Chapter Eight
“You did what?”
Jett held his mother’s confused gaze. He couldn’t believe it himself, actually. He had said the words to Autumn before he realized he uttered them aloud. Sure, he had thought about asking her to spend the night but hadn’t meant to actually say the words. Somehow his mouth had betrayed him. He was afraid another part of his anatomy had been the instigator.
“The heat is broken, and Jay Henry hasn’t called her back yet. I couldn’t let them stay there all night. The wind is going to pick up to thirty-mile gusts. It’s only one night.”
Autumn’s old house would creak and moan all night. Cold wind would leak through every crack and crevice. The fireplaces would never keep them warm enough.
If he hadn’t shown up to retrieve his clipboard and the skiing times, he wouldn’t have known. But once he had the knowledge, he wouldn’t have allowed anyone to sleep in a cold house. Of course, he couldn’t force her, but she had caved pretty quickly. He had expected her to react much the way Vera had.
“And you said Vera stayed behind.” His mother grabbed clean towels from the linen closet.
“You know Vera.”
When Vera tried to make Autumn feel guilty for wanting to sleep where there was heat, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from saying something. He never liked the way Vera always tried to manipulate Autumn into doing her bidding, and then the woman would get angry when Autumn listened to someone else.
“Unfortunately, I know how stubborn that woman is. She would rather catch pneumonia than be anywhere near me after all these years.”
“What’s that saying about a scorned woman?” He took the towels from her.
One of the things Mom had taught them all was that people made mistakes and shouldn’t be judged by their mistakes only. She would never allow anyone to say a bad thing about Ajay, who had made some pretty big mistakes. But that wasn’t who Ajay was at his core. And she did not want to be judged by her worst moments. Jett had to thank his mother for that lesson. He wished Autumn would stop judging him for his worst day too. And he sure as hell had had plenty of days filled with mistakes.
“You’d think that Vera would feel some kind of satisfaction. It wasn’t as if Ives and I fell in love and lived happily ever after. It was only a couple of sweaty afternoons designed to bring a little relief.”
“Mom, easy on the details.” He looked away. Making eye contact with his mother while she spoke about having sex turned his stomach.
“Oh, please. Don’t be ridiculous. You know what sex is.” She grabbed the towels from him. “I’ll take these to Autumn and Quinn.”
“I’ll take them.” He grabbed them back. “And I do know what sex is. I’ve been having it since I was sixteen. That doesn’t mean I want the visual of my mother doing it.” He kissed her on the cheek.
“You had sex at sixteen? How come I didn’t know that? And with whom?” She followed him down the hall.
“I don’t tell you everything.” He laughed at the puzzled look on her face. She was probably trying to go back in time and remember who his high school girlfriend was.
“You did not,” she said.
“Did not what?”
“You slept with that sweet Carla. The one Kace liked.” She pointed a finger at him.
“He was fourteen at the time. Carla was never going to be interested in him. She was a year older than me.” And way more experienced than he was.
Mom shook her head. “Raising boys was no easy feat. Please tell Autumn whatever she needs I’m just down the hall. Good night, Jett.”
“’Night, Mom.” He waited until she turned the corner where her en suite was before knocking on Autumn’s door.
The door opened, and Autumn stuck out her head. She was beautiful even with fatigue weighing on her lids. He didn’t know how she was handling running that ski area all alone for the past two years, except that she was one tough lady. She had to be after all she had lived through, including loving him once. He had never made anything easy even when he wanted to.
At least he had Lock and his mother for the tough stuff on the ranch. And when anything got out of control, Kace and Gage always jumped in. Even if Kace complained while doing it.
“These are for you.” He handed over the towels.
She pressed the towels against her face and sniffed. “These smell divine.”
Splashes of red spread across her cheeks, which only made her more adorable in her oversized sweatshirt and fuzzy pants.
“I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just sniffed your towels in front of you.”
He tried not to laugh, but a little snuck out before he could stop himself.
