A Magical Christmas

His mouth slid over her jaw, down to her neck and fastened over a pulse beating at the base of her throat. The brush of his tongue brought a moan to her throat, and she tugged at his shirt, needing to touch him, needing to feel. He had the body of an athlete, supremely fit, honed from hours of hard physical exercise, and her seeking hands encountered hard male muscle and smooth skin.

He slid one hand behind her head and brought his mouth back to hers in a kiss that was hot and explicit. She felt him, hard and ready through the fabric of his jeans, and she could hardly breathe for wanting him.

Would it be here?

Now?

She breathed him in, tasted him, touched him and just when she was ready to do anything he asked of her, he eased his mouth away from hers.

His gaze was hooded, his expression unreadable, and then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the den and up the stairs to his bedroom.

It was the only room in the house she hadn’t seen. He lowered her to the floor next to the bed, which was positioned to take advantage of acres of glass. This time she wasn’t interested in the view. Only the man.

Without shifting his gaze from hers, he slid her top over her head and then moved his hands down her body, peeling away clothing, his and hers until they were both naked. Curious, fascinated, she trailed her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, feeling the dip and swell of muscle under her fingers, exploring and discovering. She knew everything about him, but not this. This part of him had remained a secret to her. This was the only intimacy they hadn’t shared in a lifetime of friendship.

Everything about him was strong, vital, virile, from the haze of dark hair over his chest to the smooth power of his shoulders. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his shoulder, sliding her hands over his abdomen and lower, feeling his muscles flex, hearing the change in his breathing as she closed her hand over the silken thickness of him.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned and then pulled her against the power of his body and into the heat of his kiss. “Brenna, Brenna—” He murmured her name over and over again, ran the tip of his tongue over her lower lip, explored every part of her mouth until she could hardly stand because this was Tyler, her Tyler, and he was kissing her as if the world was ending and this was their last moment together.

He lowered her to the bed in a fluid movement, so strong, so sure of himself as he eased over her, the muscles bunching in his arms as he supported his weight. And still he kissed her while his hand slid over her waist, her hip and down to her thigh, missing not a single part of her. And then his mouth followed, and she squirmed against the sheets, unable to stay still as he fastened his mouth over the tip of first one breast and then the other while his fingertips slid, stroked and explored with maddening skill. Sensation cascaded from all sides until she was dizzy with the thrill of it, drowning in thick, syrupy pleasure, consumed by savage sexual excitement.

She felt him part her, felt every slow, careful stroke of those clever fingers and then his mouth as he acquainted himself with every part of her body. Shyness was brief and quickly replaced by an urgency so sharp, she was almost driven mad by it. She shifted under him, dug her fingers into that smooth, hard flesh, and he eased his way back up her body until he was looking down into her eyes.

“Tyler, please—” She’d waited so long, so long, and she wanted it to be now.

“Are you sure?” He stroked his hand over her hair, her cheek, cupped her face so she couldn’t hide from him, and she thrilled in the knowledge that his hand wasn’t steady, that his control wasn’t as absolute as it seemed.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” She slid her hand over his shoulder, behind the strong column of his neck, into his silky hair. “I’ve wanted you forever. It’s always been you. Always.” She watched, heart racing as he reached for a condom from the drawer by the side of his bed. Of course, she thought, after Janet he wouldn’t want to take the risk.

“Look at me.” His voice was a soft command, and she opened her eyes and met the blue blaze of his. Their legs were tangled; she felt the brush of rough hair against the sensitive flesh of her thigh and the solid weight of him as he lay, trapping her with the power of his body. And then he shifted position, and she felt the heat of him, the thickness and the hard pressure, and she knew there was no stopping, no turning back. This was it. It was finally going to happen, and it didn’t seem real because in all her dreams it had been him, always him, this man, and finally her dreams were merging with reality.

“Tyler—” She breathed his name again, dizzy with anticipation, drugged by sensation so acute, she felt as if she’d explode with wanting.

