Chapter 5

Having fun and winning were two of Ry’s favorite things even though there’d been less of one and none of the other for over two years. He couldn’t wait for the latter to change because he missed the exhilaration and sense of accomplishment standing on the podium brought. Winning filled the empty space inside him in a way nothing else did.

As he reached the street, he waited with Brynn at his side for a car to drive past. They crossed the road.

Her new attitude pleased him. She was smiling and hadn’t slammed him once. If anything, she seemed to enjoy herself.

Brynn could be humoring him, but if her slalom and downhill events went well, he didn’t care. She needed to get rid of the monkey clinging to her back and wreaking havoc on her skiing. If only she would tell him what was going on inside her head. But since she hadn’t, Ry would do what he could.

“What did you think about the race today?” he asked.

“The course was faster than I thought it would be. The water they sprayed froze perfectly. Slick, smooth, and fast. No snow glare, either. Perfect lighting.”

Wisps of hair stuck out of her hat. The cold air turned the tip of her nose and cheeks pink. She appeared happy and carefree. More relaxed than when he’d met her in the cafeteria yesterday. He hoped that continued.

“Coach Frederick said the weather wouldn’t be as good tomorrow,” she added.

“Snow’s predicted.”

“It won’t be the first time.” She waved to someone across the street who called her name. “The line the third-place skier took was risky but paid off. I want to study his run. He’s from the area. Not quite home field advantage, but he made the most of knowing the hill.”

“You sound like a coach.” Ry almost laughed, given Sam had mentioned something similar to him earlier.

“Family occupation.” She shoved her hands into her coat pockets. “My, um, father coaches in the American Hockey League. My five older brothers followed in his footsteps. Two play professionally. My three oldest brothers coach or work in the front office.”

“Did you say five brothers?”

She nodded. “I’m the youngest.”

Ry had no idea. “I’m glad one of them didn’t beat me up five years ago.”

“If I’d told them what happened, you wouldn’t have the nose you do today. One is a defenseman in the NHL. It wouldn’t have been pretty.”

“I wouldn’t be the face of Guyer Gear.”

“No, but if there was Guyer Garbage…”

“Cute.”

“You wouldn't be any longer.” She didn’t sound like she was joking.

Still, he grinned. “So, you think I’m cute?”

“I never said that.”

“Not exactly.” The way she avoided his gaze told him she did think he was cute. Spending time with Brynn Windham was more fun than he imagined it would be. He wouldn’t call her a girly-girl, but she wasn’t a tomboy, either. With so many brothers… Something clicked in his brain. “Windham. Jax Windham is your brother?”

“One of them.”

The guy was an All-Star, huge and intimidating on the ice. He could have beat Ry without much effort. “Thanks for not saying anything to him or the others.”

“Well, I considered telling Jax and Ace on more than one occasion. Ace is the other hockey player. They’re the two who are closest to me in age and are overprotective of their baby sister.”

“Relieved you took the high road.” Ry touched his nose, grateful one of her brothers hadn’t rearranged his face. Not that he’d touched Brynn, but his words had harmed her. “So, hockey is big in your family?”

“Hockey is the meaning of life when you’re a Windham.”

Her dead-serious tone surprised him. “Does everyone ski, too?”

“Only me and my mom. I did better skiing downhill than skating across the ice, so she put me in lessons.”

“You must take after her, not your dad.”

Brynn stumbled. Her hands flew out of her pockets.

Ry grabbed her to keep her upright. “You okay?”

She licked her lips. “Yes.”

He stood there as if frozen in place, arms around her waist, his face inches from hers. The only sound was their breaths, the condensation hanging in the cool air. He loosened his grip as soon as he realized she was steady, but he wasn’t in any hurry to put distance between them. Weird, given he wasn’t interested in dating.

Finally, she stepped away from him. “Thanks.”

Her cheeks reddened, and her smile disappeared. He didn’t like the expression on her face—a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and wariness. In the past, he would have kissed her, but he doubted Brynn would be stunned into smiling. He would try humor instead. “Those snow snakes will trip you every time.”

Her mouth curved upward. “Gotta watch your steps. They appear out of nowhere.”

