“Is he sick?” he asked, unable to avoid voicing the worst thought.
When she didn’t answer right away, he jerked back as if he’d been hit.
“Shit.” He ran his hands through his hair. “What is it? Cancer?”
“Liam, I . . .” She shook her head.
“Fine.” He turned and started walking down the hallway.
“Are you coming to the tree house tonight?” she called after him.
“I need to be with my brothers,” he said without turning around.
When he found Owen and Dylan, they were sitting at a table by the pool. He sat down and wondered what he should tell them. Then he figured that since he didn’t officially know anything, he should keep his mouth shut instead of throwing his speculations around.
“He called Elle?” Dylan asked first.
“Yeah, I only found out because we had just pulled into the parking lot.”
“What did he say to you?” Owen asked.
“He said he was standing in the lobby of his building,” Liam answered.
“Which one?” Owen asked. “We own more than a thousand.”
“Shit.” Liam leaned back. “I . . . assumed the main one.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing with Dad. Never assume. I called Joel. Dad’s not in Destin. He’s calling around to all the other locations and seeing if he’s there.”
“Shit.” Liam tugged on his hair. “Shit.”
“What did he want with Elle?” Dylan asked.
“She won’t tell me.” He shifted. “She said that Dad made her promise not to tell us, yet.”
“Do you think that he’s getting married?” Dylan asked.
Why hadn’t Liam thought of it? Instead, he’d jumped to the idea of his father dying. Hell, is that why Elle hadn’t answered him? Maybe his guess had been so far off the mark that she hadn’t wanted to answer him?
“Who would Dad even marry?” Owen asked.
“With our luck, it would be Ryan,” Dylan said.
“Don’t even joke about that.” Liam cringed.
“He hasn’t contacted the board yet,” Owen threw in, “but that doesn’t mean he won’t.”
“Okay, now what?” Liam asked.
“Now, I go back into town,” Owen answered.
“What about us?” Dylan pointed out. “I’m staying put, no matter what.”
“Me too,” Liam said. Even if he was slightly irritated that Elle wouldn’t tell him his father’s secret, he still wanted to be with her.
Owen turned on him. “You’re just as gone as he is. I can see it—both of you have sucker written on your foreheads.”
“It’s better than fucker,” Dylan joked.
“Still.” Owen stood up. “I was going to hold off, but I see no reason not to return today.”
“What about your work?” Liam asked, glancing around.
Owen stopped. “My work is in Destin.” His eyes moved around the pool area. “This was play.” He turned and walked away, almost bumping into Hannah, who stood two feet away, looking at Owen as if she wished to shoot daggers into his back.
Dylan jumped up. “Have you heard anything more?”
Hannah turned her eyes to him. “No, not yet.” She started to move past them.
“Hannah.” Dylan stopped her by taking her hand. “I’m sure he didn’t mean—”
She jerked her hand free. “He meant it.”
She stormed off.
“What was that about?” Liam asked.
Dylan sat back down. “Our brother is an ass.”
“I’ve known that a lot longer than you . . .” His eyes moved to where Hannah was following Owen down a trail, and suddenly, the light bulb went off. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Dylan sighed.
“Oh, shit.” He leaned back in the chair and desperately wished for a beer, but he was needed behind the bar soon. “Owen and Hannah?”
“Yeah, I caught them . . . fighting yesterday,” Dylan said.
“Shit,” he said again under his breath. “What a mess.”
“I don’t know what’s between you and Elle, but whatever it is, it better not fuck up what I have with Zoey,” Dylan warned him. “I asked her to marry me.”
Liam was silent for a while. “You’ve only known her for a little over a month.”
“Who the hell cares. She’s the one.” Dylan stood. “You know it when it’s real.” He stormed off, leaving Liam to brood by himself until he stepped behind the bar and had to get to work.
He didn’t return to the tree house that night. He felt bad halfway through the night, when he realized Owen hadn’t even returned to their room.
Thinking he must have returned to Destin, he tossed the rest of his brother’s things in his bag the next morning and shoved it in the back of the closet—pissed that he’d leave without saying goodbye. Hell, before coming to the camp, the brothers had only really seen one another a couple of times each year.
It wasn’t as if his brother owed him anything. He didn’t even really know him anymore. It had been seven years since they’d lived together.
“Is someone sitting here?”
He glanced up to the pretty blonde who had taken Ryan’s place in the dining room.
“No.” He motioned. “Lindsey, right?”
“Yes.” She beamed. “I’m still trying to remember everyone’s names. You’re Liam—Dylan and Owen’s brother, right?”
“Yes.” He glanced around. He’d sat in the corner booth, hoping to be left alone, but since the girl was young and obviously inexperienced, he gave her a break instead of pushing her off. Besides, maybe it would cheer him up? She looked like a ray of sunshine.
“Is this your first job?” he asked.
“Does it show that bad?” She frowned into her food.
He chuckled. “No, it’s just . . . you’re young.”
“I just turned seventeen.” She shrugged. “Not that young.”
“No,” he agreed, feeling stupid. He’d hated people calling him young when he’d been that age. “How do you like it here?”
