by Nicole Helm
That’s when Lilly recognized the look Hayley was giving Sam, and the non-look Sam was giving Hayley, because she’d been on both ends of that.
She might have just learned a little lesson about not keeping things from her fiancé, but she wasn’t about to share her suspicions on this one.
* * *
Hayley was very nearly vibrating. The nerves that assailed her were unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Even deciding to come to Gracely and not telling her family about it hadn’t been as nerve-racking as standing here in front of Brandon and Will.
They appeared to be completely stunned, as though they didn’t know what to do. Which was a problem, considering she was kind of depending on them to know what to do. They were the ones who wanted to get to know her. They needed to be the ones who understood how this worked. Because right now all she could manage was standing next to Sam and hoping that the words either came to her or to Brandon before another five minutes passed.
“I . . . I don’t want to interrupt your day,” she managed. “B-but I just wanted to let you know that I . . . um. I guess I’m ready maybe to sit down and talk at some point—”
“Now. We can do it now.”
Hayley was a little taken aback by Brandon’s exuberance. He seemed to hold himself tense and terse, much like Sam, but in a far more intimidating way. She didn’t get the impression Brandon was hiding any dark secrets or horrible pain like Sam was.
No, Brandon just seemed with-it. Especially with Lilly standing next to him, looking all pretty and precise in a loose-fitting polka-dot top and a bright red skirt, her glossy blond hair perfectly pulled back.
They were an intimidating couple together and intimidating separately, and Hayley didn’t know how to approach them, except suddenly she was stepping forward. It took her a few seconds to realize she had been propelled forward not by her own force of will, but by Sam’s hand discreetly exerting pressure on the small of her back.
She glanced up at him, but he was still determinedly averting his gaze.
Maybe she was losing her marbles, but it felt like he was giving her something with that little push. Encouragement. She’d just needed to feel as though someone had her back, just needed that little push.
Which was stupid, because Sam obviously had Will and Brandon’s back over hers. They were the ones his allegiance belonged to, even if Brandon had said that thing about him being a son of a bitch.
“Hayley.” Lilly took a few steps toward her. Kindly. Hayley didn’t want to tense or appear afraid, but she couldn’t help it either.
This was all too much. She should’ve waited. She should have gone home and slept on it. She should have planned out what she wanted to say, because right now, all she really wanted to do was cry. Which she would blame on exhaustion. If she had a good night’s sleep and a plan she would be fine.
Fine.
Sam stopped her retreat, and she was glad he did. She needed the reminder she was here for a reason. She had chosen this.
She had stood up to this grumpy man who was now giving her some support, so she could certainly stand here and talk to her half brothers.
“Why don’t you sit down on the chair,” Lilly said, clasping her hands in front of her. “I’ll get some refreshments. You guys can sit and just . . . chat.”
She smiled encouragingly and Hayley nodded, probably looking like a bobblehead doll. Stiffly she moved to the chair. She glanced back at Sam to see if he would stay, to see what exactly was going on in that head of his, but Lilly had linked arms with him, clearly against his will, and was dragging him toward the little kitchenette in the back.
Hayley gulped and looked back at Brandon and Will. Brandon had taken a seat next to Will on the leather sofa, and even though they didn’t look identical, the resemblance was so striking.
For most of her childhood she’d focused on how she looked different than her mother. Lighter skin, lighter eyes, tall instead of short, slim instead of plump. Looking at these near-mirror images of each other, she still felt so damn different.
She swallowed before taking a deep breath, and then letting it out. There were similarities too. It wasn’t that they didn’t exist—she had her mother’s hair and the Evans’ eyes. The problem was she’d always focused on the differences.
She didn’t want to do that anymore.
“I have been nervous about meeting you and talking to you, because I know that my . . .” But it wasn’t just my, not with them. “Our father paid my mother to disappear, and I’m kind of glad he’s dead and I never had to meet him,” she said in a rush. “Which was probably not at all what I should’ve led with.” She closed her eyes, feeling shaky and stupid.
“Hayley.”
She looked up into two very compassionate expressions.
“We may have grown up with him, and I’m not sure I can say I’m happy he’s dead.” Brandon looked torn. For the first time she realized he must have as many demons as Sam, or even herself.
“He was not a good man,” Will continued for Brandon. “He was not a good person.”
“And everything he did in regards to you and your mother, we disagree with one hundred percent,” Brandon added, regaining some of that very nearly regal air to him. He was a man used to being in charge, good at it.
He reminded her of Mack a little bit, and that at least eased some of the nerves. Mack had always been a good man, and if Brandon was like him . . . If pretty, vivacious Lilly was going to marry him, if Sam trusted him . . .
What did she have to be so damn nervous about?
“I’m sorry that we couldn’t . . .” Brandon stopped, seeming to search for words as he glanced at the kitchenette. “I hope your mother . . .”
“My mom is married to a great guy. And I had a great childhood. I was loved and taken care of.”
