by Devney Perry
My heart hammered inside my chest as I eased out of her body to collapse by her side. My legs were shaking and my arms boneless.
Kat sprawled on the bed, her breathing as ragged as my own. We were sweaty and sticky, just like I’d wanted.
And for one last, brief moment, I didn’t think about what was to come. The unavoidable conversation. I took her hand in mine and held it like she was my lover.
That short moment was all I got.
Kat shot off the bed, blinking and shoving her hair out of her face. “I, um . . .”
Instead of finishing her sentence, she spun around and raced for the bathroom. The spray of the shower’s water sounded after the door’s lock clicked.
I brought my hands to my face, rubbing away the sex fog. Then I pushed up to a seat, peeling off the condom.
Fuck. What did this mean? Never in my life had I connected with a woman like that. It was . . . my mind was too hazy to come up with the right word. Phenomenal wasn’t strong enough.
I stood on shaking legs and took the condom to the trash can, then sat on the end of the bed, hanging my head forward.
I wouldn’t regret it. Even if Kat said it was a mistake and she wanted to just be friends again, fine. But I wouldn’t regret it.
Maybe we could . . . I wasn’t sure what I wanted.
To date? That sounded cheap for someone like Kat. All I knew was that I’d never be able to look at her the same way again. I’d always see her naked and wild beneath me. For a short time, she’d given me that trust.
Before bolting from the bed like she couldn’t wait to rinse me from her skin.
The sound of my phone ringing jolted me from my stupor and I bent, plucking it from my jeans.
Grandma.
“What’s up?” I answered, trapping the phone between my ear and my shoulder so I could pull on my boxers.
“Well, hello to you too, grandson. Yes, I’m doing well. Thanks for asking.”
“Great. You’re welcome.”
She laughed. “Smartass.”
“Learned from the best.”
“I was just calling to check in. See how you are doing.”
“We’re fine.” Fan-fucking-tastic. But it wasn’t like I could tell Grandma that I was totally messed up over my best friend, who was currently in the shower.
“Good. With that out of the way, I have something to tell you.”
My heart stopped. “What? Is everyone okay?”
“Oh, yes. Everyone is fine. Your dad is covering for you at the facility.”
I rolled my eyes. There was nothing to cover. None of the questions left unanswered had to be solved immediately. We hadn’t even started construction. Dad had just jumped at the chance to make some decisions without any interference.
Whatever. If I didn’t like something, I’d just change it later.
“Nice of him to do that,” I said. “What did you have to tell me?”
“That trip wasn’t for you, Cash.”
I blinked and stood tall. “What?”
“You should be at home.”
“Work will wait two weeks. Besides, it’s not like I’m a critical component.” Yet.
Kat had been onto something in the car. Something I never spoke about. Something I rarely mentally acknowledged.
For the past decade, since I’d graduated college, I’d been treated more like an employee at the Greer ranch than the owner I was.
The only consolation was that the family dynamics were hard for Easton too. Which was why I had been pissed when he’d gone ahead and bought property for the training facility without asking.
But what was I supposed to do? Fight with him about it? I was getting my dream job. Not in the way I’d wanted it, but once the expansion happened, did it matter?
“I’m not talking about work,” Grandma said. “That was Katherine’s trip to get away.”
“I wasn’t going to let her drive off alone. It was a dangerous idea from the beginning.”
She scoffed. “Katherine is tougher than any person I know.”
Grandma wasn’t wrong. “Then maybe I wanted a break too.”
“But it’s not about you.”
“Okay.” Where the hell was she going with this?
“You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me.”
She sighed. “Just don’t dictate how the trip is going to go.”
“I’m not.”
She scoffed again. “Yeah, right. I know you. You’ll play the big brother and suddenly Kat’s vacation will be yours.”
I was not her brother. I gritted my teeth together. “Anything else?”
“Just . . . give her the chance to explore. To think.”
