I sat up and crossed my arms over my chest, pushing out my bottom lip. “Okay. So I like that kind of music. What’s wrong with that?”
“So much that I don’t even know where to begin. Oh, wait, here’s some redemption. The Beatles. Okay, you might not be too far gone. I might be able to save you.”
I snorted. “Save me, huh?” I rescued my phone. “Maybe I don’t want saving. Maybe I like me the way I am.”
Ryland crawled over to me and kissed my lips. “I like you the way you are, too. I just want to help you improve your taste in music.”
I blew out a sigh. “I can’t help it. It’s a sentimental favorite. When I was growing up, that was the kind of music that played in our hotels. And my mom loves the Carpenters, so when I hear them, it reminds me of a very happy part of my life.”
He nodded, laying his head down on my stomach. “I understand that. But it doesn’t mean you can’t learn to appreciate other music. Dare I say it, even better music.” When I started to protest, he put one finger to my lips. “Let’s start here. What’s your favorite Beatles song?”
I dropped my head back to the pillow. “In My Life. I love the lyrics. It just . . . it’s important to me. It talks about places changing, and . . . love remaining the same. Of loving someone more. I always thought that was what made a true love. You know? My dad loves me, but he loves booze more. Zachary said he loved me, but he loved his career more. I wanted someone who loved me . . . more.”
Ryland turned his head and looked up at me. His eyes were serious, thoughtful. He skimmed the back of his fingers over my cheek. “I know what you mean. It’s my favorite, too, actually.” He took the phone back from me, scrolled again and when it began to play the familiar opening chords of the song, he lay it on my chest, between his face and mine.
We stayed that way, unmoving, as the sun shot its opening beams across the bed, beginning a new day.
“I can’t believe how quickly everything came together for the spa.” I glanced around the wide foyer. “Hard to believe this used to house horses, huh?”
Ryland shook his head. “Let’s not raise a sensitive topic.”
I grinned. “Oh, come on. You have to admit that this place is beautiful. And a lot more useful than stables would’ve been in the twenty-first century.”
He gave me a little nod. “Okay, I guess I can concede that much. And just think, you can play all your easy listening favorites in here to your heart’s content, and no one’s going to complain.”
I shot him a nasty gesture, but he only laughed at me.
If I had known how much fun it could be to work with the same man who was in my bed every night, I might not have waited so long to make it happen. For the first week after Ryland and I began sleeping together, I’d waited for the other shoe to fall. I’d waited for the bad to follow the good. But when everything between us only continued to get better—both in bed and on the job site—I let myself relax and believe I might actually be able to make this work.
“Did you send the promotional stuff out for the grand opening?” Ryland stooped down to examine the underside of a window sill.
“Yes, everything’s falling into place. There’s a lot of excitement. We’re going to have a television crew from the evening news covering it, and one of the radio stations is going to broadcast from here that afternoon. I got some face painters to come in, a few musicians . . . it’s going to be like a carnival atmosphere.”
A breeze blew over my skin, carrying as it often did the scent of lilacs. I’d had the sense that she was pleased, whatever or whoever it was still residing in these walls. I felt a banked excitement lately, as though she were just waiting to see the final result, as we all were.
“It’s going to be amazing, because you’re amazing.” Ryland stood again, laced his fingers with me and drew me to him. “You should be proud of yourself, Abby. The Riverside is going to shine again, and it’s all because of you.”
I smiled against his lips, opening my mouth and tangling my tongue with his. “I might’ve had a little help here and there.”
“Yeah. You might’ve.” He gave me one more fast kiss and then swatted my bottom. “Okay, woman. I have to get back to work. The paint should be finished in the main building today, and I want to make sure it’s perfect before you see the final result.”
Ryland had insisted that I stay out of the hotel proper while the final work was taking place. He wanted me to see it as a finished product, in its totality, and he was so excited about the idea that I’d agreed. I stuck to monitoring progress in the outbuildings, teasing him to give me just a small peek.