Her hands moved down his back, over hard muscle and satin-smooth skin, exploring every contour of his body. She felt him lift her, felt heat and power and masculine thrust as he entered her slowly, carefully, giving her time to adjust, watching her the whole time, forever changing their relationship with every intimacy he stole. She didn’t know she was holding her breath until he murmured, “Breathe, sweetheart,” and then she snatched in air, holding his gaze as she felt the thickness and power of him stretching her, filling her. She knew he was holding back. She could see it in the glitter of his eyes and the streak of color on his cheekbones. It touched her that he’d be so careful, and she lifted her hand and touched his face, feeling the roughness of his jaw against the softness of her hand.

“Tyler—”

“You’re beautiful.” He murmured the words against her mouth. “I’ve never said that to you before, and I should have. You’re so beautiful.”

She knew she wasn’t, but he made her believe it with the sincerity of his voice and the look in his eyes, and she knew she’d never feel as deeply connected to another person as she did right at that moment.

“I love you.” The words slipped out of her as her feelings spilled over, her emotions too full to be contained. “I love you so much. I always have. My whole life.”

“Bren.” He groaned her name and slid his hand under her, thrusting deep, and she held still for a moment, feeling her body tighten around the thickness of him, and then he was moving with a raw, primitive rhythm that sent her excitement levels rocketing off the scale. Wrapping her legs around him, she lifted into each thrust, felt him adjust the angle to increase the pleasure. She cried out, unable to stop herself, and he lowered his mouth to hers, swallowing the sound, taking everything she was offering so freely. He was buried deep inside her, and she moaned again because something he was doing felt unbelievably good, and she felt the hot ripples of pleasure spread through her body. She heard the possessive purr that came from somewhere deep in his throat, heard him mutter something under his breath, and then her body tightened around his, drawing him to the same place until there was no holding back for either of them and they came together, the pleasure thick and intoxicating, flooding both of them until neither could breathe or move.

He dropped his head to her shoulder, fighting for breath, holding her tightly. Her arms stayed around him. She felt slick skin and strength, the steady thud of his heart and thought dreams can come true.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

TYLER WOKE TO FIND her body curled against his.

He lay still, adjusting to the strange and unfamiliar experience of having a woman in his bed at Lake House. And not any woman.

Brenna.

His best friend. Except that what they shared could no longer be defined as friendship, could it? They were lovers. And he wasn’t stupid enough to think that didn’t change everything.

He’d done the one thing he’s sworn he would never do.

I love you, Tyler.

Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he eased away from her, drenched in panic and regret. He had no doubt that those words had been heartfelt and genuine. He’d always known that about her, which was why he’d been careful to avoid this situation. He couldn’t be what she wanted.

So what was he doing here?

The moment she’d said those words to him in the den, he should have walked out of the room.

He should have explained that he wasn’t capable of giving her what she wanted.

Anything.

The only thing he shouldn’t have done was take her to bed.

Had she noticed that he hadn’t said it back?

What happened now?

Where did they go from here, and what would happen to the friendship they’d shared their whole lives?

This was his fault. He’d sat with her and spilled his guts, shared parts of himself he’d never shared with anyone before, and she’d done the same. For once in her life she’d spoken the truth, and that truth had snapped the strained leash on his self-control.

Unable to think clearly with her lying next to him, he slid out of bed and walked silently to the bathroom. Through the windows he could see the snow still falling, and it lay thick and deep over the trees and the forest trail. It showed all the signs of being a perfect powder day. Normally, he would have been hammering on her door, tempting her out before the rest of the world awoke but not this time.

Tyler ran his hand over his face.

He was afraid to wake her. Afraid to face what he’d done to their relationship.

He swore under his breath and stared at his reflection in the mirror. “You’re an idiot.”

“Why are you an idiot?”

He met Brenna’s eyes in the mirror and saw her expression change from soft to wary.

She’d tugged on his blue shirt, and he found it endearing that she’d be shy with him, that she felt the need to cover herself after the intimacies they’d shared the night before. But it didn’t surprise him, because he knew her and knew exactly how she’d react in any situation.

“Brenna.” What was he supposed to say? This was new territory for him. He couldn’t walk away. He couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened.

He had to deal with it. Usually, he had no trouble speaking his mind, but right now, he didn’t know his mind.

