap, bringing her mouth to his.

A second’s delay, a moment of heart-stopping hesitation, and then his mouth claimed hers, slowly at first and then with deep, sensual hunger. Raw, electrifying excitement rushed through her, and she moaned against his lips, opening her mouth as she felt the skilled slide of his tongue against hers.

Everything inside her melted, and she clung to his shoulders, grateful for the solid strength that kept them both upright.

She was impatient for more, and she’d thought he was, too, but he kept that side of him reined in as he kissed her slowly and thoroughly until sensation flooded every cell of her body. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the skill of his mouth, knowing that nothing in her life before had felt as perfect and right as this.

His mouth slid over her jaw, down to her neck and fastened over a pulse beating at the base of her throat. The brush of his tongue brought a moan to her throat, and she tugged at his shirt, needing to touch him, needing to feel. He had the body of an athlete, supremely fit, honed from hours of hard physical exercise, and her seeking hands encountered hard male muscle and smooth skin.

He slid one hand behind her head and brought his mouth back to hers in a kiss that was hot and explicit. She felt him, hard and ready through the fabric of his jeans, and she could hardly breathe for wanting him.

Would it be here?

Now?

She breathed him in, tasted him, touched him and just when she was ready to do anything he asked of her, he eased his mouth away from hers.

His gaze was hooded, his expression unreadable, and then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the den and up the stairs to his bedroom.

It was the only room in the house she hadn’t seen. He lowered her to the floor next to the bed, which was positioned to take advantage of acres of glass. This time she wasn’t interested in the view. Only the man.

Without shifting his gaze from hers, he slid her top over her head and then moved his hands down her body, peeling away clothing, his and hers until they were both naked. Curious, fascinated, she trailed her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, feeling the dip and swell of muscle under her fingers, exploring and discovering. She knew everything about him, but not this. This part of him had remained a secret to her. This was the only intimacy they hadn’t shared in a lifetime of friendship.

Everything about him was strong, vital, virile, from the haze of dark hair over his chest to the smooth power of his shoulders. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his shoulder, sliding her hands over his abdomen and lower, feeling his muscles flex, hearing the change in his breathing as she closed her hand over the silken thickness of him.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned and then pulled her against the power of his body and into the heat of his kiss. “Brenna, Brenna—” He murmured her name over and over again, ran the tip of his tongue over her lower lip, explored every part of her mouth until she could hardly stand because this was Tyler, her Tyler, and he was kissing her as if the world was ending and this was their last moment together.

He lowered her to the bed in a fluid movement, so strong, so sure of himself as he eased over her, the muscles bunching in his arms as he supported his weight. And still he kissed her while his hand slid over her waist, her hip and down to her thigh, missing not a single part of her. And then his mouth followed, and she squirmed against the sheets, unable to stay still as he fastened his mouth over the tip of first one breast and then the other while his fingertips slid, stroked and explored with maddening skill. Sensation cascaded from all sides until she was dizzy with the thrill of it, drowning in thick, syrupy pleasure, consumed by savage sexual excitement.

She felt him part her, felt every slow, careful stroke of those clever fingers and then his mouth as he acquainted himself with every part of her body. Shyness was brief and quickly replaced by an urgency so sharp, she was almost driven mad by it. She shifted under him, dug her fingers into that smooth, hard flesh, and he eased his way back up her body until he was looking down into her eyes.

“Tyler, please—” She’d waited so long, so long, and she wanted it to be now.

“Are you sure?” He stroked his hand over her hair, her cheek, cupped her face so she couldn’t hide from him, and she thrilled in the knowledge that his hand wasn’t steady, that his control wasn’t as absolute as it seemed.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” She slid her hand over his shoulder, behind the strong column of his neck, into his silky hair. “I’ve wanted you forever. It’s always been you. Always.” She watched, heart racing as he reached for a condom from the drawer by the side of his bed. Of course, she thought, after Janet he wouldn’t want to take the risk.

“Look at me.” His voice was a soft command, and she opened her eyes and met the blue blaze of his. Their legs were tangled; she felt the brush of rough hair against the sensitive flesh of her thigh and the solid weight of him as he lay, trapping her with the power of his body. And then he shifted position, and she felt the heat of him, the thickness and the hard pressure, and she knew there was no stopping, no turning back. This was it. It was finally going to happen, and it didn’t seem real because in all her dreams it had been him, always him, this man, and finally her dreams were merging with reality.

“Tyler—” She breathed his name again, dizzy with anticipation, drugged by sensation so acute, she felt as if she’d explode with wanting.

Her hands moved down his back, over hard muscle and satin-smooth skin, exploring every contour of his body. She felt him lift her, felt heat and power and masculine thrust as he entered her slowly, carefully, giving her time to adjust, watching her the whole time, forever changing their relationship with every intimacy he stole. She didn’t know she was holding her breath until he murmured, “Breathe, sweetheart,” and then she snatched in air, holding his gaze as she felt the thickness and power of him stretching her, filling her. She knew he was holding back. She could see it in the glitter of his eyes and the streak of color on his cheekbones. It touched her that he’d be so careful, and she lifted her hand and touched his face, feeling the roughness of his jaw against the softness of her hand.

“Tyler—”

“You’re beautiful.” He murmured the words against her mouth. “I’ve never said that to you before, and I should have. You’re so beautiful.”

She knew she wasn’t, but he made her believe it with the sincerity of his voice and the look in his eyes, and she knew she’d never feel as deeply connected to another person as she did right at that moment.

“I love you.” The words slipped out of her as her feelings spilled over, her emotions too full to be contained. “I love you so much. I always have. My whole life.”

“Bren.” He groaned her name and slid his hand under her, thrusting deep, and she held still for a moment, feeling her body tighten around the thickness of him, and then he was moving with a raw, primitive rhythm that sent her excitement levels rocketing off the scale. Wrapping her legs around him, she lifted into each thrust, felt him adjust the angle to increase the pleasure. She cried out, unable to stop herself, and he lowered his mouth to hers, swallowing the sound, taking everything she was offering so freely. He was buried deep inside her, and she moaned again because something he was doing felt unbelievably good, and she felt the hot ripples of pleasure spread through her body. She heard the possessive purr that came from somewhere deep in his throat, heard him mutter something under his breath, and then her body tightened around his, drawing him to the same place until there was no holding back for either of them and they came together, the pleasure thick and intoxicating, flooding both of them until neither could breathe or move.

He dropped his head to her shoulder, fighting for breath, holding her tightly. Her arms stayed around him. She felt slick skin and strength, the steady thud of his heart and thought dreams can come true.