Her Billionaire Betrayal (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 3)

by Danni Lee Nicholls

  Cole felt her body surge with joy as she pointed toward the heron. “There. He’s right there!” Her voice was nothing but a whisper, but her delight flooded him.

  “Yes. Isn’t he incredible?”

  She turned and looked at Cole, her blue eyes bright with wonder and cheer, before turning back to the bird.

  For several minutes, they watched in silence as the bird stalked his prey, finally bringing up a fish.

  Indigo gasped and turned back to Cole. “Did you see that?”

  Cole was charmed. Something heavy had dropped away from her; a stone of sadness was now missing, and in its place was a fragile but joyful happiness. In all of his time with Jessica, she’d never once shown an interest in birds or anything the natural world offered. Now, within ten minutes, a sweet companionship was budding between him and this woman, showing him a peek of something that beckoned him closer.

  Once the heron caught the fish, he flew off to eat in peace, leaving Cole alone with Indigo, surrounded by the awakening of spring and the rippling creek.

  “Thanks for showing this to me,” Indigo said.

  Again, the desire to pull her close tugged at him. Instead, he dropped his hand from Indigo’s shoulder, and she moved away. He sensed her immediate and new shyness and made space for it. He would not push her, not even for friendship.

  She looked down at the creek. “I’ve always loved being near the water. Sam used to take me fishing, and while he was looking for trout or salmon, I’d be scouting the trees for birds. I haven’t paid that much attention since he died. It’s been too … hard.” She looked up at Cole. “But this wasn’t hard today.” A delicate hope shone in her eyes.

  A twinge of jealousy needled Cole at the mention of Sam, but he refused to give in to it. There was no place for those feelings in whatever appealing and mysterious thing developing between him and Indigo. Of course, she would want to talk about her husband even now, or maybe especially now that she had shared something meaningful with another man. Whatever it meant, Cole wanted to encourage its gauzy dream to flourish even if he didn’t know how. “I’m glad we ran into each other.”

  She offered him an unguarded smile, taking his breath away with her artless show of genuine pleasure. “Me too.”

  Cole reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Indigo’s cheek.

  She smiled and blushed, looking down. “Well, I guess I should go. Those dresses aren’t going to hem themselves, and I’ve got a tight deadline.” She moved away from him but kept her eyes on his. “Thanks for showing me this place and letting me share in your birding. I guess I’ll see you at the studio.”

  Cole nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  She disappeared into the budding green woods. Cole watched her leave, taking with her every warm sensation of their exchange. After a few minutes, he heard her car start and drive away on the lonely country road.

  He turned back to the creek. A symphony of water and birdcalls tried to capture his attention, but he didn’t hear any of it. Instead, it was Indigo’s captivating smile over what they’d shared and her willingness to open herself up to him by expressing some sacred part of her grief that filled him. It fused with the one thing he desired to offer her—hope.

  Chapter Eight

  When Indigo arrived home from her time in the woods with Cole, she was both surprised and pleased to find Kelsey there. “I thought you’d be at work by now.”

  Kelsey grinned. “I took an early shift today. It’s nice to be home for the evening, although the tips aren’t as good.” She changed the subject. “What is that amazing smell?” Kelsey asked. “And why do you look so … your hair is kind of a mess.”

  “Thanks, Kels. You always know what to say. I ran into Cole alongside the road and stopped to make sure he was okay. He was birdwatching.”

  Kelsey’s eyebrows shot up. “Tell me more.”

  Shyness crept into Indigo. Was she ready to talk about her few minutes with Cole? During the ride home, he’d occupied her every thought, the smell of peppermint an ever-present reminder of their time together, along with the touch of his fingers on hers. Even now, she basked in the warming glow that came with the memory of his touch; thoughts of Sam were distant and opaque, riding on the currents as far from her as the Oregon rivers.

  “There’s not much to tell,” Indigo replied, wondering if that was true. “And I’ve got to get in the shower so I can pull those dresses inside for hemming without smearing them with peppermint.”

