A Date with Desire

by Heather McGovern

  Dev’s beautiful eyes went ice-cold. “You can’t support me, you’re leaving. And you know I can’t roll up to Roark and say, ‘Here’s someone who agrees with me because she worked right alongside me this whole time. By the way, she’s a guest, as you know, and we’ve been having sex this whole time.’ ”

  They’d been doing a lot more than just having sex.

  “Dev.” She put her hands on her hips, determined not to let him destroy something so clearly within his grasp. “I’m trying to help.”

  His jaw looked ready to crack, he held it so tight, but she had to say this. If he couldn’t face the fear, the real roadblock here, she’d do it for him.

  “Either you go to the people in town and ask for their understanding, or you and I go to Roark and ask for his help.”

  He laughed, humorless and dry. “Because that would really bolster Roark’s confidence in me, the fact that I’ve been screwing around with a guest.”

  Anna snapped. “We are not just screwing!”

  Dev’s eyes went wide.

  “We’re not just screwing around.” She said the words again, quieter. Calmer. As much to herself as to him.

  This wasn’t news to her, but she needed to hear it, out loud, and if he couldn’t or wouldn’t say it, then she would.

  “No, we aren’t.” Dev dropped his hands, curling his fingers in. “I don’t know that we ever just do anything. But you don’t get to stand there and preach to me about quitting, when you’re quitting too. You’re the one who’s leaving.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out.

  “No matter what happens at Honeywilde, or with the festival, or with me or Crawford or any of it, you won’t be here. You’re leaving, Anna.”

  * * *

  She faltered on her feet. “I—I have to. I told the agency I’d be back next week.”

  A fact he’d known since the day she showed up at Honeywilde, but now it meant so much more.

  “Then why do you care how or if the festival works out?” She wasn’t going to be around to see the festival pulled off, and now it wouldn’t be. What difference did it make?

  “Because it’s you. Of course I care.”

  As though he were so worthy of her time and support, but in the end, she still wouldn’t be around. He’d opened himself up. Something he never did.

  And it didn’t change a damn thing.

  “You care, but you won’t be the one facing the shit storm when it hits. I will.” He poked his finger in his chest hard enough to hurt. “You want me to take on Crawford alone, and I’ll face the fallout again, and you won’t be anywhere near here.”

  “Because I have to go.” Anna’s voice rose two notches. “You think I wouldn’t rather stay? Vacation forever with none of the worries, magically have no concerns or stress? I want to be here for you, but I have a life that I left behind. I have to work, and live, and support myself. I can’t stay on permanent vacation. This isn’t real life.”

  “This is my life.” He raised his voice too. “And in two days, you’ll drive out of here and maybe see me again, maybe not, and then what? That’s the end of us?”

  “No, I . . . I don’t want that to be the end. I haven’t thought that far ahead, but I don’t—”

  “You didn’t think about that, yet you can stand there and tell me exactly what I need to do with my life. Go to Roark; tell him the truth. Go to the people in town; tell them to go after Crawford. Do the festival on my own. Do this, do that. You have all the answers about what I should be doing with the damn festival, but you can’t spare a thought for us? And the whole time you’re still planning to get the hell out.”

  “That’s not—I’m not doing that. I have wracked my brain about us, and I don’t have the answer, but I have to go back. I have responsibilities.”

  “That is not why you’re going back. You’re going back because you’re too scared to do anything else.”

  Anna blanched. Not even her neck held any color.

  “You left Atlanta because you were miserable. You can’t admit it to yourself, but you’re not happy. Like I couldn’t see it that first day? The black cloud that hung over you, the stress in your eyes. You’re going back to the same shit. You can’t take a vacation and then everything’s okay. Your life will be exactly the same. You’ll still work too much and have no life and your father will still be gone, and you’ll still be alone. All while the person who cares and wants you, is right here.”

  Anna stumbled away, her hands going to her face, and he should let her go.