“All right. Get to work. I’m going to talk to the landscapers for a few minutes about the shrubs around this building, and then I’m heading back to the office for the rest of the day.” I smiled at Ryland. “Are we meeting at the Tide for dinner tonight?”
He grinned at me in return. “I thought we were having leftover Chinese. In bed. As a matter of fact, I think that was my fortune the other night. ‘You will eat the rest of the copious amounts of food your woman ordered . . . in bed.’”
I laughed. “Okay, okay. It’s a date. I’ll be back at the apartment after five.”
“I’ll be there around the same time.”
I stood for a minute, watching through the window as Ryland strode across the lawn to the front of the hotel. A sense of something that might’ve been contentment stole over me, and I hugged my arms around my middle, simply soaking it in. For the first time that I could remember, my life felt . . . balanced. Right. Filled with easy affection, work I loved and a man who set my nights on fire. I hadn’t admitted I was in love with Ryland, not yet, not even to myself. But if I were going to be honest, I knew it was true. He’d stolen my heart and crept into my soul.
I trusted him, more than I ever thought I could any man. But even so, a niggle of worry was buried in my heart. As much as I was anticipating the opening of the Riverside, part of me dreaded what came after. Ryland and I didn’t talk about the future beyond that day. He hadn’t mentioned moving or taking a new job, but neither had he made any plans that I knew of to stay here in the Cove. Taking everything a day at a time wasn’t easy, but it was how I had to live right now.
And with days that began and ended in bed with Ryland Kent, I really couldn’t complain.
“Abigail?”
The familiar voice intruded into my happy place, bringing the walls crashing down. I turned my head slowly, willing my ears to be wrong.
But they weren’t. Zachary Todd stood in the doorway of the spa. He hadn’t changed much in three years; maybe he was a bit heavier, his face a tad fuller. But the slightly mocking expression in his eyes, the pout of his lips and the affected way he had of moving . . . it was all there in force as he looked at me, speculation and smugness in his eyes.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I kept my voice low and steady. The key to Zachary, I’d learned from painful experience, was not letting him see any emotion or weakness. I stiffened my back and schooled my face to show nothing. “This is private property. It’s also an active worksite. You’re not permitted to be here.”
“Oh, come on, Abigail. Don’t be silly. I went to your office, and the secretary there told me that you were on the project site. I told her we were old friends, and I’d wanted to talk with you about the restaurant job here. She thought it would be fine for me stop by.”
“She was wrong. And so were you, incidentally. We’re not old friends, and the position here is filled. You weren’t even in the running.”
“Now that’s a shame, since I’m clearly the most qualified candidate. I’ve been trying to call, to remind you of that fact. But my calls are never returned. Even so, I know I’m the right man for this position.”
“How would you know that? You don’t know who applied.”
“I don’t have to know. I know that I have more experience than anyone else, added to the fact that I’ve been running successful hotel-affiliated restaurants for ten years.”
/> I barked a mirthless laugh. “That’s open to interpretation. Tell me, how did you get your current job? I know you didn’t have a reference from my father or anyone else at Donavan Hotels.”
He smiled, and the sight of it sent a chill down my spine. “I have ways. I know people, and I have connections. And I’m very good at what I do.”
“Maybe.” He wasn’t lying, but I didn’t have to concede to anything. “But the fact of the matter remains. You’re not getting the job here. I am curious, though. Why did you apply for this job? And were you really ballsy enough to think I’d give it to you, after everything that happened in Boston?”
Zachary leaned against the doorway, his casual ease effortless. “I know you, Abigail. You’re like me. We understand that business is business, and there’s no doubt that hiring me would be good business. It would send this backwater hotel into the stratosphere, put your name on the map.” He paused. “As for why I’d want it, I would think that’d be clear. You may be hiding out down here in Florida, but you’re a Donavan. One day, you’ll return to the fold. You’ll run Donavan Hotels. One day you’ll be Donavan Hotels. When that happens, I want to be the one by your side, helping you to make it happen. It makes sense. Business sense.”
My mouth sagged open. “Seriously? You think I’m that much of a pathetic idiot that I’d open myself up to you again? After what you did to me?”
