by Cathryn Fox
“Ryeland,” his father bellowed.
He tossed the bills on the table, despite her protest. “Meet me at the Cave when you get off,” he said quickly, then turned to hurry to his family before she could either accept or decline the invitation.
Mel glared at the money. It reminded her of her father’s gambling. Perhaps because she felt as insignificant and worthless now as she did all those years ago when her father had used her as collateral in the illegal, high-roller poker game that took place at the resort once a year. Her heart pounded faster, her breath a little harder to catch as those cutting memories bombarded her.
With a bevy of unwanted emotions welling up inside her, she left the money where Ryeland had tossed it and grabbed the discarded menus. Even though she’d long ago hardened herself and tried not to care what others thought of her, there was nothing she could do to swallow down the sick feeling welling up into her throat.
“What the hell was that all about?” Jaelyn asked as Mel dropped the menus back at the hostess counter.
“Mrs. Montgomery said she was sick,” Mel said, shoving her hands into her apron so Jaelyn couldn’t see them shaking. “But I get the feeling it has more to do with me.”
Jaelyn gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Mel, I’m sure you’re wrong.” She blinked up at her friend, and Jaelyn’s eyes softened. “Maybe this will cheer you up. Jared just dropped a package off to you.”
Mel’s head jerked back with a start, surprised. “What? What’s going on?” Why would the resort’s concierge be bringing her a package?
“Beats me.”
Mel opened the brown paper bag and peered inside. “Oh. My. God.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You’ve got to me kidding me.” Her heart gave a little leap when she pulled the sticky note off the box of tampons and read the one word written on it: Truce. She smiled despite herself, and something inside her stomach took flight.
Truthfully, even if she did call a truce, after the way his parents had acted there was no way the two could ever be friends, which meant she wasn’t going to waste another second thinking about him, or about the sweet—yet oddly disturbing—package he’d sent her.
Chapter Four
An uneasy feeling moved through Ryeland as his mother dropped down onto the sofa, placing a shaky hand over her head. Ryeland’s father folded his arms and stood over her from behind.
“What’s going on?” Ryeland asked.
“Maybe we should be asking you the same question.” The coolness in his father’s tone chilled the room.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Kids,” Arthur said, handing Ashley and Evan some cash. “Head to the canteen and get yourselves something to eat.”
Ryeland’s siblings bounded out the door and once gone, his mother turned to him. “Did you know that girl worked there?” she asked, a combination of worry and repulsion in her tone. “Is that why you made the reservation?”
Ryeland shook his head, hardly able to believe what was going on. Jesus Christ, was Melody right? “Tell me that’s not why we had to leave. Please…please tell me I’m wrong.”
His mother pursed her lips. “I told you to stay away from the local girls, Ryeland.”
“All I did was give a girl a ride and make a reservation at the restaurant where she works. Don’t you think your reaction is kind of extreme?”
“No, I don’t. And locals are nothing but trouble.”
“Weren’t you a local girl once?” he asked his mom. “Before you met Dad at the resort?”
His mother stiffened. “Which is why I know what most of them are like, but this isn’t about me.”
“What do you have against her anyway? What did she ever do to you?”
“Her mother is the town drunk and her father is in jail. And then there was that incident…” She let her words trail off.
His jaw dropped. “Come on, you don’t seriously believe she had anything to do with that guy’s death. That’s just crazy.”
His father stiffened. “Crazy or not, you need to stay away from her.”
“I’m not going to let her ruin my family,” Eliza said, her voice hovering on panic.
Yeah, because it was such a great goddamn family. Jesus, he didn’t even think his parents liked each other anymore. They probably were just keeping up appearances because, God forbid, they come across as anything but perfect. Ryeland linked his fingers behind his head and paced.
“How the hell is she going to ruin our family?” he asked.
Arthur’s jaw clenched. “Watch your language, young man.”
“By trapping you,” Eliza blurted out, and he didn’t miss the tightening of his father’s jaw. “I know her type. She’ll use you to get out of this place. She’ll do whatever it takes.”
Ryeland stopped abruptly and stared at his parents. “Are you serious?” he bit out, unable to believe what he was hearing. “How can you say that? You don’t even know her.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t know her,” his father said, something dark and menacing in his tone.
His mother angled her head and exchanged a tense look with his father.
“What?” Ryeland asked. “Tell me what this is really all about. What do you know that I don’t?”
“Stay away from her. She’s trouble.”
“You’re wrong.” He shook his head. “You’re so fucking wrong.”
“Ryeland,” his father warned.
“I’m twenty-three years old.” He ran shaky fingers through his hair, his stomach clenching. Melody was sweet and funny and didn’t deserve to be treated like a lower class citizen by anyone, especially his family. “I make good decisions and I think I’m quite capable of picking my own friends.” He drove his hands back into his pockets and fisted his Jeep keys hard enough to cut skin. “I’ve allowed you to run my life long enough.” Before he could think better of it, he added, “You’re not going to tell me who I can and cannot hang out with too.”
“What’s that’s supposed to mean?” his father asked.
With his anger spiking, and not thinking with his head on straight, he blurted out, “It means that maybe I don’t want to be a lawyer. Maybe I don’t want to work for you.”
