Maybe This Christmas (18 page)

“They live boring lives stuck behind a desk. They all envy and admire you. They want to rub shoulders with a gold-medal-winning downhill skier and try to absorb some of that adrenaline and thrill-seeking secondhand. Be yourself.”

She wondered if that was bad advice. Telling Tyler O’Neil to
be himself
was asking for trouble, and his next words confirmed she wasn’t alone in thinking that.

“That’s interesting, because Jackson told me to try hard
not
to be myself for an hour.” His eyes were ocean-blue so that even in the depths of an icy winter, it made her think of summer. Looking at him sent warmth rushing across her skin and seeping into her bones. It weakened her limbs and melted her tension.

“I disagree. I think they’re interested in the real you.”

“Apparently, the real me is a loose cannon.” His mouth tilted at the corners. “I’m wild and dangerous.”

And she wanted wild and dangerous so badly she could almost taste it.

“
Jackson is still mad at you for telling that group last week that they should probably pick a different activity.”

“They were dangerous.”

“You made them feel inadequate. They wanted to give up and go home!”

“They were inadequate. In my opinion, they should have given up and gone home! I don’t understand how I’m to blame for that. They lied about their experience, which, I could point out, is dangerous not only for them but also for me. Apart from almost boring me to death, I nearly froze to death waiting for them to catch up.”

No matter how down she was, he always made her laugh. “We’ll make people do a test run before skiing with you. I’ll see you later.”

“Hey, Bren—” he caught her arm, his voice ultracasual “—I saw you talking to Josh. What did he want?”

How was she supposed to answer that? “He wanted to take me to dinner.”

“Why?” A muscle flickered in his jaw. “Why would he take you to dinner?”

The fact that he would even ask that question hurt her already hurting heart.

You’re not his type, Brenna. Flat chest and brown hair isn’t his thing.

“I know it’s not something you notice, Tyler, but underneath my ski gear, I’m a woman.” The hurt made her snappier than she’d ever been with him before. “I go on dates. I have feelings.” And those feelings were so raw, so close to the surface, it was beginning to scare her.

His fingers tightened on her arm. “I know you’re a woman.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “I notice.”

“Do you?”

It was a question she’d never asked before. A topic neither of them had ever broached.

They stared at each other, and she knew that by speaking up, by saying those few words, she’d crossed an invisible line.

Their bodies were close but not quite touching, her awareness of him so acute she could hardly breathe. If she took one more step she’d be pressed against that hard, powerful body, and she wanted it more than anything. Wanted every sexy bad-boy inch of him. She wanted to breathe in the male scent of him, be crushed under his weight, be tangled up with him.

All she could think of was sex. Her head was filled with it, and her senses were on fire.

She turned her head and looked at his hand, still locked around her arm. They rarely, if ever, made physical contact, and she stared down at those strong fingers and imagined how they’d feel against her bare flesh. He’d be skilled, she knew that.

But she was never going to find out exactly how skilled, was she?

She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead he stared at her, his breathing shallow.

He was obviously trying to work out why someone like Josh would want to date her.

She wished she could go back to bed and start the whole day again. “I need to go,” she said wearily but instead of letting her go, Tyler tightened his grip.

“He asked you to dinner, but you told him no, right?”

Her heart pumped. “I told him yes.” Suddenly, she was tired of it. Tired of being told what she should and shouldn’t do. Tired of keeping her mouth shut when her mind was shouting out loud. “He’s picking me up eight o’clock Tuesday.”

CHAPTER NINE

“
T
EQUILA
. S
TRAIGHT
UP
.”
Brenna thumped her head down on the bar and missed the look Kayla sent Élise.

“You heard the woman.” Kayla winked at Pete, the barman. “Give us the bottle and three glasses. This is girls’ night. We’re celebrating.”

“I’m not celebrating. I’m commiserating.”

“Who with?”

