Wine and Scenery (Citizen Soldier Book 7)

by Donna Michaels

  After sipping some water, she set the glass on her coffee table because her hands were shaking too much. And she was cold. God, she was so cold. Fighting tears, she told him briefly about her relationship with Ryder, and then about how their company was underbidding and hurting his business.

  Tony blew out a breath and shoved a hand in his thick, dark hair. Although she loved her middle brother dearly, right now, she wanted to smack him, too.

  “Why were you even bidding in Pennsylvania, Tony?” she asked with a shake of her head. “Surely there’s still enough work in New York?”

  He dropped his hand and twisted to face her. “It wasn’t me. Gino’s the one who’s been doing the bids.”

  “Gino?”

  Tony nodded. “I confronted him after you’d called about that ice cream parlor bid. Turns out he’s been dividing his crew in half and working two areas. I put a stop to it. He was overworking his men. I made sure they got paid.” He set a hand on her back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know until you’d called. I assumed he was just working the New York jobs I gave him.”

  Anger fisted tight in her chest as she focused on the company. It was safer than letting her thoughts drift to her mess with Ryder. “Did he at least pay the workers?”

  “Yeah. I made sure of it.” Tony scowled. “I also went through the material receipts on the jobs he did, and had to go in and replace a few things to make sure the job was up to Colarusso standards. I appreciate the initiative but not the execution.”

  “What was he thinking?”

  “That you were going to marry him, I guess. Although, that’d be over my dead body.” He smirked.

  She was too raw to respond to that. “Does Dad know about this?”

  “Yes.” Tony nodded, easily going along with her subject change. “And Gino’s on probation. Doesn’t matter how good of friends Dad is with his dad, he won’t stand for jeopardizing the Colarusso name.”

  Her control was starting to slip, so she just nodded, and fought through the burning behind her eyes.

  A strangled sound rumbled in her brother’s throat as he pulled her into his chest. “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing.” She sniffed and burrowed closer. “Ryder was right. I should’ve told him.” The damage was done. It was up to her to try and fix things. To explain. And, oh yeah, she was definitely going to track him down and explain. But it would have to wait until she could go back to the Poconos.

  She just hoped it wasn’t too late.

  Hoped it was enough.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ryder cracked open a can of beer as he sat at the edge of his dock and stared out at the lake. Still vast. Tranquil. Loaded with fish. Sun still glittered off it without mercy. Nothing about the vista had changed over the past four days.

  Unlike him. He hadn’t been the same since New York.

  Hell, he didn’t even really remember driving home the other night. He’d been numb, operating on autopilot. It wasn’t until he’d passed a frowning Ben by the armory that his dazed brain had realized he was back in Pennsylvania.

  His buddy had signaled for him to stop, but he shook his head and kept driving. No reason to stop. Talking wasn’t going to help. And he hadn’t been in the mood for any type of company, so he’d gone straight home, parked in the driveway, and stared at his house. A house full of memories of the woman whose betrayal cut so deep it hurt to fucking breathe.

  Even now, his chest was too tight to get a full breath into his lungs. But the beer was going down pretty smooth. He sucked down the cold brew and eyed the boathouse.

  He hadn’t been inside there yet, either. Or his workshop, because he had memories of her in those places too. Didn’t leave him with many choices to sleep that first night. So he’d grabbed a sleeping bag from his shed, and slept in the back of the truck.

  For three nights now.

  Work was good, though. Busy. A godsend. He’d thrown himself into it, glad his volunteer work was done at the theater. Until the next show. Sophia had one more to design, but screw it. He was going to sit that one out.

  Maybe he’d sit on the dock and have a beer then, too.

  “You ever going to answer your phone?” Ben asked from behind, his boots clomping on the stairs…along with another set.

  Ryder’s heart stopped a few beats, as longing—the traitor—trickled through his chest in the hopes it was Sophia. Although, he didn’t even know if she was back in town yet.

  He turned around to find the oldest Wyne brother approaching too, and told himself it was relief that ricocheted through his gut.

