Letting Go (Vista Falls #3)

by Cheryl Douglas

  “No!”

  Sage grinned. “Ah ha! So something did happen. I knew it.” She curled her fingers, demanding Gabby give it up. “Tell me everything.” When Gabby downed her champagne instead of responding, Sage pouted. “I’m not leaving until you tell me. So unless you want to be the reason I’m too tired to give my husband a wedding night to remember—”

  “Okay, okay,” Gabby said, rolling her eyes. “You want to know what happened? I’ll tell you. I stripped and told him to take me. He politely declined. End of story.”

  Sage gaped. Half laughing, half scoffing, she shook her head. “Let me get this straight. You propositioned Colt, and he turned you down?”

  “Something like that.” It didn’t matter that he’d been undoubtedly tempted by her offer. It was still a blow to the ego.

  “That doesn’t sound like Colt,” Sage said, her eyes drifting to the man in question. He was now laughing it up with Wes as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “Are you sure that’s how it went down?”

  “He basically told me that he wanted me but not while I was still questioning whether I could trust him.”

  “Interesting,” Sage said, tapping a manicured fingertip against her glossy lips.

  “What’s so interesting about it?” Gabby asked, reaching for the bottle of champagne the waiter had left on the table at the request of the groom. She refilled her glass as she glared at Colt. Why did he have to look so happy while she was miserable?

  “Well, think about it,” Sage said, leaning in. “If he just wanted sex, he wouldn’t have hesitated to take you up on your offer. It sounds like he wants something more.”

  “Well, he can’t have anything more.” Gabby knew she sounded like a petulant child, but she couldn’t help it. Not only had she lost her prospect of a healthy relationship in Dave, she’d also lost out on a chance for a little fun with Colt.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Weren’t you the one telling him not more than twenty minutes ago that he couldn’t have me?” Gabby drained half of her glass. “Now what? You’re on his side?”

  “No, not on his side,” Sage said, shaking her head. “You know I’ll always want what’s best for you and do anything I can to protect you. But…”

  “But what?”

  “What if Colt is the best thing for you?”

  “I can’t allow myself to think that.” She was tempted to cover her ears so she wouldn’t have to hear anymore, but that would have definitely been crossing the line with twenty of their closest friends looking on.

  “It’s too soon to say for sure,” Sage said, “but after talking to him, I think maybe he’s changed, Gab. I know for a fact he feels guilty for the way he treated you.”

  “Good! He should.”

  Sage leaned in and kissed her friend’s cheek. “You know I love you, right?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Gabby said, fighting back tears.

  “Then I have to ask one little thing of you. Don’t do anything crazy ‘til I get back?”

  That was one promise Gabby couldn’t make. A hell of a lot could happen in a week. Especially where her ex was concerned.

  Chapter Three

  Colt showed up at Gabby’s hotel room door the next morning with hot coffee and fresh pastries, hoping it would be the ticket to getting his foot in the door. But not even the aroma of fresh brew could wipe the scowl off her pretty face.

  He chuckled but tried to keep a straight face when she frowned as she opened the door. “I guess I don’t have to ask how you’re feeling this morning.”

  She eyed the take-out cup. “That better be for me.”

  He handed it over, knowing it would be the coffee or his life. “You bet.”

  She turned her back on him, but she didn’t slam the door in his face. He took that as an invitation to step inside. Her blond hair was tousled, her face free of makeup, and that sexy body was all wrapped up in a nondescript white robe that hit her knees. She shouldn’t have looked so hot, but all he could think about was how much he’d like to see her like this every morning.

  “Guess what else I have?” He held up the white bag, hoping that would get her attention.

  “What?” she asked, looking curious as she sniffed the air. “Is that…?”

  He grinned. “Chocolate croissants.” She made a grab for the bag, but he held it just out of her reach. “Not so fast. Before I give it up, you have to do something for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Go for a swim with me?”

  She eyed her open suitcase on the luggage rack in the corner. “What if I told you I didn’t bring a swimsuit?”

  “We never let that stop us before.”

  “Shut up.” After setting her coffee down, she snatched the bag. There was a triumphant gleam in her eye as she poked her nose inside the bag, inhaling deeply. “For trying to blackmail me with my very favorite treat, I should eat both of these.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “How do you know?” she asked, extracting one and taking a big bite.

  He smiled as her eyes drifted closed. She’d always been a sucker for a good sugar high, and he intended to use that to his advantage in his ploy to win her back. Unlike most of the girls he’d dated, Gabby was a simple, small-town girl. She wasn’t impressed by fancy cars or expensive jewelry. Give her a blanket in the back of a pickup truck on a clear night, and she could watch the stars for hours, reminiscing, dreaming aloud, making love…

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked, licking chocolate off her full lips.

  “Honestly?” He’d promised himself there would be no holding back with her this time, so he told her the uncensored truth. “I was thinking about all the times we made love in the back of my pickup, under the stars, watching the sun come up.”

  Her eyes softened when she said, “It’s a miracle we didn’t end up in the same boat as Sage and Wes, isn’t it?”

