A Christmas Getaway Read online

  “I’m not sure my team would have returned had it not been for your husband. I wish I could tell you more, but even I don’t know all the facts.” Ryder scooted back on the bed, pulling the tray to his lap. “I hope you won’t think I’m an uncaring asshole, but I’m starving, and I’ve been smelling this for hours.”

  “Not uncaring. Just an asshole.” She capped the bottle of whiskey, already feeling the effects. “I’m sorry you got stuck in this cabin with me and my son.”

  “Honestly, I didn’t need to destroy my liver, so not the worst thing that could have happened.” He pointed toward the closet. “I brought an entire case with me.”

  “Shit. That’s enough to kill you.” She plopped back on the bed and rolled her head in his direction. “I’m sorry. First, I like to swear when Noah isn’t around. Second, since I almost never drink, I’m a lightweight, so I’m sort of loopy already.”

  “If there is a third and it’s about the fact I brought enough booze to put myself in a coma, well consider it said. My CO made me take some forced leave to get my shit together.” He waved the fork in the air. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “When did you start dating? Because everyone thinks come the first of the year, I have to get myself out there again.”

  “There is no set standard. I have friends who waited years, and others months. Everyone is different, and no one has the right to judge.”

  He arched a brow. “I asked about you, specifically.”

  Curling her legs up to her middle, she covered her mouth and giggled. “A friend of Jason’s thought it would be good to set me up on a blind date when Noah was fourteen months old. I was still nursing, and I forgot to wear one of those pads. I didn’t know I was leaking breast milk. I just thought the guy really liked my boobs.” She cupped herself, then realized she shouldn’t have done that because now Ryder was staring at them. Though they were much smaller now.

  Her face flushed.

  “You do have nice boobs, from what I can tell with them being all covered up,” he said with a big grin. “But you might consider wearing a bra when in your pajamas. That’s how I know they are more than just nice, but fantastic.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Ne neither.” He shook his head. “This has to be the weirdest and yet nicest conversation I’ve ever had about my wife and son’s murder.”

  Olivia and Ryder locked gazes as a mournful silence filled the room. His eyes dampened. “Does it get better?”

  She rolled to her stomach, inching closer, resting her hand over his thick biceps. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose a child. I can’t answer that for you. I only know that for me, it just gets different. I used to call it my new normal and now it’s just my life.”

  “I guess tomorrow my new normal will be cookies. I can do that for Noah. For you.”

  “It’s not necessary. Noah would understand. He actually said to me that he thought I was too tough on you and that maybe you missed someone like we missed Jason. Besides, you’re right. I need to start making new traditions. There are other ways to keep Jason’s memory alive in his son.”

  Christ. Talk about diarrhea of the mouth. She dropped her forehead to the bed, letting out a guttural groan. The alcohol had not only gone right to her head, but it was making her say and do shit she had no business doing.

  Like crying.

  This wasn’t about her.

  A strong hand rested on her back. Ryder dug his fingers into her muscles, massaging gently. “I don’t want you feeling guilty that Noah is here, and Owen is not.” His words were laced with thick emotion. The timbre of his voice vibrated across her skin.

  “This isn’t guilt. Nor pity. I’m not even sure it’s empathy because I can’t wrap my alcohol-induced, fuzzy brain around it all.”

  “Neither can I. Drunk or sober.”

  The bed shifted, and she heard the rattle of dishes before his arms scooped her up and pulled her close. “I’m going to hate myself in the morning for this.” His shoulders lifted up and down as his breathing became erratic. He dropped his head to hers, holding her tight.

  She held him back. No words were needed. No judgement passed.

  His silent tears filled the room with a purge so potent that Olivia didn’t think she’d ever be the same.

  5

  Ryder took in a deep breath, getting a nose full of an intoxicating scent of a tropical breeze off the coast of Florida on a perfect spring day.

  He exhaled and blinked his eyes open. The room was as dark as midnight, but he could see her golden locks sprawled out over his chest. Her arm rested softly across his abdomen, and her one leg dropped over his knee.

  Fuck.

  What the hell time was it? His body jerked as he raised his head in search of a clock.

  She moaned, snuggling in closer, then bolted upright. “Shit.”

  “In my head I said fuck, but same sentiment. That said, we didn’t sleep that long. It’s two in the morning.”

  “I hope Noah didn’t come down and see this. I have no idea what he’d think if he saw me in bed with a man.”

  “Well, it’s not like we were under the covers, and we’re both fully clothed.”

  “I need to go check on him.”

  “I know.” Ryder slipped from the bed, stepping on the tray. “Fuck,” he muttered. “I think I buttered my big toe.”

  Olivia giggled. It was a glorious sound that delighted his ears like his favorite country singer belting out his latest hit on a small stage outside near the water. He’d heard other women giggle, and they sounded like a bunch of hens watching a cockfight.

  Or like little girls.

  But not Olivia. She sounded as sweet as freshly squeezed orange juice gliding over taste buds first thing in the morning.

  The light by the bed flicked on. “I’ll come down and help with the dishes after I check on him.”

