Slope of Love (Love in Bloom: The Remingtons) (25 page)

“Tell me what you see.” Rush stroked her hair.

“Us.”

“What else?”

“Happiness. Love.” She kissed the back of his hand.

“Want to know what I see?”

More than anything
. She nodded.

“Jayla Stone, a funny, caring, sometimes sad, sometimes ridiculously happy, always painfully sexy woman. I see the best friend I could ever ask for. I see a girl who likes to take walks, loves books that make her cry, and loves the way babies smell, which, by the way, I still think is weird.” He smiled. “I see a woman who rolls her eyes at anything too girly and who once nursed a baby bunny back to health after she found it in the woods. I see a sister who loves her siblings enough to send them socks the week before Christmas every year because she worries that they won’t buy new ones for themselves.”

“Rush.” She was working hard to keep her tears at bay.

“You know what I don’t see?”

“What?”

“
Just
a competitive skier.” He paused, as if letting the words sink in.

Which they did.

She turned toward him.

“I know part of pushing yourself to the point of not being able to move is that you’re afraid of who you’ll be if you can’t compete.” His voice was comforting. He pointed to the screen. “This is who you’ll be. The same person. All of us have an expiration date on competing, babe. You know that. We just don’t know what it is until it shows itself with injury, failure, or age.”

He brushed her hair from her shoulder, and the intimate touch made her long to be closer to him.

“You may still be able to come back in a year, after you get whatever treatment you need. We won’t know until you’ve been seen by the docs. But what we do know—what I know—is that even if you can’t compete, the only thing that will change is how you spend your winters. Training until you can barely move, or enjoying life a little more and taking care of me when I can’t move.”

“I’m not becoming your little masseuse.” She was teasing him, but she felt a sting at the thought of not competing. Just a sting. A prickle. She was surprised to realize that thinking about not competing no longer felt like Freddy Krueger was banging at the back door.

Rush touched her cheek and kissed her lips softly, lingering as only a lover would. “You’re too big a part of my life to be my
little
anything. You’re my everything.”

JAYLA WOKE UP the next morning to the sound of the cabin door closing and Rush talking, his footsteps crossing the hardwood floor. The digital clock read six forty-five.
He let me sleep in
.

“Jayla will be so excited to see you,” Rush said as he passed the slightly ajar bedroom door. She listened, trying to figure out who he was on the phone with.

“Shouldn’t she be up by now?”

Jace!
Her brother’s deep voice filtered into the bedroom. She pushed up from the mattress and stifled a groan against the pain in her shoulder and arm.

Rush peeked into the bedroom. “Hey. You’re up.” He went directly into the bathroom and brought her Tylenol, Motrin, and a glass of water. “Here, take this, babe. Pain? One to ten?”

“Six.” She took the medication. “Maybe seven.”

His eyes filled with concern. “Which on a normal person would be an eleven. You can still back out.”

She glared at him and started for the door. Jayla found Jace standing with his back to her, looking out the window. His broad shoulders nearly filled the window frame. His dark hair touched the collar of the black leather jacket he’d worn ever since Jayla could remember. The soft leather tapered to the waist of his distressed jeans. His standard outfit. She loved the familiarity and comfort of knowing he never really changed.

“Jace.”

He flashed a wide smile. His hair was brushed back from his face, highlighting his wide forehead and chiseled cheeks. He had deep-set hazel eyes that were common among the Stone men, olive skin, and thick, low brows, which gave him a perpetual brooding, mysterious look. His goatee gave him a rugged, dangerous edge.

Jace opened his arms and crossed the room. “Jay-Jay.”

“You’re the only one who calls me that, so don’t say it in public. Got it, big brother?” She fell into his arms, and he gently engulfed her—too gently. At six five, he was more than a foot taller than Jayla, and with his black leather boots, he was more like six six. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him until he held her.

“Yeah, yeah. I know the rules. Heard your shoulder’s giving you hell.” Jace kissed her cheek, tickling her face with his scraggly beard.

She ignored the comment, knowing Rush and Mia must have filled him in and wanting to avoid a lecture. She tugged the ends of his goatee. “You know you could get even more women if you trimmed that thing.”