She saw something like relief and maybe even jealousy cross both their faces. It had never occurred to her that they had had to grow up with a man who would be willing to do what he’d done to her mother. It’d never occurred to her that a man might not love the children he’d claimed unconditionally, and that they might not have a mother who was just as loving and fierce as her own.
“I’m sorry you didn’t have that,” she offered, genuinely, sincerely, hoping it had some effect on them. She really, truly was sorry.
“I’m sorry we didn’t have you.”
At that sentiment, Hayley couldn’t stem the tide of tears. It was all too much, and she was too tired, and they weren’t at all intimidating or scary. They didn’t demand to know what she wanted, they just listened. Apologized for something they’d had nothing to do with.
“We don’t want to overwhelm you,” Will said gently.
“No. No, it’s fine.” She sniffled and tried to get ahold of herself, and Brandon handed her a tissue, which she took and used. “I don’t know why I was so afraid. I don’t know why . . .” She shook her head. This was all so new, she wasn’t going to blurt everything out. “I’d like for us to get to know each other. If you want to.”
“We do,” Brandon said emphatically.
“That’s twenty-some years of little-sister torture we missed out on,” Will offered.
She managed a wobbly smile in his direction. “My stepbrother did his best, but I suppose I could stand a little more.”
“I’m glad you had someone there. That you had a loving family,” Will said, so sincerely her heart pinched.
“I wish—”
But before she could finish, Brandon clapped Will on the shoulder. “We had each other. It wasn’t always terrible.”
Will smiled ruefully. “Mostly because Bran was always the one bossing me around.”
Lilly finally reappeared, her eyes suspiciously bright. “I brought some lemonade and cookies.” She placed a tray on the coffee table and then slid into the slim space next to Brandon. He immediately put his arm around her shoulder and placed his other hand on Lilly’s stomach.
Hayley almost felt bad for Will, alone
there on the couch. Blank faced and—if she was getting better at reading all the expressions on these bearded men—hurting.
“Does this mean you’ll come to the wedding?” Lilly asked.
Hayley smiled, not having to force it at all. “I would love to.” She glanced back at the kitchenette. “Where’s Sam?”
“He said he had to go. Me or one of the boys can take you back to your car whenever you’re ready.”
Hayley forced herself to nod and smile. It was for the best. She needed to process this without her Sam-feelings getting in the way.
Or at least that’s what she’d tell herself.
Chapter Sixteen
Sam paced. First he paced the small interior of his cabin, but it wasn’t enough room to work out all the restless energy inside of him. So he went outside.
The sun was setting in the trees and usually that made him feel better about life. A cool summer’s night, a pretty sunset, the knowledge that this, up here alone, was his life and his domain.
But, of course, today it only reminded him of Hayley. He’d never even watched the sunset with her, but something about the vibrant orange, which matched the stretchy shirt she wore, and the way the sun’s evening rays glinted off the trees and rocks, gilding everything gold, reminded him of her eyes.
When he thought about her eyes, he thought about that expression in them this afternoon. How she’d walked into the Evans brothers’ lair of sorts and faced them with a vulnerable kind of confidence that ate at him.
He’d been in awe of her. For some crazy, blinding second he’d wondered what it would be like to go home. To show up at his parents’ door and say, Hi, I want to be a part of this again.
But that thought had only lasted a second. He didn’t want to be part of the world that was a constant reminder of what he’d done.
And his parents had made it quite clear that they didn’t want him there.
That was the problem with Hayley. She made him think about all this stuff. The complexities in his life that he had so carefully ignored. Possibly worst of all, she made him consider the meaning of forgiveness.
He turned to face the path that led to where she usually parked her car. Ever since Lilly had convinced him to leave Mile High this afternoon, he had been listening for the sound of someone driving her up the mountain, and the subsequent putter of her car’s engine driving away.
He could’ve missed it when he’d been drying out the tents or using the power tools to reattach a loose solar panel. He could have missed it when he’d taken a shower to try to clear his head.
He’d promised himself he wouldn’t check. Lilly had been right. He had had no business being there, listening to their conversation. Hayley certainly didn’t need to rehash her conversation with Brandon and Will with him. He was trying to create distance, not make them best friends or some bullshit.
His curiosity was killing him slowly. It was an inclination he’d mostly gotten over. He’d tamped down any and all curiosity, focusing only on avoiding his own pain.
Why did Hayley bring all of those old feelings back into his life? When feeling could only end with . . .
Something cold and uncomfortable settled in his chest. Hayley could be around for the next twenty years, reminding him of all the ways he used to be, the way life could be good and bright and warm, and he still wouldn’t be able to take that step back into it.
Because he’d been a selfish bastard, and that he could deal with. As long as no one else had to deal with it, as long as no one else had to pay the consequences.
Hayley would want to. He saw it so clearly now.
He had to keep his distance. He had to keep this cool façade, and Lilly had been right. He didn’t have any place in Hayley’s personal life. He didn’t belong in her dealings with Brandon and Will.
In fact, if she was willing to talk to them, it meant that his time with Hayley was over.