  “You mean pregnant?” He’d thought of that dozens of times over the years. Even though he still wasn’t ready to be a father, seeing how much having his son in his life had changed Wes had made Colt realize how amazing it would be to have that connection with someone.

  “Yeah.”

  “I heard about your miscarriage. I’m sorry.” If the rumours he’d heard were true, the miscarriage had been the catalyst for her divorce.

  “Thanks.” She sank back on the bed, polishing off the last bite of her pastry before passing the bag back to him. “But I guess it happened for a reason. My marriage wasn’t…”

  “It wasn’t what?” Colt was dying to know what her husband had done wrong so he wouldn’t make the same mistake. He’d already made more than his fair share and would likely make a million more, but he didn’t want to walk in another man’s footsteps.

  “It wasn’t meant to be, I guess.”

  “And you don’t think a baby would have changed that?”

  She shook her head, looking sad as she reached for her coffee. “A baby can’t make a bad marriage good. It can only make a good marriage better.”

  He reached for the chair butting up against the writing desk tucked in the corner. Turning it around, he straddled it before reaching into the bag for his pastry. “So that’s what you’re holding out for, huh? A good, solid marriage?”

  “Nope.” She took a sip of coffee. “I’m holding out for great. I learned the hard way that good can turn to bad in the blink of an eye. I want what Wes and Sage have, the kind of commitment that leaves no room for doubt.”

  Colt envied what his best friend had found too, but he wasn’t sure that kind of love was in the cards for him. He’d never been very good at relationships mainly because he’d been afraid to go all in. He told himself it would be different with Gabby because… she was Gabby. But he couldn’t say for sure that he’d ever be the kind of husband he knew Wes would be.

  Growing up, his friend had had a great example, a father who taught him what it meant to be a good man and a reliable husban
d and father. Colt, on the other hand, had had the Homer Simpson of fathers. Only his wasn’t funny. His was just mean… and abusive.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said, eyeing him over the rim of her cup as she held it to her lips. “And don’t say nothing. I know you better than that.”

  “Honestly? I’m thinking I’d probably suck at the whole marriage-and-family thing.” He knew that was probably the stupidest thing he could have said, knowing what she wanted, but it was also the most truthful.

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Good question.” He sighed, setting his pastry back in the bag when he realized he’d lost his appetite. “I guess I’m here because I hated not being here. One taste of you”—he smirked—“figuratively and literally, and I was hooked all over again.”

  She took a sip of her coffee, eyeing him a good long time before she said, “Addictions can be dangerous. We ought to know, right? We’ve been pretty addicted to each other.”

  He was glad he wasn’t the only one willing to acknowledge that. “Too bad there’s no twelve-step program for people like us, huh?”

  “Would you go if there were?” she asked, sounding amused.

  “Probably not. I like being addicted to you.”

  “The sex is great,” she conceded. “But there has to be more. At least for me.”

  He’d had plenty of relationships where great sex was more than enough, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough for Gabby. She needed more from him. He just didn’t know how much more he had to give.

  “Here’s the thing,” he said, clasping his hands as he looked at the old polished plank floor. “You need a friend? I’m your guy. Mind-blowing sex?” He raised his hand. “I’d be the first to volunteer for the job. I could probably even be a decent boyfriend if that’s what you said you wanted—”

  “But you could never be my husband.” She nodded. “Yeah, I heard you the first time.”

  He knew that wasn’t easy for her to hear. It wasn’t easy for him to say, but he had no choice. He wanted to be able to look himself in the mirror again, and he couldn’t do that unless he laid it all out there for Gabby.

  “So where does that leave us, Colt?”

  He knew she was a half a second from throwing him out the door, and while that may have been the best thing for both of them, he couldn’t let her do that until he’d told her how much she meant to him. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say, but he knew there was a good chance she wouldn’t believe him. “Here’s the thing… if there was any woman who could turn me into a family man, it would be you.”

  “I don’t want to change you,” she said, looking over her shoulder at her rumpled bed as her hair fell over her face. “We both know that would never work. You obviously don’t want the same things I do, and that’s fine. But I’ll ask again… why are you here?”

  “Vista Falls is my home.” The lie echoed in his head. This town had never felt like much of a home except when he had Gabby in his life. “It made me, for better or worse, I guess.”

  “So you’ve come back to face your demons?” She didn’t call his father Lucifer, but she might as well have.

  “I have so much hate inside me.” He was trying to tamp it down just as he’d been doing for years, but if he kept it up, that anger would erupt into a sea of ugliness that would tear through his life and hurt everyone he cared about. “I don’t want to, but I do.”

  “Then face it.” She looked him in the eyes as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Once and for all. Not for me or for us. Do it for yourself.”

  He swallowed, wondering why it was so hard to contemplate facing a frail old man when he’d faced lions on African safaris and angry bears in the deep woods. “Maybe I’m afraid I’ll see in myself what he’s always seen in me.” He shook his head, knowing he probably wasn’t making a lot of sense to her.

