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Authors: Chantilly White

Snow Angel (17 page)

BOOK: Snow Angel
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“What difference does it make?”

“I don’t know. It just does.”

“Anyway—”

“Hey, Mel,” Christian said, interrupting her as he came down the hallway. “Jake, your dad wants you.”

Jacob patted Melinda’s knee and slid out from under her legs, bouncing up to find Bill. Christian fell into Jacob’s place with a loud groan.

“Tired?” Melinda asked.

“Nah, not too bad. Need food, then we’re going back. Aren’t you coming?”

“Tomorrow,” she said.

Christian nodded and started to say something else, but Wendell called to him from the kitchen and he hopped up again.

Melinda watched the casual chaos while Lois and her mother tried to get dinner rolling with everyone coming and going through the space, snagging drinks, grabbing bags of chips, tossing gear into corners, and generally making a nuisance of themselves.

The front door opened and everyone from the second condo trooped in, too, doubling the size of the group, yet somehow—mostly thanks to Rick—quintupling the amount of noise.

Smiling, Melinda settled back into her spot on the couch. It was good to be home for the night, surrounded by family and friends, with the yummy scent of Lois’s famous chicken beginning to waft through the condo.

Comforted and comfortable, she barely noticed when Gabe shoved her legs over and he and Eddie sat on the couch beside her. They changed the channel to an all-sports station and turned the volume of the TV way up.

Best of all, she’d hardly thought of Mitch—or her inconvenient, but undeniable, attraction to Jacob—all day.

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

They had to wake her for dinner.

Groggy but starving, she managed to plow her way through the baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and salad almost as well as the guys.

Though her level of tiredness had reached epic proportions by the time they finished the meal, she stuck around to help Karen, Lois, and Nancy with the clean up. Aunt Pat and the men, minus her dad who, like Melinda, was ready for bed, got back into their gear and took off for the last few hours of night skiing.

Once the dishes were done, her dad joined her at the dinner table for a round of Spite and Malice. They chatted about spring plantings for the nursery and the new sales associate they’d hired in November, about her schooling, and about their plans for the summer.

“Zach said he’ll be home for camping,” her dad said, giving a face-splitting yawn. “Did he tell you?”

“Yeah,” she said, stealing a sip from Stan’s cup of hot tea. “I hope it’s true.”

“Me, too. It’s been a long time since he was home.”

They smiled at each other a bit sadly, both missing her older brother. He’d only been home twice for short visits in the three years since he’d moved to Japan. It wasn’t enough.

Melinda beat her dad soundly at the card game, as usual.

“I taught you too well,” he said mournfully. “I should’ve held back some tricks.”

“Ha,” Melinda said. “I need no tricks. It’s all strategy and skill.”

They shared matching grins, then he kissed her forehead and wandered off to bed after kissing her mom goodnight, too.

The women had settled in front of the TV, and Nancy had put in the DVD of
Friends With Benefits
. Melinda joined them, trying not to blush in front of the grown-ups when Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake got busy on screen, but wow, some of those scenes were steamy!

The blush burned hotter when an image of herself and Jacob experimenting with that sort of arrangement—complete with the movie’s happily-ever-after ending—popped into her head.

A bit wistful, but supremely glad her father had already gone to bed, Melinda covered her eyes for the next super-sexy scene and dragged up a picture of Dane in her mind to replace Jacob’s handsome face.

Dane was cute enough, in an overbearing sort of way, and plenty strong, but she liked her guys taller. Darker. Sweeter. More like Jacob.

Damn it!

Mentally smacking herself, Melinda tuned back into the movie. She had to stop doing that. Jacob did not belong in her head that way. At all. If this was rebounding, it sucked. There was no earthly reason that getting over Mitch should have to involve Jacob.

Yet somehow, the hurt over Mitch had faded a great deal from the moment Jacob showed up at the house, and had continued to improve ever since.

What did that say about her? She’d loved the lying Mitch-weasel, hadn’t she? So how could she feel so much better after only a few days? Surely she should grieve the end of their relationship longer than that. It seemed so shallow otherwise.

Then again, Mitch certainly wasn’t grieving. If their time together had all been an illusion, a stage production, then maybe her heart didn’t need to bleed over its end.

She was in charge of her emotions. She could decide where to invest them. Not that they needed to shift to Jacob. Daydreams aside, nothing would change the fact that they wanted very different lives after college.

Though if she could clone a Jacob—an exact replica, but one who wanted to stay with her in Pasodoro—she’d do it in a heartbeat.

Melinda sighed.

Damn.

