She managed a watery smile. “You did so mean to push and pry—it’s what you do.”
“Well, okay,” Lily conceded. “But we didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“Although tears can be therapeutic,” Grace said soothingly. “So you shouldn’t be afraid to let them out.”
“I don’t think I can stop them now,” Brie admitted. It was as if she’d built a dam around her emotions and that dam had suddenly given way, allowing seven years of repressed feelings and grief to flood over her.
She told her friends everything: from the first terrifying suspicion that she was pregnant, to Caleb holding her hands while they waited for the result of the home pregnancy test, followed by his impulsive proposal and their impromptu trip to Vegas, all without telling anyone in either of their families about their plans. And then the fallout, when they finally got back to Haven and shared the news about their wedding and the baby with their parents and grandparents.
“Your grandfather actually had a heart attack when he found out you’d married a Gilmore?” Lily asked.
“I don’t know if the announcement of our wedding directly caused the cardiac arrest, but yes, he had surgery the next day.” She plucked another tissue from the box as her eyes overflowed again. “Four days after that, I had a miscarriage. And since the baby was why we got married, losing the baby meant there was no reason for us to stay married, so I went to see a lawyer and had divorce papers drawn up.”
“I’m sorry,” Grace said again, clearly at a bit of a loss for words.
“You don’t have to apologize. I should have told you both everything a long time ago.”
“We would have been there for you, if we’d known,” Lily said gently.
“Even without knowing, you were there for me,” Brie assured her friends. “When I first went to New York, I didn’t want to talk about it. I couldn’t. The hurt was too raw. Not even Regan or Kenzie knew all the details of what happened. And then...well, the more time that went by, the more I didn’t want to remember everything that happened.”
“Is this really the first time you’ve seen Caleb since you moved away?” Grace asked.
“It is,” she confirmed.
“That’s why you always avoided going home,” Lily realized.
“And why you weren’t thrilled about coming to Vegas,” Grace guessed.
“Well, I never actually believed I’d run into him here,” Brie said.
“And I never would have suggested coming here if I’d known,” Grace said, almost apologetically.
“It’s fine,” Brie said, wishing it was so. “And it was inevitable that our paths would cross sooner or later. Now at least that first awkward meeting is done—and it wasn’t even all that awkward.”
Her friends exchanged a glance.
Brie frowned. “Or was it more awkward than I realized?”
Lily gave a slow shake of her head. “No. At least, awkward isn’t the word I would have used to describe it.”
“I’d suggest sizzling as a more appropriate descriptor,” Grace added.
“Well, it is one hundred and six degrees outside,” Brie remarked.
“And about a thousand degrees hotter between you and your sexy ex,” Lily noted.
She couldn’t dispute the accuracy of her friend’s description. Because even though almost half of the more than eight million people who lived in New York City were male, she’d never met a man who turned her on as much as Caleb Gilmore. “He did look good, didn’t he?”
“I never understood the cowboy mystique,” Grace confided. “Now I do.”
“Of course, it doesn’t matter how ruggedly handsome he is,” Lily hastened to add. “We hate him for breaking your heart.”
Brie managed a smile, touched by the unswerving loyalty of her friends. “When I left Haven, I broke his, too,” she admitted.
“He shouldn’t have let you go,” Lily said.
But Grace shook her head. “He had to let her go.”
“Why?” Lily demanded.
“Because he loved her,” Grace said simply. “And he knew that she didn’t want to stay.”
“I couldn’t stay,” Brie told them. “There were too many memories—and too much heartache—in Haven.”
“But you loved him, too,” Grace noted.
“When I was a teenager,” she agreed. “And maybe for a long time after.”
“And maybe still,” Lily said, obviously choosing not to believe her friend’s previous denials.
“I’m not still in love with him,” she said again.
“Are you sure?” Lily pressed. “Because all the evidence suggests that you still have some pretty deep feelings for your cowboy.”
“What evidence?” she challenged.
“The fact that you didn’t mention his name to either of us—even once—in the seven years that we’ve known you.”
“That’s somehow proof that I’m still hung up on him?” Brie challenged skeptically.
“Actually, I think I agree with Lily on this one,” Grace said. “If Caleb didn’t matter to you, you wouldn’t have been so careful to avoid talking about him.”
“Or maybe I just didn’t want to talk about him,” she suggested as an alternative. “Maybe I didn’t want to think about the fact that I’d been in love and had my heart broken.”
“We’ve all had our hearts broken,” Grace pointed out.
“Yours probably more than most,” Lily interjected.
Grace shrugged, because it was true. “I do seem to fall in and out of love frequently and easily. But sharing the joys and heartaches with friends is part of the journey—and the healing process.”
“You’re right,” Brie said. “And I do feel better now that I’ve told you about my ill-fated marriage, but I don’t want to talk about Caleb anymore.”
“We’ll table the discussion for later,” Lily agreed. “Because you don’t have a lot of time left to get ready before he’s going to be knocking on the door.”