  “You didn’t toss it in the lake, did you?” Ethan asked.

  Ryder smirked. “Thought about it.” Even went so far as to grip the damn thing in his hand. It was loaded with texts and missed calls and voicemails from family and friends, but the majority were from Sophia. He didn’t want to talk to her. Didn’t want to see her. “I shut it off and shoved it in my glove box.”

  Didn’t matter, though. He’d had little peace since then. Not from his mind, anyway.

  “You didn’t show up for our lunch today,” Ben said, easing down beside him, before opening the cooler to peek inside. “A liquid diet, huh?”

  Ethan sat down on his other side and smirked. “That’s nutritious.”

  “I remember those days.” Ben tossed a beer to Ethan, before securing one for himself.

  Ryder knew what they were doing, and it wasn’t going to work. “Don’t get too comfortable. I don’t want company, and I’m not in the mood to talk.”

  “That’s okay,” Ethan said. “We’ll do the talking.”

  “Yeah.” Ben cupped his shoulder and nodded. “We’ve been friends a long time, and I get where you’re coming from, I really do, but I can’t let you be. Not now that your sister is involved. She’s worried about you, and losing sleep over it.” He squeezed his shoulder. “You have to understand, I won’t let her suffer. So, it’s time for an intervention.”

  Ryder muttered an oath. Lea wasn’t getting a ton of sleep with the baby as it was, he didn’t want her losing even more over him. “Tell her I’m fine and not to worry.”

  “Yeah, you’re doing great, all right,” Ben scoffed, releasing him. “You have a sleeping bag in the back of your truck, and you’re drinking beer for lunch. She’ll be thrilled to hear that. I’m sure she’ll sleep better than our daughter, now.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. “Look, I’m fine. This is the first beer I’ve had since…all week.” He couldn’t bring himself to reference that night in the city.

  The hiss of air escaping the can pierced the air as Ethan cracked open his beer. “We’ve been where you are, Ryder. And believe it or not, it only got better when someone pointed out we were acting like asses.”

  “Okay, so we still act like it sometimes,” Ben added. “But, my brother’s right. When it came to the women we love, we were blind to our misconceptions. So, chances are, that’s what you’re dealing with, too. Surely, the three of us can figure it out.”

  “And if not, Phoebe and Lea are on standby.” Ethan nodded, patting the phone visible in his shirt pocket.

  “After all, they’re the ones who told us what went down in New York.”

  “How’d they know?” He certainly hadn’t told anyone.

  “Sophia,” Ethan replied. “She’s been calling daily, hoping we’d see you and ask you to call her.” The guy looked deadpan at him. “Ryder, can you please call Sophia?”

  “Not gonna happen.” Not in this lifetime. He’d had enough betrayal from women. He was done.

  Ethan pursed his lips and nodded. “You could always go see her. She’s back in town. Arrived last night.”

  The news hit him like a blow to the solar plexus. He straightened his spine and drew in a breath. Did she even try to find him? He brushed the stupid thought aside. Didn’t matter. He wouldn’t have spoken to her anyway.

  “Okay, then, it’s time to hash things out,” Ben said, before swigging dow
n some beer.

  “Nothing to hash out,” he muttered. “She’s a Colarusso. Knew about my issues with them and said nothing. Probably had a good laugh, too. Oh, and she’s engaged to some guy named Gino, who I suspect was the one putting in the bids. He looked familiar. She was probably telling him about the jobs I was trying to get. She’s devious and conniving, and I’m done.”

  Ben glanced around him at his brother. “Was I that stupid?”

  Ethan nodded. “You were worse.”

  “I think we’re done.” Gritting his teeth, he made to get up, but each man gripped one of his shoulders and held him in place.

  “No. Not hardly, so stay put,” Ben said, voice firm and serious, all signs of teasing gone. “First off, she’s not engaged and hasn’t been. That was some yahoo who won’t let her alone.”

  “What?” Without permission, Ryder’s insides knotted and a strong urge to beat the shit of the guy surged through him.