  But he couldn’t. She had a million options for how he could fix his life, but she wouldn’t consider or even discuss the options they might have.

  Dev followed her toward the kitchen. She put the island between them, but that wasn’t going to stop him from saying what needed to be said. “It’s a lot easier to tell me what I should be doing, than think about what you should be doing. You keep telling me to believe in myself. But why should I, when you don’t believe in me either?”

  “That’s not true.” She dropped her hands, eyes red, but the fight still in them. “I believe in you more than you do.”

  “Then why are you leaving?”

  “How can I stay?” She pounded her fist on the island. “What am I going to do here? Work at the inn?”

  “Maybe? I don’t know. But you could be happy.”

  “I . . .” She sniffed, but a tear still escaped, trickling down her cheek. “I know I could, but I can’t just . . . I have to have some plan or idea. I can’t just give up everything . . .”

  The sentence hung there, unfinished. But he knew the rest without her saying any more.

  He filled in the rest. “For me.”

  “No.” Anna came around the side of the island, trying to close the distance.

  Dev moved too, keeping the space between them. “You know, you talk a big game, but when it comes down to actions, you’re just like Roark. And I can’t even blame you. Being with me . . . I’m a risk, Anna. I know that. Compared to what you have in Atlanta, I’m not much. I’m not good enough for you, but at least I can admit it.”

  She flopped her hands at her sides, the fight draining from her eyes. “You are good enough. I don’t know what I’d do if I stayed here. Life isn’t that simple. I can’t just jump.”

  He backed away from the island. Anna wasn’t going to change her mind. She was strong-minded and willful, and she’d made her decision to go.

  All he could do was let her.

  “No, life is complicated and imperfect. Mine always has been, but you’re the one who’s scared. You’re leaving in two days, and we both know you don’t want to. If I’m a coward for not going on with the festival, then you’re a coward for running.” He turned, walked out her door, and refused to look back.

  Chapter 27

  One day. For one whole day he hadn’t left his room. Blaming a summer cold.

  But the next morning, Sophie showed up at his door, hair wild, face panicked, telling him the news.

  Anna had left a day early.

  Dev knocked on the door of Cabin Five, but he wouldn’t get an answer. He knocked again anyway.

  No sleek black Lexus sat parked on the gravel, no books stacked by the rockers outside, no empty coffee cup left on the rail.

  Dev dug in his pocket for the resort’s set of keys, and knocked one last time as he unlocked the door.

  Empty.

  The little bags of snacks and goodies were cleared from the kitchen counter. He checked the bathroom, and all of her lotions and potions were gone. Upstairs, the bed was unmade, but nothing of her remained.

  He was not going to pick up her pillow and sniff it, already toeing the line of creepy by lurking around her vacated cabin. Why was he doing this to himself? A special kind of torture, making notes of how completely Anna had left.

  “Hell.” He bent his head to get down the narrow stairs from the loft.

  A few steps from the bottom, he sat, his ass hitting the wood
with a thud. His shoulders barely fit in the narrow space and his knees were almost up to his ears. Uncomfortable and out of place. Exactly what he deserved.

  That’s what he was. A screwup, ruining everything he touched, and he’d let Anna go, like an idiot.

  He hadn’t just let her go, he’d run her off, plain and simple. The best thing that’d happened to him, and he’d pushed and pushed until he pushed her away.

  He could’ve been patient, let her figure things out. Given her time and space, not pressured her about staying.

  What was wrong with him?

  Devlin curled his hands into fists, squeezing them into his temples.

  He was what was wrong with him; impatient and expecting her to leap without looking, just like him. Why should she? He was messed up, and spectacular at screwing things up for everyone else too. She had no reason to think a relationship with him would be any different.

  His parents’ marriage, college, his life—all of it was a mess. He’d hurt his family, Anna, and through everything, he couldn’t seem to get enough of hurting himself.

