The Winter Games Box Set Read online

  And then I walked inside to registration to learn that, of course, the one woman who’d literally crashed into my life, inflamed my body, and stolen my breath was the twin sister of my biggest competition.

  And a respectable boarder in her own right.

  I had to wonder why she then seemed uncomfortable in her own skin; part of me hoped that it was because of me—because she was just as attracted to me. The other part of me whispered that there was more to it.

  If I hadn’t seen her handle my boards, or realized who she was, I wouldn’t have pegged her for a snowboarder right away. There was a certain appearance that riders tended to go for, even women, and the makeup and girly sweaters wasn’t it; just like the button-down shirts and sport coats weren’t typical for men.

  Knowing both parts, it made more sense why she seemed so uncomfortable. My suspicions were confirmed later at that bar—Ice Breakers—when I saw her again. The makeup that she was wearing was slightly more smudged from forgetting that she was wearing something that she usually wasn’t. The sweater that she had on had the sleeves rolled up and when she’d talked to me, her arms remained crossed over her chest as though she was trying to hide her attractiveness.

  All that to say that Zack was right, she wasn’t usually the type that caught my eye. But not only had she caught it, it seemed like she blinded me to everyone else. After we left Breakers that night, Zack and his friends had wanted to go to a local dive bar down the road—Bar Louie’s, or something like that—to pick up girls. I begged off, saying that the jet lag had me beat. The truth was I couldn’t get Channing off my mind—and I had no desire to even try.

  She was the intoxicating combination of fire and ice. Awkwardness and sass. Tomboy and total woman. She had a confidence in who she was and what she was doing, but more than that she had a contentedness with the unknown—a quality that eluded me.

  I turned back to my brother, wondering what his point was. “Yeah, so?”

  He put his hands up to suggest that he meant no offense. “Just saying. Although that sister of hers, now she is a ray of sunshine.” He winked at me.

  I gave him a look that said he’d better watch himself.

  Bending down, I picked up my board and said, “I’ll catch you later at the house.”

  “Yeah.” He put his goggles back on, pulled his poles from out of the snow, and gave me a salute as he skated over towards the lift.

  Checking my board, I headed for the locker room in the lodge to get out of my snow gear, wondering just what it was about Channing that had me so enthralled.

  Normally, snowboard chicks didn’t do it for me, mostly because a majority of them were only doing it to be ‘in’ with the guys. But after seeing her on the park yesterday—and watching her nail a 1080—I knew that snowboarding was a part of her, just like it was a part of me and that realization had only caused my admiration to grow.

  I’d looked her up as I lay in bed last night, trying not to think about the erection I couldn’t shake. I read about her and her brother—the Wonder Twins, the snowboard reports liked to call them; they were both incredibly talented, winning multiple national competitions and podiuming in Slopestyle at the Open. It brought back memories of the days when I’d competed in those events—now, I practiced and saved my strength for the X Games and the Winter Olympics.

  Another sign that my life on the mountain was coming to an end.

  My entire life had been about winning, about dominating this sport, and I’d made it to the top. Now, the problem was, I didn’t know how to get back down. All I’d ever done was win and succeed at this and everything that it involved—from the sponsorships, to the modeling gigs, to the ads and TV stints here and there. I was the best and now, everyone expected me to just take off my crown and quietly pass it on, probably to Chance Ryder, no less.

  And then I’d read about Channing’s run at the Open last year. Damn woman had attempted a triple cork—hardly accomplished by men, never by a woman—in her Slopestyle run. And she’d bailed the landing. Even just looking at the photos of her lying there in the snow, my body had vibrated with the need to go to her, gather her in my arms, and tell her that she was incredible for attempting the impossible and that she’d nail it next time.

  Something told me that she wasn’t the type who would ever say that she needed comforting, even when she did.

  Back in the safe disguise of normal clothes, I walked over to the café. Checking my watch, I realized that I was a few minutes early, but that was ok. I didn’t want her to have to wait—or have the time to change her mind.

  I didn’t give a shit who her brother was or that he was my competition; he could have been Shaun-fucking-White for all I cared—I wanted to win and I wanted to win her.

  Channing, on the other hand, I was sure felt like she was betraying her brother by flirting with his rival. At this point in my life, the X Games was exactly that—a game, but for someone like Ryder, it was the jumping point for what could be a very successful career. I didn’t know Chance personally, but I would hate to think he’d blame his sister if he lost.

  I pushed the door open into the coffee shop, half-expecting to run into my date in the process, but she wasn’t there yet. In fact, the place was pretty dead. I took a scan of the room with its coffee bar and display case in the center, small table on either side, and then couches and cushioned chairs along the edges by the windows. There was only one other couple in the place and they were on the other side of the coffee bar.

  Walking up to the counter, I found myself continuously glancing back over towards the door, waiting for Channing to walk through it. I was greeted by a younger kid working the counter who was either really tired or really stoned. I guess Channing’s sister—Ally—wasn’t working today.

  She’d probably done that on purpose.