“Oh, it’s fine. Better than where I was.”
“Where were you?” he asked.
“Home, with my stepmother.” She rolled her eyes. “My dad’s military and stationed overseas for the next year.”
“That must be hard.”
“It is with Robin.” She sighed. “You and . . . Elle, are you two . . .”
“Yeah . . . rumors going around?”
She nodded. “Elle is so pretty”—she sighed—“and nice. I’ve never run into someone who was both at the same time.”
“I know what you mean,” he said, then stood up when he realized his plate was empty. “I better get going. I have a class this morning.”
“Oh.” She glanced around. “Okay, thanks for sitting with me.”
“Anytime,” he said and then dumped his tray in the wash area and made his way across the camp to the woodshop.
His mood stayed improved for the rest of the day. Even when he didn’t see Elle for lunch. He stopped by her office after to see if she was hiding out in there, but the door was locked, and she didn’t answer his text.
He thought about texting her again but tucked his phone into his pocket and went for a walk instead.
He wasn’t due to work the pool bar that evening and, to be honest, hadn’t thought of what to do with his free time.
Maybe he’d stop back by the shop and finish the rest of the benches for Aiden.
Instead he ended up at the base of the tree house. He didn’t know if she was up there or not, but his mind started in on his decision to move his stuff. From there, he thought about how to store some of his favorite things in the tiny place.
Two hours later, Elle found him hunched over the small kitchen table with drawings spread out all over the place.
“What’s all this?” She set a box of food down on the countertop. She looked tired and a little paler than normal.
“What?” He glanced down where she
was pointing at the table and came back to reality. He thought about quickly stacking the papers, but she’d already picked one up from the floor and was looking at it.
“These are great,” she said, sitting across from him. “You drew these?”
“Yeah.” He stacked a bunch of the other ones, but she took them from his hands.
“These are really good,” she said, looking over each of his drawings. “What are these for?”
He shrugged. “I was just thinking . . . about how to make some more room.”
“For this place?” She glanced around. “Like a second building?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought we could attach them all, kind of like a fort.”
“They’re small tree houses. Like the cabins, only, in the trees,” she said, looking through each page. “Some of them are . . . are these stilts?”
“It’s how you have to build places over by the beach. I’m not an architect, but . . .”
“I love them. Can I have these?”
“Um, sure.” He felt foolish. “They’re just scribbles. Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She collected them all, even the ones he’d wadded up and tossed in the trash can.
Once she put them aside, she walked over and took the box from the countertop and set it in front of him.
“What’s this?”
“A peace offering.” She sat back down across from him.
He opened the box slowly, giving her a look as if he expected the thing to blow up, which had her chuckling.
“It’s not a bomb,” she joked.
“No, it’s a cake.” He smiled down at the massive chocolate-covered thing.
“I stole it,” she admitted. “I hope Isaac doesn’t quit because of this.” She sighed, looking even more tired than before.
“I thought you’d be with Hannah tonight,” he said after she’d handed him a fork and had gotten one for herself.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because Owen left,” he said, taking a bite of the cake.
“He did?” She frowned, then shrugged and dug into the cake. “He did tell me he was thinking about leaving.”
“You’re not mad?” he asked between bites.
“No, why would I be?” she asked.
“Because.” He set his fork down. “Hannah and Owen . . .” He waited until her eyes grew big.
“I mean, they kissed, but . . .” She closed her eyes. “I’m such an idiot.” She stood up and started toward the door.
He gathered the cake, then quickly cut off a large piece and set it on a plate for himself. “I think she’ll need this more than I do.” He leaned in and kissed her. “Go, save your friend from my stupid brother.”
She took the cake, then leaned up and kissed him again. “Be here when I get back.”
He nodded and watched her leave the place he was starting to think of as his home.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Elle didn’t realize what had just happened until she stepped inside the main building. Liam had just selflessly given up their time together so she could be with Hannah.
As she climbed the stairs, her body ached as if she’d just run a marathon. She was probably coming down with a cold, but she couldn’t afford any more days off. Especially since Liam had just confirmed that Owen was gone. She felt her heart melting at the thought that Liam cared for her friends so much. Even knowing it was his brother that had caused Hannah’s pain.
When she opened the door to the apartment, Scar and Hannah were watching a scary movie on the television.
“What’s this?” Elle said, frowning at them.
“Alien,” Hannah said, waving Elle off. “The original one.”
“Shh,” Scar said, not even glancing in her direction.
“Fine.” Elle shrugged. “I’ll take my chocolate cake and . . .”
The movie was quickly paused as both of her friends surrounded her. The box was lifted out of her hands, and she was nudged into a chair.
“Wine,” Scar said and moved into the kitchen.
“I’ll get the plates and glasses,” Hannah said, retrieving as she talked.
They all sat down. “What’s up?”
“What do you mean, what’s up?” She frowned as a piece of cake was set in front of her, along with a glass of wine. Her head had started pounding, and she thought the sugar would help, so she dug in.
“You don’t bring chocolate unless you’re upset,” Scar said between bites.