“You don’t have to laugh at me.” She arched a brow.
“I’m not laughing at you. I think it was…never mind. If you need anything, my mom is just around that corner.” He had been reminded of all the times she would stop to smell honeysuckles. Her face would light up, and she would pick them right off the branches to carry with her and use in a recipe.
“Where do you sleep?” she said, interrupting his visit to the past.
“I’m upstairs. I have our old apartment we lived in when we were kids.” It was the length of the building and sometimes more space than he needed, but Mom had wanted him to take it when he officially became the head of the ranch. She preferred her small suite of rooms that had once been a bridal suite. Lock had built a guest cottage that they used for brides and grooms now.
“Oh. Okay. Thanks again for this. Quinn is already asleep. I wish my mother would’ve come.”
“She had the chance. If she changes her mind during the night, come get me. I’ll drive over and get her.”
“You would do that?”
“Of course, I would.”
“My mom isn’t very nice to you or your family.” She leaned against the wall and clutched the towels to her chest.
“That won’t stop me from doing the right thing. She shouldn’t stay there, but we can’t force her. If she changes her mind, she’ll have a ride. Good night, Autumn.”
He turned away, needing some space to breathe. She captivated his attention too much with the flecks of gold in her light eyes and the way her hair fell around her face in soft waves, taunting him to put his hands in it. She smelled like iced pears too. He wanted to taste her to see if her skin was as cool as frozen fruit or as hot as his. He shouldn’t have these thoughts about her. They had no chance together. If they had, it would have happened by now.
“Jett?” Her voice drifted toward him.
“Yeah?” He looked back. She had stepped away from the wall but still clutched the towels as if to protect her from something. Maybe him.
“Thank you for being such a decent man.”
It wasn’t the compliment he would have preferred. “That’s me. I’m the decent one.”
She shut you down, Ryker. He had been right about there never being a chance between them.
And he hadn’t even known he was trying for another.
****
Autumn couldn’t sleep. The wind whipped around the house, whining as if it were a banshee coming for her. She threw the blankets off because the room was warm. Instead of wanting to cool her body down, she should snuggle under all the blankets and sweat as a way to appreciate the fact that she was in a warm house and not the icebox she owned.
This room was lovely too with its two full-size beds. The mattresses were stuff dreams were made from. Quinn took full advantage of the comfy bed. She was sprawled out on her belly, legs stretching in two directions. The girl practically snored with each breath.
Autumn had audibly sighed when Jett first showed them to their sleeping quarters. The white clapboard walls decorated in simple farmhouse design and long, wide windows that gave a view of the mountains would entice even the most determined city dweller. The room was decorated in creams and greens. The wood floors were washed oak. The space welcomed a guest and brought the outdoors in, complementing nature in a soft and cozy way. She could stay here for a lot longer than one night.
But that was not remotely possible. In a few hours, she would return to her broken and neglected house. Though she did love that old lodge. It had plenty of charm and sat brilliantly on the end of the mountain. Once the sale of the property went through, if she ever found a buyer and she was out from under the pressures of the ski area, maybe they could fix up the house a little. But who was going to allow her to keep the house? It made the perfect lodge for the skiers.
She hopped out of bed and grabbed her sweatshirt. Lying there thinking about all the things she couldn’t have, including Jett Ryker, was doing her no good. If she wasn’t going to get any sleep, she might as well move around. She could find her way to the kitchen. The Rykers must have a teapot and a few bags of tea lying around.
Back when she and Jett were together, Karen had kept part of the kitchen open for guests who, like her, wanted a midnight snack. To Karen, this was a home away from home for all who stayed here. Autumn suspected that hadn’t changed.
She’d always liked Karen Ryker and had often wished her own mother was more like Karen. She adored her boys, always hugging them or putting a hand on their arm when one of them was nearby, never saying a cross word to them. She had raised them to be confident, strong men with a moral compass that always pointed north. Ironic that Karen had been the one who committed an indiscretion with Autumn’s father. Truthfully, she didn’t blame Karen. Ajay had just died. The woman could not have been in her right mind. And her father was always willing.