He shook his head. “What happened between us in Boston was necessary so that you understood how important it is to separate business from emotion. You were young and naïve, Abigail. Now you know. We don’t have to like each other to make this work. We’re both cut from the same cloth: we don’t need the attachment of a messy romantic affair. We’re above all that.”
“You’d be wrong about that, on all counts.” The shock of seeing Zachary had worn away, and the mad I’d once told Emmy I’d never experienced? It was here now, in full force. And Zachary Todd was about to feel it.
“You’d be wrong about that all around. First of all, I have no plans to go back to Donavan Hotels. This is my home, and I plan to make the Riverside both a raving success and my permanent home. My last name may be Donavan, but that’s not my life. Second, I’m nothing like you. Nothing. I don’t treat people like resources. I don’t look at life as though it’s all business. I’m a passionate woman, Zachary. I burn hot. You never knew that, of course, because you’re not man enough to ignite me.”
He flinched, and I knew I’d hit a nerve.
“It would be a cold, cold day in hell before I’d hire you for anything, let alone trust you with the restaurant here. Be happy with the little niche you’ve managed to carve out in Tennessee, because it’s as far as you get. If you try anything else, if you mess with Donavan Hotels or with the Riverside, you will go down. We have proof of what you did in Boston, and the only reason my father didn’t pursue it at the time was out of deference to me. But I don’t need protecting. I’m my own woman, and I can take care of myself. Now get the hell off my property, and stay off, or I swear, I’ll make you sorry you ever heard the name Abigail Donavan.”
Zachary stood for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. I was about to say more when suddenly he jerked out of the doorway, like a puppet who’d been pulled off the stage.
“Pretty sure the lady told you to get the hell out, dickhead.” Ryland held Zachary by the collar. The other man’s feet dangled off the ground for a minute before Ryland dropped him. “I’d like nothing more than to beat the shit out of you for what you did to her, but Abby there just did a better job ripping you open than I ever could with my fists. But I’ll have no issue with kicking your ass to the edge of the property if you don’t move it now.”
Zachary fixed his shirt and glared at first Ryland and then me. “If you touch me again, you’ll be sorry. I’ll have lawyers here on your ass faster than you can—”
Ryland took one step forward, and Zachary shrunk back. He hesitated another minute, and then with a muffled curse, he turned around and took off down the path, away from the hotel.
I collapsed against the wall, surprised to realize I was shaking. Ryland came toward me, taking the steps two at a time. Pulling me into his arms, he rubbed my back.
“He didn’t . . . try anything, did he, Abby? He didn’t hurt you?”
I shook my head. “No. He just spouted off with a lot of stupid stuff.” I raised my face to look up into Ryland’s eyes. “He said I was like him, cold and all business. But I’m not, right? Not anymore.”
“No, baby. You’re anything but cold.” His voice was soothing, but I knew he was being truthful, too.
I reached up to stroke his cheek. “But I might’ve ended up like that if it weren’t for you. God, I was close. Thank you, Ryland. Thanks for making sure I didn’t turn into a frigid bitch.”
He choked with what might’ve been laughter and held me tighter, his lips skimming over my hair.
“Any time, baby. And all the time.”
“HEY, YOU’RE SURE THE LADY boss likes Italian, right?” Linc rounded the corner out of the kitchen. “You checked and made sure she’s not allergic to garlic or oregano or anything, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, Linc. I’m sure. She loves Italian, she doesn’t have any food allergies, and whatever you make is going to be fine. Why’re you so nervous about this dinner, anyway? You’d think she’s your girlfriend, not mine.”
Linc eyed me. “Girlfriend, huh? So it’s official?”
I scowled. “Whatever, dude. It’s just a word. But yeah, we’ve been together non-stop for a while now, I sleep just about every night at her place, and . . . yeah. Girlfriend works. For now.”
He raised his hands. “Don’t attack me, I was just asking. For what it’s worth, I approve.” He turned around. “Can you set the table? I need to check the pasta.”