  “Don’t think you’re getting out of our conversation.” Kelsey’s voice followed Indigo down the hallway. “And by the way, I brought dinner.”

  Thirty minutes later, with the dresses carefully hung, Kelsey handed Indigo her evening meal.

  “Thanks,” Indigo said.

  “It comes from the Amigos, and it comes at a price. Tell me what happened with Cole.”

  The girls sat down at the table. Indigo opened her Styrofoam box to find a crisp taco salad with a seasoned grilled chicken breast and her favorite ranch avocado dressing on the side. Her mouth watered. “This looks great!”

  Kelsey opened her own box of enchiladas with beans and rice. “Okay. Spill it.”

  “You’re making a big thing out of nothing,” Indigo hedged.

  “Then it shouldn’t be a hard story to tell.”

  Indigo wanted to disclose everything in order to bask in the warm memory of her shared moment with Cole, but some part of her soul hung back. To talk about it frightened her with its reality. She’d rather not consider the way his hand had rested on her shoulder or how he’d brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek or the way his touch made her feel. She wanted to forget his tenderness and the peace and affection that rose inside of her with each small caress, and how open he was when it came to talking about Sam.

  Sam. A frost of guilt settled on the fragile warmth she and Cole shared. Maybe if she didn’t talk about these feelings, they’d float away, like leaves on Little Sugar Creek.

  “C’mon,” Kelsey probed.

  Indigo sighed. A pressing desire to tell her story overrode everything else. “I saw his car parked alongside of the road in the middle of nowhere, and it worried me, so I stopped. He came from the woods and told me he was birdwatching.”

  Kelsey scrunched her face. “Birdwatching? You like birds.”

  “Yeah.” Indigo’s heart picked up a notch, in spite of her best efforts to ignore the growing feelings of delight. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, he showered me in tick repellant. That’s the peppermint you smelled earlier. And we walked a little way to Little Sugar Creek, where he was stalking a blue heron. We watched the bird, and I left.”

  Kelsey sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “So what’s the rest of the story?”

  Indigo shook her head as guilt threaded its way into her earlier joy. “What would Sam think? Rivers and creeks were our special thing, and now I’m sharing that with someone I barely know.”

  “It sounds as if it was more than just watching a blue heron.”

  “He came so close.” Indigo’s whisper was rough, and she yearned to give in to the feeling of joy that came with his presence. “And I liked it,” she confessed. “I liked having him near. He was warm and gentle, and I haven’t been touched like that in eons. The last three months of Sam’s illness, every touch became a necessity.” Indigo’s voice picked up. “It wasn’t Sam’s fault.” She hurried through her words.

  “Of course it wasn’t,” Kelsey replied softly.

  “And I’d do it all again for just one more hour with him, but this … this …” Exasperation broke through.

  “This felt nice.” Kelsey finished Indigo’s thought. “And you’d like more of it, of Cole.”

  Indigo sniffled as unsung enchantment mingled with self-reproach. “Yes, and I shouldn’t be feeling that way. It’s not Sam’s fault he died.” She shook her head. “Besides, Cole is mixed up with one of the mothers. Her name is Pamela Smithers, and she’s given me a warning to stay away from C
ole.”

  Kelsey blinked. “Are they dating?”

  Indigo shrugged. “Who knows? Pamela says they have an ‘understanding,’ while Cole hasn’t talked about her at all.” She shook her head. “I took this job because it would help me lease a place downtown so I could start the Silver Stitch.” She looked at Kelsey. “There was nothing in the deal about meeting a man or his pseudo girlfriend. I wish I would’ve thought about that while at the creek.”

  Kelsey placed her hand on Indigo’s arm. “Why? Would you have asked him about Pamela?”

  Indigo’s eyes grew large. “No. That would be super awkward. It’s none of my business, really.”

  “Then she’s a nonissue at the moment.” Kelsey paused. “Look, Indi, no one is saying you can’t start the Silver Stitch. And your feelings are completely normal. We all crave touch and affection.”