“I’m not . . .” She thought about the reasons she’d stopped by the kitchen to begin with and sighed. She’d gone looking for chocolate because she’d felt terrible and had been upset at Liam. After seeing the cake sitting by itself and then stealing it, she’d forgotten her reasons for taking it once she’d spied Liam’s drawings. “Okay, I was, but . . .” Her eyes turned to Hannah. “How are you feeling?”
Hannah’s eyebrows shot up. “Me? I’m fine.” She motioned with her fork. “I didn’t bring cake.”
“Right,” Elle said, drawing the word out. “But Owen went home.”
Hannah chuckled. “Right.” She took another bite of cake. “I know.”
“We’ve been through this,” Scar said with a sigh.
“You’re not upset?” Elle asked, taking another bite of cake. The sugar was helping a little with her aches.
“No.” Hannah sipped her wine. “Should I be?”
“Liam thinks . . . you and Owen . . .” Her frustration had her setting her fork down. “Are you two sleeping together or not?”
Scar gasped for show, causing Elle to roll her eyes at her.
“We had some pretty hot and heavy make-out sessions, but no . . . we didn’t, like, totally do it,” she said in a Valley girl tone.
“Will you be serious for a moment?” Elle reached across the table. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Hannah smiled over at her, but Elle could see pain behind her friend’s blue eyes. “But the cake makes any hurt go away. Thanks for that.”
“I tried to get her to talk earlier,” Scar said.
“Is that why you were watching a scary movie?” Elle asked. “You know Hannah hates them.”
“I thought I could scare it out of her.” Scar chuckled.
“Hey, I’m the one who thought of watching the movie. Besides, it’s a classic, and I figured it was about time I watched it.”
“Seriously?” Elle sighed. “You two are hopeless.” She started to get up, wishing to walk down the hallway and soak in a hot bath instead of making her way across campus again. Then she remembered Liam was waiting for her and smiled.
“Elle.” Hannah gripped her hand. “Thank you.” She squeezed it before letting it go.
Elle hugged her. “If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks. Go, be with your man.”
“Right.” She started reaching for the cake.
“Utt un,” Scar said with her mouth full. “Collateral damage. The cake stays.”
Elle’s chin rose slightly. “Fine, I wanted ice cream anyway.”
“Bring some back here . . .” Scar called after her as she was leaving.
“Nope.” Elle turned and stuck her tongue out at them.
As she jogged down the stairs, she bumped into Aubrey, who was rushing up the stairs, looking a little haggard.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yes.” Aubrey shook her hair, and Elle could have sworn a tree branch fell out of the red strands.
“Did you fall?” Elle reached up and took a leaf out of the mess.
“No.” Aubrey’s eyes narrowed.
“Okay, keep your secrets.” Elle tried to smooth a few more twigs out of her hair. “I left you chocolate cake . . .”
Aubrey swatted her arm away. “You wouldn’t be lying to me,” she said. “Would you?”
Elle laughed. “No, unless Hansel and Gretel have eaten it all, there’s half of it left up there.”
Aubrey hugged Elle, hard. “Thank you, you are the best
.” She rushed up the stairs and called back, “Night.”
Elle made her way back to the kitchen and bumped solidly into Isaac as she was trying to sneak into the freezer. Guilt hit her full force.
“I . . . umm.”
“Coming back for more?” Isaac asked, and for a split second she feared he was angry, but she noticed a slight smile on his lips.
“I needed . . .”
“Ice cream.” He pointed at the chocolate container in her arms.
“Yes.” She nodded. “For . . . um . . .”
“Elle.” Isaac surprised her. “If you wanted cake and ice cream, all you had to do was ask.”
“Can I . . .” she started.
He chuckled. “Take it; there’s more. The cake was an extra, which is why it was sitting out, in case someone wanted a piece.”
“Oh, thank god.” She took a couple of deep breaths, causing Isaac to laugh.
“What did you think, I’d leave because someone stole a cake?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’ve never worked with a famous chef before.”
Isaac leaned closer and whispered. “I’m not like the guys on TV.”
“Thank god for that. I mean, you cook like them, but don’t . . .” She felt her face heat.
“I know what you mean. Go, enjoy. Before that melts.” He nodded toward the gallon.
“Thanks,” she said again. “Night.” She rushed out of the kitchen, unwilling to give the man time to change his mind.
“What did you do? Raid the kitchen?” Liam asked when she returned with the ice cream.
“I . . . wanted more chocolate.” She sat down and handed him a spoon. “Besides, I didn’t finish my piece of cake. Most likely someone else will, but . . .”
He pushed what was left of the large chunk he’d taken earlier toward her. Smiling, she put a huge scoop of ice cream on top of it and dug in.
“How’s Hannah?” Liam asked after a moment.
“She seemed unfazed. But something’s up. I can tell. Chocolate wasn’t powerful enough to get it out of her.” She motioned with her fork. “Yet.”
“Okay.” He chuckled. “What is more powerful than chocolate?”
“Wine,” she said between bites. “But I have an early class and can’t drink tonight.” And wasn’t feeling quite herself to handle it. “Besides, I’m letting Scar work on her tonight. Hopefully, in a day or two, I’ll get my friend drunk, and she’ll spill everything.”
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