“Myself.” Brenna lifted her head and dug her fingers in her hair. “Forget the glass. Pour it straight down my throat and do it fast. I want to be unconscious.”

“That bad?” Kayla waited for Pete to fill the glass and pushed it toward Brenna. “So—are you going to tell us what’s going on?”

“What makes you think something is going on?”

“Er—apart from the fact you don’t usually drink spirits?”

Brenna picked up the glass, knocked it back in one mouthful and then choked as it set fire to her throat. “That’s disgusting.”

“It’s an acquired taste, and you obviously haven’t acquired it. As a matter of interest, why did you order tequila?”

“Because it’s Saturday night, I’ve had a totally crap week and a beer wasn’t going to do it. When I see people drink tequila in the movies, they always look as if they’re having fun. I deserve to have fun, and as I’m obviously not going to have any naked-between-the-sheets sort of fun anytime soon, I thought I’d go with empty-the-bottle sort of fun.”

“How can you have had a crap week?” Élise ignored the tequila and ordered a glass of wine. “It’s almost Christmas, business is booming and you’ve moved in with Tyler. This is your dream, no?”

“If I didn’t love you, I’d kill you. Both of you. For interfering. For putting me in this position. And for the record, it isn’t my dream to have the man of my fantasies sleeping in a different bed with a wall between us.” Brenna pushed her glass toward Kayla. “Fill it up. Don’t hold back.”

“If I don’t hold back, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

“I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Don’t you dare ever interfere again.” She drank and felt the warmth spread from her throat down to her knees. “My life has been a nonstop disaster since you made me move in with him.”

“Bren, you’ve only been living with him for a couple of days. Disaster can’t happen that fast.”

“It can in my life. I’ve crammed a lot into those couple of days.” Brenna pushed her glass toward Kayla. “More.”

“No.” Kayla pushed the bottle back toward Pete with a meaningful look. “What happened?”

“I visited my parents. And because this place has a communication system more sophisticated than anything developed by NASA, they had already heard the happy news about my new living arrangements.”

Kayla winced. “Oops.”

“
Oops
doesn’t cover it. I had a lecture on all the reasons I’m stupid to move in with Tyler. I’ve given my mother your phone number. From now on the two of you can talk about it together and cut out the middle man.” She picked up Kayla’s drink and knocked it back. “That’s me, by the way. I’m the middle man. I’m the person everyone ignores.”

“
Merde,
what have you done to her?” Élise leaned across and peeled the glass away from Brenna’s fingers. “Enough, or you will fall on your face in the snow.”

“At least she only does that when she drinks. I do it sober.” Kayla gestured to Pete. “Can we have a couple of sodas?”

Brenna lifted her head. “I don’t want soda. I want tequila.”

Concerned, Pete handed her a soda. “Everything all right, Brenna?”

“No.” She slouched on the bar with her chin on her palm. “My life sucks.”

“That’s the tequila talking,” Kayla said hastily. “She drank it too fast. We’re fine here, Pete. You have a ton of people waiting for you down the other end of the bar. Don’t let us keep you.”

“I’ve known Brenna since she was a little girl. I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Everyone has known me since I was a little girl,” Brenna said gloomily. “Everyone has an opinion about how I should live my life, and everyone expresses it apart from me. Go right ahead, Pete. Tell me what I’m doing wrong. Then call my mother and commiserate. Or maybe call Ellen Kelly, and you can bypass the phone altogether. Beam it across the nation. Houston, Brenna has a problem.”

“I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong, Bren.” Looking nervous, he removed the bottle of tequila and took himself down to the far end of the bar.

Kayla grinned. “You scared him.”

“Good. Maybe it’s time to shake people up a bit. I’m sick of everyone thinking they know who I am and what I need. I’m tired of being the girl next door.”

Élise ran her fingers down the stem of her glass. “In that case you could go home right now, walk into Tyler’s bedroom naked and help yourself to some of the between-the-sheets sort of fun.”

