Sarah Morgan - Snow Crystal Trilogy

Kayla thought about Elizabeth, trying to fill the gap in her life with cooking. “Could your mother help? She obviously loves feeding people.”

Jackson lowered his glass. “That,” he said slowly, “is a great idea.”

“Maybe she wouldn’t like working with Élise.”

“She loves Élise. They talk recipes all the time. Élise is always popping over there to sample whatever my mother has in the oven. And you’re right—feeding people keeps her happy. Cooking relaxes her, which is why your idea is such a good one. She needs something new to focus on. I’ll talk to them both tomorrow.” He sat back as lobster ravioli was placed in front of them, and Kayla noticed how much attention Tally paid Jackson.

“Some people are pleased you’re here.” She waited until the girl had walked away to make the observation, and Jackson smiled.

“That will be the people who are terrified of Walter. And maybe the people who can do basic math and understand that this place needs paying guests.” He played it down but Kayla had already seen enough to know the staff worshipped Jackson. She suspected it wasn’t just because he was the one standing between them and unemployment.

She picked up her fork and looked at her plate. “This looks amazing.”

“Élise insists on using as many fresh, local ingredients as possible, and she changes the menu on the fly depending on what’s available.” He waited while she took a mouthful. “Is it good?”

“It’s sublime—” She closed her eyes as flavor exploded on her tongue, and when she opened them again he was watching her, lids half-lowered in a way that took her right back to that moment in the forest.

“Jackson—”

“You must eat out all the time in New York.” His voice was level and steady, as if they hadn’t just generated enough heat to light the candle in the center of the table without the use of a naked flame.

Kayla relaxed slightly. If he could ignore it then she could ignore it, too.

“I’m usually paying attention to the client, not the food.” She took another mouthful, wondering why this felt more like a date than a dinner meeting. “So Élise is your star?”

“Not my only star. We’re building up a good team here. Brenna is awesome. Not just a talented skier, but a gifted teacher. She’s a PSIA level 3 coach.”

“PSIA?”

“Professional Ski Instructors of America. Level 3 is the most advanced qualification. Brenna grew up here, but she spent four years working with me in Switzerland and another two in Jackson Hole, so she’s an experienced and gifted teacher. She can teach anything from a three-year-old who can’t stand on skis to a teenager who wants to ski deep powder. Now Tyler is back, he is going to help her. Were your earrings a gift from a lover?”

The shift from professional to personal gave her whiplash. “I bought them for myself when I got my last promotion.”

“A woman who buys diamonds for herself.” He reached for his wine. “I wonder what that says about her.”

“It says she knows what she wants and doesn’t wait around for someone else to buy it for her.”

“You got something against a man buying you gifts, Kayla?”

“Not in principle.” She stabbed her fork into another delicious mouthful. “But in practice a man buying a woman gifts usually means they’re in some sort of relationship, and I don’t do relationships.”

“Relationship is a broad term. Covers a lot of possibilities.”

“Mmm—” she chewed “—and I’m equally bad at all of them. How is your langoustine?”

“Delicious. What makes you think you’re bad?”

“Evidence and experience. Why are we talking about this and not Snow Crystal?”

“Because for five minutes of my life I’d like to think about something other than Snow Crystal.”

She realized how utterly all-consuming it must be, trying to haul this place back from the edge, especially with Walter standing in his way.

“You have a difficult task. Which makes what you’ve accomplished all the more admirable.” She glanced sideways. “Not a single empty table.”

“Élise will be having a nervous breakdown.”

Kayla thought of the fire she’d sensed in the other girl. “One person’s nervous breakdown is another’s opportunity. It’s exciting. I think she’ll fly.” By the time she’d cleared her plate, she was sure of it. “That was incredible. What you’ve created here—” she tapped her fingers on the table, thinking. “You need a different strategy for the restaurant than you do for the rest of Snow Crystal.” When he raised his eyebrows, she continued. “The Inn should have its own identity.”

He leaned back, listening. “Go on.”

She outlined her thoughts, relieved to focus on work because the alternative was focusing on him. When she paused to gauge his reaction he was watching her with those dangerous blue eyes that drew her in.

Her mind blanked.

The people around her faded.

She forgot the restaurant and the other diners. Forgot everyone except him. And still he looked at her until her heart kicked her chest like the hooves of a wild horse trying to escape captivity.

The silence was agonizing. The tension, torture.

And she knew he felt it, too, because when he spoke his voice was thickened and rough.

“When you’re passionate about something, your whole face lights up. I love that. I love your energy and drive.”

Her hands were shaking, so she put down her wineglass. “I’m passionate about making this work for you.”

“Why?”

It shouldn’t have been a difficult question to answer. He was a client. But those weren’t the words on her lips. “Because I can see how much it matters. I can see what you have riding on it.” Forcing herself to focus, she outlined more suggestions, checked her hands weren’t still shaking and reached for her phone so that she could make some notes. “What do you think?”

“What I think,” he said slowly, “is that no matter what the situation or the conversation, you always bring it back to work.”

“Work is the reason I’m here. I think we need to make dining here as personal an experience as possible. Maybe Élise could give away some kitchen secrets, offer recipes that diners can re-create at home. We can post photos of the food and maybe the occasional one of the chefs at work.” She was talking too fast and too much.

She knew it.

He knew it.

He leaned forward, still watching her. “What happens if you don’t talk about work?”

“You’re paying me to talk about work.”

“Your light was on at 2:00 a.m. and you were up again at five. Why don’t you sleep, Kayla?”

The knowledge that he could see her cabin from his barn gave her a jolt. “If you saw that, you must have been awake, too.”

“I was working on budgets and forecasts. Not my favorite occupation for two in the morning. And now I want to forget about work.”

She didn’t want to forget about work. It was vitally important to her that she didn’t forget about work or she’d start thinking about him and the chemistry. And that kiss. Oh, God, that kiss .

He was a client and she wasn’t used to blurring the lines.

“Tell me about growing up at Snow Crystal.”

“I’d rather talk about you.”

“I’m boring.”

“Most people who work hard, play hard.” He sat back as Tally removed their plates. “You don’t seem to be one of those.”

“I have fun doing what I do. My clients are beneficiaries of that.”

“I can think of at least ten minutes earlier today when you weren’t thinking about work.”

That moment had been simmering between them all day.

“What happened earlier was a mistake, Jackson.”