“Don’t wish that on me. I need the little bit of sleep I get.” He winked, then narrowed his eyes. “I hear you’re competing with that bum shoulder you’re trying to avoid talking about.”

“I see Rush got to you.” She cast a heated stare at Rush. He held his hands up in surrender. “We’re not talking about it.” Jayla went to the kitchen to make coffee and hopefully distract Jace from her shoulder. “How did you get here so early?”

Jace took off his leather jacket, exposing multicolored tattoos that snaked around his arms and peeked out at the top of his shirt collar. He leaned against the refrigerator, kicked one heavy boot over the other, and watched her with an assessing gaze.

“Closed the deal early.” He crossed his arms and glared at her. “You really planning on competing today? You cringe every time you move your right hand.”

No shit.
Jayla ignored him and handed Rush a cup of coffee; then she held a cup toward Jace. “If you stop talking about my shoulder, I’ll let you have this.”

He lifted his thick brows. “I’m good, thanks.”

Rush went to Jayla’s side and kissed her cheek. “I always thought
I’m good
was a Jayla thing, but now I realize it’s a Stone family trait.”

Jace ran his eyes between them. “So you two really are a thing, huh? Finally.” He smiled at Rush.

“Finally?” Jayla breathed a sigh of relief at his acceptance of their relationship. She touched Rush’s cheek. “Yes, we’re really a
thing
.”

“Well, you’re lucky to have him, Jay-Jay. Most men would find that attractive little outfit of yours a little homely.” He eyed her flannel pants and Rush’s shirt, which nearly touched her knees.

Rush gently pulled her to his chest. “I’ve never seen flannel look so hot.”

Jayla felt her cheeks flush.

Jace shook his head. “What took you so damn long, Remington? She’s been in love with you forever.”

You knew I loved him?

“How do you know it was me holding out?” Rush leaned down and whispered to Jayla, “You better get ready. We have to be at practice in an hour. Do you need help in the shower?”

“Hey, she’s still my little sister,” Jace warned.

“He means because of my shoulder, you twerp.” She turned to Rush. “I’m good, thanks. I might need help getting dressed, though.”

“Whoa, hold on.” Jace pushed from the fridge and held up his hands. “You need help getting dressed, but you’re going to compete? I don’t think so, Jayla May Stone.”

“I’m twenty-eight years old, Jace, not ten. I think I know what I’m capable of.” Jace kept busy with his own life, but for as long as Jayla could remember, he’d also found time to set her straight or beam with pride for her accomplishments. Even if he wasn’t at most of her competitions, he usually found time to Skype or FaceTime and let her know he was proud of her. When she was growing up, he’d been more overtly protective, never allowing anyone to look at her sideways or say a harsh word. On more than one occasion when he’d come home to visit after college, he’d scared away her dates with nothing more than a piercing stare and a warning of broken fingers if they touched her.

Now, as Jace locked eyes with Rush and lifted his chin in Jayla’s direction, she wondered if he’d try to play the same threatening role with Rush. He’d be in for a tough fight. Rush wasn’t intimidated by anyone, including her imposing, bearded brother.

“Don’t expect him to stop me, either,” Jayla said as she headed into the bedroom to get ready.

SPECTATORS GATHERED BEHIND the ropes on the sidelines of the slopes. Colorful sponsorship banners hung over the finish lines, and the media was everywhere. Adrenaline soared through Jayla’s body, humming so loudly that it masked the din of the crowd. Pain radiated from Jayla’s shoulder into her chest and back and down her arm. She thought about the pictures Rush had shown her last night and the things he’d said. She
was
more than a competitive skier; of course she was. But this was what she craved.

Rush hadn’t left her side at all during the morning team meeting, the press interviews, and even now, when he should be heading over to his own competition area, he stood beside her as she headed over to the practice area for one final run. He was her rock. Her supporter. Her biggest fan and her lover.

