He 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!”