He turned, wishing he had Sean’s smooth way with words or Jackson’s natural diplomacy.

“You regret it, don’t you?” Her voice was flat, her arms wrapped around herself, giving the comfort he should have been offering. “You’re sorry, and you wish you could turn the clock back.”

Did he wish that?

He didn’t know, but the delay in answering condemned him.

There was a flash of pain in her eyes, and then she turned away. Tyler ran his hand over the back of his neck, out of his depth.

“Brenna, sweetheart, wait—”

“For what? For you to find a tactful way to tell me you made a mistake? Forget it.” She grabbed her clothes from the floor and pulled them on, her movements ragged and uneven, her dark hair falling forward in a messy tumble. It didn’t help to know he was the one responsible for that glorious disarray. His fingers, his mouth, the movement of her body under his.

He wanted to grab her, and he wanted to let her go.

He wanted to strip off that blue shirt and feel her naked under him again and at the same time, he didn’t want to touch her.

Never in his life had he felt this conflicted. Until now, his liaisons with women had been short and brutally uncomplicated.

“Look, last night we talked about a lot of stuff. We were both saying things we’d never said before.” He raked his fingers through his hair, feeling clumsy. “I value our friendship. I don’t want to lose that.” He saw her pause in the doorway. Saw her knuckles whiten as she gripped the door handle so tightly, it was a wonder she didn’t wrench it from the wood. “We have a great relationship, and I don’t want that to change.”

Slowly, she released the door handle. Breathed.

“Everything has already changed.”

And she walked out of the room without a backward glance.

WHY HAD SHE told him how she felt?

She wanted to rewind the clock and take it all back.

Brenna stumbled through the snow feeling the cold and the snow seep through her clothing. Somehow she reached Elizabeth’s house and as she opened the door, she heard female laughter coming from the kitchen.

“So I said to him, ‘you have to be kidding. There is no way I can get you an interview until—’” Kayla broke off as she saw Brenna. “Hi! You didn’t answer my text so I wasn’t sure if you were coming. I thought—crap, what’s wrong?” She was on her feet in a moment and so was Elizabeth while Élise stood, her hand locked around the pan as she stared at Brenna’s face.

“Merde, what happened?”

“Oh, your hands are freezing! Why aren’t you wearing a coat! And gloves?” Elizabeth took her hands and rubbed them between her own. “There is more than a foot of new snow out there, and the paths aren’t even cleared yet. Look at you—you’re covered in it.” She brushed it off gently and steered Brenna to a chair at the table. “Are you ill? Élise will make tea. It’s gentler on the stomach than coffee.”

Élise gave her a look. “I do not know how to make good tea! I am not British. Kayla can make it.” But she looked worried as she watched Brenna sit down. “Merde, you are pâle comme un fantôme.”

“She’s what?” Kayla looked at her, confused, and Élise shrugged.

“Pale as a ghost.”

“Then say ‘pale as a ghost’!” Kayla spread her hands in exasperation. “I can’t translate French this early in the morning.”

“You can’t translate French at any time of the day. You have no idea how exhausting it is to always be in someone else’s language. I can never properly be me.”

Brenna sat for a moment, numb with cold and misery, comforted by the normality of the interaction. These were her friends. And they cared. “I don’t want tea, thanks. Is Jess here?”

“Snow day. She went across to check on Alice and Walter after all the snow we had in the night. Why didn’t you wear a coat, dear? That’s not like you.” Elizabeth brushed more snow from her sweater, and Brenna shook her head.

“I—I wanted to get out of the house. I didn’t think.”

“Ah! So Tyler was being annoying. This explains everything, I think.” Élise rolled her eyes, but Brenna didn’t smile.

She couldn’t talk about what had happened.

It was too private. Too personal.

“Élise, you are burning those pancakes.” Calm, Elizabeth stood up, and Élise swore fluently in French and then English as she whipped the pan off the heat and glared at Kayla.

“This is all your fault.”

“Of course it is. Everything is my fault.” Kayla eyed Brenna and then turned to Elizabeth. “You remember those photos you promised me? The ones of Tyler as a baby?”

“He would kill me if I handed those over.”