“Think about what?” What the fuck was Grandma talking about?
“About the future.”
My heart stopped. Was this about Kat moving out? Had she already told Grandma? Or was there more?
I was missing something. A big something. But what?
I’d thought this trip was for Kat to take a break from working twelve-hour days and to reconnect with an old friend, but as the days had progressed, the unease in my gut had begun to brew like an angry storm.
I was losing her.
My gut screamed that I was losing her.
The water from the shower stopped and the curtain scraped across its rod. “Bye, Grandma.”
Without waiting for her response, I ended the call and tossed the phone aside. Then I wadded up my jeans and shirts and picked up my boots, taking them to the closed bathroom door. “Kat?”
“Yeah?” she called back.
“I’m going to go back to my room. Take a shower.”
“O-okay.”
“Do you want to meet for dinner?” I held my breath, unsure if I wanted the answer to be yes or no.
Before Grandma’s call, I would have insisted, but her warning, the way this trip had been going, something had me on edge. Maybe I’d been pushing Kat too hard.
Like my grandmother had said, it wasn’t about me.
I stood, waiting for her answer. The water from the shower dripped and dripped. Finally, she said, “No.”
No.
What the fuck had we done?
I walked out of her room and into mine, knowing things would never be the same.
Chapter Eight
Katherine
Pathetic. Idiotic. Reckless. Pretty much any way I studied what had happened between me and Cash yesterday, there wasn’t a positive adjective to be found.
Cash had kissed me.
Cash had kissed me everywhere. I should have been elated. I should have been laughing and happy. For years, I’d dreamed that he’d take notice and just kiss me.
Wish granted.
Except now I felt like a fool.
Thank God I’d disappeared to the shower to hide my happy tears yesterday.
I’d used the five-minute shower after we’d had sex to compose myself. To have my quick, squealing fit of joy. Cash had worshiped me. There was no other way to describe it. He’d made my body come alive.
As I’d stood under the spray, I’d worked up the courage to tell Cash how I felt. To tell him I wanted more than his friendship.
I was grateful that he’d left before then. I hadn’t had to witness him re-dress and leave. He’d saved me from an extravagant rejection. Part of me wanted to be furious with him. Mostly, I was ashamed.
Did he know I had feelings for him? I’d thought my hug from the first night had tipped him off, but maybe I’d guessed wrong. Maybe he’d just been in a strange mood. But if he didn’t know I had feelings for him, why come to my room yesterday? Why have sex with me? Mind-numbing, toe-curling, soul-shattering sex.
The right thing to do would be to talk about it, but we hadn’t spoken. Not one word since he’d left my room. There’d been no hello in the hotel lobby this morning. When I’d come down to check out, he’d been in the lounge area adjacent to the front desk—bag packed, ball cap on and ready to leave.
/> I was too scared to bring it up. Reliving painful experiences through conversation wasn’t my favorite pastime and Cash walking out on me yesterday had been excruciating.
Yesterday’s drive had been awful. Horrifically awful. It paled in comparison to today’s.
We’d arrive in Heron Beach today and though I was nervous to see Aria after all this time, I could hardly wait for another person to buffer the conversation.
But first . . . the apology I’d planned to give Cash was still overdue. And the truth was, I needed Cash today.
I needed him by my side when I saw Aria.
What if she’d changed for the worse since our parting at the junkyard? What if her life was in shambles? It would break my heart. My reunion with Gemma had been different. She’d found me, and we’d been on my turf. What if Aria didn’t want to see me, or worse, remember me?
I clutched the steering wheel and took a deep breath. I was the general manager of a multimillion-dollar resort. I’d earned the position without a college degree or professional training. I could mend fences with my best friend.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I said. “For what I said in the car.”
Cash looked over and gave me a small smile. “Me too.”
“I don’t want to fight.”
