Chapter 12
twelve
“YOU NEXT. YOU NEXT!”
Whitney looked down at the little girl tugging on her hand, a frown already in place. “Oh, no. I don’t think that would be wise.”
“Come on, Miss Whitney.” Jack spun the toboggan around, pointing it down the smooth slope between towering pines. “You have to go at least once. You said you would.”
She crossed her arms as far as her puffy jacket would allow and stared down her nose at him. “I do not recall saying any such thing.”
The shadow that fell beside her shifted, and Daniel let out a soft snort. “I think you did.” His voice was deep but outlined with a chuckle.
She spun toward him, her snow pants hissing, and pressed her fists against the padding over her hips. “First of all, I would remember something like that. And second of all”—she tried to hold up two fingers, but her mittens prevented anyone from seeing her emphasis—“you said you’d sled. Not me.”
Daniel rubbed his face, and she couldn’t tell if he was trying to wipe away a smile or keep his features warm. She kind of missed the black glasses he usually wore at the inn. Without them the challenge in his eyes was clear. But so was the laughter, which made her smile. His head tilted toward the sled as he lifted his pale brown eyebrows.
She opened her mouth to make another point—that she would never, ever agree to go sledding again—but was quickly interrupted.
“You said we could go sledding.” Julia Mae frowned. “Aren’t you part of we ?”
She wanted to bite off her own tongue for being so loose that morning. “No, I meant I would take you sledding. I would walk with you and watch you and freeze my nose off while you sailed down the hill.”
There was no way she was getting on that little death trap. Nope. She’d done that one too many times.
And she’d seen her life flash before her eyes as she plowed into a pine tree.
Her elbow ached at just the memory, the echo of the snapping bones in her arm deep in her ears, quickly followed by her mother’s reprimand as they waited in the emergency room. “What on earth were you thinking? You’re seventeen years old. Of all the things you’ve tried, you pick the most dangerous. It’s a miracle you didn’t break your neck. What made you think you should go sledding?”
Whitney had mumbled something under her breath. And not the truth.
The truth was infinitely more embarrassing than the broken bones. She’d gone only because Randy Billings had invited her. So handsome. Tall as a church steeple and leaner than a lupin. And those brown eyes, richer than dark chocolate.
Sledding with him had been fun. What she remembered of it before slamming into the tree trunk, anyway.
The doctor had told her if she ever broke her arm in the same spot again, she would need a surgery that could damage the nerves in her right arm and make her lose the use of her fingers.
That was the end of her sledding career.
And no amount of pouting from her little charges was going to change that.
Or challenges from handsome men.
Her stomach dropped as she stared at Daniel. He was handsome. Even more than Randy had been to her teenage eyes.
She had zero business noticing that. Again.
She needed to wipe that realization fully from her brain. If only his crinkling crow’s feet, perfectly proportioned features, and full lower lip didn’t insist on reminding her every time she glanced in his general direction.
“No.” She shook her head and clapped her mittens together. “You kids go again. It’s cold out here, so you’ve got to keep moving.”
“Ah, Miss Whitney,” Jack whined. “Come on. It’s fun.”
“I’m sure it is. So get on with it.” She tugged Jack’s cap a little lower over his ears and then scooped up Julia Mae and deposited her on the toboggan.
“Fine.” Jack jumped on behind her. “We’ll show you how.” The last of his words disappeared on the wind as the two swooped down the hill. Laughter split the air as they reached the flat ground and bailed out into the soft snow.
“It does look kind of fun.”
The whisper in her ear made her jump, and Whitney had to force herself not to step away from him. She couldn’t have him thinking he unnerved her. Or that she’d desperately needed space after seeing him and Ruby together.
“Fun for the kids,” she said.
“You don’t like to have fun?”
“Ha!” She spun toward him then, taking him in from the tip of his toque to the borrowed snow boots on his feet. “You’re one to be talking.”
He shrugged. At least, that was what she assumed he did under the thick lining of Seth’s parka.
“You sure haven’t been having much fun at the inn.”
His eyes went wide. “That’s quite an assumption.” His words came out on a puff of cold air.
She snorted. “Oh, come on. You’ve either been working or ... or hanging out with the kids.”
He nodded slowly, his voice dropping. “Or with you.”
Her stomach dropped. Goose bumps that had absolutely nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the timbre of his voice covered her arms.