“I won’t use them without his permission, I promise.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth and closed it again as understanding dawned. “Why don’t I look for them right now? It might take me a while,” she said vaguely. “I have no idea where they are. You girls enjoy your breakfast. Don’t wait for me.”

“I cannot believe I did that.” Disgusted, Élise scraped the mess from the bottom of the pan and put it in the sink to soak. “If one of my staff was that careless, I would fire them.”

“It amazes me that your staff loves you so much.” Kayla sat down next to Brenna. “What’s happened, Bren? Is it your mother?”

“No.” Brenna shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’m all right.”

“Oh, please, you’re talking to us, not a bunch of strangers. We can see you’re not all right.” Kayla reached out to rub her shoulder gently, and the kindness of the gesture tipped Brenna over the edge.

“I ruined it.” She choked on the words. “I did what you all told me to do and spoke my mind, but it ruined everything, and I want to put the clock back but I know I can’t and it’s done now, but I’ve lost my best friend, and I don’t know how I’ll cope with that. Not being able to talk with him, laugh with him, ski together—” The enormity of it hit her, and suddenly she was crying so hard, she couldn’t breathe, and she felt Kayla’s arms come around her, felt herself hugged and soothed, but all that did was make her cry more. “It’s over. For a moment I was the happiest I’ve ever been—” she hiccuped her way through the words “—and now I’m the most miserable I’ve ever been.”

“I don’t understand.” Kayla stroked her hair and held her. “Why is it over?”

“Me, I am completely confused.” Élise plopped into the chair next to her and squeezed Brenna’s leg. “Explain.”

“I told him how I felt. And then we had sex. I had sex with Tyler.”

There was a brief pause, and she thought she felt Kayla punch the air but when she pulled away to rub the tears from her face, both girls were looking worried.

Élise pulled a face. “And was a bad thing because all your life you have wanted this moment and built it up in your head and it was a big disappointment, no?”

“What? No! It was incredible.” Remembering brought more tears, and she dug in her pocket for a tissue and blew her nose. “It was the single most amazing night of my life. It was—oh, my God—almost worth blowing a whole friendship for.” But not quite.

“Right,” Kayla said slowly, “so why is this bad?”

“Because he woke up this morning and he said it was all a big mistake, he wished it hadn’t happened and he wanted things to be the same as they were before.”

Kayla sat back in her chair with a sigh. “Oh, Tyler, you fool.”

“I will fillet him, yes?” Élise kept her hand on Brenna’s leg. “I will serve him up medium-rare or well-done. Your choice. Then he will learn to be better at communicating.”

“I don’t want you to do anything.” Brenna blew her nose. “Or say anything. I don’t want anyone knowing or talking about it. He can’t help the way he feels.”

Kayla pulled a face. “He’s crazy about you, Bren.”

“Obviously not.” Brenna stuffed the mangled tissue up her sleeve. “I woke up this morning to an empty bed. He was in the bathroom having a panic attack. I saw it in his eyes.”

Élise made a disparaging noise. “Men, they are such wimps.”

“I told him I loved him.” She blew her nose again. “I thought I’d try being honest and speaking my mind, and I’m so tired of trying to hide my feelings. And he seemed fine, it didn’t change anything—but he didn’t say it back. At the time—”

“At the time you were focused on the moment.”

“Yes, but this morning—I saw it in his eyes.”

“He is scared.” Élise gave Brenna a brief hug and stood up. “He is terrified, and the terror it is making him stupid. This we can solve. He will calm down. So now you will stop crying and eat pancakes while we come up with a plan.” She walked back around the table, turned the heat up under the pan and started again.

Brenna shook her head. “No plan. No more meddling. No more telling me to speak up. No more throwing us together.” She glanced at Kayla, who blushed.

“I’m really sorry.” She sounded contrite. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Bren. You were so unhappy, and I love you and wanted to fix it, and I thought if the two of you were together then maybe things might work out.”

“Well, they didn’t, and they won’t, and now we don’t even have our friendship anymore.” She tried to control her breathing. “Whenever anything was bad in my life, when things were hard at school or at home, he was the one I turned to. He was my best friend. So who do I talk to now he’s the problem?”