The hallway was lit with soft white lights along the baseboard and a small table lamp at the end where another hallway turned, offering more rooms for guests to stay. The temperature dropped a few degrees cooler out there, and Autumn relished the cool air against her clammy skin.
She pushed through the doors that led to the main lobby. The great room was dark at this hour, but the smell of woodsmoke still clung to the air. The wailing of the wind was less obvious at this end of the building, but she still pulled her sweatshirt closer.
The kitchen was dark too, except for the lighting under the cabinets. They had been updated since she was in here. Dark wood glimmered even in the dim light. She ran her hand over the quartz countertop. Her kitchen was almost thirty years old. Her parents had updated it after a big ski season. Instead of saving the rest of their annual profits that year, her father had gambled it all away, leaving them broke.
A sign on the refrigerator read Clean up your mess if you make one . She chuckled. That sign had hung there years ago too—on a white fridge instead of the pretty double-doored stainless steel one. Karen Ryker had never minded if someone came in for a midnight snack. She only wanted it cleaned up by morning. Probably because having five boys equaled a seriously messy kitchen. Autumn ran her fingers over the wooden sign. She was glad some things never changed.
She found the teapot in the corner of the counter and a box of teas nearby it. A warm cup of White Christmas Vanilla might hit the spot.
While the water heated up, she glanced out the front windows that faced the parking lot and the activity area. Her stomach clenched with the unwanted pang of jealousy. Shame heated her cheeks. She should be happy for the Rykers. She just wanted a little of this success for her and Quinn. Especially Quinn.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Jett’s deep voice turned her from the window. He wiped a hand over his face. His jaw was dotted with a thicker beard than earlier.
His T-shirt pulled across his pecs, but it was the way that his sweatpants sat low on his hips and defined his thighs that had the breath stuck in her throat.
She swallowed a couple of times to be able to speak. “You know how it is in a new place. It always takes me a day or two to get used to a new bed.” Why had she said that? Now it sounded as if she wanted to stay longer.
“You can stay until your heat is fixed. I don’t mind.”
She wanted to smack her head or tie her mouth shut with twine. “No. We can’t. I didn’t mean to sound like I was looking for a handout or anything. I was just making an observation about new beds. Your bed is great, by the way.”
And foot in mouth again. Get it together.
He choked out a laugh. “Top-of-the-line mattresses. Lock insisted on them because he wanted one for himself.”
The teakettle interrupted them with a whistle. Jett grabbed it off the burner and poured the water into the mug she had located as well. He grabbed a second for himself.
“Thank you for that. I would’ve done it.”
“I know. I was standing closer. That’s all. I’m glad you made yourself at home.” He tossed her a sideways smile while he poured.
“I remembered you always left some things out for guests who couldn’t sleep. What has you wandering the halls so late? Don’t you have a kitchen upstairs?”
“I do. When I can’t sleep, I come down to check around. Make sure everything is the way it should be.” He handed her the mug.
“Still paying attention to every detail.” She had to grab for the handle because the mug was hot. Their hands tangled as he let go and she took over. Her body sizzled from the touch of his skin on hers.
“Sorry about that. You didn’t burn yourself, did you?” He took a step closer.
She took a step back and held the mug in front of her like a shield. “No, I’m good. The place looks great.”
“Thanks. It’s a labor of love. But you know about that.” He slid onto the chair at the island and blew on his tea.
The moment of embarrassment for her and most likely confusion for him was over. And still she might melt in her spot. He had to be the most rugged and manly man she knew, from his cowboy hats to the way he looked poised on the top of a horse, to the way he could throw a bale of hay, and here he was blowing on a cup of tea. So much for getting it together.
“The ski area has been more of a chore than anything these past two years.” She couldn’t believe she had said that to him, revealing a part of her heart better left hidden. He would never understand the way she felt. Running his ranch was in his blood, and he had the kind of help she dreamed about. His life was easy.