  “You don’t have to. I can handle it. Get some sleep.”

  “I’m going to come down to get some tea, otherwise I might never go back to sleep.”

  He hobbled to the bedroom and cleaned off his foot before taking the dishes to the kitchen, trying not to think about how natural it felt to wake up with Olivia in his arms. Or how he’d bawled like a baby hours before and even that didn’t feel weird.

  Nothing about this seemed odd and it should. Or at least he thought it should.

  He knew Melissa would want him to live his life.

  But what exactly did that mean?

  The buzzer on the microwave went off just as Olivia appeared in the kitchen wearing those damned pajamas, but at least she had a bra on this time. “Do you have any idea how sexy you look right now? It’s amazing to me that men aren’t dropping at your feet.”

  She crinkled her nose. “Um, thank you?” As if she were embarrassed, she pulled at her hair, twisting it to the side, letting it fall over her shoulder.

  “You’re a beautiful woman. A fantastic mother. And I really want to kiss you again.” Well, there. He’d done gone and lost his marbles.

  She opened her mouth, but he shushed her by pressing one finger over her lips.

  “I know I’m being a jerk. I don’t need you to tell me that. I know my emotions are running hot and all over the place and I don’t want to use you, but I don’t think that’s what it would be and that’s nuts. I get I’m still grieving—”

  “You’ll always be grieving. That will never go away. The only thing that I know for sure, is that we will always miss those we have loved and lost. We will always think of them at odd times. I woke up in your bed and a pang of guilt rippled across my brain. And I can’t even say it’s guilt over being in your arms, but perhaps a tinge of remorse for really enjoying it and if I’m being totally honest, I truly didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay right there in your arms.”

  Holding his breath, he inched forward. Nothing made sense and he said he wouldn’t kiss her again, but hell, he couldn’t resist her if
he tried.

  And right now, he wasn’t trying at all.

  “For the record, you’re not being a jerk.” She rested her warm hands over his shoulders, squeezing gently before gliding them up his neck.

  He slowly counted to ten while looping his arms around her thin waist. If she pushed him away, or he thought better of what he was about to do before he got to ten, then he’d step back.

  If not?

  His mouth covered her advantageous lips somewhere between eight and nine. By the time his brain hit ten, it was too late.

  And he didn’t think he cared.

  It was just a kiss between two people who understood the darkest parts about each other. She’d been living with it a lot longer than him, and he valued how honest she’d been about not really knowing what he felt after his son died.

  But she’d been the only one in his life that didn’t judge him on how he chose to deal with his emotions. She didn’t tell him what to do, or how to do it.

  All she did was offer an ear and share her story with raw authenticity.

  Their tongues danced tentatively as they found their own natural rhythm.

  Leaning over, he cupped her thighs, lifting her off the ground, and set her adorable, round ass on the countertop, wrapping her firm legs around his waist.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulder blades, running up and down in a wild passion he didn’t even begin to try to understand.

  His brain kept telling him to slow down. Step back. Take a breath.

  His body ignored the call to reason.

  Of course, her slipping her hands into the top of his shorts didn’t help much.

  Running his fingers through her thick curls, he did his best to control the kiss, making it more tender. Sweet.

  Loving.

  He jerked his head back.

  She blinked, and her long, dark lashes lifted her lids, showing off her two blue orbs dripping with desire and need.

  As if she could read his mind, she unhooked her legs and dropped her hands to the countertop.

  “No matter how badly I want you, we can’t do this with Noah upstairs.”

  She nodded. “But damn, can you kiss.”

  He cupped her face, brushing his lips over her forehead. “Take your tea and get some sleep. I’m going to go take a cold shower. I’ll be headed out the door at seven-thirty.”

  “We’ve got lessons starting at eight, so we have to leave by then.”

  He growled. “Good night, Olivia.” He gave her thighs one good squeeze before stepping away. Turning, he made his way to his room, not once looking back.

  A cold shower might do the trick because he needed to get her out from under his skin. Nothing good could come of him being with her. Even if she wanted to give him her body, and she was certainly a grown woman who made her own decisions, he couldn’t give in. He’d only hurt her.

  And him.

  And worse: Noah.

  6

  Olivia thought her muscles had been sore this morning, but holy hell, trying to stand up after sitting in the lodge for an hour had been worse than the biggest papercut ever.

  “Come on, Mom. Your instructor says you’re doing great.” Noah tugged at her arm. “There’s only two hours left before the slopes close. We got this. It will be fun.”

  God, if only he was a couple of years older, she could let him go off on his own.

  Or had Ryder shown up at this lodge at any point in the day, she could have asked him for one little favor. Disappointment dropped into her gut like a brick falling from a ten-story building.

  She had no right to expect anything from Ryder. Tomorrow would be the first Christmas without his wife and son. The next day was the first anniversary of their murder. If he wanted to be around them, he absolutely knew he was welcome.

  But she’d give him space if that’s what he needed. If anyone understood the need to do some things in private, it was her.

  The kiss Olivia had shared with him last night was simply a manifestation of his pain. He didn’t really desire Olivia. At least not in any real meaningful way. Her body became a bottle of Jack. A way to push the agony to the back his mind because that kind of hurt could destroy even the strongest man.

