by Devney Perry
The lobby was as stunning as the entrance, with gleaming marble floors and a chandelier that hung low, its crystal facets fracturing the light everywhere into tiny rainbows.
I spun in a slow circle, taking it all in before Cash nudged me toward the front desk.
The blonde behind the counter greeted us with a wide smile. “Welcome to The Gallaway.”
“Thank you.”
“Name?” she asked, fingers poised above her keyboard.
I scrunched up my nose. “We don’t have a reservation. Do you have any rooms available by chance?”
“Oooh.” The woman cringed. “Um . . . let me see what I can find. We’re at the beginning of peak season so I’m not sure if we have any openings.”
Why hadn’t I called ahead? Oh, that’s right. Because this trip had been a whirlwind and the situation with Cash had occupied my every waking thought. I crossed my fingers, hoping as the receptionist’s nails clicked on keys that she’d find us a room. I really didn’t want to find another place to stay but the chance of a vacancy was slim if the activity in the lobby was any indication of occupancy.
People streamed in and out from what looked like a long deck on the back of the hotel that overlooked the ocean. Some carried coffee cups from the espresso bar located past a set of french doors. Others milled around in the gift shop.
“Ah, you’re in luck.” My heart soared as the blonde’s smile widened. “I’ve got one standard king room available. It’s a garden view room on the first floor.”
No. Damn. I needed to start leading with the number of rooms. “We actually need two rooms so—”
“We’ll take it.” Cash pulled out his wallet.
I should argue and insist on a hotel with two rooms. Things were tense enough as it was without us sharing a bed, but this place was a hotel resort manager’s dream.
The woman’s fingers flew as she checked us in. The smile on her face never faltered, even when Cash grumbled at the price.
I leaned close to whisper. “You do realize how much we charge, don’t you?”
“Garden view,” he whispered back.
Staying at the Greer lodge cost thousands of dollars per night. For the chalets, we charged a premium. It was the reason we catered to the wealthy and famous. With our on-site amenities, excursions and gourmet food from Chef Wong, we offered an experience you couldn’t find anywhere else.
Paying four hundred dollars for a garden view room was nothing. Besides, it wasn’t like Cash was hurting for money.
With our key cards in hand, I picked up my suitcase from where Cash had rested it on the floor. I turned away from the desk only to remember why I was here and whirled back around to the clerk. “Could I trouble you for one more thing? I’m looking for Aria Saint-James. We’re old friends.”
“Would you like me to page her? I can have her call your room.”
Gemma’s private investigator had done his job well. “That would be great. Thanks.”
When I turned away again, expecting to see Cash behind me, he was gone. I scanned the area and spotted him just before he stepped out onto the deck so I hurried to catch up.
The moment I stepped outside onto gray-stained boards, the smell of the sea encircled me. The scent of a fresh Montana spring morning was hard to beat, with its green grass and cold mountain mix. But this was invigorating. The breeze rushed past my face, cooling my skin. The gulls crowed above our heads.
I joined Cash at the deck’s railing and soaked in the view. The ocean stretched before us and in that moment, I didn’t mind feeling small.
Waves rushed to the sand, breaking and fizzling as they faded away. The shores were full of people walking in bare feet, the water erasing their footprints as it rushed to the beach.
I shielded my eyes from the sun and scoped out the deck. They’d filled the space with Adirondack chairs, chaise lounges and white benches. Between the seats were pots of blooming flowers and spilling foliage.
Someone here had a green thumb. I suspected who and had a feeling the garden view wouldn’t be so bad.
The ocean’s calming rush soothed away the tension from the trip. Now that Cash and I weren’t cramped together in the Cadillac, it was easier to breathe. I dropped my suitcase at my feet to lean my forearms on the railing.
Cash stood with his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. He stared at the water, his eyebrows two dark slashes above narrowed eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
He sniffed the air. “It stinks like fish.”