  “And she didn’t lie about her last name. It’s Nardovino. But her family does own Colarusso Construction. It was her grandfather on her mother’s side who started the business.”

  “Whatever,” he muttered. “She never told me.” She kept secrets. End of story.

  Ben quirked a brow. “Did you ask?”

  He jerked his head back. “What?”

  “Did you ask her if she was a Colarusso?”

  “Of course not.” Ryder finished his beer then squeezed the empty can in his hand. Fucking idiot.

  His buddy cocked his head. “Then explain exactly how it is she lied.”

  “By omission.”

  Ben smirked. “That’s thin, man.”

  “Real thin.” Ethan nodded.

  “See through,” Ben continued, doing a great job of pissing him off, too.

  Ryder opened the cooler and tossed the crushed can inside, before grabbing a new one. “This has been fun. Not,” he said. “Are you two going to come to a point soon? I need to finish drinking alone.”

  Ben inhaled, then spoke. “From what I gathered from your remarks, you think Sophia used you to get the locations of the jobs you wanted to bid on so she could pass it on to some stalker that works for her family, so her family could bid lower and get the jobs. Am I right?”

  “No. Yeah…Christ.” He blew out a breath. “I don’t know.” His brain hurt. When he heard it out loud, it sounded stupid. “She lied to me.”

  Ethan shook his head. “No, Ryder, she just didn’t tell you everything, and it’s my guess that she was worried how you’d react.”

  “Yeah, it sucks that she’s related to the family undercutting your bids, but it’s not like she did the actual bidding. And, damn, man. It’s no secret how you feel about Colarusso Construction,” Ben said. “You actually put her in a tough situation. If she told you, you’d be mad. If she didn’t tell you, you’d be mad. There was no way out for her. No answer.”

  Well…hell.

  He exhaled slowly, and stared into the murky abyss below his feet. It was true. Still. “Lying is never the answer. Jinan kept her family a secret too. And look what happened.” He ended up betrayed and alone.

  “Ryder, listen to me.” Ben set a hand his shoulder again. “Sophia is not Jinan. She did not choose her family over you and marry another man. You need to think back. Did you ever talk to her about Colarusso…I mean by name? Because you and I discussed them, but she wasn’t there.”

  He rubbed his temple, trying to dispel the dull ache. “Yeah, I mentioned them to her when…” He paused, trying to recall when he’d actually said the name to her, and…damn. It was recent. The first time that came to mind was at the theater. The day before she left. “We were finished working on a set. Cathy told me I lost the ice cream parlor bid.”

  “Lost?” Ethan frowned. “Didn’t you get that bid?”

  He nodded. “I originally didn’t, though. They called back the next day to offer it to…son-of-a-bitch.” His whole body stiffened as his heart dropped to his gut.

  Ben grinned. “Looks like we have an aha moment.”

  “Care to share?” Ethan grinned too.

  Ryder tossed the unopened beer back in the cooler and pushed to his feet. “I need to talk to Sophia,” he said, heart pounding a little easier in a chest that was no longer tight with unrelenting fingers of betrayal. “Where did you say she was?”

  Christ, he had some apologizing to do.

  “At the theater. Where else?” Ben stood up and grinned. “I’m sure if you hurry, you can still catch her.”

  Ethan got to his feet. “If not, she rented a room at the resort.”

  His steps faltered, and he turned to face them. “Why? Is something wrong with Keiffer’s condo?”

  No one told him about any issues.

  “Yeah.” Ben nodded. “I think she’s having the same problem you’re having with your house.”

  His heart took a hit, hard enough to make him blink. Memories of them together kept her from sleeping there?

  A smile tugged his lips and he drew in another easy breath.

  Maybe he hadn’t screwed up so bad that things weren’t fixable.

  Yeah, he was an ass. He’d hurt her. And his insides were fisted tight with self-disgust. But he wasn’t going to let it stop him from fighting for the woman he loved. Not this time. Not with Sophia. She was worth the effort. She was worth fight for.