“I wouldn’t have to worry about that if someone hadn’t given him our room number,” Brie remarked, with a pointed look at Grace.
Her friend shrugged. “What can I say? Apparently I’ve got a weak spot for handsome cowboys.”
“So maybe you should go for a drink with my ex-husband,” Brie suggested.
“I wasn’t invited,” Grace pointed out.
“I’m still not sure why I was,” she admitted.
“Don’t worry about his reasons,” Lily suggested. “This is your opportunity to prove to your ex—and to yourself—that you’re one hundred percent totally and completely over him.”
“If you’re sure that you are,” Grace said.
“I am,” she insisted.
But as she stood under the spray of the shower and thought about the evening ahead, Brie couldn’t deny that seeing him again made her suspect she wasn’t as totally and completely over Caleb Gilmore as she wanted to believe.
* * *
Seven years after she’d walked out of his life, Brielle Channing still had the power to take his breath away—a fact that was proved to Caleb when he spotted her by the pool earlier that afternoon.
He’d given himself a minute to draw air back into his lungs and think about what he was going to say so that he didn’t stutter and stumble over his words, and he’d thought that first meeting had gone rather well. But seeing her had sent his whole world into a tailspin.
Although he’d made it to the chapel to witness the exchange of wedding vows, Joe had to elbow him in the ribs—twice—to prompt him to hand over the ring when requested by the officiant. Because the whole time he was standing beside his friend, he was thinking about Brie.
His first love. His wife. The woman he’d always believed would be the mother of his children.
The only woman he’d ever loved.
/> Yeah, he knew it was pathetic. And no way in hell would he ever admit it aloud to anyone else, but it was a truth he couldn’t deny to himself. For Caleb, it had always been Brie. She wasn’t just “the one”—she was his everything.
But she’d walked away from him, forcing him to acknowledge that she didn’t feel the same way. To accept that the love they’d shared was gone, the vows they’d exchanged were broken, the lives once joined together were now torn apart.
And he’d moved on. Or at least continued to live his life, working beside his father and brother, grandfather, uncle and cousins at the Circle G. He’d even built the house that he’d once imagined he would share with Brie, but he lived in it alone, and the three extra bedrooms planned for their children remained empty and silent.
Not forever, of course. Just because he’d lost Brie didn’t mean he’d given up hope on finding another woman to fill his heart and share his home. The only problem was, every other woman he met wasn’t quite right—because no other woman was Brie.
His brother believed that Caleb loved the memory of Brielle more than he’d ever loved her. Liam had encouraged him to see her again, insisting that he wouldn’t be able to move on with his life until he’d put his past with Brie behind him. Caleb didn’t think his brother was any kind of an expert, but since Liam had recently gotten engaged to Macy Clayton—a single mother of year-old triplets—Caleb was forced to acknowledge that his brother might know a little bit more about relationships than he did.
So tonight, he was going to have a drink with Brie—and finally confess the secret he’d held close to his chest for seven years.
Chapter Three
Caleb knocked on the door numbered 1268 and mentally braced himself to see her again. This time, it wouldn’t be a surprise. This time, he would be prepared.
Except that nothing could have prepared him for the stunningly sexy woman in the little black dress and skyscraper heels who suddenly appeared before him.
He felt breathless and a little dizzy, as if he’d been sucker punched. Then she smiled, a follow-up jab that nearly brought him to his knees.
“You’re punctual,” she noted.
“And you’re—” his gaze skimmed over her, from the sleek fall of pale blond hair that fell past her shoulders, to the deep vee at the front of her dress and the short skirt that hugged her hips and thighs, down long bare legs that went on and on to the narrow feet tied into strappy sandals that added four inches to her height “—wow.”
Her smile widened as she stepped back to allow him entry to the suite. “I left my denim and flannel in Nevada when I moved away. And because Lily helped me pack, I didn’t have anything more appropriate for a drink with an old friend.”
“I’m not complaining,” he assured her. But while the dress and shoes were nice, he suspected that he would have had the same reaction if she’d been dressed in a pair of jeans and an old shirt. Because Brielle had always been sexy, regardless of what she was wearing—and especially when she was wearing nothing at all.
Which was definitely not something he should be thinking about right now.
He cleared his throat and attempted to shove the tantalizing image to the back of his mind. “Now I’m really glad I didn’t take the time to change after the wedding,” he said, keeping his tone light.
“You look good in a suit,” she told him.
“I feel naked without my hat,” he admitted.
She chuckled softly. “I’ll bet you’re missing your boots, too.”
“I am,” he confirmed. “But Joe put his foot down with respect to my footwear.”
“The things we do for our friends,” she mused.
“Speaking of—where are Grace and Lily?”
“They went down to the casino.” She slid a key card into her handbag.
“You didn’t want to join them?”
“I was reminded that I had other plans,” Brie admitted.
He glanced around the suite and briefly considered suggesting that they stay in and order up drinks. But while that option would afford them more privacy, the proximity of the bedroom might be too much of a distraction—at least for him.