I laughed. “For a man who spends most of his days around cow pies and horse apples, I didn’t realize you were so sensitive to smell.”
He shot me a scowl, then glanced over his shoulder to take in the hotel’s backside. His chin tipped up as he scrutinized the four floors and their balconies above. “I bet the standard room is half the size of ours at the lodge.”
“Probably.” We lived in Big Sky Country and the resort’s standard rooms were the most spacious I’d ever seen.
“Four hundred bucks.” He scoffed. “What a rip-off.”
“You didn’t have so many complaints about the last two hotels.”
Not that he would. It was no contest. His problem with The Gallaway was that this place could offer some competition and he was in a shit mood.
Cash was normally a cheerful man who wore a smile often and laughed in earnest. But he was a Greer and not only were they stubborn, they had a grouchy streak that ran deep.
“Should we go somewhere else?” I asked.
“No.” He bent to pick up my suitcase. “Let’s go see our garden view.”
I shook my head, blowing out a long breath. If he wanted to sulk, I’d leave him in our room and go explore the ocean alone.
As we reentered the lobby, I noticed more of the classic details. They’d put mirrors on the walls instead of art, making the space seem larger. Every other glass door was monogramed with the same G as the entrance.
Cash led the way and before disappearing into the alcove with the elevators, I took one last glance at the lobby. A door behind the receptionist desk opened and a man in a charcoal suit emerged.
He was tall with broad shoulders and a trim physique. He spoke over his shoulder and when the woman he’d been addressing emerged from beyond the door, my hand slapped over my heart.
Her hair was a shade darker than I remembered but her smile was exactly the same, mischievous and daring. The man said something that made her laugh and her shining brown eyes drifted through the lobby as she followed him around the counter. Her gaze swept past me, then snapped back, just as Cash appeared at my side.
She blinked, then that infectious smile spread across her face.
“Are you coming?” Cash asked, his gaze following mine. “Wait, is that—”
“Aria.”
Chapter Nine
Cash
“I cannot believe you’re here.” Aria laughed, shaking her head like Kat wasn’t sitting beside her at the table. She’d said the same, done the same, after crushing Kat in a hug in the lobby earlier today. I’ve never seen two women hug so hard. The moment Kat had spotted Aria, the women had rushed toward one another, colliding in a fierce embrace.
They’d hugged again before Aria had returned to work, then again when we’d met this evening at the hotel’s steakhouse.
“I know.” Katherine smiled with her friend. “I was actually worried you wouldn’t recognize me and I was going to have to introduce myself.”
You’re unforgettable. I swallowed the words. Three days ago, I could have said them and made Kat blush. They wouldn’t have been anything but a friendly compliment. She would have teased me for being gooey and I would have slung an arm around her shoulders and flicked the tip of her nose.
But that was three days ago. Now a compliment wasn’t simply a compliment. A compliment like that might make Kat think I was flirting. That it was foreplay. Maybe it was.
Maybe it had always been.
“I’d never forget you.”
Aria put her hand over Kat’s, then let her go to pick up the menu. “I’m starved. I haven’t eaten here in a while but I always leave full.”
“Any recommendations?” I asked.
“The steaks are incredible,” she said.
“Sold.” I closed my menu and set it aside. Steak was a staple in my diet and as a co-owner of a large Montana cattle ranch, I supported the beef industry whenever possible. But I doubted The Gallaway could deliver a filet I could slice with my fork.
This place was too pretentious. Kat was fascinated with the hotel but something about the place made me uneasy. Maybe it was because I’d never seen her so awestruck. Our resort was ten times better, so why was she drooling over everything?
Kat ran her finger down the stem of her water goblet. “I love these.”
Of course she did. Which meant in a month, the resort would have all new water goblets.
The scrape of silverware on plates and dull conversation filled the room. There wasn’t an empty table in sight. Waiters bustled around wearing white-collared shirts and black vests. Our dining room staff was only required to wear slacks and a button-up with the resort logo on the breast pocket. If Kat made them don a vest, we’d have a riot in the staff quarters.