  “You don’t seem to need it.” Indigo frowned. “Why can’t I be more like you? Why can’t I just be happy with Sam’s memory? After all, our love could last a lifetime. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

  “Love’s not like that, Indi. It’s a renewable resource. Besides, it’s not that I don’t need it,” Kelsey replied. “It’s just that I need my solitude more. I didn’t come from a loving and warm family or marriage. You did.”

  Indigo cleared her throat. “I’m fine until Cole shows up. But when I see him, it’s as if my time with Sam becomes small and difficult to reach or recall, and that’s a horrible way to feel.”

  “But normal and natural. You’re trying to make room for the beauty of something new. Don’t deny your heart this expansion.”

  “I won’t let anything else in if it’s at Sam’s expense.” Indigo grew indignant as fear of losing even the memory of Sam loomed over her time spent with Cole.

  “That’s what I’m telling you,” Kelsey replied. “It doesn’t have to be like that. You can hold more love than you know.”

  “What if this thing with Cole isn’t love?”

  Kelsey thought for a moment. “My guess is that you’ll figure that out soon enough, because you know what love feels like.”

  Indigo grew thoughtful, and she gently confessed, “Everything about Cole feels familiar but different. As if love has somehow been upgraded, and that’s not fair to Sam. He never had the chance for an upgrade.”

  Kelsey shrugged, and Indigo took comfort in her friend’s casual response. “An upgrade makes sense. Don’t you think?” Kelsey stabbed her enchiladas with the plastic fork. “After all, you’ve been through some hard things, and you’ve grown up.”

  “But I don’t want to grow up if it means leaving Sam behind,” Indigo whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

  “That’s the beauty of it, Indi.” Kelsey’s eyes were also filled with tears as she squeezed Indigo’s hand. “You get to take Sam with you no matter how much you grow. He can join you in this new friendship with Cole.”

  Indigo’s frustration left her, and she collapsed against her chair, her unshed tears retreating to the back of her skull with a dull ache. A friend. She needed friends. Beyond the work, that was what had drawn her to Cara and Phillip’s studio. Cole was a part of it. She took a deep breath as the wave of her grief pulled back into its ocean to make room for the gentler waters of acceptance that came with the truth of Kelsey’s words. It beckoned her with tender grace and benevolence, like a sunrise over the sea of loss and grief.

  Chapter Nine

  Indigo rubbed the Lycra between her fingers. The soft coolness of the fabric warmed under her touch, but her mind was on the last time she saw Cole over a week ago.

  Where was he? He hadn’t shown up for rehearsals over the last week. Did his work require him to travel? Was this his typical behavior, to hover over a project and then drop out of sight just when things got interesting? Or just as importantly, to take a young woman into the woods and then take off?

  Indigo shook that thought away. Maybe it was for the best and she needed to choose gratitude for his absence. Cole left her jittery for all the wrong reasons. His kind, thoughtful presence didn’t just take her by surprise; it took her breath away. Sam wasn’t like that. He didn’t worry about her driving in cold weather or take interest in the creative process of her work.

  She reprimanded herself. That wasn’t fair. Sam offered other gifts. The two of them had created something from childhood that had lived into adulthood. What did it matter if he didn’t fawn over every hem or fuss at her for driving through tough weather?

  Almost against her will, her thoughts drifted back to Cole. Was he absent because of how she’d left things that day at Little Sugar Creek? Her departure had been abrupt, but she had to go. Sharing something so lovely in the middle of a bursting spring had brought her more joy than she’d felt since the enchanting and early days of her and Sam’s marriage. Her desire to welcome those feelings overwhelmed her with both lighthearted delight and a stab of sorrow and guilt. It didn’t seem right to share such sacred places with someone other than Sam.

  Kelsey’s words whispered in the crevices of grief. Could she still love Sam while making room for the friendship of another? A deeper desire pulled at her. What if she wanted more than friendship? The possibility unnerved her.