Okay, that was better. Not a full smile but close enough. “Is your family coming to watch you race?”

Brynn’s shoulders sagged, only slightly but enough he noticed. She retied the scarf around her neck. “No. It’s hockey season.”

That had to be tough. His parents never missed his stateside races. They attended as many international ones as they could, too. “Your family must be proud of you being on the national team.”

She perked up. “My mom is thrilled. Competing at this level was a dream of hers. Ace and Jax come to races when they can. The others… Well, they wish I’d kept playing hockey instead.”

Few reached the level where Brynn competed, but her resigned tone bothered him. A family should encourage each other, no matter what sport or hobby one did. “If it’s any consolation, my dad supports my comeback, but he didn’t always. He still can’t wait until I leave competitive skiing behind and work for him.”

“Doesn’t sound like too bad a gig with a private jet at your disposal. Beats the alternatives.”

“What are those?”

“Unemployed and homeless.” If she was trying to be funny, the joke fell flat.

He’d never thought about his future that way. Was that what she was worried about happening to her if she lost her spot on the team?

She continued to fiddle with her scarf.

Probably, or she wouldn’t have said that. Man, he couldn’t imagine having that weighing over him while trying to compete, but she made him realize there were worse things that could happen to him than taking over a successful company. “You’re right.”

The condo’s hallway was empty. People must be skiing or in the hot tub. He wouldn’t mind doing the latter with Brynn in a sexy bikini, sitting in the steaming water, her skin and the ends of her hair wet.

Whoa. Where had that come from? That wasn’t why he was spending time with Brynn, except…

As long as your definition includes being fully dressed, I’m game.

A swimsuit counted as clothes, right?

Weak, Guyer.

And it was. So was using the excuse the hot water might be good for her hip and loosen her tight muscles.

Guilt coated his throat. He needed to stay focused. Better not even mention hot tubbing.

He unlocked and opened the door. “After you.”

She went in, stopped at the entrance to the galley-style kitchen, and motioned to the items he’d left on the counter. “You cook?”

Her disbelief amused him. “Tonight, I’ll be baking, but I have many hidden talents.”

Brynn raised a questioning brow.

Oops. She might take what he said the wrong way given their—well, his—past. A good thing he hadn’t brought up the hot tub.

“Cooking, baking, barbecuing,” he clarified. “Not to mention laundry. Forget ironing. A few wrinkles don’t bother me.”

She studied him as if he were a rare museum exhibit behind glass. “I figured you had someone who did those things for you.”

“When I was growing up I did, but not now. I’ll be honest, I miss the team’s chef. Never ate that well or healthy in my life though he still sends me a menu plan.” Ry preheated the oven. He glanced Brynn’s way. “What?”

Lines formed above the bridge of her nose. “I’m not used to this.”

“A guy who can take care of himself isn’t shocking.”

“You’ve never met my brothers.”

That made him laugh. He grabbed the bag of chocolate chips. “Picked up a few things to make cookies. My one vice.”

She eyed him warily. “I seem to remember a few more.”

“In the past.”

“We’re supposed to watch what we eat, but homemade cookies aren’t what I’d call a vice.” She removed her coat. “Now the dough is another story. That is the tastiest part.”

“No dough tonight.” He tossed his coat on a barstool. “Can’t have you sick before a race.”

She frowned. “Do you know anyone who’s gotten sick on cookie dough?”

“No, but it’s not happening on my watch.”

Her lower lip shifted forward in an adorable pout, a move she had down. “So much for you claiming to be the definition of fun.”

“Salmonella is the antithesis of fun,” he countered, half joking. “After the giant slalom on Sunday, you can eat as much cookie dough as you want, deal?”

She tilted her head as if thinking about what he’d said. “Deal.”

“You can have two cookies tonight. Don’t want Coach Tolliver mad at me for feeding you junk food before a big race.” Ry wrapped the bag of frozen peas in a kitchen towel before handing it to her. “Ice your hip while I get started. You can sit on a barstool or the couch. Whichever is more comfortable.”

“Barstool.” She sat at the breakfast bar. “I want to watch you.”

“Me baking is that surprising?”

“Yes, but in a good way.”