“You talk to us.” Kayla touched her arm gently. “You have us.”

“So you give up?” Élise poured the mixture into the pan and tilted it. “You are a strong, determined woman. This is not like you.”

“It has nothing to do with strength or determination. I told him how I felt. I did that. And I wish I hadn’t. I gambled and lost.”

“You really believe he doesn’t have feelings for you?”

Brenna thought about the night before. About his mouth, his touch, the way he’d looked at her, how gentle he’d been, how caring and tender.

“I think he has feelings. But you’re right that those feelings terrify him. He hasn’t been serious about a woman since Janet.”

“He wasn’t serious about Janet.” Elizabeth walked back into the room. “I’m sorry, dear. I know you feel uncomfortable talking about this with me, but you shouldn’t. You’ve been part of this family since you were a little girl. I love you as if you were my own.”

Brenna’s eyes filled again, and Kayla sniffed.

“Stop it, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth sat down in the chair vacated by Élise. “He didn’t love Janet, you know he didn’t. That wasn’t how it was.”

Brenna wondered if Elizabeth knew more about Janet than she was letting on. “But the whole thing freaked him out. Losing Jess. He felt like a failure for not being able to keep her, and it tore him in shreds, I know it did. He hasn’t been seriously involved with a woman since.”

“Ever.” Elizabeth took the plate Élise handed her. “He hasn’t been seriously involved with a woman ever. And of course that is why it has taken him so long to finally admit how he feels about you.”

“He hasn’t admitted it.”

“He finally shifted the nature of your relationship.” Elizabeth was tactful in her phraseology. “And that is a step closer to admitting it. You need to be patient. Don’t back off.”

“There’s nothing I can do. I saw his face.”

“It is an insanely handsome face,” Élise murmured, “but sometimes what goes on in the brain behind that face is screwed up. He is scared, freaked out as you say, so you must unfreak him.”

Brenna looked at the pancake without seeing it. “How?”

Élise eyed Elizabeth, who gave a half smile. “Don’t mind me, dear. If you have a suggestion, out with it.”

“My suggestion is that you walk into his room wearing very sexy underwear and nothing else.” Aware that they were all gaping at her, Élise shrugged. “You are not only a friend, you are a woman. Show him.”

“I could never do that!”

“You had sex with your clothes on?”

Brenna felt her cheeks heat. “No, but—I’m not like you.”

“Which is probably just as well or Tyler would be chopped to pieces by now,” Kayla muttered. “I’m not sure Elizabeth should be listening to this.”

Elizabeth stirred. “I happen to think it’s an excellent plan. I will keep Jess for another night. She can help me stock the freezer for Christmas. She’s turning out to be a natural chef. And talking of food—” Elizabeth leaned across, cut a slice of pancake and fed it to Brenna. “You need to keep your strength up, dear.”

“Wait a minute!” Brenna almost choked. “For a start, I don’t own any sexy underwear.”

“Vraiment?” Élise looked appalled. “Not a single piece of silk or lace? Please tell me this is a terrible joke.”

“No.” Her face was burning, and she saw Élise glance at Kayla and then back at her.

“So instead be naked.”

“He’ll turn me down.” The possibility of rejection made her shrink. “And then what?”

“You are no worse off.”

“I don’t think I can do that.” Brenna shook her head. Despite what had happened the night before, Janet’s words were still wedged in her brain. “If he doesn’t want me, that’s the end of it. I won’t push myself on him. That isn’t how I want our relationship to be. It’s finished, and now we somehow have to get our friendship back to where it was.” But what if they couldn’t do that? What if it wasn’t possible? “Can we talk about something else?”

“Of course. In fact, I have some news of my own,” Elizabeth said casually, putting the fork down on the plate. “Tom has asked me to dinner, and I’ve said yes.”

Kayla stopped with her fork poised in midair. “Tom? Tom who?”

Élise rolled her eyes. “You should try looking up from your phone occasionally. There is a whole world going on out here.” She beamed at Elizabeth. “Me, I like Tom very much, and he grows the best tomatoes. He has good hands, I think, and I love a man with good hands. Sean, he is the same.”