  She was worth…everything. And he was going to do everything in his power to make it up to her.

  If she’d have him back.

  Chapter Nineteen

  No matter how hard Sophia tried to concentrate on next month’s production for Phoebe, she continued to stare at the white page in her sketch book. There was nothing to sketch because her mind was blank. Numb. Broken.

  Like her heart.

  Her spirit.

  Wrinkling her nose, she grumbled, and refused to believe that. Refused to give up hope that Ryder would give her a chance to explain. They meant too much to each other not to―at least, he’d meant too much to her. She just hoped she’d somehow managed to get past his barriers and touch a piece of his heart.

  What she wouldn’t give to have a set to physically build right now. To throw herself into it. A way to work, but not think. Just do. Because thinking led to pain, and pain led to thoughts of Ryder.

  She sucked in a ragged breath and blinked back a rogue round of tears. They weren’t welcome. Not at work. In the shower, yes. In bed, yes. Not at work. She didn’t do tears. She wasn’t weak. She just missed him―so much.

  Dammit.

  Her eyes weren’t blinking fast enough, so she wiped the escaping wetness from her face. Time to get up and get moving. A change of scenery. She grabbed her sketch pad and pencil, and headed to the main theater. Maybe if she sat in there and stared hard enough at the stage, inspiration would spark.

  She’d never had this trouble before. Her mind usually swirled full of ideas. But yesterday and today, she just stared at her sketch pad.

  It ticked her off.

  No way did she want to let Phoebe down.

  There were always the standard set designs, her mind reminded. But every director liked to put a slightly new spin on things, and Phoebe was no exception.

  Because she was good. Smart.

  Creative.

  If Sophia’s mind remained blank, she was going to have to ask Phoebe what she envisioned and go from there. Their thoughts were usually on the same page anyway.

  Right now, though, hers were on Ryder, and how he’d stared at her through such a cold gaze on the sidewalk outside her apartment last week. A shiver raced down her spine at the memory.

  Dammit.

  She entered the main theater near the back by the stage and flicked on the lights, before walking up the center aisle. One by one, she counted the rows until she reached the fourth one. It was a good number. Especially that month. The fourth had been very inspiring.

  With a sad chuckle, she sank into the first chair and stared out at the stage, but her broken mind was playing
tricks on her, because she saw Ryder walk out. And everyone knew Ryder wasn’t talking to her. Plus, he had no reason to be at the theater. Not to mentor. Not for work. Especially not for her.

  “Sophia?”

  She jumped. Her daydreams had never been this real. That even sounded like him.

  Maybe this was her imagination’s way of repairing itself so she could work.

  But when his gaze met hers and a familiar zing went through her, she sat up and blinked, squeezing the arms of the chair. Was that actually him?

  He jumped off the stage and strode straight to her, and when she caught the scent of soap and cedar, with a hint of some kind of spice, her heart leapt in her tight chest.

  “Ryder?”

  Squatting down next to her chair in the aisle, he placed his hand over hers, all the while staring into her eyes. His were clear and unguarded, full of fear and hope. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice surprisingly gentle. “I was an ass. I shouldn’t have walked away from you.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, relieved to put it all behind them and work on moving forward.

  But he set a finger to her lips, and shook his head. “No, it’s not okay. I hurt you and I won’t forgive myself for it. You’ve been nothing but sweet and kind and giving, and at the first sign of miscommunication I jumped to conclusions because of my past.”

  She knew he needed to get things off his chest. And she also knew, as he stroked her arm up and down, he was giving her his reassurance and strength, but he needed the connection, too, as if it was she who grounded him.

  For several years he was closed up, kept things close to the vest. She knew this, but through his actions alone, she could tell he was trying to give her what he thought she needed. Dammit. He was making her insides melt. And her heart was swelling, and tears were filling her eyes, which she rapidly blinked away.

  All she needed was his acceptance, and he was giving that to her, but she got the sense he needed to open up and get something off his chest. She continued to squeeze the arms of the chair—to keep from reaching for him—and remained silent to let him finish.