that burned in his own.
He thought of all the jobs that were piling up at Snow Crystal. Jobs that needed his attention. Then he thought about the years he’d missed out on being with his daughter. “I’ll be there.” He strolled through to his recently renovated kitchen, cursing under his breath as cold seeped through his socks. “Jess, you’ve been dripping snow through the whole house. It’s like wading through a river.”
“That was Luna. She rolled in a snowdrift and then shook herself.”
“Next time she can shake herself outside our house.”
“I didn’t want her to get cold.” Watching him, Jess pushed her hair behind her ear. “You called it our house.”
“She’s a dog, Jess! She has thick fur. She doesn’t get cold. And of course I called it our house. What else would I call it? We both live here, and right now there’s no chance of me forgetting that!” He stepped over another patch of water. “I’ve spent the past couple of years renovating this place, and I still feel as if I need to wear my boots indoors.”
“I love Ash and Luna. They’re family. I never had a dog in Chicago. Mom hated mess. We never had a real Christmas tree, either. She hated those because she had to pick up the needles.”
Tension and irritation fled. The mention of Jess’s mother made Tyler feel as if someone had stuffed snow down his neck. Suddenly, it wasn’t only his feet that were cold.
He clamped his mouth down on the comment that wanted to leave his lips. The truth was that Janet Carpenter had hated just about everything. She’d hated Vermont, she’d hated living so far from a city, she’d hated skiing. Most of all, she’d hated him. But his family had made it a rule not to say a bad word about Janet in front of Jess, and he stuck to that rule even when the strain of it brought him close to bursting. “We’ll have a real tree this year. We’ll take a trip into the forest and choose one together.” Aware that he might be overcompensating, he reverted back to his normal self. “And I’m glad you love the dogs, but that doesn’t change the fact you should keep the damn living room door closed when they’re in the house. This place is no longer a construction site. The new rule is no dogs on sofas or on beds.”
“I think Luna prefers the old rules.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “And you’re not supposed to say damn. Grams hates it when you swear.”
Tyler kept his jaw tightened. “Well, Grams isn’t here, is she?” His grandmother and grandfather still lived at the resort, in the converted sugarhouse that had once been the hub of Snow Crystal’s maple syrup production. “And if you tell her, I’ll throw you on your butt in the snow, and you’ll be wetter than Luna. Now go and finish your assignment or I’ll get the bad parent award, and I’m not prepared to climb onto the podium to collect that one.”
Jess beamed. “If I promise to hand in my assignment and not tell anyone you swear, can we watch skiing together in your den later?”
“You should ask Brenna. She’s a gifted teacher.” He was about to reach for a beer when he remembered he was supposed to be setting an example, so poured himself a glass of milk instead. Since Jess had moved in, he’d disciplined himself not to drink from the carton. “She’ll tell you what everyone is doing wrong.”
“She’s already promised to help me now I’ve made the school ski team. Have you seen her in the gym? She has sick abs.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen her.” And he didn’t let himself think about her abs.
He didn’t let himself think about any part of her.
She was his best friend, and she was staying that way.
To take his mind off the thought of Brenna’s abs, he stuck his head back in the fridge. “This fridge is empty.”
“Kayla’s giving me a lift into the village later so I’ll pick something up.” Her phone beeped, and she dug it out of her pocket. “Oh—”
Tyler pushed the door shut with his shoulder and then caught sight of her expression. “What’s wrong?”
“Kayla texted to say she’s tied up with work, that’s all.”
“Sounds painful. Never mind. I’ll go to the store tomorrow.”
Jess stared at her phone. “I need to go now.”
“Why? We both hate shopping. It can wait.”
“This can’t wait.” Her head was down, but he saw color streak across her cheekbones.
“Is this about Christmas? Because it’s not for another couple of weeks. We still have plenty of time. Most of my shopping gets done at three o’clock on Christmas Eve.”
“It’s not about Christmas! Dad, I need—” she broke off, her face scarlet “—some things from the store, that’s all.”
“What can you possibly need that can’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Girl stuff, okay? I need girl stuff!” Snapping at him, she spun on her heel and stalked out of the room leaving Tyler staring after her, trying to understand the reason for the sudden mood explosion.
Girl stuff?
It took him a moment, and then he closed his eyes briefly and swore under his breath.
Girl stuff.
Comprehension came along with a moment of pure panic. Nothing in his past life had prepared him to raise a teenager. Especially not a teenage girl.
When had she—?
He glanced toward the door, knowing he had to say something, but clueless as to the most sensitive way to broach a topic that embarrassed the hell out of both of them.
Could he ignore it?
Tell her to search the internet?
He ran his hand over his face and cursed under his breath, knowing he couldn’t ignore it or leave something that important to a search engine.
It wasn’t as if she had her mother to ask. He was the only parent in her life. And right now she was probably thinking that was a raw deal.
“Jess!” He yelled after her, and when there was no response, he strode out of the kitchen and found her tugging her boots on in the hall. “Get in the car. I’ll take you to the store.”
“Forget it.” Her voice was muffled, her hair falling forward over her face. “I’m going to walk over to the house and ask Grandma to drive me.”
“Grandma hates driving in the snow and the dark. I’ll take you.” His voice was rougher than he intended, and he stretched out a hand to touch her shoulder and then pulled it back. To hug or not to hug? He had no idea. “I was going to the store anyway.”
“You were going tomorrow, not today.”
“Well, now I’m going today.” He grabbed his coat. “Come on. We’ll pick up some of that chocolate you like.” Still not looking at him, she fiddled with her boots, and he sighed, wishing for the hundredth time that teenage girls