When the DVD ended, Melinda said goodnight, though it was still shy of ten o’clock. The guys would probably be back soon, but fatigue urged her toward her warm bed and sleep. She kissed her mom on the cheek, then Jacob’s mom, then Eddie’s, grabbed her cell phone out of her ski jacket, and climbed the spiral stairs to the loft.

Hopping into bed, she snagged the book she’d brought along—a Christmas gift she’d been dying to dive into—and read for a while. The low murmur of the women’s voices drifted to her from downstairs, a soothing backdrop. They put on some quiet music while they talked, and someone popped popcorn, half-tempting her to go back down for a bowl, but she was too tired and too comfortable all wrapped up in her blankets.

Later, she roused from her book to Nancy’s chirpy voice saying goodnight and the closing of the front door as Nancy headed to her own room in the other condo. Melinda squinted at the bedside clock, surprised they’d lasted so long as tired as everyone had been after their first full day of skiing.

Her mom and Jacob’s, talking quietly, flicked off the downstairs lights one at a time. Lois said something that made her mom laugh, then came the muffled thumps of their two doors closing in the hallway, and all went silent.

Marking her spot in her book with a yawn, Melinda grabbed her phone and scrolled through her messages and email, answering or deleting as needed, wondering where the guys were. It was getting pretty late.

She was about to turn her phone off when she realized she had a missed call and a voice message. Touching the screen to bring it up, she frowned at the unfamiliar phone number. She pressed play to hear the message, then instantly wished she hadn’t.

Mitch’s voice flowed from the speaker.

Warm.

Familiar.

Her heart gave a painful squeeze.

Damn him!

Hot tears came, but they were more for herself than for the loss of him, and she blinked them back.

“Melly,” he said, his deep voice achingly low and tender, full of regret. “It’s me. I miss you, babe. Listen, I’m sorry about everything. I wish—”

But Melinda didn’t hear what he wished. She pushed delete, then tossed her phone on the bedside table, her emotions somersaulting through her heart.

Not because she hurt, but because she didn’t hurt as much as she thought she should.

Self-loathing filled her. She was shallow, careless, heartless. She’d been in love with him. She was so sure. All that time together, all those memories. Yet in a mere four days, she’d gotten over him almost entirely?

That couldn’t be real love.

Which meant she had no idea what real love felt like. Jacob’s image winding around her heart and mind only made her more confused.

Miserable, Melinda buried her face in her pillow and cried.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

 

Jacob sprayed a face full of snow onto Danny, Gabe, and Wendell as he swooshed to a stop next to them at the bottom of the run. The last of the night.

Wendell said, “Dude.”

Danny and Gabe just grunted.

It was a testament to everyone’s fatigue that they barely registered the onslaught and didn’t bother to retaliate, merely wiping the snow from their goggles and blowing into their cupped hands, hoping to warm the scant amounts of skin exposed to the frigid temperature.

Moonlight beamed from a clear, diamond-hard night sky, though it was no match for the glaring yellow glow of the floodlights or the colorful rows of Christmas bulbs strung along the three ski slopes the resort kept open for night runs.

Jacob could hardly remember the last few hours, despite the constant competition and trash talk he knew had gone on. It was tradition with this crew, as much as the trip itself. No one had looked at him oddly, though, so he must have held his own.

Not hard, since he could take them on in his sleep, especially the old timers who pretty much sucked at talking smack.

But still.

It was damned annoying having his brain invaded by images of Melinda and some jockstrap ski instructor when he should have been all about the powder.

Staring blindly back up the brightly-lit slope, he wondered if Melinda had given the guy her phone number, then wondered why he should care. There were about a billion reasons why nothing was ever going to happen between the two of them, starting with their long friendship and moving down the list from there. Even if he wanted something to happen.

Which he didn’t.

Did he?

Okay, maybe he did.

Maybe he even daydreamed about it sometimes. That didn’t mean he was going to act on it, and never mind how sweet and warm and sexily gorgeous she’d looked all bundled up and sleeping on the couch earlier. Risking their friendship would put them on a path straight to hell, along with all his other good intentions.

Friends getting together was so not a good idea.

Jacob sighed.

Of course friendships could develop into solid relationships. He was surrounded by couples who’d done exactly that, including his own parents. That wasn’t the problem. It was what happened to everyone involved if the romance didn’t work out.

The specter of his aunt and uncle and their ruined relationship flashed through his mind. Would Victor even be his uncle anymore, once the divorce was final? Who would get the kids? Would he still get to see his cousins? Not as often, that was for sure.

