Her hair is softer than silk.
When another shudder grabs hold of her body, I rub my hand up and down her back until she settles.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. My heart aches with regret. “I should have stopped him.”
“You did,” Angel whispers. Her breath is a whisper against my skin. “You helped me again.” She tips her head back to meet my gaze. “You keep doing that. Helping me. You must be tired of it by now.”
Something yanks hard in my chest.
“I’ll never get tired of it,” I tell her as I hug her again. “Anytime you need me, I’ll be there. That’s a promise.”
But what about keeping your distance?the cowardly part of me asks.
Screw distance,I tell it.Not when Angel needs me. And not when this feels so right.
CHAPTER 6
ANGEL
“Areyou sure you don’t want to ski with us?”
Haley gestures at the carpet lift with her ski pole, and Ronan quickly dodges to avoid being jabbed by the tip. “You could learn to ski, too, Mom. It would be fun.”
Ronan grabs the end of her ski pole and gently angles it back towards the ground. “Watch where you’re pointing those, okay?” he says kindly. “We want to make sure we don’t accidentally hit someone.”
“Oh!” Her eyes go wide. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Her lower lip pokes out. “Does that mean the lesson’s over? Because I was being unsafe? That’s what our PE teacher does when the boys get too rough.”
“No, the lesson isn’t over,” he replies with a smile. “Thatwaspart of the lesson. Learning to ski isn’t just about figuring out how to use the skis. It’s learning about safety.”
Relief brightens her expression. “Oh. Okay. That makes sense.” She glances over her shoulder at the small beginner slope Ronan’s going to start her on. “I guess I need to be extra careful,since there are a lot of little kids here. And I’m so much bigger than them.”
“That’s a good idea,” I tell her. “But I think that as long as you follow Ronan’s instructions, you’ll be just fine.”
“Because he’s a pro,” Haley agrees. “And a medic.”
“Not a pro,” Ronan says with a chuckle. “You won’t see me running down the double black diamonds anymore.”
“But you’ve been skiing for thirty-five years,” she points out. “That’s what you said. That’s even older than my mom.”
His smile fades for a second. Because he doesn’t like being reminded of his age? Or because he doesn’t like the reminder of how much older he is than me?
Personally, it doesn’t bother me. Sure, eleven years is a pretty big gap. But it’s not like he’s old enough to be my dad or anything. And besides, most days I feel a lot older than twenty-eight.
Ronan doesn’t strike me as the type of guy who would stress overly about his age. Especially not when he’s clearly still in the prime of his life. His brown hair doesn’t show a hint of gray, and his face is still relatively unlined except for a few tiny creases that appear when he smiles. Though I haven’t seen his muscles since the half marathon last summer, I haven’t forgotten the feel of them pressed against me at Blissful Brews the other day.
Plus, he just has this air of confidence to him. Like he knows who he is and makes no apologies for it. I saw it in the way he dealt with Phil, which I have to admit in hindsight was pretty darn sexy. He even carries that confidence into skiing—gliding across the snow like his skis are an extension of his body.
That’s another reason I don’t mind staying at the base of the hill while Ronan accompanies Haley to the top. This way, I get the best of both worlds. I get to watch Haley learn to ski and see Ronan looking extremely capable and sexy while he’s teaching her.
“Thanks for making me feel old,” Ronan says to Haley. His smile is back like it was never gone.
“Not as old as Frank,” she replies. “He’s sixty-five. He told me.”
“Haley.” I catch her attention. “It’s not really polite to talk about adults’ ages. Remember what happened with Mrs. Adamson?”
She makes a face. “Mom. I wassevenwhen I said she looked old. I wouldn’t tell her thatnow.”
Ronan makes a choking sound. “You told Mrs. Adamson she looked old?”