  I walked over to the register and ordered two mochas, seeing as how that was what she’d had in her hands yesterday, I figured it was a safe bet. I also figured that if I waited for her to get here before ordering, she would refuse my attempt to buy her coffee and I didn’t want to waste my time with her arguing over who was going to pay.

  Sorry, sweetheart, it might have just been coffee until those sweet lips of yours touched mine; now it was a date and the only person who was paying for anything would be me.

  I carried the mugs of sweetly strong liquid over to a small table near the corner of the room that had two large armchairs on either side. Setting them down, I took a seat in the one that faced the door.

  Damn, my body was hardening by the minute as I waited for her to get here.

  The bell at the door dinged as it opened and in walked my blonde-haired, blue-eyed kicker.

  Before I could turn around for the fourth time, I threw open the door to Cup of Joe and walked inside, immediately regretting my decision.

  I was toeing the line, letting whatever attraction there was between Wyatt and me grow. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to catch an edge and wipe-out before I even knew what hit me.

  I didn’t have to scan the room to know he was already here. The familiar goosebumps sprinkled like snow over my skin, but instead of cooling me, my temperature began to rise. I turned my head to see him relaxing in one of the chairs in the corner. The place was mostly empty since it was almost dinner time; the majority of visitors would be just coming off the slopes and changing for the evening ahead.

  I gnawed on the corner of my lip as I walked over to him, watching as his eyes darkened with desire.

  I subjected myself to the excited harassment of my sister this morning when I asked her if she could do my makeup again and loan me another top; I insisted that it was for work, but she obviously didn’t believe my terrible attempt at lying. So, instead of my usual Gap black boyfriend jeans and t-shirt for work, I was presented with some dark, designer jeans that were just a hair too long. And then she gave me a gray, long-sleeve top that had a V-neck cut. I’d held it up and determined that it was going to be far too small, but sure enough, it
fit. And by fit, I would use the expression ‘fit like a glove’ except that no glove I’d ever worn had molded to every curve of my body like this.

  I sucked in a breath as he stood when I made it to the table.

  “Channing.” I squeezed my thighs together at the onslaught of the accent, followed by the swift descent of his head to kiss my cheek.

  “Hi.” My voice was completely breathless. “Wyatt.”

  Smooth.

  He motioned to the other chair and as I sat down, I noticed there were two drinks on the table.

  “You ordered me a drink?” Was I asking or stating? I didn’t even know.

  “A mocha.” He smiled and I was then forced to cross my legs. “I saw that’s what you ordered yesterday.”

  “Oh.” I picked up the cup, letting the heat pleasantly warm my hands. “I could have gotten it.” I began to blow some of the steam coming off the top of the liquid, looking up at him over the rim of the mug.

  His expression darkened. “Not when you’re on a date with me, you won’t.”

  I froze mid-blow. “This isn’t a date.”

  “I beg to differ.” He had the nerve to smile and take a sip of his own drink.

  “You said it was just coffee.” I took a sip.

  “And then you kissed me.” And then I practically choked. “Which turned this into a date.”

  It was totally uncalled for for him to bring that up.

  “You—“ I broke off, knowing I didn’t have any rebuttal against the truth; I had kissed him. And the way he put his lips up to the side of his cup was making me want to do it all over again.

  He smiled triumphantly before continuing, “So, your sister works here?” The change in the conversation was a relief to my thoughts that were quickly losing themselves in the memory of his mouth for the umpteenth time today.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “She was living in Florida with my parents, but moved back out here a few months ago.”

  “Ahh… She seemed like someone who enjoys sand over snow.”

  That was definitely the truth. “She does—just like my parents. Only Chance and I seem to have gotten the frozen gene.” Even though he laughed, I cringed for mentioning my brother.

  “So, I’ve met some of your friends, I’ve met your sister from a distance, but I’ve yet to meet your brother.” My insides turned to ice. “I’m guessing I’ll see him out on the slopes tomorrow.”

  No. No. No. No.

  Even though he said it as a general musing, which made complete sense since he seemed to have met everyone else in my life except for my twin brother, my mind was still racing.

  “I… ahh… probably not,” I mumbled, trying to inject calm confidence into my voice. “Chance still has to go to physical therapy in the mornings, so he’s probably going to be practicing offsite until the competition.”

  I could’ve sworn that I saw his eyes narrow ever so slightly at my answer but then he shrugged casually and replied, “I’d heard that Ryder was injured, but I’d thought it was something much more serious. Glad to hear he’s on the mend.”

  “I’m sure.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice, but I hoped Wyatt didn’t notice.

  “Seriously. I want to compete against him.” His gaze caught mine before he let loose a devilish grin. “I want to win against him.”

  I scoffed at his assumption. Wyatt wouldn’t be winning. And he certainly wouldn’t be winning against Chance.

  “I don’t think you’re that lucky,” I mused calmly, taking a long sip of my delicious mocha.

  “Well, I’m here with you, aren’t I? On a date, no less.” The man’s confidence killed me. Most snowboarders were cocky assholes, but Wyatt… he was confidence bathed in class; he took what he wanted in a way that had you wishing you could give him more.

  I took another sip of my drink to avoid responding.

