“Big tough guy like me? Sure. I’ll go and arrest some folks to let off steam.”
It was typical Josh. Strong, patient and steady. It was the reason people still sent him Christmas cards even after he’d locked them up for the night.
Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with him?
Her mother was right. It would have been so much simpler.
“But I will say one thing.” Josh put his hands on her arms, and his tone was deceptively mild. “If Tyler ever hurts you, I’ll be the arresting officer.”
“My feelings, my problem.” She delivered his own words back to him, and Josh looked at her for a moment and then let go of her arms.
“Maybe. But if I see you with red eyes and I know you haven’t been peeling onions, then it’s going to be his problem, too.”
Hoping the situation between Tyler and Josh wasn’t about to deteriorate, she grabbed her backpack from the car, hurried toward the Outdoor Center and walked straight into Tyler.
“Hey—” he locked his hands on her shoulders, steadying her “—what are you running from? Fire or avalanche?”
Love.
She was running from love.
Seeing him unsettled her, coming so soon after the conversation with her mother and then Josh. Knowing that Josh was still outside, she decided it might be best to keep Tyler talking for a few minutes. She wouldn’t put it past the chief of police to read Tyler his rights.
How had it all got so complicated?
How on earth had she got herself into this mess?
By not speaking up.
She should have told Tyler she couldn’t move in with him, and she should have told her mother to mind her own business.
“Sorry. I haven’t had the greatest morning so far.”
“You had breakfast with your mom. From the look on your face, I’m guessing that went the way you were afraid it would.”
“I came away with indigestion and I don’t think it was because of the omelet.”
“She gave you a hard time?” He stood, legs spread, arms folded. She felt his impatience, the restless energy that was so much a part of him. He was the polar opposite of Josh’s quiet, steady calm.
He had none of Josh’s gentle subtlety, but his offer to listen touched her more because she knew he probably wouldn’t have made that offer to anyone but her. Tyler’s response to a stressful situation wasn’t to talk about it. He didn’t analyze or deconstruct, and his idea of therapy was to hurl himself down a vertical slope as fast as humanly possible.
“Nothing to talk about. It was a duty visit, and it’s done. But thank you.”
“Come on, Bren,” he sounded impatient, “tell me what upset you.”
“She thinks I’m wasting my life.” It was quicker to tell a half-truth than to argue or avoid the question. “She wants me to go and get a proper job.”
“Don’t do that. You belong here.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “You’re an honorary O’Neil.”
Her breath lodged in her throat.
Brenna O’Neil.
How many times had she scribbled those words in the back of her schoolbook?
“The truth is I spend more time with your family than I do with my own.”
“That tends to happen when your own gives you indigestion. Cheer up. You’re going to be too busy to go home for the next few weeks anyway. I’m coaching Jess again later, and then if there’s time we’re going to get a Christmas tree. Want to join us?” He dismissed the problem, moved on and Brenna was relieved.
“Maybe, if Jess doesn’t mind. I need to get my gear and then I’m teaching all day. You?”
“Jackson has asked me to join him for lunch with some visiting businessmen. I’m not looking forward to the conversation. It will be stocks, shares, bonds—” He looked so horrified, she couldn’t help laughing.
“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