“Wait.” He stopped, thought about what she’d said, and grinned. “Did you say something nice about me?”

“Maybe.”

“I must not be a total cad, then.”

“I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt for now.” Her lighthearted tone told him she was teasing. “I’ll make my final decision after I see the cookies.”

“You won’t be disappointed.”

“I hope not.”

Awareness pulsed between them, strong and undeniable. The connection felt real, almost electric, and pulled him in.

She tilted her head, exposing her neck. All he could think about was leaving a trail of kisses from her collar to her lips.

Moisture filled Ry’s mouth. His pulse accelerated. The temperature in the condo rose twenty degrees. He took a step toward her, wanting to get closer, but then stopped.

This can’t happen.

His recovery, training, Beijing.

He went around the breakfast bar and gathered the ingredients in the kitchen. The distance didn’t stop him from breathing in her scent—something citrusy. Every nerve ending twitched, conscious of Brynn, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath, her adjusting the ice pack against her hip.

Yes, she was pretty.

Hot, actually.

But her appearance shouldn’t matter.

He was used to being around gorgeous models—holding them, touching them, kissing them. All for the camera.

But this sudden connection with Brynn?

The low ache might be familiar, but the longing in his chest wasn’t.

It had to stop.

He didn’t want a date or anything else with a woman—any woman. But as Chas had mentioned the other day, three years until Beijing is a long time. That must be the reason Ry was feeling…off around her. A long workout might help.

“Are those walnuts on the counter?” Brynn asked.

“Yes.” Ry read the recipe on the bag of chocolate chips. “Want nuts in the cookies?”

“Please.”

Her face brightened, making him wish he had his cell phone handy to take a photo. He stiffened.

What was wrong with him?

Ry didn’t need pictures of her. He was supposed to be protecting himself, keeping his distance from others, not letting them get close and steal what control he did have. As soon as she left, he needed to do a hundred push-ups and sit-ups, take a shower, and refocus on his goal.

2022. Gold.

No distractions allowed.

That included women.

Brynn.

“This week is going to be a bit nuts,” she added. “Why not go all in with the cookies?”

This is nuts. Ry swallowed.

Time to put the fun on the back burner and take charge of the situation. Do what needed to be done so he could return to Portland and focus on his rehabilitation and training. He motioned to the tablet sitting on the breakfast bar. “I’ll queue up the videos I want you to watch.”

♥ ♥ ♥

The scent of baking cookies filled Ry’s condo. Brynn’s mouth watered. Two cookies would be plenty for her stomach, but she couldn’t get enough of him. An odd reaction given the circumstances, but he was easy on the eyes. That had to be the reason watching Ry bake in the kitchen made her heart beat like she was at the end of a cardio workout. She was happy she’d taken off her jacket. Otherwise, she’d be sweating big-time.

Yes, the aesthetic of Ryland Guyer explained everything.

Including why her gaze was glued on him as he bent over, checking the cookies in the oven. His jeans fit to a T, suggesting whatever muscle mass and weight he’d lost after his crash had returned better than ever. That wasn’t all. His biceps showed beneath the stretched fabric of his long-sleeved Henley. He’d been lifting weights, not only using the different colored TheraBands hanging on a nearby doorknob for physical therapy exercises.

“Golden brown.” His gaze slid to hers. A sly expression crossed his face. “Something catch your attention?”

Busted. Heat rushed to her face.

Ry’s smile reached his eyes, making him handsomer if that were possible.

Eye candy. That was all. She bit her lip.

His brows drew together, and he straightened. “Something wrong?”

“No.” The video had finished playing. Brynn didn’t remember what she’d been watching, but she needed to say something other than nice butt. “I, um, need a new bag of peas.”

He removed another from the freezer, wrapped it in a towel, and handed her the bundle. The way he’d been doing since she arrived. Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off.

“What goals are you shooting for?” he asked.

“Staying on the team. Everything builds on that happening.”

“What about long-term?”

“I had them.” A plan on how to make it happen, too. “Before things…fell apart. Now I can’t see past the team nominations being announced. That will decide what I need to focus on over the summer and later.”

“No matter what happens in May, you need a bigger goal even if it seems like a reach. Everything I’ve been doing gets me closer to mine.”