“Kat.” My name sounded pained and his voice hoarse. He blew out a long breath. “Yesterday. In your room. I—”
“What if we don’t talk about it?” Because if he wanted to forget it, if he wanted to pretend like it hadn’t happened, my heart would break. So I’d say it first. “What if we forget it ever happened?”
“No.”
I blinked, glancing over at him. His jaw was tight. His hazel eyes waiting. “What do you mean?”
“It happened, Kat. I don’t want to forget.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Truth? I have no fucking clue.”
“Me neither.” I sighed, so unbelievably relieved he didn’t have an answer. That he didn’t want to forget about me.
“You’re my best friend. The reason I was so pissed in the car yesterday was because you’re right. I don’t want to admit you’re right. Sometimes, it’s easier to shut it off.”
“I understand.” After all, I did the same thing. But this . . . this wasn’t my mother or my childhood that I could avoid. I saw Cash every single day. “We had sex. This changes everything.”
“Yeah, it does.” He nodded. “But today’s a big day. Let’s get through it. Find Aria.”
“Shut it off.”
“For today.”
I breathed another sigh, this one of gratitude. I could use a day or two off to let yesterday’s emotions simmer.
“How’s today going to go?” Cash asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Nervous?”
“Yes. I’m sneaking up on her with this car idea. We had an investigator look into her life. She might not remember me or appreciate that I’ve searched her out.”
“I think you’re worrying for nothing. It’ll be good.” He reached over, his finger ready to flick the tip of my nose, a gesture he’d done a thousand times, but before he touched me, he retracted his hand.
I tried not to let it hurt.
Cash rubbed his bearded jaw. “Grandma called yesterday while you were in the shower.”
“Oh.” Carol would call him but not me? I’d tried her, Liddy and Gemma last night and no one had answered. No one had returned a single one of my texts or voicemails. What the hell? Didn’t anyone miss me? It made sense why’d they’d call Cash. He was real family. I was the employee on vacation.
“She just wanted to check in.”
“That’s good. Did she say anything about work?”
“No.”
My heart sank. I put out metaphorical fires daily at the resort. Didn’t anyone need my help? How was it that I ran myself ragged for days but no one had reached out? No one. Not even Carol.
But that meant she was handling it. I was replaceable.
It wasn’t something I wanted to admit.
Work was my life and without it, who was I? The friends I had were from the resort. Everyone in my life was connected to the Greers. I hadn’t dated a man in seven years because I hadn’t had—or made—time.
I’d been so focused on the tiny sphere of my world that I’d forgotten there was more beyond.
And what a beautiful world.
The highway had been bordered by thick bushes, limiting the view beyond the road. But as the Cadillac crested the top of a hill, the greenery cleared and there it was.
Heron Beach. Beyond the town, the ocean stretched.
White, foamy waves broke against a smooth, sandy beach. On the horizon, blue sky met the Pacific, gray waters and the colors blurring into an ombre line.
“I’ve never seen the ocean,” I whispered, my eyes trapped on the view. The car slowed as I pulled my foot from the accelerator, wanting more time to savor this view. I rolled down my window, wanting to feel the air on my face. The salty air filled my nostrils and I held it in my lungs.
“Really?” Cash asked. “What about California?”
“No.” Temecula was an inland town and it wasn’t like Mom had believed in mother-daughter vacations to the beach. “It’s beautiful.”
And suddenly, Montana’s firm hold, the grip it had caught me with at eighteen, began to loosen.
What if I didn’t live and work in Montana my entire life? What if I gave Oregon a try? I could see myself living here, walking along the beach each morning with a dog who chased his own tail. I could ride a bike with a wicker basket around the quaint, small town. Maybe one of the beach condos would fit into my price range.
Before this trip, I’d never had a desire to travel the world. To smell new scents. To explore new towns. All I’d ever wanted was to carve out a place to stay.
A home.
Londyn had set out in the Cadillac to run away. She’d wanted to create a new life and she’d found one in West Virginia. Gemma had found her place in Montana.