  Furrowing her brow, she focused on the Lycra. She hadn’t come to Eureka Springs to find a man. She’d come to discover her own self and open a business.

  The door of the studio squeaked open, interrupting her thoughts. She squelched the hope of seeing Cole again as she parted the curtain that kept her work area separate from the studio. Isabella walked in with her mother. Pamela’s stilettos echoed across the hardwood floor as she moved with confidence and grace to sit in the bleachers. Now that Indigo knew of Pamela’s dance background, she could see how Isabella mirrored her mother’s grace.

  Isabella separated from her mother as soon as they walked in and hurried to greet Cara and Phillip.

  Pamela looked around. She glanced up into the corner of the bleachers where Cole usually sat, and her forehead wrinkled at the vacancy. A quiet satisfaction stole into Indigo. It was obvious that Pamela hadn’t figured out Cole’s absence either. Maybe there was less to their understanding than she let on.

  Other parents hurried into the studio with their kids. After taking coats, scarves, and other outerwear from the children, they joined Pamela on the bleachers.

  Indigo pushed the curtains together and turned back to her work area in order to clean up. After several minutes, she turned to leave, bumping into Cara. “I’m so sorry,” Indigo stammered.

  Cara laughed before pulling her into a quick embrace. “I should’ve knocked.” She lowered her voice and moved into the private area. “Cole is down with bronchitis. He’s asked me not to share this with the parents, but he wanted specifically for you to know,” she said quietly. “He sounded awful on the phone. He’s staying home so he doesn’t pass his germs along to any of us. But he asked if I’d be willing to take a picture of your work. Is that all right?”

  A nip of irritation confused Indigo. She reminded herself that Cole didn’t owe her anything except a paycheck. The irritation faded as she worked to rationalize his request. If he were here, he’d be checking everything she did. Besides, they’d discussed his desire to be involved with the whole process of creating costumes. Maybe it was better this way. The distance between the two of them could help her regain her composure.

  “Sure thing. Let’s do it now.” She ushered Cara deeper into her work space and spread out several of the cut pieces of fabric.

  Cara snapped a couple of photos with her cell phone.

  “Tell him I’ve got half of the costumes cut out, and I’ll finish the rest of them tomorrow. Then, I’ll baste them and start seeing how they fit on the girls.”

  Cara grinned. “He’ll love the report as much as the pictures,” she said. “He enjoys being involved, and he’s particularly interested in your work.”

  Indigo interrupted the warm feeling that tried to settle in the general area of her heart
. “He doesn’t have to worry. Everything will turn out as I’ve promised.”

  Cara put her hand on Indigo’s arm. “He’s not concerned,” she said. “He knows you’ll deliver.” She looked at Indigo, her eyes reaching below the surface of their conversation. “He’s a fine man, Indigo.”

  Indigo gazed at her feet, looking for some way to change the subject, but not alter it completely. Her heart pounded in her ears, and the earlier confusion mixed with a deeper yearning. She resisted the desire to talk about Cole while wishing for that very thing. “Does he take dance lessons?” she asked. “He told me something about that.”

  “Yes. He does. His schedule doesn’t allow him to come in with any sort of consistency, but Phillip and I teach him, sometimes in the middle of this class, like the other day.”

  Heat rose into Indigo’s cheeks as her earlier longing to dance came back. Perhaps she would take lessons one of these days. Maybe someday she’d dance with Cole. The hope of that soared with the longing to feel his arm around her waist while sharing intimate space with him. The memory of their moment at Little Sugar Creek came rushing back in all of its glorious joy and would not turn her loose no matter how she tried to resist it. She cleared her throat and focused on Cara. “I hope he gets better soon.”

  “I’ll tell him that we all hope for his speedy recovery,” Cara smiled.

  Indigo nodded, glad that Cara was offering her wishes without singling her out.

  Pamela’s laughter rang above the children’s warm-up music and the parents’ conversations as Indigo began gathering fabric and putting the costumes away.