“I haven’t had anywhere near enough tequila for that, and anyway I’ve already embarrassed myself enough for one day.” Brenna sipped the soda and pulled a face. “This doesn’t make me feel better.”

“You’ll thank me tomorrow when you don’t feel as if your head is being crushed by Thor’s hammer.”

“I’m going home to have an early night. That way I won’t have to listen to the sounds of Tyler in the shower.” Brenna slid off the bar stool and swayed. “Maybe I should have stuck to beer.”

“No, you’re fun after tequila.” Kayla picked up her coat. “I’m buying you a crate of the stuff for Christmas. I’ll walk you home.”

“Thanks to you
home
is a few steps down the trail, and I can do that by myself.” She dragged on her coat only to find her friends on either side of her, like bookends. “What?”

Élise slid her arm through Brenna’s. “We’re walking you to the door.”

“You’re holding on to me because you’ll fall otherwise.”

Kayla smiled. “That sounds about right. Come on, tequila girl, let’s get you home.”

They crunched through the snow, Kayla sliding and grumbling, while Brenna wondered why she’d ever thought a drink with her friends might solve the problem.

Her head spun, her limbs felt shaky and she was scrabbling in her bag for her key when Tyler opened the door.

He was wearing a blue sweater pushed up to the elbows and a pair of jeans that made it obvious why her mother thought him dangerous. No woman in her right mind would look at him and see anything other than trouble.

He looked from her to her friends. “What have you done to her?”

Brenna growled. “Nothing. This might come as a shock to certain people, but I make my own decisions about how I live my life. Good night, girls. Thanks for the lift home.” Disengaging herself from their grasp, she stepped forward while behind her, the girls melted tactfully away.

Keeping her eye on the lights of the hallway, she tried to walk past him but lost her balance and fell against his chest.

Strong hands closed around her shoulders, and she heard the breath hiss through his teeth. “Brenna, just—”

“There is not enough room in this doorway for two people.” She was wedged against him, and she could feel the pressure of his thighs through her coat.

“No.” He gritted his teeth. “There isn’t.”

“I think we might be stuck.” She leaned her head against his chest. “Oh,
God,
you smell good.” She felt his fingers tighten on her arms.

“Brenna—”

“If you are going to lecture me, don’t. I have had enough of being told what I should and shouldn’t do. I am done with other people knowing what’s good for me.”

“I’m glad to hear it, but why don’t you tell me all that inside so that we don’t both get frostbite.” He eased her inside and closed the door on the cold and the dark. “How much have you drunk?”

“Why? Are you going to lecture me on that, too?”

“No. But I’ve never heard you speak like this before.”

“You’re always telling me to be more assertive and speak my mind. This is what I look like when I speak my mind. I can drink what I like, I can work where I want to work, I can have sex with anyone I want to have sex with. I don’t need public approval.”

There was a brief silence.

A muscle flickered in his jaw, and then he released her.

“What you need,” he drawled, “is coffee. I’ll make some.” He strolled into the kitchen, and she watched, her eyes glued to those strong, athletic legs.

“Ty, do you like the women you have sex with?”

There was a crash as a mug splintered on the floor, followed by uncensored male cursing. “What? What did you say?”

“I asked if you like them.” She slid onto the chair and put her head in her hands, watching him. “Or is the only qualification needed to climb into your bed blond hair and big boobs?”

“What exactly did you drink tonight?”

“You have to answer my question before I answer yours. Hey—” she felt a rush of pride “—did you hear that? I was assertive. I stood my ground. I refused to roll over. Are you impressed?”

His jaw tightened. “The answer is yes, I have to like them. And there haven’t been anywhere near as many as—”

“Tequila.” She beamed at him. “I drank tequila. It was disgusting.”

He scooped up the broken pieces of china and made coffee. “Maybe you should stick to beer next time.”

“I’ll drink what I feel like drinking. So you like them, but don’t you ever want to see them again? I mean, you have sex and then that’s it?”

He put a mug of black coffee down in front of her. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Why not?”

