by Fields, MJ
“I don’t know what we’re going to do. I mean, can you imagine? It’s not like I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to reopen the inn, but I have a job that I love, and Sophia is jetting off to Europe as soon as she graduates. Plus, we’re way too young to run the place ourselves. Right?”
“I don’t know. Weren’t Millie and George fresh out of college when they got the loan to build this place?” I asked, remembering that detail from the dozens of times George had told the story to us growing up.
Elliot sighed. “Yeah. But Nana and Pops are basically super-human, so that doesn’t count. At the same time, though, that’s kinda my point.” She paused, looking up from the ground to meet my gaze. “Nana and Pops worked so incredibly hard to make this place a success. What if Sophia and I fail? I can’t disappoint them, Bryce. I can’t be like her.”
I took a step forward, instinctively wanting to close the gap and grab her hands. When we were young, on the rare occasion Elliot spoke about her mother, I’d developed the habit of squeezing her hands in mine. I never knew what made me do it the first time, but somehow it seemed to help. To reassure her. To calm her. To make her feel safe. So I kept doing it.
“You’re not like her, El,” I said, giving her hands that familiar squeeze. It was strange how natural the gesture felt all these years later. “And you won’t disappoint them. Not possible.”
“You can’t know that.”
It killed me to see how much El’s deadbeat mother still affected her, that she still plagued this bright, brilliant girl with fears of inadequacy. We might’ve lost touch, but that didn’t change the fact that I knew El was nothing like Helen, and she never would be.
The need to make her see her worth hit me all at once.
“I do know that, Uno.”
“You don’t get it, Bryce. I thought I was going to finally prove that to myself five years ago, when she was supposed to meet me. You remember?” She paused, waiting for a response, but all I could manage was a tiny nod thanks to the mass of dread knotting my stomach. “Well, she never showed. My train wreck of a mother couldn’t be bothered to show her face after she was the one who reached out to me. I just don’t get why. Why reach out to me—dangle a little sliver of hope after fourteen fucking years—only to blow me off?”
Fuck.
Seeing the anguish on El’s face gutted me. That dread crawled up into my chest and squeezed the life out of my heart. This is my fault. I should’ve done more to talk her out of the whole thing. I should’ve called her after I got back to Washington to see what happened.
I thought I’d done the right thing back then.
“El, that’s just it, though. That proves how different—”
The sound of a car door slamming stole Elliot’s attention, and she quickly pulled out of my grip as George, Millie, and Sophia piled out of a Jeep and walked over to meet us.
After a couple minutes of slightly awkward small talk, we made our way across the threshold.
Elliot gave the immediate vicinity a quick scan before turning toward me. “Where do we start, Bryce?”
I knew she was referring to the inn, but a part of me wished she meant where do we start. The difference was, as far as the inn was concerned, I had a solid answer. The other? Good fucking question. How do you turn back the clock to erase the days that became months, and months that evolved into years, turning us into strangers?
Except, we’re not strangers. There wouldn’t be an underlying level of comfort between us if that was the case.
“For now, we just go room by room, and I’ll take notes and photos. You guys can do the same or just make mental notes. I’ve already got a couple of preliminary ideas, but I’d like to get our bearings first, then compare notes after I’ve had a chance to firm up my plans. That work?” I asked, looking between the four of them.
They all gave me similar ‘whatever you say’ looks and offered varying forms of agreement.
I hung back, letting them take in the space first. The architect in me immediately started envisioning the potential changes and improvements that would need to happen first. Having those visions was second nature to me by now, and I could practically sketch ideas in my sleep.
I watched Elliot and tried to decipher what her expressions meant as she trekked through the rooms. I could tell she was overwhelmed, but she was more like her grandparents than she realized. The excitement that crept into her voice as she discussed ideas with Sophia was proof that she shared her grandparents’ passion for the inn.
Eventually, after taking notes based on what I'd overheard from all of them, I snapped my notebook closed and pocketed my camera, satisfied I had enough for a solid initial proposal.
“I think I have everything I need for now. Give me a few days to get the ball rolling, then we can sit down and brainstorm about where to go from there. Sound good?”
Millie and George agreed right away, but Sophia and Elliot became quiet and exchanged looks of uncertainty.
“Nothing’s going to be written in stone. You guys still have time to decide what you’re going to do.”
Elliot nodded and gave me an appreciative smile.
“That sounds wonderful. Will you be ready by Sunday evening, Bryce?” Millie asked.
“Sunday works for me.” Considering my only other Sunday night plans are sitting around, staring at my phone in case something comes up with Peyton.
We finalized plans and made idle chitchat until Elliot received a text and said she had to go. Sophia went with her, leaving me alone with George and Millie.
“She’s single, you know,” Millie offered, drawing my attention.
“Uh…” I started, unsure of how to respond. Thanks? Good to know?
Nothing felt quite right. Did it even matter? Could it even matter?
I wish I knew.
George sighed and muttered something under his breath.
“What?” Millie asked, holding her hands up innocently. “She is. Just letting the young man know. It’s called conversation, George.”
He snorted. “It’s called meddling, hon. You’re going to scare the poor kid off.”