That cold, hard knot in his chest got colder and bigger and Sam nearly gave in to the need to sit down.
They were done. She was talking to Will and Brandon now, so that meant he didn’t have to train her anymore. Brandon or Will could do it. Sure, he could step in if he was needed, but . . .
Over a month ago he’d agreed to this because he hadn’t had a choice. Finally, he was getting rid of her. She was a nuisance, a distraction, an annoying little gnat.
The thought she wouldn’t be here bright and early tomorrow morning to hike with him was something of a blow. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
But it was great. Perfect. He could go back to a normal, peaceful life.
Empty. Cold. Lonely.
How dare she sweep into his life and make it feel that way?
He stomped his way down the path telling himself he hoped her car was gone. When he reached the little parking spot and found it empty, he could only stand and stare.
She had gotten her car and not come to him. Not to tell him what happened, not to be an annoying pain in his ass.
She had gotten whatever it was that she needed out of him. Now they were both free. It was for the best.
Sam trudged back to his cabin, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest.
When he reached his cabin again, he grabbed his keys and got in his Jeep.
He had to know what happened, whether she’d had a positive, fulfilling conversation with Brandon and Will, and then he could let it go. He could go back to his life.
He didn’t even need to ask her. He just needed to casually ask Brandon or Will how things went, and then he could move the hell on.
He drove to Mile High, repeating that thought to himself over and over again. Denial had once been one of his strongest attributes, so why was it failing him now?
He got out of the Jeep and headed inside. Luckily, Will’s Jeep was in the parking lot, so at least he would be here. Of the two Evans brothers, Will would be less suspicious of Sam’s asking questions about Hayley.
Of course, when Sam stepped inside, he heard two male voices. Two Evans male voices. He thought about backing out before they heard him, but he should have known better when entering through the front. He was too late.
“Sam, come on in. Perfect timing.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Have a drink with us,” Brandon offered cheerfully.
“Celebrating something?”
“We are.” Brandon and Will each had little tumblers of what Sam could only assume was Scotch. It reminded him of college. How they had all thought they were so big and important, infallible and maybe untouchable.
Will nodded toward the kitchenette. “There’s beer in the fridge. Or something nonalcoholic, if you prefer.”
Sam ignored the offer and took the tumbler Brandon offered him. Maybe it reminded him of an ugly past, but he wasn’t about to let them see it. That was the thing. You didn’t have to dwell in your pain if you never let anyone else see it.
Sam downed the drink in two quick gulps.
Brandon and Will exchanged one of their twin looks, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to care. He held up the tumbler and Brandon poured another.
“So, what’s the celebration?”
“Hayley.”
When they didn’t explain any further, Sam had to bite his tongue from demanding answers. What about Hayley? What was going on?
It was none of his damn business, and he could not for the life of him get over the curiosity that raged through his brain. If he could knock it out of himself, he would have.
In fact, he could always get drunk. Down a good dose of Scotch, forget any and all of this. Except he’d done that not too long ago with Will, and repeating that this soon seemed unhealthy. Dangerous.
Dangerous to what? What kind of life are you leading that becoming an alcoholic would be remotely problematic?
Sam could only blink at the tumbler in his hands. He knew his life was a certain way, but putting it that way was . . . really depressing. Far more depressing than it had a right to be.
“Why do you look
like you’ve just been punched in the stomach?”
“I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach a few times lately.”
At Will and Brandon’s interested looks, Sam shook his head. “It’s . . .” He wanted to say nothing, but it wasn’t nothing. “You guys called it. I’m going through some shit. You and Lilly getting married and having a kid. It’s all just kind of coming to a head in a way I didn’t expect.” Sam couldn’t believe he was opening up to Brandon and Will, but he sure as hell couldn’t open up to them about how Hayley had brought these emotions out of him. It was choosing one kind of honesty over another, and this one seemed a lot less dangerous.
“Well, you’re free of Hayley now, so if you need some time—”
He should say Great! and leave it at that. Just walk away with an easy acceptance of that offer. He couldn’t do it.
“I don’t need time for shit. I don’t mind training her,” he grumbled into his drink.
“You don’t?” both guys said in unison.
Sam shrugged, trying his damnedest to be casual. “She’s got a good head on her shoulders.” One he’d kissed, and had barely been able to stop thinking about for the past twenty-four hours. “And she’s a quick learner. I don’t exactly mind her presence.”
Didn’t mind. Wanted it all too desperately. What was the damn difference?
“Well, we can split it up then. However best works for the schedule.”
Sam opened his mouth to argue, but at Will’s questioning look, he just closed it. No arguing. No anything. He couldn’t let Brandon or Will know the effect that Hayley had on him, and he certainly couldn’t let them know he’d kissed her.
Certainly not after hearing Brandon’s estimation of him earlier today. It had stung, sure, but not because Brandon was wrong. Only because Hayley had heard it.
He was one sick puppy.
As if reading his thoughts, Brandon extended a hand. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said earlier today. I was frustrated and worried and—”
“And it was all true?”