“Do you want to go to The Gilded Lion or The Reservoir?” he asked instead, opening the door for her to exit.
“I assume I can get a glass of wine at either, so I’ll let you decide,” she said, moving past him.
“It looked like you were drinking something fancier than wine at the pool earlier,” he noted.
“Several things fancier,” she acknowledged, as he closed the door behind them and checked to ensure that it had latched. “That’s why I’m sticking with wine tonight.”
He punched the button to summon the elevator. “Let’s try The Gilded Lion,” he suggested. “And maybe get something to nibble on along with the wine. I haven’t had a chance to eat anything all day myself.”
“Sounds good to me,” she said.
They rode down to the main level in silence and were quickly seated in a cozy booth by the hostess of the lounge.
After perusing the drink menu, Brie opted for a Napa Valley Merlot; Caleb ordered a draft beer and an appetizer sampler.
“How was the wedding?” Brie asked, after their drinks had been delivered.
“Short and sweet. And...nice,” he admitted. “I had some reservations, but Joe and Delia seem really happy together.”
“I still can’t believe it. I never imagined Joe Bishop as the marrying kind.”
“Seven years ago, he wasn’t,” Caleb agreed. “But most of our mutual friends are married or in committed relationships, some even with kids, and Joe decided he wanted the same thing.”
“But why the quick ceremony in Vegas?”
“I guess not every bride dreams of a big fancy event,” he remarked.
But they both knew that Brie had done so, because they’d spent hours talking about the wedding they planned to have one day. Of course, that had been a long time ago—before she’d gotten pregnant, when they’d let themselves believe that their families would celebrate their love rather than object to the nuptials.
Back then, she’d envisioned riding to the ceremony in a horse-drawn carriage and walking down the aisle in a designer dress with a bouquet of pink roses. Instead, she’d traveled more than four hundred miles in an old pickup truck to exchange vows in front of a fake Elvis wearing tattered blue suede shoes.
“And a positive pregnancy test can change a girl’s dreams,” she noted.
He wondered if her casual tone was an accurate reflection of her feelings or merely a balm to cover old wounds. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the wedding you wanted,” he said to her now.
“It wasn’t your fault, Caleb. And it’s ancient history, anyway.”
Which was his cue to speak up. “Actually, it’s—”
“So why did Joe and Delia decide to elope?” she interjected to ask again.
He suspected that she wasn’t as interested in the details of a wedding between a groom she’d lost touch with a long time ago and a bride she’d never met as she was in not hearing what he wanted to say. And though he couldn’t let her walk away from him again without knowing the truth he’d kept hidden for too long, he allowed her to steer the direction of the conversation, at least for now.
“Delia lost her father a few years back, and she didn’t want a traditional wedding without him there to walk her down the aisle,” he explained.
“What about Joe’s family?” she asked. “What do they think about the elopement?”
“Well, his mom gave him his grandmother’s ring, so I have to assume she knew what he was planning and didn’t have any objections.”
“An engagement is different than a wedding,” she pointed out, perusing the appetizer platter that had been set on the table and selecting a deep-fried ravioli.
He swallowed a mouthful
of beer before venturing to ask, “Do you think your parents would have been okay if we’d announced an engagement before we got married?”
“It doesn’t really matter at this point, does it?”
“Maybe it matters to me.”
She dipped the ravioli in marinara sauce and popped it into her mouth. “Well, my grandfather might have had his heart attack before we ever exchanged vows,” she said, when she’d finished chewing. “And then we wouldn’t have needed to get a divorce.”
Though her tone was deliberately light, he sensed the lingering hurt beneath her words. “Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said.
Her brows drew together as she lifted her glass to her lips and sipped her wine. “My grandfather?”
He shook his head. “The divorce.”
She set the glass down again and traced a fingertip slowly around its base. “I’ve spent enough time today dredging up our past—can we talk about something else instead?”
“We need to talk about this,” he told her.
“Tell me about the Circle G,” she said, ignoring his entreaty.
“Really?” he asked dubiously. “You want to know what’s going on at my family’s cattle ranch?”
“I want to hear what you’ve been doing over the past seven years,” she said. “I know, from conversations with my sister, that your brother’s been busy with The Stagecoach Inn, Katelyn’s law practice is booming and Sky’s still tending bar at Diggers’, but I haven’t heard much about you.”
“Have you asked?” he wondered.
“That would be a good way to start the gossip mill churning, wouldn’t it?”
“The gossip mill never stops,” he pointed out.
“Well, I have no desire to add grist to the mill.”
“I heard you were back for the baptism of Regan’s twins,” he remarked.
“Proof the gossip never stops. But yes,” she said, and smiled then, obviously thinking about her infant nieces. “I’m not just Piper and Poppy’s aunt, I’m also their godmother.”
He wished he could ask her if she ever thought about the baby they’d lost, and all the ways their lives would have been different if their baby had lived. But he bit back the question, instinctively understanding that, even after seven years, bringing up the subject would rip a scab off a still-raw wound for both of them.
One Night with the Cowboy Page 3