Maybe This Christmas. Sarah Morgan

intensity.

      Jess zipped up her jacket and pulled her hood over her hair. “You should invite Brenna over for dinner or something one night.”

      “Why would I want to do that?” Tyler strode through the snow. “It’s enough trouble cooking for you without adding another person. And no woman in her right mind would want to set foot over the threshold of our house. If they didn’t break a limb in the hall, they’d drown or be attacked by dogs.”

      “We could tidy up, and Brenna loves Ash and Luna. She’s always saying she’d love a dog, but she’s too busy working to have one.” She jogged alongside him to keep up with his long stride.

      “Seems like the two of you have talked about more than school.”

      “She’s cool.”

      He scooped up snow and threw it at her, and she squealed and ducked. “Dad! Behave.”

      “I’ve been cooped up with family night. I need to have a little fun.”

      “You should start dating. It’s not natural for you to spend your evenings with me.”

      Tyler thought of all the years he hadn’t had his daughter with him and looped his arm around her shoulder. “I like spending evenings with you when you’re not being a pain in the a—neck.”

      “You were going to say ass.”

      “I was not. And I don’t need to be fixed up by a—a—how old are you again?”

       “Thirteen!”

      “I don’t need to be fixed up by a thirteen-year-old.”

       CHAPTER FOUR

      THE ANTICIPATED SNOWSTORM hit during the early hours of the morning, bringing the worst weather locals had seen for years. Across the state there were power outages and havoc on the roads. Branches snapped and windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the intensity of the snowfall. The Highways Department plowed and sanded, and schools were closed.

      Snow Crystal escaped all but the much longed for snowfall, which coated the mountains, the forest and the trails in a deep, thick layer of white.

      The resort’s efficient snow-clearing operation had been underway for a few hours by the time Brenna left her lodge. The path that led through the forest to the Outdoor Center had already been cleared, and she trudged through the winter-white, her feet sinking into the snow, grateful for her warm clothing as she felt the sting of cold on her cheeks. She breathed in the smell of pine and paused for a moment, savoring the muffled silence that always followed a heavy fall of snow.

      It wasn’t even seven o’clock but Élise was already in the gym, pounding on the treadmill while music shook the walls of the room that had been built as part of Jackson’s development of the spa. Glass walls overlooked the forest, and the trees loomed, ghostly white, out of the darkness.

      Brenna winced at the throbbing beat and dropped her bag on the door. “Is this French? I don’t know what she’s singing about, but I’m really sorry it happened to her, and I think she needs therapy.”

      Élise didn’t slow her pace. “She is angry because a man has treated her badly. Me, if a man did that to me I would—” She made a throat-slitting gesture, and Brenna shook her head as she peeled off her jacket.

      “How does Sean sleep at night with you next to him? Does he hide all the sharp knives?”

      “He is a surgeon. He is very skilled with a knife. If I chose to kill him, that would not be my way.”

      “Good to know.” Brenna stepped onto the elliptical machine. “Did he make it to the hospital this morning? The roads must be in chaos with all this snow.”

      “He stayed last night. He had a full operating list today and didn’t want to risk being snowed in. I slept alone.”

      “Ah—” Brenna hit start “—so that explains your mood and the pounding music.”

      “There is nothing wrong with my mood. My mood is as good as it ever is before the sun rises.” Élise ran as if she were being chased by a bear. “And you know I hate the gym. Me, I would always rather be running outdoors. I feel like a rodent on this treadmill. When I lived in Paris, always I ran outdoors.”

      “I can’t imagine running in a city.” Brenna scooped her hair into a ponytail. “You’d be breathing in fumes and dodging traffic.”

      “Who is breathing in fumes?” A sleepy-looking Kayla walked into the gym, her gaze fixed on her phone as she scrolled through her emails. Her blond hair was bunched untidily on top of her head, and her oversize sweater slid off her shoulder. “Who decided this was a good time to exercise? It’s barbaric.”

      Brenna adjusted the controls. “It’s the same time we met every day in the summer to run around the lake.”

      “But it was daylight. Now it’s dark, and I hate the dark. Any chance we could start this an hour later?”

      Élise glanced across at her. “What time did you start work when you were working for that fancy company in New York?”

      “5:00 a.m., but I was in my own apartment at the time. Back then I worked with reasonable people. No one expected me to show up at a gym and exhaust myself physically before my day started.”

      Élise lifted her eyebrows. “As if you haven’t been exhausting yourself physically all night with Jackson.”

      Kayla gave a smug smile. “That’s different.”

      “Isn’t that his sweater?”

      “It might be.” Her phone rang, and she checked the number. “It’s Lissa in Reception. Excuse me, fellow morning masochists, I need to take this. Hi, Liss, how’s it going?” Still listening, she dropped her bag on the floor. “Wow—that’s great news. Yes, I know it’s a lot—don’t worry, I’ll handle it. Leave it to me.” She hung up, and Brenna increased her pace.

      “What’s great news? What are you handling now?”

      “A run of bookings!” Kayla did a pirouette. “We’ve had another twenty since last night. The snow is bringing them in like wasps to a honeypot.” She typed an email quickly. “This storm is exactly what we needed. I’m starting to think there’s a possibility we could even be full.”

      Élise wiped her brow with her forearm. “And this news is enough to make you dance? I will never understand you.”

      “That’s fine, because I don’t understand you, either. Or je ne comprends pas vous, as you would say.”

      Élise winced. “That is not what I would say. Your French is truly terrible. I beg you, please speak only English.”

      “I have to tell Jackson. God, I love my job.” Grinning, Kayla dialed, tapped her foot impatiently and then pulled a face. “His phone is switching to voice mail. Where is he?”

      “Probably looking for his sweater.”

      Brenna intervened. “Knowing Jackson, he’s already somewhere in the resort sorting out a problem.” She thought about the year before, when they’d all been worried that the business might go under. Jackson had been gray and exhausted with the pressure of keeping the family business going and handling sensitive family issues. “What you’ve done is an incredible achievement, Kayla. Great job.”

      “Team effort. I get them here, Élise gives them food they’ll never forget and you show them the best time on the slopes so they want to come back. We should do a staff gathering, open champagne or something. Make a fuss. Get some excitement going. It would be motivational for everyone after all the uncertainty. I’ll suggest it to Jackson.” Kayla pressed Send on her email. “I need to talk to him because if we’re full, that puts