I’d just finished folding the napkins and tucking them next to the plates when there was a knock at the door. I heard Abby’s voice from downstairs. “Ryland? Linc? Can I come in?”
I smiled. I went in and out of her apartment at will now, treating it like my second home, but that was my Abby—always careful, always courteous. Always aware of not overstepping boundaries.
“Come on up, gorgeous.” I met her at the top of the steps, pulled her into my arms and kissed her. “Welcome to the bachelor pad.”
She laughed and handed me a small bag. “I bought Italian bread as requested.” She raised her voice. “Something smells delicious!”
Linc called back. “You better believe it, sweetheart! Hope you brought your appetite.”
I led her to our small sitting area. “Glass of wine, baby? I got both red and white.”
“Red, please. I can get it if you like. Will Linc be insulted if I offer to help in the kitchen?”
“Yes!” The man himself responded from beyond the doorway, and Abby and I both laughed.
“Message received.” She sat down. “This is actually a sweet little apartment. Emmy acted like it was a frat house before Cooper moved out.”
I nodded. “She wasn’t wrong. I saw it then. I think he pretty much just slept here, and it looked it. At least he didn’t mind me bringing in some furniture and making it work for Linc and me.”
I poured the wine at the table and carried two glasses to the sofa. Handing one to Abby, I clinked my glass to hers. “Cheers.”
“Salut.” She sipped. “Mmmm. Nice.”
“Things busy today?” I sat on the arm of the chair facing her. Abby had been spending most days in the office now as everything geared up for the hotel’s opening. I missed seeing her on the job site, hearing the click of her heels. But we were close to opening, and both of us had last-minute tasks.
“Crazy. We’re getting a flood of calls, and since we opened up reservations, we haven’t been able to keep up with them. We have a waiting list, and that’s after referring people to the Hawthorne House. Cal’s been coming in to help me with the final plans. I don’t know what I’d do witho
ut him.”
“If there’s anything I can do, just tell me.” I reached for her hand and lifted the knuckles to my lips. “Don’t work too hard. I want you to enjoy this opening, not be flat on your back exhausted.”
She smiled. “I’ll do my best. I was actually thinking—”
“Dinner is served.” Linc came around the corner, carrying a large bowl of pasta. A good deal of the red sauce was splashed onto his shirt, but I decided it behooved me to keep that observation to myself.
I knew my friend was a good cook, but it was a pleasure to watch Abby discover that fact. She raved over the sauce and meatballs, had two helpings of salad—he made his own dressing—and praised the entire meal.
“Linc, if you ever get tired of this guy, I’ll hire you to cook at the Riverside.” She folded her napkin in her lap. “Seriously, I think that’s the best Italian food I’ve had since I left Philadelphia.”
He tried to play it off, but I could tell Linc was pleased. “Yeah, who knows? Maybe someday we’ll both get tired of living out of a suitcase and settle down.” He nudged me. “But not yet, right, brother? Not when the jobs keep rolling in.” He smiled at Abby. “Did he tell you about this sweet gig in St. Louis next month?”
Shit. Of course I hadn’t mentioned St. Louis to Abby, because I hadn’t made up my mind about it yet. Sure, I’d told Linc to accept it conditionally. I’d promised to fly up there and check it out after the Riverside opened. But that didn’t mean I was committed to working it.
But as his words sank into her mind, I watched the expression on Abby’s face morph from relaxed happiness to something that was akin to panic. I hadn’t seen her look that way since the first night I’d tried to kiss her.
“No. No, Ryland didn’t mention a job in St. Louis.” She didn’t look my way; instead, she focused on Linc. “Why don’t you tell me about it, Lincoln?”
For all the years my best friend had been married, and for all his knowledge of the female sex, he was oblivious. I wanted to kick him under the table, but I couldn’t reach him around Abby’s legs. “Well, it’s sweet because it’s all inside work. Usually, we get to this time of year and we don’t have any real jobs, since construction slows down in the cold months. But this place already has the exterior finished, so we’d just have to do the interior. A lot of wood work, moldings, fixtures, and that kind of stuff. And it pays a pretty penny, too.”
The Path Page 17