“Sorry I couldn’t meet with you earlier,” Aria said. “We’re right at the beginning of peak season and I’ve been swamped now that the rain has finally stopped and everything is in full bloom.”
“No problem,” Kat said. “I should have called first.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Aria folded up her menu and set it on top of mine. “I love surprises.”
Katherine giggled. “You haven’t changed.”
“My sister says that all the time.” Aria leaned her elbows on the table. “What did you do today?”
Kat glanced at me, finally remembering I was sitting at the table too. “Not much. We did some exploring around town.”
After Kat and Aria’s reunion, Aria had returned to work while Katherine and I had dropped off our luggage in our room. One look at the bed and Kat had tossed her suitcase aside and announced she wanted to go shopping.
I hated shopping but it was better than staying in that room alone, dwelling on yesterday.
What were we going to do?
Part of me wanted to explore this thing, see if we were as combustible in bed a second and third time. But the other part of me longed to cling to our friendship and do everything in my damn power to put us back to normal.
I didn’t want to lose her.
If we tried this thing, if we failed, I’d lose Kat.
“It’s a cute town, isn’t it?” Aria asked.
Kat nodded. “So cute.”
It was just okay. After we’d dropped off our bags and I’d surveyed the room—as I’d expected, it was nice but smaller than any of our guest rooms—we’d left the hotel to wander downtown.
The sidewalks had been crowded with visitors like us. She’d been interested in the stores but completely engrossed with every bed and breakfast that we’d passed. We’d popped into a few shops and she’d bought some souvenirs to take home.
The town’s economy was clearly driven by tourism. There were knickknack displays on every block. For fifty dollars, Kat had bought a pale blue glass jar filled with authentic Oregon seashells as a gift to Mom. Easton and Gemma were getting a driftwood coaster set. She’d picked up T-shirts for Dad and Granddad, then a postcard for Grandma.
She knew that my grandma didn’t love trinkets, so instead, she’d decided to send a postcard that Grandma would receive before we ever got home. She’d written a note on it when we’d arrived at the room before dinner, then had disappeared to find a stamp. The task had taken her up until the very moment she’d come back to the room to change clothes and get ready for dinner with Aria.
As she’d searched for the mysterious stamp, I’d unsuccessfully tried to nap. I hadn’t gotten much sleep in last night’s hotel room, not with Katherine’s scent lingering on my skin and her taste on my lips. But sleep was difficult with so much unknown swirling in my mind.
Every thought was consumed with Kat.
I stared at her as she browsed the menu. It was impossible not to think of how she’d felt in my arms and how her smooth skin had felt pressed against mine. She was wearing a pair of skintight jeans and sandals. Her top was another silky piece with thin straps that I’d never seen before and its rust color made her eyes vividly blue.
I forced my eyes away to the silverware resting on a pressed white napkin. When I glanced up, looking anywhere but at Kat, Aria’s eyes were waiting.
Aria was taller than Kat—most people were. Her hair was dark and her eyes warm with a slightly cunning edge. She smiled effortlessly but there was a hesitancy behind her gaze. Either she was sizing me up or she held people at bay.
Probably both.
The waiter arrived with a bottle of wine and he poured Kat the sample. She sipped it, then nodded and lifted the glass for more. After he’d made the rounds, filling our glasses, he took our order and then left us to talk.
“Tell me about your life.” Aria shifted in her seat to face Kat, giving her friend her undivided attention. “How was Montana?”
“Good. I’m still there, working at the resort.”
“Not just working,” I corrected. “She’s the manager. Kat runs the whole show.”
Katherine blushed. “Not exactly.”
“Yes, exactly.” Why was she being modest? She’d accomplished so much, made so many improvements to the resort. I, along with every member of my family, was amazed at what she’d accomplished in the span of a few years.