  But they could never share more than that one kiss.

  “We still have dinner to make and cookies to—”

  “We have all night for that, Mom.” Noah pursed his lips much like his father used to.

  Damn look got her every time.

  “We don’t have to get up early since we don’t have any lessons tomorrow, and it’s not like it’s a school night or anything.”

  She waggled her finger while she twisted her waist, trying to ease the tightness in her back. “But you’ll be up before the sun rises, just because it’s Christmas morning.”

  “I’ll wait patiently in my room until you wake up. I promise.”

  She laughed. “You’ve never done anything patiently in your life, including being born.”

  “Please?” He clasped his hands together, rubbing vigorously. “Just a few more runs?”

  “As long as you promise to let me sleep in tomorrow.”

  “Deal!”

  Olivia’s stomach muscles tightened as she let out a belly laugh watching her son do his rendition of the happy dance, his arms flapping about as if he were a bird flying for the first time.

  The idea of getting on a chairlift without her instructor talking her through every second while he held her arm made her want to vomit. She’d fallen once getting on, taking her instructor out with her, and four times getting off.

  And she’d only ridden the damn thing four times.

  She zipped up her parka and followed her son out the door. “But just the bunny hill, got it?” She pulled her helmet on, adjusting her braid. “Up the short lift. Off. Down one hill. Repeat once or twice.”

  “I’m good with that. But next year, I want to take snowboarding lessons.”

  “Good grief,” she mumbled. “But I think we can manage that.”

  “You mean we can come back here? Make it our Christmas thing? Maybe Ryder will come again. I know he’ll want his own room and all, but he’s kind of cool. I’m hoping I get to ski at least one run with him. I bet he’s pretty good.”

  Oh boy. Her son had it almost as bad as she did.

  “Let’s get me through the next couple of hours before we discuss future trips, okay?” She opted to ignore her son’s fuss over the sexy SEAL. In a couple of days, they’d go their separate ways and that would be the end of that. They would not see each other again. There would be no texting. No phone calls. Nothing.

  And soon, Ryder would become a singular memory that would come out every once in a while where her son might say, Remember that guy we met skiing that first year? What was his name?

  Olivia would pretend to have forgotten.

  She brushed her lips with her cold fingertips before shoving them into her gloves. She grabbed her skis and followed her son to the chairlift.

  I can do this.

  Right.

  You’re going to fall on your ass and your dear, sweet, little boy is going to point his finger at you and burst out laughing.

  Along with everyone else on the slopes.

  Carefully, she set her skis on the snow-covered ground. Tiny flakes trickled from the hazy sky. The sun tried to punch through, making it necessary to put on her goggles. The line for the lift snaked around six times and would probably take a good ten minutes before even getting on, compared to being able to cut in at the ski-school line. That was good since it would limit the number of runs they’d be able to get in, but bad since it would not only get colder, but her muscles would stiffen even more.

  A room at the hotel with a hot tub would have been a better choice right about now.

  She winced. That meant she wouldn’t have even met Ryder, and even though they could never be together, she wouldn’t want to erase this moment from her life.

  Glancing toward the bunny slope, a man zigzagged a
t a speed she never wanted to experience. His body moved in one fluid motion, his knees close together, and he didn’t do a single snowplow.

  And he wasn’t slowing down either as he barreled in her direction.

  No. He was coming right at her.

  Panic kicked her pulse into high gear, but with her boots already locked into her skis, all she managed to do was kick her feet back and forth in a frantic movement that caused her to lose her balance.

  “Get out of the way,” she yelled to Noah, holding out her arm as if that would protect him while her face was about to be in two feet of snow.

  As she braced for impact, she caught a glimpse of the man on skis as he did one of those fancy stops right in front of her.

  Then he had the audacity to reach out and try to stop her from falling, but his efforts were a few seconds too late.

  Thick arms scooped her right up and crushed her to his chest.

  She shifted, moving her legs, knocking him in the shin with her ski. He groaned as they both tumbled to the snow, landing with a thud, the thick, white powder billowing above them. Thankfully, her skis had popped off her boots, but now she found herself sprawled out on top of a stranger.

  Who felt oddly familiar.

  Noah laughed so hard he snorted.

  The man grunted as he loosened his grip on her, dropping his head back. “Guess I should have let you know it was me,” Ryder muttered.

  She smacked his chest with the palm of her hand.

  He moaned.

  “Perhaps you should have not skied like a crazy fool, making me think you were going to crash right into me like an asshole.”

  Noah started laughing louder, if that were even possible.

  “And now I’ve sworn in front of my son who will try to get away with using the word,” she whispered, wondering why she didn’t roll to the side, off of Ryder, and jump to her feet. No, she stayed on top of the solid mass of muscle, enjoying the warmth of his blood and the feel of his hands running up her arms.

  He lifted his goggles over his helmet, and then hers, smiling like a stupid kid. “This is the second time I’ve lost my manhood when it comes to you, only this time it was in public. People are staring. I think we should give them a real show.”