They had spent a fair bit of time together. But he was supposed to be spending it with Ruby.
He puffed another clouded breath. “Not so much lately.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Have you been avoiding me? I haven’t seen you in days.”
“That’s not true. I’ve been...” Her tongue knotted up on the lie she desperately wanted to tell, and she steered away from it. “This isn’t about me. You’re the one who’s barely smiled since you got to the island.”
As if to prove her point, he frowned. “That’s not true.”
“It is.” The memory of his crinkled crow’s feet and resonant chuckle washed over her. “Well, except for that mishap.”
“You mean the Great Pocket Butter Incident of—”
She scowled, and he rewarded her with a dazzling grin, flashing those perfect teeth and for the first time revealing a shallow dimple in his left cheek that was nearly hidden by the couple days of beard growth.
“I don’t think it deserves anywhere near that level of acclaim.”
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”
She was searching for a suitable retort when two little voices joined them, chattering over each other.
“That was so fun!”
“You have to try it!”
“No,” Whitney replied without hesitation.
Julia Mae’s bottom lip poked out. Then her eyes got bright, and she tugged on Whitney’s pant leg. “I wasn’t scared at all because Jack was with me. Mr. Daniel can go with you!”
Whitney felt her face pale, even below her weather-chapped nose and cheeks. “I don’t think he wants to go either.”
But Daniel’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “I’ll go if you will.”
“Yes!” Jack pumped his fist and hopped around in a circle.
“I ... I can’t,” she started, but Julia Mae was already tugging her the three steps to the sled.
“Mr. Daniel won’t let you get hurt.”
Sure. Keep thinking that, kid. Daniel was no guarantee of safety. Besides, being close enough to share a sled invited all sorts of other issues—like a swarm of butterflies in her chest she’d rather not have to deal with.
But somehow she was already sinking onto the toboggan, her stomach twisting in a painful knot. She hugged her arms across her body and sat as far back as she could, saying a little prayer that the snow would melt. Immediately.
She blinked.
Nope. It was still there, twinkling in the sun. And she was still headed toward what would surely be her demise.
Daniel tapped her shoulder. “You’ll have to move forward if you want me to go with you.”
Heat flushed at her neck. “Oh. Right.” But she didn’t move. Maybe if she stayed put, he couldn’t go with her. Then there was no deal.
With a gentle shove, he scooted her forward, and her plan was foiled. Her knees met her chin as Jack handed her the lead rope, and she shot him a wicked glare. “I’m going to get you back for this, little man.”
Jack cackled with glee, his feet stomping a little dance of delight. Julia Mae’s eyes practically glowed with excitement. Probably at the possibility of seeing her nanny end up in an epic crash.
Suddenly her wooden seat shifted, and a squeak escaped her. Clapping a mitten over her mouth, Whitney concentrated on the hill and held as still as possible as a big body settled behind her. His thighs squeezed her hips as he wedged his boots against the curled front of the sled.
“You okay there, Miss Whitney?” Daniel spoke directly into her ear, his warm breath finding its way to her neck through her hair beneath the edge of her toque and sending a solitary shiver all the way down her spine.
Another flush of heat—this one entirely different from the last—washed over her, replacing the freezing wind for just a moment. Even her tingling nose felt the rush of warmth before it vanished as quickly as her breath in the air.
She managed a stilted nod despite the riot in every single one of her muscles.
“Lean back a little,” he said.
Right. Yes. Getting closer would help this situation. If there was any helping it.
She should get up and march back to the inn, wrangling her charges with her. They couldn’t force her.
Instead, she let out a slow breath, managing to relax into him. Well, that was a bit of a stretch. Through layers of puffy coats and slippery snow pants, she couldn’t feel much of him. Just his breath on her neck. Steady. Even. Reassuring.
“Are you...” He paused, brushing her braid over to the side. “You’re shaking. Are you scared?” He kept his voice low enough that the kids, who had thrown themselves into a nearby drift to make snow angels, couldn’t hear. “I thought you were just playing with the kids.”
She had been playing with them. And maybe she hadn’t wanted them to know that the memory of her last sledding incident made her stomach flip. In a decidedly unpleasant way.
She didn’t need the kids to know.
“I’m freezing.”
He snorted at that, a hint of humor filling the sound. But he wrapped one of his arms around her middle and took the rope from her with the other as though she was all in. “I’ll steer.”