What if I’d been thinking about this all wrong? This trip was for me to clear my head and put my feelings for Cash aside. What if this wasn’t a vacation, but my own fresh start?
The idea startled me. I blinked, forcing it away.
No. No way. I couldn’t leave Montana.
Except I could.
“Cool place,” Cash said, sitting straighter in his seat and pulling me from the craziest idea I’d had in years—crazier even than sex with my best friend.
I hummed my agreement.
From a distance, Heron Beach was exactly as I would have pictured an ocean tourist destination. My foot pressed on the gas, ready to see it up close. As we dipped down the hill, the ocean dropped out of view, hidden by the trees towering above. Buildings sprouted along the highway.
I followed the signs into town, slowing as we hit more traffic near the coast. The downtown streets of Heron Beach teemed with people who smiled as they wandered and shopped.
Flowerpots overflowed with florescent blooms. Sun-soaked shingles covered nearly every storefront. Most businesses were retailers who probably flourished this time of year with the crush of tourists. The hotels along the way were small, likely with a capacity of ten to fifteen guests.
None were as grand as the Greer Ranch and Mountain Resort but they had a different kind of charm. I could own a hotel of that size on my own. I’d been saving for years and my nest egg would probably be enough for an oceanfront cottage. And I had that check Carol had given me for ten thousand dollars.
“Where are we going?” Cash asked, again dragging me back to reality.
I picked up Gemma’s sticky note that I’d set on the dash earlier, rereading the hotel’s name. “The Gallaway.”
He dug his phone from his pocket and entered the hotel’s name into the GPS.
I followed its directions through Heron Beach until a grand hotel, one that could compete with even the Greers’ establishment, filled the
view. “Wow.”
Four stories of taupe siding trimmed in white. Gleaming windows that offered guests a magnificent view of the ocean roaring in the distance. The Gallaway sat on a rocky cliff—twenty feet of jagged, charcoal rock that dropped to flawless, golden sand.
The hotel’s parking loop was tall and wide enough to accommodate a tour bus and two stretch limos with room in between. I pulled the Cadillac to the curb and before I could touch the handle to open the door, a valet was at my side.
“Welcome to The Gallaway.”
“Thank you.” I stepped out, smiling as I took in the entrance.
The front doors were open and the floor’s stones were made of the palest gray. Any accent was done in white or gold to keep the ambience bright and airy.
Everything in Montana was decorated with dark tones and earthy pieces. I’d finally gotten so sick of the wood that when Carol had given me the thumbs-up to make some enhancements, I’d added light touches wherever possible. From upholstered dining room chairs to freshly painted walls to quilts and pillowcases. Any surface where I’d been able to swap a shade of brown or maroon for something cream or white, I hadn’t hesitated.
Cash met the bellhop at the trunk. The poor kid tried to retrieve our sparse luggage, but Cash shot him a look of dismissal. He carried the bags. Got it.
I rolled my eyes and dug for Carol’s quarter I’d tossed aside earlier. I found it and set it in the metal ashtray, then hooked my purse over a shoulder and handed the keys to the valet. My eyes traced over every detail from the overflowing planters that bracketed the entrance to the gold G embedded in the stone tile beneath the entrance’s threshold.
If the entrance was this nice, I couldn’t wait to see the guest rooms. I’d be taking mental notes during our stay of things we could incorporate at the lodge.
Cash glanced over his shoulder to where the valet was easing the Cadillac through the loop. “I hate valet. Always screwing something up with your vehicle. Don’t be surprised if we get it back with a scratch.”
“He’s not going to scratch the car.”
We didn’t have valet at the resort because we didn’t cater to mass numbers of guests. At most, we had ten to fifteen cars in the parking lot. Most guests flew into Missoula and our shuttle service brought them to the property. We offered an experience, not a luxurious hotel that turned guests over by the hundreds.