Whatever his ways, Ry sounded confident. She leaned over the breakfast bar. “What’s that?”

“Beijing.”

“Big goal.” But she wasn’t surprised because he’d rambled on about winning the gold medal when he’d been drunk five years ago. Something about how silver and bronze wouldn’t do. Had to be gold. “How do you plan to get there?”

The oven timer rang. He removed the cookie tray. “I have a list of steps I need to take. That keeps me focused on what I need to do.”

Lists and steps sounded more methodical than she would have expected from someone so casual and carefree. Or maybe he had changed and wasn’t like that anymore. “What kind of steps?”

“Take my getting on skis again. First, I needed to be able to use a walker, crutches, stand on my own, walk, jog, and then run. Those are the steps I’ve accomplished. I still have more on my list.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Not if you write it down. I made lists and keep them on my phone so I know where I am at all times,” he explained. “I know everything I need to do from conditioning to lifestyle changes.”

“Lifestyle?”

“No more partying, late nights, alcohol, or women.”

He’d mentioned his drinking and not having the same vices as before. Nothing she’d seen these past two days suggested otherwise. Maybe party boy Ryland Guyer had grown up. “You made steps for those, too?”

“More of a what-not-to-do list.” His face flushed. “It was time.”

His tone was light, but his gaze was serious.

“You have plenty of time to be ready for 2022.” The way he’d turned himself around impressed her. He could have kept on the same path, injured not only himself, but also hurt others. Except he’d stopped. Made changes. Was working toward a big goal. Maybe the coaches hadn’t been crazy. Maybe she could learn something from Ryland Guyer. “I used to dream about winning a gold medal, but now that seems…impossible.”

“Where you are now isn’t where you’ll be forever.”

“I sure hope not.”

He laughed. “Talk to me about bobbling at the bottom of the course.”

She’d been sneaking peeks at him, not studying the video. “Let me watch it again.”

Brynn hit the reload button. No one except Mom took care of her like this. Jax tried, but he was more of a buy-something-to-make-her-feel-better kind of guy. Ace would offer a hand, when he thought he might get the phone number of one of her friends. Her three older brothers might bring her a glass of water if they happened to be visiting the house, but setting the timer to know when to put on and take off ice packs?

No way.

She’d never been serious enough with any guys she dated to ask for their help. This was a new experience, one she kind of liked.

“Before we start, do you need anything else?” Ry asked.

The last time someone had done so much for her was when she’d had her wisdom teeth pulled the day after her seventeenth birthday. Her mom had made sure Brynn was comfortable. Jax had made a special trip home with ice cream and straws. Ace had skipped classes at college to bring her candy she couldn’t eat and a pop music magazine she used to read when she was twelve. Both had joked and teased her about having chipmunk cheeks. As usual, her other brothers hadn’t called. Sully, who had been out of town, hadn’t, either.

Ry’s attention made Brynn feel as if someone cared. Someone who wasn’t a member of her family.

The hair on the back of her neck rose. She hadn’t forgotten what he’d done in the past. He might have an ulterior motive. She had to be careful, keep her guard up. What was the adage?

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

“Thanks, but I’m good.” Brynn focused on the video. This time, she recognized the course where her season fell apart—Are in Sweden.

“What happened?” he asked, no judgment in his voice.

Still her stomach clenched. A good thing she hadn’t tried a cookie because she was nauseous. A chill grabbed hold of her. Brynn wrapped her arms around her waist.

“I hit a rut and couldn’t recover.” She didn’t need to watch the clip again. Not when she was reliving it. “I got distracted.”

One miniscule lapse was all it took in races won and lost by hundredths of a second.

“What distracted you?”

Ry wasn’t trying to pry, but she had to be careful.

“Personal stuff.” That seemed safe and vague enough to say. “We’re supposed to tune everything out when we’re racing, and I’ve never had a problem doing that before, but I couldn’t then and paid the price. I was lucky I didn’t hurt myself.”

There. She’d told him more than anyone else. She hoped that was enough.

“That wasn’t the only time,” he said finally.

She dragged her teeth over her lip. “No.”

But it had to be the last, or she would lose…everything.