Sleigh Bells in the Snow (O'Neil Brothers 1)

“I’ve been thinking that we should invite some of the top international ski journalists for a weekend.”

He ought to be interested. He should be listening to her words, not looking at her mouth. “We?”

“You.” She leaned forward to remove her boots. “I’ll be in New York, obviously.”

He swore under his breath. “Look at me, Kayla.”

“I think it would be an excellent way of getting coverage and—”

“Look at me.”

“I’m just—”

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“You’re just trying to pretend last night never happened, but I’m not going to let you do that.”

Color streaked across her cheekbones but she kept her eyes down. “It happened, but now it’s done.”

“No, it’s not.”

She stilled and took several breaths. “You are already the longest relationship I’ve ever had, Jackson.”

“Maybe I am, but that doesn’t mean you have to run.” It was what she’d done after her parents had split up. It broke his heart to think of her shivering and alone on Christmas night.

He thought about what she’d told him about her life. Adding those pieces to the other bits she’d revealed over the time they’d been together had enabled him to build a picture in his head and it didn’t make happy viewing.

She adjusted her socks. “I’m not running.”

“I woke up alone.”

“I took Maple back to your mother.”

“At seven in the morning?” He slid his fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him. “Am I that scary?”

“I’m not scared.”

“Sweetheart, you’re so scared intruder alarms go off in your head when someone comes close. There are better ways to live your life.”

“This way works for me.”

Exasperation flashed through him. She was more stubborn than Walter. “Don’t trust, don’t get hurt—is that right?”

“Maybe it is, but what’s wrong with that? I’m only here for a few days. This can’t be—anything.”

“So we can either play it safe and boring, or we can make those few days count.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I know which I want.”

“Jackson—”

“I don’t remember you checking your emails, Kayla.” He could see a tiny pulse beating in her throat.

“Enough. You need to back off.”

“I’m not good at backing off. That’s why I’m still at Snow Crystal.”

But he understood why she would think that way. Her most important relationships had proved as unstable and unreliable as the snowpack on a steep slope. One moment she’d been standing on what had felt like a solid surface and the next that surface had gone, sweeping her off the mountain in an avalanche of pain that had left her living in a world where nothing felt secure.

He tried to imagine how it must feel to know your parents had chosen a different life. A life that didn’t include the child they’d made.