  “Why does his opinion matter so much?” she asked, leaning forward as her voice dropped. “Why does his opinion matter more than mine or Wes’s? Why does it matter more than your opinion? Or is that the problem? You see yourself the way he sees you?”

  He’d had no idea when he came to her room that things would get so intense so fast. He’d just been looking for a little fun in the sun with a girl he was crazy about. He never expected her to hold up a mirror and force him to take a long, hard look.

  “I don’t expect you to understand where I’m coming from,” he said, closing his eyes. “I know it doesn’t make any sense—”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. It makes perfect sense. I just don’t happen to agree.” She stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  She riffled through her small suitcase before coming up with a black bikini and faded denim shorts. “You invited me for a swim. But I’d rather go fishing instead. You got a problem with that?”

  “You still want to hang out with me even after I told you I’m not—”

  “Husband material?” She laughed. “I’m looking to land a fish, Atkins. Not a husband.”

  ***

  Gabby was surprised when Colt docked his boat at a private dock. She knew the house well. It belonged to the former mayor, and as far as she knew, it was still for sale.

  “What are we doing here?”

  His eyes traveled over her body slowly, making her wet for an entirely different reason, before his eyes finally found hers again. “You’re dripping wet.”

  You’re telling me. “So? That doesn’t answer my question. Why are—”

  He cut the engine before reaching for her beach towel and wrapping it around her shoulders.

  When they’d realized the fish weren’t biting and they grew tired of the chase, they dropped anchor and swam for a while before soaking up some rays. With the sun going down and the threat of rain, she was starting to get a chill.

  “I thought you might like to grab a hot shower.”

  “Here?” She looked up at the pale green clapboard one-story that seemed to fade into the majestic pine trees surrounding it.

  “I bought this place.” He stepped onto the dock before holding a hand out to her. “Closed on it about a week ago.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t heard.” In a town the size of theirs, word got around fast. Especially when one of their own was returning home after a long time away.

  If he’d bought a house, that must mean he was serious about making Vista Falls his permanent home. Not that she wanted to read too much into his decision. She’d heard his warning loud and clear that morning: Good times, great sex… that’s my offer, girl. Take it or leave it. So far she hadn’t been tempted to take it, but put them alone in a room with a bed and that could change in a heartbeat.

  “What made you decide on this place?” she asked, trying to coax her mind out of the gutter.

  “You know there isn’t a lot of waterfront property to be had around here,” he said, holding her hand as they walked up the steep hill to the house. “Especially with a little land. This place works for me, or at least it will when I’m done with it.”

  “You still like working with your hands?” she asked, tempted to withdraw her hand from his when they reached a flat grassy patch.

  “You have to ask?”

  That sexy little half smile of his had always turned her into a gooey mess−but not this time. This time she was determined to stand her ground. If he was going to be hanging around, their paths would inevitably cross, which meant she had to figure out how to be immune to him.

  He unlocked the door and let her in to the house. She’d been friends with the mayor’s daughter, Juliette, in high school, but Gabby hadn’t visited their house since. Not much had changed. Same pitched roof with honey-tone pine floors and ceilings. Same kitchen that seemed to blend in with the rest of the wood. The highlight was definitely the view. Wall-to-wall windows took up the entire west side of the house facing the lake.

  The furniture was dark brown. So were the curtains, area rugs, lamps, and cabinets. She was surprised the walls weren’t paint
ed brown, though they may as well have been. They were the same honey tone as the wood, making it all blend together.

  She didn’t realize she’d made a face until he chuckled. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head, embarrassed to be caught judging someone else’s décor. “It’s just not my style, I guess.”

  “Oh yeah? What would you do with this space?”

  “I see beach house.” Even though it wasn’t technically a beach house—since his view was of a lake, not an ocean—it was close enough. “Blues, greens, lots of white.”

  “White, huh? I could live with that.”

  She was in love with Pinterest and redecorated her own house every few years with DIY projects and flea market makeover pieces. “I’d paint all the wood white,” she said, curling her toes into the area rug under her bare feet. “I’d replace those wood blinds,” she said, referring to the honey-tone wood blinds, “with white too.”

  “Is that so?” He seemed to consider her ideas before he shrugged. “It would probably brighten the house up a lot. I noticed when I did the walk-through with the realtor that it looked really dark. I knew it shouldn’t because of all the windows, but you’re right. It’s probably all the wood trim.”

  She could imagine a rugged guy like Colt being into the dark and rustic look. “But hey, it’s not like you intend to share the place with a woman, so if you like it like this, you shouldn’t change a thing.”

  “You don’t think a woman would go for this look?”

  She knew the mayor’s wife had, but only Gabby assumed that was because he liked to call all the shots and his wife seemed happy to let him. “I can’t speak for all women. I just know the whole man-cave look doesn’t work for me. Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with my guy having a room where he can hang out with his buddies—”

  “Did your husband?”

  He was standing so close she could practically feel his body heat through the towel wrapped around her. “What?”

  “Did your husband have a man cave?”