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

“Put some clothes on. Right now.”

“That’s the favor?” Laughing, he backed her against the countertop, all pumped-up muscle and male virility. “Is there some reason you want me to put clothes on, Miss Green?”

“Yes.” She tried to push him away but it didn’t work out that way. “I can’t concentrate when you’re half-naked.”

“Is that right?” His mouth was on her neck. Lower.

Her eyes closed. “Jackson—breakfast—”

“You don’t eat breakfast.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the bedroom.

By the time they eventually ate their breakfast, the eggs were cold.

* * *

HE LEFT HER naked and working in bed while he went in search of his grandfather.

He found him sitting on a log, staring at the mountains.

Something about his expression made Jackson’s heart tighten. “Need any help?”

“Why?” Turning his head, his grandfather scowled at him. “Are you taking a break from pouring good money after bad?”

Fear, Jackson thought. What he was seeing was fear.

“Nothing I’ve done has been bad, Gramps.” He spoke quietly. “What is it you want for Snow Crystal? I assumed you wanted to keep this place going, and that’s what I’m trying to do.”

There was a long silence.

“What I want,” his grandfather said, “is for you to go back to Switzerland or wherever it is your fancy company is based and leave this place to those of us who know how to run it.”

The words lit the fire under the neat stack of frustration that had been slowly building over the past eighteen months.

“There’s more than one way to get something done. I’ve seen you come down a mountain sixteen different ways, and running a business is no different. I may not be taking the route you took, I may not be doing things the way you did them, but it doesn’t mean I’m wrong. I can run this place. I can keep it going and build it. Why can’t you trust me to do that?”

“Because I don’t want you to.” Walter stood up and picked up the ax, his knuckles white on the handle. “I don’t want you to run this place.”

The words drove into his belly like a physical punch.

The silence was broken only by the sound of his grandfather’s uneven breathing.

Jackson knew better than to let the first thing in his head come out of his mouth, so he waited a moment. He tried never to let emotions enter into his business decisions, but when those decisions involved family he’d discovered it was all about emotion. He’d trained himself not to take anything personally, but how could this not be personal? “You don’t think I can do it.”

“I know you can do it.” His grandfather thumped the ax into the log and left it there, vibrating with the force of the blow. “You can do anything you put your mind to. I saw it when you were four years old. If something stood in your way and you couldn’t get over it, you went around it. You’re clever. And you’ve got a way with people. Those things together—well, it’s a real gift.”

The shift from insult to compliment was so swift Jackson was left reeling. Your grandfather is so proud of you.

“But—” he had to push the words through the roughness of his throat “—if you know I can do it, then why don’t you want me here?”

“Because this place swallows you up. It takes all you have and still demands more. And it’s never enough.” His grandfather sank back down onto the log, his movements unsteady. At that moment he looked every one of his eighty years.

Jackson stared at him, seeing a stranger. “I thought you loved Snow Crystal.”

“Love?” His grandfather tilted his head and breathed the air and stared at the mountains. “I’ve stared at these same peaks since the day I first opened my eyes. You’d think I’d be bored of the view by now, wouldn’t you? Truth is, the only thing that lifts my mood more than looking at those mountains is looking at your grandmother, and she’s part of this place. Of course I love it. I was born loving it and I’ll die loving it, but loving it comes at a price and I didn’t want any of you to pay that price. I wanted all of you to be free to live your lives the way you want to live them. If you’d stayed to run this place would you have gone to Switzerland and built your company? Would Tyler have won medals? Would Sean have become a doctor?”

“Nothing would have stopped Tyler skiing or Sean becoming a doctor.” Jackson’s throat felt raw. His chest ached. “You sent us away. Hell, Gramps, you virtually kicked the three of us out.”

“I did it for your own good.”