“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 cryin
g 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—