Jace had smothered her just as much, asking every few minutes if she was sure she wanted to compete and reminding her that their family was proud of her even if she backed out. Jace might often be scattered, but he was also a voice of reason and she loved him for it. Even when she’d hated him for sticking his nose into her personal life when she was younger, she’d always known he was doing it out of love. And now, as they stood at the bottom of the practice slope, Rush hovering, pampering, protecting, doing all the things she’d asked him not to do, and Jace’s hazel eyes piercing her with so much worry that he looked like he was ready to throw her over his shoulder and run her off to Younger Sisterland, where siblings were kept out of harm’s way, she was rethinking her decision to compete.

Kia and Teri stood among the group waiting for the chairlift just off to the left, wearing their blue numbered racing vests proudly on their strong bodies.

Neither Rush nor Jace had pushed her not to race after Jace’s initial comments back at the cabin. The pampering and peppering of
are you sure you want to race
was expected, but she’d feared another ultimatum and was glad when it hadn’t come.

She realized that words were unnecessary when the man she loved more than life itself and the brother she adored were practically draped in concern.

Rush’s eyes were dark and serious when he leaned in close and wished her luck. “It doesn’t matter if you win this one, babe. Just come out safely on the other side.” His eyes shot to Jace. “You’re staying with her, right?”

“You bet.” Jace wore a thick black sweater, turtleneck, and leather jacket, and Jayla had no idea why he wasn’t shivering. Then again, he and Rush were the toughest guys she knew, and she imagined their blood ran hot at all times.

With them staring at her like their lives depended on her safety, Jayla took one last glance at her teammates before reaching for Rush’s hand.

Her chest was so tight, she could barely breathe. She’d debated all night what she wanted to do, and now, as Rush’s jaw clenched and Jace swallowed hard, exchanging a frustrated glance, she knew she was making the right decision. “I’m not competing. I’m just going to take one last easy ski down the mountain for sanity’s sake.”

“You’re not…? You’re sure?” Rush searched her eyes.

She nodded. “It’s the right thing to do, even if I hate it.”

“Babe.” The word was laden with disbelief as he lowered his forehead to hers and cupped the back of her neck. “Thank you. God, thank you, Jayla. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, and I love that you cared enough not to force me not to compete. If you had—”

Jace interrupted her. “You would have had a rebellious Jayla on your hands, and not only would she have competed, but she would have probably added events to her schedule.” He touched her hand. “I’m proud of you, sis. But that’s nothing new. You always make me proud.”

“I’m not doing it to make anyone proud. Rush helped me see what I was too scared to face. My what-ifs. It turns out that competing isn’t everything.” She smiled at Rush. “We are.”

She nodded at Kia and Teri. “I made my mark. It’s their turn. Besides, the last thing I need is to get hurt while competing and have you two oafs telling me you told me so. I’ll tell Chad when we reach the top, and after this last run down the mountain, I’ll find Coach Cunningham.”

“I couldn’t love you more than I do at this very second,” Rush said, and she knew he was wrong. He’d love her more with every passing second. Forever.

The chairlift came around and Jayla took a deep breath. “Slow and easy. Promise. Go get ready, and I’ll come watch as soon as I take my last run for the season.” Her heart squeezed at the thought and she swallowed against it. “I’d say good luck, but you don’t need it. You’ve got this one. You always do.”

RUSH SKIED THROUGH the crowds to the downhill slope, where the men’s competition was slated to take place. He felt lighter, stronger, and knew it was driven by Jayla’s decision not to compete. He’d had to fight the urge to tell her not to take one last ski down the slope, but she’d given in on the competition, and he trusted her to take it easy.

“Rush!”

He turned at the sound of his younger brother Kurt’s voice.

“You made it.” Rush embraced him with one arm, holding his ski poles with the other. Kurt and Rush shared the same vivid blue eyes and at six two they stood eye to eye.

“I had a book signing a few hours from here. Glad it worked out.” Kurt had written several bestselling thrillers. Although he was the most reserved of the Remington men, and Rush the most risky, they’d always had a strong relationship.

“Me too. Did everyone else make it?” He scanned the crowd for his family.

“Yeah, except Sage, Dex, Kate, and Ellie. Jack told me about you and Jayla. You’re really taking the monogamous plunge? During competition season? You sure you’re not sick?”

“This thing between us is stronger than me, man. I couldn’t fight it if my life depended on it.”

“Great. So now I’m the last single Remington? That should be fun at family dinners.”