His Aunt Shelly had met Victor in high school. They’d been the best of friends, had lived together for years before getting married. He’d never even seen them argue. Now they were done, his two cousins were suffering more than anyone. Their breakup was tearing a hole through his entire family.

“Take that, sucka!” Aunt Pat yelled, coming in for a fast landing and catching him distracted, spraying him head to toe with the same treatment he’d given to the guys.

Those three had managed to duck out of the way this time and were now leaning on each other for support as they laughed their asses off for his benefit.

“Woman,” Jacob spluttered through his mouthful of snow, “I am so spiking your coffee with laxatives.”

“Ha,” Pat said, beaming at him unrepentantly. “You have to catch me first, scooter-bug.”

“You think you’re fast now, wait ’til that special blend hits your system, and you’re miles away from a bathroom.”

“Dude, that’s evil,” Gabe said, unholy glee in his eyes.

“Genius,” said Danny, grinning madly at his mother. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Pure genius.”

“Now, boys,” Pat said, still chortling. A warrior secure in her imperviousness to boyish pranks. “No ganging up on the ladies.”

“Don’t start whatcha can’t finish, Aunt Pittypat.” Jacob waggled his eyebrows at her meaningfully. “I learned that lesson at your knee.”

Pale blue eyes lasered him, and her mouth quirked upward on one side, half humor, half dare.

“Best remember what you learned about paybacks, too, sonny boy.” She lifted a blond eyebrow to answer his. “Remember last time.”

Danny sobered instantly. Jacob snorted, admitting nothing.

“What happened last time?” Gabe wanted to know.

“Yeah, Jake, spill,” Wendell coaxed. “What’d we miss? We need a good laugh.”

Angling his chin, Jacob ignored them.

“Come on, Jakey,” Pat said, her voice singsong now, her eyes dancing. “You know it. Who’s your daddy?”

Giving in with a laugh and an eye roll, Jacob leaned forward on his skis and kissed her on her chilly cheek. “You are, Aunt Pat. You are.”

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

By the time they’d gathered the rest of their group and returned, the first condo was quiet and mostly dark. Only a few low lights left on in the kitchen illuminated the entry area so they could see to deal with their gear. Stan and the women had all gone to bed, and Jacob had every intention of following immediately.

Wendell and Christian shuffled inside, already half stripped and half asleep on their feet.

Rick sketched a silent, elaborate bow, then slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, who refrained from bowing but gave a two-fingered tap to his brow for a goodnight. They moved down the hall, too tired for the usual catcalls, Gabe and Danny in their wake. Jacob saluted the rest of the group as they, too, tromped off to the second condo.

Aunt Pat brought up the rear, herding her lowly subjects. She dug a finger into his ribs as she passed and made him snort out a laugh.

He made to follow his dad inside after Wendell and Christian, but Bill held him back with a lifted hand, pulling the condo door partially closed. Jacob raised questioning brows at the man he matched almost exactly in height, though his father had filled out a bit more broadly in recent years.

Bill waited until the second condo’s door closed, leaving them alone in the wide, cold walkway, before facing Jacob. Their breath puffed white in the dimly lit corridor. His dad’s eyes, the same golden brown as his own, swept over Jacob’s face, and a frown pulled his father’s brows together over the bridge of his nose.

“Everything all right with you, son?” Bill asked.

Surprised, Jacob frowned in answer. “Yeah,” he said. “Of course. Why?”

His dad studied him intently and didn’t respond right away. Jacob fought a sudden, irrational need to squirm the way he had as a kid whenever one or both of his parents had cornered him for A Talk, no matter the topic.

“You seem a bit subdued,” Bill said finally. “On edge.”

Jacob stilled, settling his face into what he hoped were noncommittal lines. Maybe he hadn’t been as good at hiding the upheaval inside him as he’d believed.

Maybe he should take acting lessons from Rick.

He thought of the secret he was keeping from everyone first, a secret both exciting and stressful, and something he wasn’t sure how his parents would handle. But it was Melinda’s laughing face that danced in his brain, and he swallowed thickly.

“I’m fine,” Jacob said, making his voice extra hearty. “Great, actually. Vacation, right? Food, fun, fresh powder. What’s not to like?”

His dad studied him another long, uncomfortable moment, then clapped a big, warm hand onto Jacob’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Good,” Bill said, his voice equally energetic and possibly as false. “I thought maybe the divorce…”

Jacob shifted, sobering. The destruction of his aunt and uncle’s marriage was a painful topic for his whole family, tearing them apart much like Carl and Donna’s breakup had torn through his and Melinda’s group of friends nearly three years ago.