Anger flashed in his father’s eyes, but beneath it Ryeland caught something else, some deeper concern.
“You’re just upset,” Arthur said firmly, his even tone belying his fury. “You don’t mean that.”
“What if I do?” He sucked in a quick breath. With everyone’s emotions running high, some small, coherent part of his brain warned that now might not be prime time to lay it all on the line, but since he was on a roll, and things had been kept bottled up for far too long, he couldn’t help but toss out, “What if I do mean that?”
“What’s wrong with being a lawyer? Hasn’t it provided well for us all?”
Well hell! He’d already opened the door and took a tentative step out, he might as well barrel right on through. “Maybe I want to do something more…meaningful.”
“Meaningful? Jesus, Ryeland, get your head out of the clouds and grow a set. If you want to be a part of this family, then you’re going to be a lawyer, and that’s that. No son of mine is going to hang out in the gutter and do charity work for those who can’t be bothered to help themselves. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, and you’d be wise to remember that.”
“Ryeland, trust that we know what’s best for you,” Eliza said, her voice a bit shaky.
“You don’t know anything about me,” he shot back. Desperate to get out of there, to get himself under control before he made things worse, he walked to the front door and pulled it open. “I need to go.”
“Don’t you walk out on me when I’m talking to you, young man.”
He turned back and looked at his dad, wanting to talk it out. But when he saw his father’s resigned expression he knew it was never going to happen. “You’re not talking to me, Dad. You’re lecturing me.” Knowing there was no point in even trying to
rationalize with him, Ryeland closed the door. His footsteps were heavy as he descended the stairs and slid into his Jeep.
He peeled out of the driveway, and darkness was beginning to fall over the town as he sped down the windy road and pulled his car onto the sandy shore at the Cave.
“Ryeland,” Justin called, tipping his beer his way as he waved him over.
A warm breeze blew over Ryeland as he walked toward the crowd gathered around the bonfire. Squeals could be heard as the guys tossed the new girls into the water, everyone having fun during their annual summer initiation to Stone Cliff. While he usually enjoyed the game, tonight he was in a shit ass mood and in need of a drink.
“What’s the matter with you?” Nikko asked as he handed him a cold one.
Ryeland cracked the cap and looked around, hoping to find Melody but knowing he wouldn’t. No way would she show up here after the way his folks and so-called buddies had treated her. Not that he could blame her. Off in the distance, surrounded by her friends, he caught sight of Suzette and noted the way she was glancing his way as Nikko continued to stare at him, waiting for an answer.
“Nothing’s the matter,” he said to Nikko.
“Whatever you say, man.” Nikko turned and began chatting it up with the pretty brunette beside him.
Cameron came up to him and put his hand on Ryeland’s shoulder. “You okay?”
Ryeland rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. Shit, even though he didn’t want to talk about it, he found himself saying, “Got in a fight with the folks.”
“Shit. What about?”
He looked at his friend. Cameron was a good guy, the most level-headed of the group, and the truth was Ryeland needed someone to talk to. “What do you know about Mel Spencer?”
Cameron grinned. “Ah, so you do have a thing for her.”
He shrugged. “I gave her a lift after Justin soaked her.”
Cameron shook his head and swallowed a mouthful of beer. “He’s such an asshole.”
Ryeland scoffed. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
Cameron glanced around. “Is she here?”
“No.”
“I don’t know much about her.” Cameron tossed another stick onto the fire. The wood splintered under the heat and sparks took to the sky as Cameron poked at it. “Just things I’ve heard. Probably the same things you’ve heard.”
Ryeland took a long pull from his bottle, then asked, “You don’t think she was involved in that incident, do you?”
“You talking about when that poker player died?”
“Yeah, I mean that’s crazy right? To think she had something to do with it.”
He rolled one shoulder. “I barely remember it. It was forever ago. But I’m sure that’s just some of the local crazies talking.” He swallowed a mouthful of beer and bobbed his head. “Small town,” he added, like that summed everything up.
“You think she sleeps around like everyone says?”
“Who doesn’t? Jesus, come on. We’re in our early twenties. That’s what we’re supposed to do. It’s like it’s in our DNA or something.”
Ryeland smiled at his friend who was going into pharmacy studies next year. “You learn that in biology?”
“No, I learned that last night with Maggie Bryce.”
Ryeland laughed, and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Okay then.”
Cameron laughed along with him. “Which brings me back to what I said earlier today, you need to get laid.”
“Yeah, I do.” Maybe that would help him let off some steam and work out his anger.
“Looks like you’ve got your pick tonight, although Suzette might have something to say about that. She’s been asking about you.”
Ryeland stole a glance around, giving a heavy sigh at the number of eyes that were on him, all sending out silent invitations. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
“Gee, your enthusiasm is wearing me out,” Cameron teased with a grin. “Come on, it’s not that big of a deal. You look at your choices, pick one out and go for it.”
While he’d normally go for it, tonight he wasn’t in the mood for mindless sex with some random girl, which was bat-shit crazy, because he was twenty-three and always in the mood for sex.