“Have you thought about—”
She needed to cut him off before he asked more questions. “How is the ski team looking?”
He narrowed his eyes for a split second, but he rearranged his face before she could be sure of what she saw.
“I’m still getting to know them, but I like what I see so far. I won’t change anything for the next competition. After that, I’ll have to reevaluate. I think we need to switch a few things.”
“Quinn loves it. She would ski all day if I let her.” She moved closer to him as if another force directed her.
“She’s got a ton of heart. I could tell from the very first run.” He held out the other stool and motioned for her to sit.
“Thanks for noticing.” She shook her head and stayed put, trying to focus on her reality and not some crazy fantasy brought on by a sleepless stress-filled night. Being in his presence under his roof fried her brain. His gesture meant nothing more than he was a guy who did the right thing and could be counted on to help out when needed. Just like him taking on the coaching job.
“She’s a tough kid. She’s been through a lot,” he said.
“She has. And now…never mind. It’s late and my mouth has a mind of its own. You probably want to get back to sleep.”
“Finish what you were going to say.”
Maybe because it was late and the kitchen was dark, protecting her from a harsh reality, or maybe it was the way he looked at her with those eyes as dark as coal and full of something that could be confused with smoldering fire, but she wanted to tell him.
“I have to sell the ski area. I have less than thirty days to find a buyer, or the bank takes it.” She dropped her gaze to the tea. Heat filled her cheeks.
He came around the island and took the mug from her. His large, warm hand rested on her shoulder. His touch and the nearness of his body aroused her, shocking her. Her gaze shot up to meet his. A slow smile spread across his face.
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”
“Me too. I have to tell Quinn. I guess I’m still hoping for a miracle.”
“Miracles rarely happen in business. We make our own luck.” He dropped his hand and retreated.
She stepped farther back. The temperature in the room cooled. “Are you saying it’s my fault that I have to sell?”
He put his hands on his hips. “I’m only saying luck doesn’t just happen. We have to work for it. Businesses go under all the time. It’s got nothing to do with you as a person.”
“In other words, it’s not personal.”
“Exactly.” He flashed another smile as if his petulant student finally understood a simple math problem.
She wanted to smack the look off his face. Instead she tilted up her chin. “Don’t you think if you lost this ranch, it would feel personal? Your father did pass away right in your field.”
A darkness crossed over his eyes. The smoldering was gone. “Our family business has been around for decades.”
“So was mine.”
“It’s not the same. You let Trent run your business while he was alive. You might own it, but you handed the day-to-day to him.”
“I helped.” She had Quinn to raise, but she had checked in guests, made coffee all day, made sure the ski lift worked. But Jett was right. She had that similar thought not so long ago.
“You did help. That’s not what I meant.”
“Really, Jett? What did you mean exactly?” Even if he was right, she didn’t like his implications. Or maybe he had hit too close to the truth and that stung.
“You’re twisting my words. The guest ranch and the ski area are two very different businesses with a different business model. But business changes. Yours ran its course. That’s all.”
“How convenient for you to judge me from your spot at the top of the heap. Do you ever come down off that throne to see how the rest of us live?”
“You’re kidding me with this. I shovel horse manure just like the guy who works for me, and you know it.”
“What I know is you like your neat little life as king of the ranch. And you don’t want anything coming along that might mess that up. And when it did, you did what you do best. You shoved me away.” Her throat burned from the words she vomited. She hadn’t planned to say anything about their past, and somehow she had dragged them back to their old fight.
He stared at her with his eyebrows up near his hairline.
“I’m sorry.” She turned to run, but he gripped her arm.
“Autumn, what’s going on here?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. It’s late. And I’m tired. Please let me go.”
He released her and held his hands up in surrender.
She bolted from the kitchen, ran to the room, and locked the door behind her.
If Quinn weren’t sleeping like the dead, she would grab her daughter and race back to her cold house and have herself a good cry.
What else could she do after completely humiliating herself?