Millie scoffed. “Bryce, dear, tell George I did not scare you off.”
“I’m not…we’re just…” I stopped myself from forming an actual response, turning to face Millie with an eyebrow arched in question.
She smiled sweetly and patted my arm. “Trust me, a man doesn’t look at a woman the way you’ve been looking at Elliot without having such questions. And just between us, I think you’re exactly what she needs right now.”
I wanted to ask her to elaborate on what she meant by that, but she just winked at me and linked her arm through George’s before strolling toward their Jeep.
Huh.
Driving home, I thought back to the last conversation Elliot and I had before I decided to stay in Seattle.
That night, Elliot convinced me not to resign myself to a life of shackles and apathy. That kind of acceptance snuffs out passion and binds you to a life devoid of purpose, she said.
I stayed in Seattle to avoid being weighed down by a future full of unhappiness, and in an ironic twist of fate, that’s exactly what I found there.
Following Elliot’s advice was the best and worst decision of my life.
* * *
I must’ve been delusional to think meeting my cousin on a Saturday morning was a good idea. The dude spent every Friday night in recent memory holed up with a random flavor of the hour. Twenty minutes after we were supposed to meet, my phone pinged with a text from him, apologizing for being late and saying he’d explain when he got to the coffee shop in an hour.
I actually didn’t mind the delay because it gave me more time to go over my sketches. It also gave me more time to let my thoughts drift from the plans for the inn to plans of a whole different kind.
I was flipping through my notes and sipping on my second cup of coffee when Elliot’s voice interrupted my thoughts. Speak of the blue-eyed devil…
> “You know, some people might call this stalking. We don’t see each other once over the past year, now I feel like I see you everywhere,” she said.
I looked up and felt something churn in my gut when I took in El’s appearance. In more ways than one, being this affected by the sight of Elliot Kincaid was completely unexpected.
A knee-length navy blue dress hugged and highlighted the subtle curves of her body, making my fingers itch to explore. A quick glance at her feet confirmed my suspicion about heels being responsible for showing off her toned calves, and I had to force my brain not to think about what it’d feel like to have those legs wrapped around me. I brought my eyes up in an effort to pull my thoughts out of the gutter, but I should’ve known better. Her soft blonde locks were trapped in a tight bun atop her head, and the sudden desire to tug it loose and see her hair fall wild and free was enough to make me suck in a breath and dig my fingers into my thighs.
Elliot was subtly, effortlessly sexy, and I was pretty sure she had no idea the kind of impression her appearance made.
Which only made her that much more appealing.
“Oh, you’re stalking me now?” I teased, closing my sketch pad and picking up my coffee cup to keep my hands busy. “I mean, I was here first, so how could I possibly be stalking you?”
Elliot’s sky-blue eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, but her lips tugged into a smile. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But then again, that’s probably the exact logic a stalker would use.”
“It is. I actually took that straight from my Stalking for Dummies book.”
We both started laughing, and I realized her laugh was still as contagious as it had been when we were kids.
Her eyes fell to my sketch pad. “Are those for the inn?” She stepped closer when I nodded. “Can I get a preview?”
I was about to tell her yes, but only if she joined me, when a barista behind the counter called Elliot’s name and pushed two four-drink cartons across the bar.
“That’s my cue. I’m gonna have an angry bridal party if I don’t get them caffeinated ASAP.”
“Of course. Here, let me help you get that out to your car,” I offered, stepping up beside her and taking one of the cartons before she could protest.
“Thanks. There’s a pretty good chance I would’ve dropped one of them.”
I turned left in the parking lot and came to a stop at her red sedan.
“Tell me again how you’re not stalking me.”
“Hey, you’re the one who showed up at the coffee shop I go to almost every weekend.”
She lifted a brow. “Every weekend, huh? You’re like a stalker’s dream target with that kind of predictability, Bryce.”
“You know this from personal experience?”
“Yep. I’ve been stalking you for a year, just waiting until I had food stains all over my clothes and hair to make my presence known to you. You know, had to make a memorable first impression. Er, second first impression?”
I laughed, but her comment made me realize I still needed to explain myself. I wanted to tell her I’d come close to calling her so often, but stopped each time reality crashed into me. I wanted to tell her everything—why I came back, why I never called her, but I needed more than half a minute to explain all that. So, instead of opening up to her like I needed to, I stepped back and stuffed my hands in my pockets, forcing my eyes to meet hers.
“El, about that…I want you to know I thought about calling you a thousand times. It’s just…there are complications in my life. I know that sounds like a cop-out, but I hope you’ll give me a chance to explain why it’s not. Let me bring dinner tomorrow so we can talk after going over plans.”
“Bryce, you don’t have—”
I shook my head. “I know I don’t have to, Elliot. But I want to. Say yes.”
She hesitated, but slowly nodded her head. “Okay.”
I smiled and gently closed her door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As soon as Elliot’s car disappeared from view, a hand clamped down on my shoulder. “I’d apologize, but that grin on your face tells me you should be thanking me for being late. Who was that? And does she have a sister?”