  His chest ached with the emptiness around him. The yawning space left by everyone he pushed away in some misguided need to prove himself.

  Now he’d pushed Anna away too.

  He’d never see the light in her eyes. Never see the pride when he pulled off the Blueberry Festival. But he was never going to see that anyway.

  What the two of them had together, it wasn’t supposed to be real. He was a distraction to fill her time, help her cope with her father’s death and the pressure of being overworked.

  But if what they shared wasn’t real, why did it hurt so much?

  Anna had been there to help him get the festival off the ground, the extra shove of support when he had none. And she’d done exactly that.

  Lifting him up when he was bogged down with doubt. She’d believed in him when no one else had, even when he didn’t believe in himself.

  She’d claimed as much the other day, saying she believed in him more than he did. She’d been certain about the festival, and his ability to pull it off.

  She was as sure of him as he was of the two of them.

  They should be together. He might not have all the answers, or a solution to how they’d work out the details, but he knew, in his gut, there was no one else for him.

  No one else but Anna. And he had to get her back.

  Devlin slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. He stomped out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him. A plan would develop on the way. All he knew was he couldn’t lose Anna and he couldn’t lose this festival.

  He was done losing.

  His heavy footfalls carried him right into Roark’s office, but his brother wasn’t there. He checked the lobby, the great room, the restaurant—nothing. Then he saw Roark on the veranda, Madison beside him, their backs to the inn, taking in the best view at Honeywilde.

  The two of them were in love, and everybody knew it. They’d known even before Roark and Madison could face their own feelings, and he and Sophie had done what they could to make them both see.

  Their feelings were obvious in the way they looked at each other—the appreciative and understanding, if sometimes humoring, glances Madison gave Roark. The admiration and awe in Roark’s eyes. They took care of each other, had each other’s backs, and where she was weak, he helped her be strong. Where Roark was flawed, she filled in the gaps.

  They didn’t always agree, but they didn’t fight the way his parents had. They respectfully argued and debated, and even if they got mad enough to stop speaking, the sun never went down on their silence.

  They loved each other. Because that’s what love was.

  Not perfect and infallible, but understanding, patient; love made you a better person than you were without it.

  Anna did that for him. She understood him, didn’t judge him, and accepted him exactly how he was, while helping him be more.

  And let her leave Honeywilde and walk right out of his life. He’d done a lot of stupid shit in his life, but losing Anna topped the list. Youthful ignorance couldn’t be blamed. Rebellion, seeking attention, misguided fury—none of that was to blame.

  Anna leaving was on him, and he had to fix it. He was going to, but that meant asking for help. Roark’s help.

  Dev threw open the French doors and crossed the veranda like a storm cloud.

  They must’ve felt him coming. Roark and Madison turned, frowning. He was intruding on their moment.

  But their moment could wait.

  He stopped in front of them and stiffened his spine, his chin high. “I screwed up, but I’m going to fix it. I need to tell you something and I need you to listen and be my brother, not the resort’s manager. Can you do that?”

  They stole a quick glance at each other.

  “I’ll try,” Roark said, pragmatic as always.

  “I met someone. We’ve been dating for the last three weeks.”

  Another stolen look.

  “Yeah. Surprise. Anyway. She’s amazing and you would be amazed by her, but I let her leave here without telling her how I feel. Actually, she probably knows how I feel, but I ran her off anyway. And now I have to get her back.”

  “What do you mean, you let her leave here?” Roark wrinkled his brow.

  Leave it to him to catch the one thing in all Dev said that might be telling.

  “I let her leave here, as in check out. Because she was a guest.”

  “Jesus, Dev.”

  “I need my brother right now, okay? Not Honeywilde’s manager. There’s a difference.”

  Madison bumped Roark’s arm, making him study the ground and take a deep breath.

  “Okay,” he said. Chin still down, he snuck a quick look at his girlfriend. “I’ll be quiet and listen.”