Probably wise. Not that she was going to admit that to him. Her aim had certainly been off the last time she’d flown down this hill.
“Ready?”
She shook her head, the hill stretching out before her, the trees lining the run creeping ever closer until the path was narrower than the sled. Until they were guaranteed to crash. Until she was guaranteed another broken arm, the inability to bake another pie that month, and an end to her culinary school plans.
The air froze in her lungs, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. Scrambling to find her footing, she fought his arm, but it didn’t budge.
“No. This is a bad idea. I don’t—”
“Too late.” Daniel chuckled. Giving her a quick squeeze, he rocked against her back, and the toboggan took off.
Her stomach left her body as they tipped over the edge and flew down the slope. Jack and Julia Mae shouted, but she could barely hear them over the shriek that ripped from her own throat as she pressed her mittens over her eyes. The wind whipped across her cheeks. Freezing. Stinging. Life-giving.
Without warning her scream turned to laughter as they swished over the packed snow, the trees stepping back a safe distance.
Daniel was an expert navigator, steering them over the uneven terrain with ease. With each bump, he squeezed her a little tighter, held her a bit more secure. She was enveloped by him. Front, back, and sides.
She dropped her hands in time to see the bottom of the hill hurtling toward them, but she’d never felt quite so protected.
Until he pressed his lips to her ear.
“You ready?”
“For—” But there wasn’t time to ask what he was planning before he yanked the rope to the right just as they hit a bump. Daniel tugged her to the left, and the toboggan vanished as they went airborne.
Squeezing her eyes closed, she waited for the searing pain in her elbow. Or anywhere else in her body. But it didn’t come. Instead, a puff of the white stuff cradled her as she landed in a snowdrift.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Once. Twice. A third time for good measure. She tried to suck in a breath, but Daniel had managed to land mostly sprawled on top of her, and there was no room for her lungs to expand.
“You all right there, Miss Whitney?” His voice held something strange. Something she hadn’t heard in it before. Something warm.
“Can’t. Breathe,” she wheezed, trying to push him off.
His eyes crinkled at the corners, though his mouth didn’t move. Pressing a glove next to her face, he pushed himself up, only for the snow to give way under his hand. He landed on top of her again, face-to-face, both of them letting out matching groans.
Whitney burst out laughing with the only air left in her lungs. If this was how she was going to die, she was glad to go out on a giggle.
“Sorry ’bout that,” he said as he managed to roll off her. At least far enough for her to grab a breath.
“Seemed pretty intentional to me.”
His gaze flicked in the direction of the vanished sled, then slipped guiltily back to meet hers, his teeth flashing in the sun. “Well, not all of it.”
“Suuure.”
Suddenly his smile vanished, the glow in his eyes dimming to something more thoughtful. He bit the finger of his glove and pulled his hand free before brushing at a particularly cold patch on her cheek. His thumb left a trail of steam, and whatever snow had been there was gone with his touch.
Still her cheeks burned, which had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the man hovering so close. The one still pressing his warm hand to her face.
The corner of his mouth ticked up in a half smile, and it was a switch to release the butterflies inside. They dived and glided, more powerful even than when he’d sent the two of them over the hill.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His gaze swooped down her jacket, confirming that she was whole.
Definitely whole in body. Maybe not so much in mind, all things considered.
She shook her head and shimmied in the snow as evidence.
She assumed Daniel would get up then, relieve her of his warmth and weight. He didn’t. He remained exactly where he was, his eyes narrowing in on her face, his gaze nearly palpable. It roamed across her cheeks, down her chin, and then settled on her lips. They tingled. Waiting for him to lean down and close the distance between them.
And how she wanted him to.
She should have been cold, half buried in snow. But she wasn’t. He was like her own personal furnace. There was no reason to break the spell that was still stealing her breath.
His fingers grazed the line of her jaw, gently pinching her chin as his thumb slipped toward her lower lip. His own mouth opened a sliver, and his nostrils flared as he lowered his head.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled sharply, ready to savor the moment.
Suddenly Ruby’s face flashed across the backs of her eyes, and reason rushed like icy water through her veins.
Ruby. Aretha. The plan.
Daniel wasn’t hers to dream of or indulge in. He wasn’t her heater or her protector. He wasn’t hers. Period. End of statement.
Pushing him off, she jumped to her feet. She had no business thinking of him as her own personal anything . Not with Ruby in the picture. And especially not when she’d made a promise to Aretha.