I turned and shook Xander’s outstretched hand, finally peeling my eyes from the direction Elliot’s car had gone to look at him. With rumpled clothes and an uncharacteristic five o’clock shadow lining his jaw, I’d have bet serious money he was fighting a hellacious hangover. “Jesus, did you even go to sleep last night?” I asked, knowing the answer by the smirk he flashed. “That was Elliot Kincaid. Also, potentially my new client.”
“Why does that name sound familiar?” he asked as we walked back through the coffee shop’s doors.
“Elliot and I were friends when we were kids. Her grandparents’ property backs up to my parents’, and we played all the time. You probably heard me talk about her a lot back then. We lost touch when I moved, but now there’s a good chance I’ll be seeing her a lot.”
Xander nodded and pulled his wayfarer sunglasses off. “That was Elliot? Damn. I guess I forgot Elliot was a chick. No wonder you were smiling. What about now? Please tell me you’re not still in the friend zone.”
I didn’t answer Xander’s question right away because I wasn’t sure how to answer it. Each time I laid eyes on Elliot, my thoughts went way beyond friendly territory, but the same reality that had kept me from calling her before was never far from my thoughts.
Plus, I’d soon be working for her, and any kind of complication in our relationship was a recipe for trouble.
Then again…some of the best things in life are the most complicated.
“I don’t know, man,” I finally answered with a shrug. “Things are different now, for sure. But you know my life isn’t exactly normal. I have responsibilities. It wouldn’t be fair.”
Xander shook his head, displeased with my reasoning. “What’s ‘normal’ these days, anyway? And fair to whom?”
I cut my eyes to him so he could see them roll. This from a guy who barely grasps the concept of responsibility. “Don’t give me that, Xander.”
“I’m just saying you should think about yourself and what you want too, Bryce.”
“So you’re saying I should be a selfish womanizer like you? Bounce from bed to bed, always on the lookout for my next conquest? No thanks.” I sighed, realizing how harsh my reaction was. “Sorry, no offense. You know what I mean.”
He waved off my apology, unaffected by my rude words. Probably because he knew they were mostly true. “None taken. Look, I get it; you don’t want romantic advice from a guy who doesn’t know the first thing about relationships that extend beyond the bedroom. Well, that’s not necessarily true. I don’t discriminate when it comes to a location for fucking.”
I held up a hand to stop him, simultaneously shaking my head. “TMI, Xander. Jesus. Can we just change the subject? Weren’t you going to explain why you’re late?”
Xander threw his arm around my shoulders as I gestured for us to get in line to order. “I met a girl last night. I think I’m in love.”
“Bullshit. Alexander Black doesn’t do love. I believe those are your exact words every time anyone asks about your relationship status.”
“You’ve got it all wrong. Well, not all. I’d never call myself Alexander. That name’s reserved for the ladies, and only in the bedroom. You know…Alexander the Great.”
I stopped and gave him a death glare. “Thanks for that. Now I’m never going to be able to hear your name without making that association. Why do I even bother hanging out with you?”
“Because you have no other friends, and I’m your cousin, so you’re kind of stuck with me.”
“Doesn’t your mom call you Alexander sometimes?”
His smile fell completely as his face twisted into a grimace. “Why the fuck would you say that right now?”
I pointed at him. “Just to have the pleasure of that reaction. Priceless.”
“You’re an asshole, Bryce. The real question
is why do I even bother hanging out with you?”
I shrugged and flashed him a grin. “Because I’m your cousin and you have no other friends, either. Tell me about this girl you love.”
“Well, her name is Leah and she’s a gymnast…”
Six
Elliot
Two weeks ago, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted in life. I loved my job and had zero regrets about giving up my social life to focus solely on my career for the past year. It was a sacrifice I’d gladly make again.
Now?
I must’ve lost my mind.
How else do you explain the fact that I keep letting Bryce seep into my thoughts while I’m on the clock?
Or the fact that I’m actually considering Nana and Pops’s offer?
“I’m sorry?” A man’s voice called from the table next to mine. I’d just wrapped up my last appointment for the day and was mindlessly organizing my notes and folders while I waited for my latte.
I whipped my head up, realizing the man was talking to me.
“Oh, uh, nothing. I guess I was thinking out loud. Sorry to interrupt your…work,” I finished, eyeing the notes and iPad he had propped up with an attached keyboard. A split-second glance was enough to notice the Serenity Hotel website on his screen. Huh. What are the odds?
“Not a problem,” he replied with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “Just doing a little research anyway.”
I nodded, a little curious, but not enough to be nosy. “Enjoy your smoothie.”
He offered me a smile before directing his attention back to his screen.
I let my eyes wander over the stranger’s frame, trying to ebb my curiosity about his ‘research.’ He was what I would call ‘classically handsome’ if I had to label the look. His slim build was cloaked by a navy suit that fit too well to be anything but designer-made, and creases along his forehead plus a handful of grays sprinkled throughout his otherwise inky black hair told me he was somewhere around forty. A bulky Bulgari watch and monogramed silver cufflinks further piqued my curiosity, but my name was called to get my latte before I could act on it.