  “Are you jealous?” The bluntness of this questions startled me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…” His foot-in-mouth moment made me smile; at least I wasn’t the only one. “So, even though he skis, my brother Zack and I used to get in huge fights years ago when we both boarded and started competing. I didn’t know if it was a sibling thing or maybe just a guy thing. We’re good now, but we were bad; it was bad.” He shook his head at the memory.

  I laughed, rubbing my thumb along the outside of the coffee mug that was now almost empty due to my nervousness. “I think it’s must be a guy thing. Or maybe it was because we never could compete in the same contests. I don’t know; we always worked together, always pushed and helped each other. I think I wanted to make him better because it made me better—and vice versa, I’m assuming.”

  “Or maybe it was the twin thing?” The question was asked half in jest, but I knew from experience that he wanted to know if such a thing existed.

  “It is real,” I admitted and he raised his eyebrows. “At least for us. Maybe because we have the same passion—I don’t know. I don’t know about the whole telepathy part—“ Because I certainly wished I knew what my twin was thinking right now, disappearing into the world with no word to those who cared about him most. “—but, I feel more for Chance than I do with my sister. I love her to death—most days—but whatever Chance feels, I feel it, too.”

  “Amazing.” And he meant it.

  “I don’t know about that. When he fell and we… weren’t sure whether he’d ride again or not, I think my heart stopped with his.”

  Strangely enough, his eyes dropped from mine at the mention of not riding again. I knew the R-word had been thrown around after the Winter Olympics last year, but wasn’t he excited for the next stage of his career?

  And then, just as quickly, his eyes were back on me and he smiled. “Well, I’d still like to meet him at some point—preferably before the competition; I’ve heard pretty incredible things about his skills.”

  “He’s very talented,” I agreed softly; there was no question about that.

  “So are you.” My eyes darted up to his. “Going for triple cork at the Open. Very bold of you, Miss Ryder.”

  I stirred the spoon in my coffee cup absentmindedly, rather preferring not to talk about that incident.

  “Bold or stupid?” I laughed to myself and muttered ironically, “Kind of like kissing you.” Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that last bit out loud.

  He raised an eyebrow at me and then smiled. “Definitely bold. Without a doubt.”

  “Well, I still haven’t decided.”

  “I’d be happy to give it another go if it would help you make up your mind.”

  I sucked in a breath so fast that I started to choke, quickly coughing to hide the fact that my body was screaming ‘yes’. Very emphatically, I might add.

  Instead, I send him a look that said, ‘Really?’ and he laughed.

  “Hey, a guy’s gotta try.” He shrugged, finishing the last of his coffee. “The coffee here is really good.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “I know you have your brother, but if he’s practicing somewhere else, I’d be more than happy to help you with your triple.”

  I flushed, my eyes dropping down. “I… umm… thanks.” Ok, enough was enough with putting me in the spotlight. It was time for this suited snowboarder-in-disguise to take some of the heat.

  “So, what are you doing here, Mr. Olsen?” I asked with my very best investigative, reporter voice.

  “Trying to stop myself from leaning over and kissing the most beautifully intriguing woman I’ve ever met,” he replied so nonchalantly that I almost spit out the last sip of my mocha that I’d drained from the cup. “How about you?”

  I wiped my mouth with a napkin, trying to compose myself.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Doesn’t mean it’s not the truth, sweetheart.”

  I shivered at his endearment.

  Gorgeous. Beautiful. Intriguing. Talented. Sweetheart.

  I think that was more compliments than I’d gotten total in the first twenty-five years of my life.
The only endearments—if you could call them that—that I got, besides the occasional ‘sis’ from Ally, were… well… a variety of inappropriate terms that Chance, Emmett, Nick and I shared amongst ourselves.

  Who was this woman he was talking about? I struggled to believe that it was me.

  I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t. Instead, I pressed for the answers that he was avoiding.

  “What are you doing here? Rumor had it that you were retiring after last year.” I sat back in the armchair, crossing my arms over my chest only to release them when I saw how much cleavage this shirt was capable of revealing.

  “Can’t always believe everything that you hear.”

  “Are you thinking about it?” I was now really curious. His entire demeanor had changed, his confidence somewhat diminished, replaced with a general air of uncertainty.

  “Yeah, of course.” He ran his hand through his sculpted hair. “I don’t know that I have a choice.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s time for me to pass the torch—or so they say. I’m on top right now and my sponsors want me to quit while I’m ahead. Too much young, new blood out there, willing to try things that I’m not sure my body would easily recover from anymore.”

  “Why? You’re not that old,” I retorted, struggling to believe what I was hearing.

  “Oh, thanks,” he returned sarcastically with a laugh.

  “I mean… that’s not… you know what I meant.” I blushed again and began to gnaw on my lower lip.

  “Don’t do that,” he said gruffly. I watched his hard body tense underneath his fitted clothes.

  “What?” I froze. Did he mean don’t ask about him? Don’t ask about his retirement?

  He bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees as his hands came up and cupped over his mouth for a second before they dropped and he responded, “Bite your lip like that.” Immediately, my mouth parted in a small ‘oh.’ “You have no idea how badly it makes me want to kiss you again.”