A Magical Christmas. Elizabeth Rolls
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couldn’t sweat any more than he was already.
It was having Brenna living here. Under his nose. Walking around in bare feet wearing nothing but a strappy top and clingy yoga pants.
And talking about sex.
He dug his fork into the chili, surprised by how good it tasted. “You’re a genius, Jess.”
The moody, sullen expression vanished and was replaced by a smile. “You made it. All I did was adjust it a little bit.” She glanced at him and grinned. “Okay, I adjusted it a lot.”
Somehow they made it through dinner, although he had no idea what they talked about.
Brenna had the sense not to mention school again and instead turned the conversation to skiing.
Still, Tyler could think of nothing but sex.
He ate quickly, decided against a second helping and swept his empty plate off the table. “Excuse me, ladies, I need to go take a cold shower.” He stood up, banging against the table in his attempt not to look at Brenna.
“Now?” Judging from the look Jess gave him, he might as well have announced that he was taking up ballet.
“Yes, now. Cooking is sweaty work.”
“Brenna and I are going to watch skiing. Will you join us?”
“Sorry, sweetheart, not tonight.” Even the rush of guilt wasn’t enough to make him give a different answer. “I have to help Uncle Jackson with that snowmobile.”
Jess cleared the bowls. “After your shower?”
He opened his mouth but was unable to think of a single, logical explanation, mostly because there wasn’t one. Logic had left the room along with self-restraint. “Last time I checked, a man was allowed to decide when to take a shower in his own house. Thanks for rescuing dinner. I’ll see you later.”
In the end, he abandoned the cold shower in favor of leaving the house as fast as possible. He grabbed his jacket, whistled to Ash and stepped out into the cold.
He walked along snow-covered trails toward the barn where they kept the snowmobiles and the rest of the outdoor equipment.
Jackson was lying on his back, fiddling with the snowmobile and using words that would have made his grandmother frown. Words that grew worse when Ash bounded over and landed on him.
“I thought you were training that stupid dog.”
“It’s a work in progress.” Tyler strolled around the snowmobile. “So far there’s not been much progress.”
“You’re not kidding.” But he ruffled Ash’s fur before he pushed him off. “So how was dinner?”
“I was cooking it, which should give you a clue. Fortunately, Jess came and rescued the food.”
“That explains why you’re alive. So if you’re not here to tell me you’ve poisoned yourself and only have an hour to live, what are you doing here?” Jackson tested the snowmobile. “This machine is dead. I changed the plugs, but they’re full of fuel when I take them out.”
“Well, at least you know you’re getting fuel, so that’s not the problem. Sounds like the inlet needles are sticking to the carbs.” Tyler pulled off his gloves and crouched down next to his brother.
For the next hour they worked together on the snowmobile, and then Kayla walked in holding two mugs of coffee. Maple, their miniature poodle, was at her feet.
“I thought you might—oh, hi, Tyler! I didn’t know you were here.”
Ash spotted Maple and bounded toward him.
“Sit!” Tyler bellowed, and Ash screeched to a halt, hesitated and then sprang again, but the brief delay had given Kayla a chance to put the mugs on the floor and scoop up Maple.
“Get that animal under control!”
“Believe it or not that is the under-control version.” Tyler stood up and pushed Ash’s rump to the floor. “Sit means your butt engages with the floor.”
Ash wagged his tail, his gaze fixed on Maple.
“The dog wants to play.” Jackson stood up and wiped his hands on a rag. “He’s not going to hurt her.”
“Maybe not intentionally, but Ash playing is enough to end Maple!” Kayla held the little dog close but Maple wriggled. “Do you have a death wish or something? I brought you coffee but most of it is on the floor now.”
“So I see.” Jackson leaned forward and kissed her slowly, taking his time.
Ash whined.
“Cover your eyes, buddy,” Tyler muttered, “this is only the beginning.”
Kayla eased away from Jackson. “How are you finding living with Brenna?”
Difficult.
And she was the one who had put him in this position.
Knowing that, he gave her the answer he knew she wouldn’t want. “We’ve barely seen each other.”
Predictably, Kayla’s face fell. “Really?”
“We’ve been out doing our own thing. I was a bit worried she might be lonely so it’s good to know she’s seeing Josh.”
“Seeing Josh?” Kayla’s appalled expression made it clear she didn’t know. “Since when has she been seeing Josh?”
“How would I know? Her love life is her own business.” He gave her a pointed look, and she had the grace to blush.
“Tyler—”
“The two of them have been friends a long time. Josh is a good man. I’m happy for her.” He wasn’t happy at all. And he wanted to savage Josh. “This thing is fixed so I should be getting back.”
He picked up his gloves, whistled to Ash and left Kayla to stew.
“WATCH IT AGAIN.” Curled up on the sofa next to Jess, Brenna pressed the remote. “Look at the timing of the pole plant. Do you see?” She played it again and then again, talking Jess through it, showing her how small changes could make a big difference to her technique and speed.
“Play one of Dad’s winning downhill runs.”
Brenna tried to think of an excuse. The last thing she wanted to do was watch Tyler in slow motion, but she couldn’t think of a reason that wouldn’t draw attention so she dutifully stood up. “Do you know where he keeps those DVDs?”
“They’re stuffed into the back of the cupboard on your right.”
Brenna tugged open the cupboard.
Five crystal globes sat on a shelf crammed between books, a few games and various DVDs. She picked one of them up reverentially. “This is where he keeps them?” It was obvious they’d been pushed there, rather than displayed, and yet they represented excellence in his sport.
“I warned you he was messed up about the whole thing. Most people would keep a World Cup trophy out where everyone can see it, not Dad. He hides them away. I guess he doesn’t want to look at them. Never talks about it, either, even though it gives him serious bragging rights.”
Brenna smoothed her hand over the surface of the coveted globe. Winning one would be a dream for most skiers. Tyler had five, two for winning the overall World Cup title, three of them for individual disciplines, in his case, the downhill. “For me, this means more than the Olympics. To win this you have to ski at a high standard consistently and across disciplines.”
“Makes it all the