Before he could respond, a fight broke out behind him, and his friends all took off to get a glimpse of the action. Ryeland stood there for a moment longer, then poured out the rest of his beer. Without saying anything to his friends, he walked back to his Wrangler. He drove along the winding roads, unable to get the conversation with his folks out of his head. Cracking the window, he breathed in the night air and slowed when he caught sight of a deer on the side of the road.
He pulled over and watched it for a while. Ignoring him, the animal grazed on the grass along the road, its coat wet from walking through the woods and going about its business like Ryeland didn’t exist. It sort of reminded him of Mel. Standing on the side of the road alone, soaking wet and trying to ignore him. After a long while he spun his vehicle back around and headed toward the resort, passing some suicidal maniac on a motorcycle. That had to be Noah Sullivan, the crazy son of a bitch who gave white water rafting tours for the resort. He continued down the mountain and drove toward the lodge, slowing when he caught the silhouette of a girl walking along the edge of the road. His heart picked up tempo and he tapped his brakes.
She glanced his way and continued to walk, ignoring him. Not that he could blame her. Hell, she’d been insulted by his friends and his folks all in the span of a few short hours. He rolled his window down, needing to make this right with her. “Hey.”
Melody glanced his way, the look in her eyes wary. She’d freed her hair from the elastic and it flowed around her shoulders as she turned, but in the dark he couldn’t make out her face, her expression.
“Hey,” she said in a guarded voice without slowing. She continued forward, and he crept along beside in his Jeep, his elbow propped on the window.
“It’s Melba, right?”
Her feet came to a resounding halt beneath the street lamp, and when she turned to him, he thought he caught a flicker of a smile before she wiped it away.
“Ryeland—”
“Funny how fate keeps bringing us together,” he said, trying to keep the mood light. “Three times in one day.”
“It’s late and I’m tired.”
“Then let me drive you.”
He caught the conflicting emotions in her eyes before she looked down. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Doing what, trying to be your friend?”
She looked him square in the eyes and said matter-of-factly, “I’m a slut. You must know that.”
A lump lodged in his throat. Jesus, he hated to hear her talk about herself like that. “Come on, Mel, don’t say that.”
“You’ve heard the rumors, saw the way your parents reacted when you introduced us. You shouldn’t be here. I’ll ruin your reputation.”
“Are you worried about me, Mel?” he asked quietly. He tipped his head, feeling an unfamiliar tightening in his chest at her concern for him. It wasn’t something he got a lot of, and coming from her, especially considering the way his friends and family had been treating her, really touched him.
Her face tightened. “Why are you doing this?”
Ryeland stopped in the middle of the road, parked, and climbed out.
She looked up at him, her eyes cautious. “You can’t leave your vehicle like that. Someone is going to come along and hit it.”
“Then you’d better hurry up and get in.”
He stepped closer and she sucked in air. Electricity arced between them as she pointed a shaky finger at the six buildings that housed the staff. “My…my place is right there. I can walk.”
“And I can drive. Besides, you sound a little breathless.” He stepped closer, close enough to catch the warm, sweet scent of her skin. He dipped his head, his eyes meeting hers. “Plus, I want to apologize.”
She nodded, and her lashes fluttered as
she looked down. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “It’s not your fault.” As soon as the words left her mouth, her shoulders fell, like all the energy it took to hold them up had suddenly abandoned her, and she actually trembled before him.
Fearing she was about to collapse, he grabbed her. Not giving her a chance to step back, he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and pulled her closer. With her arms trapped by her sides she stiffened, and her mouth fell open. His gaze dropped and he fought the compulsion to press his lips to hers. Jesus she had such a sweet mouth. There was no doubt he wanted a taste of her, and even though his body had turned mutinous—his cock thickening in his pants—he knew now was definitely not the right time, or the right place, to act on his urges. Partly because she was liable to give him a good swift kick between the legs, and partly because he didn’t want her to think he believed the rumors and was only after one thing from her.
He tried to keep his voice normal, a most difficult task as her softness meshed with his hardness, and damn near drove him mad with want. “Are you okay?”
She pushed against him, and he let her go. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
“I’m tired. I’ve been working a lot.”
“That’s what working two jobs will do to you.” He looked over her face. Jesus, she looked like she was about to collapse again. “You’re exhausted. You need to take better care of yourself.”
“I’m fine.” Her gaze flew to his face and she briefly stilled. “Wait, how do you know I work two jobs?”
“I just do. Now come on. You’re not fine and I’m going to take you back to your place.”
She stepped back. “Ryeland, I can’t do this,” she said, a desperate edge to her voice. “Not with you. Not with anyone.”
He brushed her hair from her shoulders and felt her tremble beneath his touch. Heat zinged between them and she sucked in another quick breath. No way did she not want this as much as he did.
“I’m not asking you for anything.”
She blinked up at him and his heart squeezed. From the first second he met her he knew she was a fighter, but looking at her now, he got the sense that she’d been strong for too long. Clearly she wasn’t one to ask for help, to ask for anything, which made him want to help her all the more. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, he only knew he’d been drawn to her for a long time now, and if he didn’t finally do something about it he knew he’d regret for the rest of his life.