  That made her smile; her eyes softened as she leaned a little bit closer.

  Dev knew that look. For days he’d been on the receiving end of a look just like it. Different, darker, more demure and—to him—sexier. Dancing brown eyes and a plush pink mouth, but the most beautiful thing was the affection in Anna’s gaze when she looked at him.

  If he loved her, then she loved him too. But he’d been too scared to say it.

  “Her name is Anna.” His voice shook. “She was a guest here and . . . I love her.”

  Roark jerked his chin up.

  Yeah. Surprise again.

  “I spent the last couple of weeks working with her and getting to know her and showing her that a vacation meant actually having fun. Because I’m pretty sure she didn’t know how.”

  “Working with—”

  Madison elbowed Roark again.

  “Yes, working with her. And I know it’s enough to get me fired or sued or whatever the hell our policy says, but she’s not going to sue me or tell on me. I’m telling you because she deserves the credit for what she did. She deserves not to be a secret. She’s too good. The ad for the festival? Anna came up with that. She’s an ad exec in Atlanta, and she’s a hotshot at it too. Big clients. You know the company that makes those trendy boots that everyone is wearing right now? That’s her client. The commercials, the magazine ads, that’s her.”

  Madison tilted her head, not saying a word but smiling from ear to ear.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m completely see-through.”

  She nodded. “You’ve got it bad.”

  “Bad enough that it made me stupid and I pushed. But I’m going to fix this. And I’m going to fix the festival too. I can’t fail. Not again. Anna believed in the idea, and in me. I’m not going to let her or this town down.”

  The two of them looked at each other.

  “Okay,” Roark said. “How?”

  “I have two options. One, I go to the shops and tell them what happened, that we didn’t get the permit to close the streets, but each can host the festival inside their shops. Or, I confront Crawford about what he’s been up to.”

  Roark opened his mouth, but Dev stopped him.

  “You hav
e to trust me on this, Roark. I know he’s bled the festival dry. And even if I go around him at first, so the festival isn’t delayed, I’m still calling him out. Ms. Hendrix, the office administrator, would get me all of the numbers if I asked nicely.”

  “I’m sure she would.” Madison laughed.

  His brother scratched at the back of his neck. “And if you’re wrong?”

  “I’m not wrong. I know, and I’ve got to trust my gut on this one. You’re ration and reason, and I love that about you.”

  Roark flinched, shock covering his face.

  “I know I don’t say it much, but I do. I love you, but this situation calls for taking a chance, not being cautious. You’re my brother, and I am nothing like you. I used to hate it. I wanted to be you. Mature and respected because you always do the right thing. But I’m not you. I know who I am now, and I might be impulsive, and I screw up on my way to figuring out what’s right, but that can be good too. Because I make stuff happen. I made this festival happen. With Anna. We’re almost there, and I’m not about to quit now.”

  Madison smiled and patted Roark’s arm as he stood there, still looking shocked. “Which option would you rather go with, Dev?”

  “I think talking to the shop owners about making it a sidewalk festival. It’s the fastest fix, I’ll have more luck with them and . . . and they trusted me with this. They believed in me. I owe them an update on what’s happening and, if they’ll show me their books, I’d know for certain that Crawford mismanaged funds.” He turned to his brother. “If I get the proof, from the stores and from Ms. Hendrix, will you help me? You’re the best at accounting. Will you look at the numbers and help me?”

  Roark swallowed hard enough to make his Adam’s apple bob. “I told you I would. If you’re certain he’s up to something, then I’m sure he is. I trust your judgment.”

  His heart punched against his chest.

  I trust your judgment.

  Until he heard them, he hadn’t realized how much those words meant.

  Dev had outright denied his need for Roark’s approval. Told Anna he wasn’t doing any of this for his big brother. Even as he’d said the words, he knew he was lying. Anna would’ve known too, because she understood Dev. Sometimes better than he understood himself.