A Magical Christmas. Elizabeth Rolls

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      “All of it.”

      “You were—”

      “Shut up, Tyler.”

      He gave her a look that set her nerve endings tingling. “So here’s the plan. You take one, Patrick can take one and I’ll take two.”

      “What?”

      “Kids. I’ll take one under each arm.”

      “You can’t do that.”

      “Why not? I thought you said they were babies?”

      “Not literally babies.”

      “Let’s take a look and see what we’ve got.” Tyler glided past her and out of sight, leaving her with no choice but to follow.

      Patrick, who was in his first season as an instructor, had the four kids huddled at the side of the run. Two of them were crying, one was building a snowman and the other was clearly desperate to ski Black Bear because Patrick had his hand locked in the back of the boy’s jacket and was delivering a lecture on how important it was to listen, follow instructions and not ski off.

      Brenna took one look at the determined expression on the boy’s face and glanced at Tyler. “He reminds me of you,” she muttered under her breath as she skied past him to join Patrick.

      “I would have been at the bottom by now.” Tyler sat down in the snow next to the boy who was crying. “Hey, there. What’s up?”

      The boy stared miserably at the vertical drop stretching below him. “T-too steep.”

      “Yeah, it’s steep. Imagine how impressed the kids back home are going to be when you tell them you skied Black Bear.”

      “Don’t want to ski it. I’ll fall—” he hiccuped “—or die.”

      “You are not going to fall or die. That’s a promise.”

      The boy looked unconvinced. “Yeah, I will.”

      “No, you won’t,” Tyler said patiently, “because I’ll be holding you. You can’t fall unless I fall, and I’m not going to fall.”

      “You don’t know that.”

      “I do know that. I always know when I’m going to fall, and it’s not today. What’s your name?”

      “Richard.”

      Tyler leaned toward the little girl who was shivering with cold. “And what’s your name?”

      “Rosie.”

      “Pleased to meet you, Richard and Rosie. I’m Tyler. I can get you down this mountain, but I can’t do it if you’re crying because the noise messes with my concentration, and it’s making my friend’s headache worse. You need to do exactly what I say and if you do, you’ll get a medal.”

      Richard looked interested. Sniffing, he scrubbed his hand over his nose. “A medal?”

      “A medal. You can take it home and hang it on your door. I’ll even take a picture of you wearing it.” He leaned across and tugged up the zip on the little girl’s jacket. “You need to keep that zipped, then you’ll feel warmer. Are you ready?”

      “Whatcha gonna do?”

      “I’m going to carry you under my right arm.”

      “What about my sister?”

      “She’ll be under my left arm.” Tyler stood up and stuck his poles deep into the snow at the side of the run. Then he stooped, unclipped their skis and jabbed them into the snow by his poles. “I’ll come back and get those later.”

      “Why can’t I keep my skis?”

      “Because I don’t want you poking me with them while I’m skiing down.”

      “I could carry them down,” Patrick offered, and Tyler’s gaze slid to the boy who had caused the situation.

      “I don’t think so,” he drawled. “You’re going to need both hands to handle him.” He stooped and looked the boy in the eye. “You have to do everything Patrick tells you to do, exactly when he tells you to do it. Understood?”

      The boy nodded, and Tyler stood still on his skis and let Patrick go first, presumably so that he would be in a position to intervene if necessary.

      Brenna felt a lump in her throat.

      Damn.

      Just when she was totally mad at him, he did something like this.

      He was a world-class skier; he griped at the thought of giving lessons to experienced skiers and yet here he was, a small child tucked under each arm and his eyes on the one trying to escape from Patrick. He could have been impatient or irritated, but instead he turned the whole thing into a fun game. He skied steadily, making the steep slope look like the easiest run in the resort. He was a man who could handle anything, and suddenly every emotion she felt seemed magnified.

      Watching him, she felt as if her heart were being squeezed. The conversation with her mother had scraped her feelings so that she felt raw and exposed. Unprotected.

      Living with him had deepened what she felt for him.

      Seeing the way he was with Jess—

      Brenna dragged her eyes away from him, wishing she could turn her feelings off or at least turn them down.

      She told herself it was the tequila that was making her emotional.

      “Are you ready?” She turned to the little girl who had been building the snowman, explained what she wanted her to do, and together they skied down, Brenna holding her all the way.

      Tyler was waiting at the bottom, his helmet and goggles lying in the snow at his feet as he laughed and joked with waiting parents who didn’t seem at all alarmed or angry that their children had come down one of the most difficult runs in the resort. And she didn’t need to look far to find the reason for their unusually mellow acceptance.

      The reason was standing right in front of her, all six foot three of him.

      One of the mothers asked if they could take photos, and Brenna waited for Tyler to refuse, but again he surprised her, posing with each of the children in turn. At the insistence of one of the fathers, he pulled Brenna into the photo, too.

      He looped his arm round her shoulder, dragged her against him and she pinned the obligatory smile on her face.

      “Great to meet you.” Richard’s father shook Tyler’s hand and then ruffled his son’s hair. “That’s one for the album. Thanks. And thanks to your girlfriend.”

      Brenna didn’t dare look at Tyler.

      “IT WOULDN’T TURN OFF with the key or the kill switch?” His phone wedged between his shoulder and his jaw, Tyler dumped two cans of tomatoes and a can of beans on top СКАЧАТЬ