“My sex life isn’t something we normally talk about.”

“I’m done with
normal.
Who decides what’s normal anyway? Let’s push the boundaries. I want to talk about your sex life.”

He sat down across from her. “If we’re pushing the boundaries, you can start by telling me why you’re going out with Josh.”

“Uh, no—” she shook her head and then wished she hadn’t because it made the dizziness worse “—first you have to answer my question.”

There was a brief silence. “I don’t want commitment, so yes, I try and pick women who feel the same way.”

“Do you ever get it wrong?”

“Sometimes.”

“Then they call you up and tell you they’re in love with you?”

“I try not to let things get that far.”

“So there hasn’t been a single woman you’ve liked enough to want to spend time with when she has her clothes on?”

He stared at her across the table. She kept waiting for him to look away, but he didn’t. The silence stretched on and on, but still he looked at her until her heart started to pound and her stomach felt squirmy. She was fairly sure what was going on in her body had nothing to do with the tequila.

“Ty? Are you going to answer?”

He stirred. “It’s your turn.”

“I can’t remember what you asked me.”

“Why are you dating Josh?”

“Isn’t it obvious? He’s hot. He’s also strong, steady and reliable. He should be perfect for me.”

“Should be?”

“Well, there is that tiny little drawback that I’m not in love with him, but most people don’t let that bother them so hey—” she took a mouthful of coffee “—I’m not going to let it bother me, either. Sex without emotion. I can do that.”

His jaw was firm. “No, you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know you. You’ll hate yourself.”

“Maybe I won’t.”

“You need to cancel that date.”

“I have no intention of canceling that date.”

He stood up suddenly, and the chair scraped on the floor. “You can’t have sex with him, Bren.”

“Are you telling me what I can and can’t do?”

“I’m offering friendly advice.”

“You don’t look friendly. You look as if you want to kill someone.”

“I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Funny—no one wants to see me hurt, but they’re the ones doing the hurting. If I want to have sex with Josh, then I will. And it will be my decision. But if you’re worried about Jess, don’t be. We can go back to his place.” She slid off the chair. “I’m glad we had this conversation. I feel I know you better. I’m going to bed now.”

“I’ll help you upstairs.”

“No need. I can manage.” She walked to the stairs and paused. “Do me a favor, Ty?”

“What?”

“Don’t take a shower tonight. I don’t want to think of you naked on the other side of the wall.”

* * *

S
HE
WOKE
WHEN
the alarm went off, feeling as if her head was trapped between two boulders. To make things worse she had a clear memory of everything that had happened the night before and all the things she’d said.

Oh, crap....

She didn’t want to remember what she’d said.

After glugging down water and swallowing painkillers, she showered and made it to the mountain in time for her first lesson. The sun was blinding, the rays cutting like a blade through her pounding skull as she struggled through the morning.

“So as you complete the turn you need to extend, release, then plant your pole—” She was in the middle of a private lesson when her radio crackled. The slightest noise was agony and she winced. “Excuse me for one minute, Alison.” It was Patrick, one of the newest instructors, asking where she was. “I’m at the top of Moody Moose.” With a throbbing headache. She was willing to bet she was moodier than any moose.

She held the radio as far away from her ear as possible and listened as he outlined the problem. For a moment she forgot about the pain crushing her brain. “
What?
What are you doing on Black Bear?” She turned away and lowered her voice so that she couldn’t be overheard. “It’s one of the toughest runs in the resort. Why would you take a bunch of six-year-olds up there? They’re babies!”

His voice crackled over the radio as he explained that one of the kids had gone the wrong way, and the others had followed. “They saw a blue sign and thought it was a blue run.”

Brenna didn’t waste time pointing out he should have had firmer control of them.

She glanced across the ridge, knowing it would take her less than five minutes to get to the top of the run where Patrick was trapped. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to help you.”

Thankfully, Alison was a confident skier and together they traversed to the top of Black Bear.