Systems were streamlined. Guest satisfaction had never been higher. The staff was happy and turnover was at an all-time low. It was because of Kat and I was damn proud of her.
“And how did you two meet?” Aria asked.
Kat gave me a small smile and damn it if that quirk of her lips didn’t make my heart skip. “Cash’s family owns the ranch and resort.”
“Ah. How long have you been together?”
I opened my mouth to answer but Kat beat me to it with a wave of her hand. “Oh, no. We’re not together. We’re just friends. And coworkers.”
“Don’t forget roommates.” There was a bitter edge to my voice.
“And roommates,” she added.
Why did it bug me that she was so quick to dismiss us as friends? We were friends. And coworkers. And roommates.
I gulped from my wineglass, hoping it would take the edge off. It was better with Aria here to defuse some of the tension, but she didn’t erase it entirely. The undercurrents tugged and tormented. I should have stayed in the room and let this be a private reunion.
“Ah.” Aria lifted her own glass, studying me over the rim as she took a drink. “Well, what brings you roommates to Oregon?”
Kat took a deep breath and a long drag of her wine before answering. She and Aria hadn’t spoken in the lobby earlier, deciding to save the conversation for dinner, when it wouldn’t be rushed. She set her wine down and smiled at her friend. “You, actually.”
“Me? Why? I thought it was just a coincidence.”
“No, not really.” Katherine bit her bottom lip.
I shifted my leg, extending it beneath the table so my foot touched hers and when she looked up, I gave her a nod. For the first time since yesterday, neither of us stiffened from the touch. This, right here, was why I was at the table. Tonight, Kat needed me to be her friend.
“Okay, let me start at the beginning,” Kat said. “You know that old Cadillac that Londyn lived in?”
“Yeah.” Aria nodded.
“A while back, Londyn had it shipped to Boston, where she was living. She bought it from Lou and had it completely restored.”
“Lou,” Aria whispered. “Haven’t heard that name in a while. Did you hear that he passed? Clara found out from someone in Temecula about a year after he died.”
“Yeah,” Kat said. “Gemma told me.”
�
��You’ve talked to Gemma?”
“She actually lives on the ranch.”
“She’s getting married to my brother,” I added. “And bosses us all around.”
Aria laughed. “Why am I not surprised? How is she?”
“She’s wonderful,” Kat said. “It was actually her idea that I come out here but let me back up. Londyn had the Cadillac in Boston. She’d just gone through a nasty divorce and decided to drive the Cadillac to California and find Karson. But she got a flat tire in West Virginia and ended up meeting her husband, Brooks, so the California trip never happened.”
“Is she happy?” Aria asked. “Londyn?”
“Yeah.” Kat smiled. “I don’t talk to her often. She’s closer to Gemma than me, but she’s happy. They have a little girl named Ellie and she’s pregnant again. Due any day now.”
“That’s so good to hear,” Aria breathed. “I think about them, everyone, once in a while. I’m glad she’s happy. Gemma too.”
It had always struck me as odd that Kat hadn’t kept in touch with the kids from the junkyard. After such a harrowing childhood, why wouldn’t they have bonded together for life? But then again, I lived in Clear River, Montana. My graduating class had been fifteen people, most of whom still lived around the area, working on their family’s farms and ranches. Kat and her friends had scattered across the country.
“Gemma was in Boston with Londyn,” Kat said. “I lost touch with both of them after they left Montana, but those two stayed connected. Last year, Gemma sold her company in Boston and kind of . . . quit her life. She went to visit Londyn in West Virginia and Londyn suggested she finish the trip to California instead.”
“Did she find Karson?”
Kat shook her head. “No. She came to find me in Montana. And fell in love with Easton.”
My brother had told me a few months ago that he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky. The day that Gemma had rolled onto the ranch in the Cadillac was the best day of his life. Granted, at the time he hadn’t realized it. But after the two of them had stopped trying to tear one another’s heads off—tearing clothes off instead—they hadn’t been apart.