How much worse would it be if he and Melinda tangled up romantically, and then it fell apart? It would destroy not only their families, not only their friends, but all of them. Not only would they lose each other, they’d lose everything, one of the best things in their lives.

It was a nightmare waiting to happen.

As much as part of him wanted to test those waters, he couldn’t risk the potential tsunami of devastation.

Although he was a pretty good swimmer…

Just stop now. Stop.

To his dad, Jacob only shook his head. His aunt and uncle, his cousins, they were all on his mind, but he didn’t want to talk about their situation. Nor did he in any way want to discuss whatever was going on between him and Melinda.

If
something was going on between him and Melinda.

Which it wasn’t.

Exactly.

“Is it school?” Bill asked. “I know your last semester was tough, but you worked your ass off. You deserve some down time.”

Latching on to the handy excuse, relieved, Jacob said, “Sure. You know school, it’s always something.”

If his dad wanted to talk about school, he could go with that, although last semester hadn’t been the real problem, and they both knew it. Jacob didn’t even care that the ghost of his less-than-stellar freshman year flickered between them for a beat or two. School problems were easy scapegoats for any weirdness his dad might have detected in his behavior.

“Are you worried about next year?” Bill asked.

“Nope,” Jacob said, grinning now.

He was worried—a bit—though not in the way his dad might think. They’d see after he spilled his secret, but he wanted to get them all through the ski trip and into the new year before putting everyone in an uproar. Especially Melinda.

“I’m set.”

“Good,” Bill repeated, nodding, a half-smile on his face, though his eyes were still intense. “That’s good.”

Bill cleared his throat and his eyes seemed to go even deeper, beaming light inside all of Jacob’s darkest corners the way only a dad who knows his son well can do.

“And your friends?” Bill continued. “Everything good there?”

His friends? There was only one friend on his mind at the moment—a sweet, sexy, gorgeous friend who was driving him more than a little crazy—but his dad couldn’t possibly know that. Could he?

Umm...

“Yeah.” Really not going there. “All good.”

Jacob shifted again, getting twitchier by the second beneath that knowing stare. The weight of his dad’s hand on his shoulder took on more and more gravity the longer it sat there.

“So...” Jacob inclined his head toward the condo, an everything’s-cool-so-let’s-go-in gesture.

Still, Bill pinned him in place with his fatherly gaze and the kindly but firm pressure of his hand. Jacob had the sensation of being questioned by a caring but relentless examiner, as though entire conversations were taking place between his subconscious and his dad’s, all without his meaning to say a word. Brown eyes drilled patiently into brown, making him wonder just what his dad could see inside his head and what secrets his eyes betrayed.

Where did all the air go?

Emotions he didn’t want to look at too closely backed up in his throat. The first stirring of panic flicked along his nerve-endings. He definitely wasn’t ready to divulge his secret, and his mixed up feelings for Melinda were not meant for the light of day, nor a father-son powwow.

Just when Jacob thought he’d have to throw off his dad’s restraining hand and run screaming into the snow to escape that deep, all-seeing parental scrutiny, Bill dialed back the intensity.

Not by so much as a twitchy eyelid did Jacob give away his utter relief.

“Okay, Jakey,” Bill said. He gave one more gentle squeeze on Jacob’s shoulder before dropping his hand. “You know I’m here for you if you need to talk. About anything.”

Horrified by the sudden rise of a lump in his throat, Jacob pounded on his chest and coughed to clear it, as though he’d only swallowed wrong. He worried his tight, raspy voice might have revealed more than he’d wanted when he nodded and said, “I know, Dad.”

Eyes gentle now, Bill smiled and nodded back. He preceded Jacob into the condo at last, moving in his steady, unhurried way toward the laundry room to unload his gear before heading to bed.

That was his dad in a nutshell. Steady, unhurried, and capable of wearing away the bullshit like water wearing down rock.

Closing and locking the condo’s door, Jacob leaned his head back, resting against the solid wood. Eyes closed, he breathed deeply. His mind shuddered, exhausted, as though he and his dad had engaged in a mental sword fight instead of a friendly, mostly meaningless conversation.

Meaningless on the top layers, at least.

Somehow, although Melinda’s name had never been mentioned, or even girls in general, the sensation in Jacob’s gut told him she’d been front and center through the whole thing. There were currents underneath the words, ripples he didn’t understand, and a persistent suspicion that his dad knew way more than he’d let on.

More than Jacob would be comfortable with, or was ready to admit, even to himself.

When he opened his eyes again, they tracked to the top of the curved staircase along with his thoughts.

BOOK: Snow Angel
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