by Lori Ryan
“So, you kissed and made up…like really made up.” Max chuckled.
Emmett smiled, this time thankful for Max’s ability to break the seriousness.
“Yes, we…made up. Several times.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Emmett heard the smirk in Max’s voice. He had the urge to reach out and slap him in the back of his head.
Max must have seen the look on Emmett’s face. He sat up. “What happened?”
“She left,” Emmett said flatly.
“Seriously?”
“Yep, in the middle of the night.”
“Without saying a word?” Max asked.
“She left a note on the bathroom mirror. A sticky note, compliments of the hotel.”
“What did it say?”
“Thanks.”
“Damn, that’s cold blooded.” Max fell back into his seat. “I mean, I’ve snuck out after a shag fest a time or two, but they were just one-night stands. You and Elle…”
“Yeah, I know.” Emmett agreed. “The thing is, I never would have guessed Elle would do that to me. I still can’t understand why she did it.” He realized he’d voiced a thought that had been nagging at him for a hell of a long time. Why would Elle take the time to explain her misunderstanding in high school only to leave again the next day without some reason? She’d sought him out. He was in New York City for a book signing and she’d come to see him.
Would his Els really have done that if she only wanted to get laid?
They sat in silence for a long minute before Max turned to him. “Talk to her, Emmett. Elle would never leave like that without good reason. Let her explain. You owe her that much at least. And you need closure.”
Max was right. If nothing else, Emmett needed closure.
“Let’s get inside,” Max said, motioning toward the house. “My knee hurts like a son-of-a-bitch.” Emmett watched as Max rubbed up and down his leg in hard kneading motions.
“Does your knee hurt all the time?”
“Some days more than others,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Why don’t you take something?”
Max stiffened. What had Emmett said? “Let’s just go,” he growled.
Emmett was smart enough to realize Max wouldn’t say more but he made a note to talk to him later, find out what the whole story with Max was.
First though, he’d meet with Elle. Find out what had really happened. And then he would move on. Emmett hadn’t realized until that moment how much of himself he held back from women. Yeah, he’d talk to Elle. Then, he’d be able to let her go for good and get on with his life.
Chapter Seven
Elle,” the front desk receptionist’s voice rang through her small office.
“Yes, Lorelei?”
“You have a visitor.”
“Visitor?” she asked. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She’d been caught up in studying the marketing reports she was supposed to review with her father later that day. Nothing at work had been easy since she’d met with Emmett. Her mind constantly wondered back to their short conversation. You did it first.
Instead of having her head in her job, she had been thinking of how she might talk to Emmett again, and more importantly, what she would say if he agreed to see her.
“Yes, ma’am. A Mr. Emmett Sumner.”
Elle drew in a ragged breath and her body stiffened. It seemed she didn’t need to figure out a way to get to see him, after all. But was she ready for this?
At one time, Emmett Sumner had been her world. Going through her cancer treatments without him had been difficult but a decision she didn’t regret. Until now. Because she had a feeling, he wouldn’t understand her reasoning.
“Have Kensey show him back, please.” Normally Elle would retrieve her own guests, but she felt more confident in her office. She didn’t want to give up the comfort of having her desk to hide behind. Besides, taking him to the bar last time had been a mistake. She didn’t need an audience.
“Yes, ma’am.” The line went dead.
Elle yanked open a desk drawer and pulled out a small makeup bag, digging to retrieve a mirror and lip gloss. She glanced at her reflection, not pleased at the image staring back. It was late in the afternoon and it had been a busy day, so most of her eye makeup had worn off. It would take Emmett and Kensey less than a minute to make their way back to her office.
She fussed with her short hair, running her fingers through the tufts to perk it up a little then wiped away the smudged eye makeup under her eyes. She twisted the cap on the lip gloss and smeared on a coat before dropping everything back in her drawer and slamming it shut. That would have to do.
“Elle?” Kensey called, knocking on the door frame. “Emmett Sumner is here. Is it okay?” She raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows. Kensey was beautiful and she had a heart of gold. She worked hard to protect Elle.
“Yes, thank you, Kensey. I’ve got it.”
Kensey moved out of the way and held out an arm, ushering Emmett into Elle’s office.
Emmett filled the doorway. He’d always been big, but today she saw him with fresh eyes. There was no doubt he was gorgeous. Tall and strong, with muscles that stretched the confines of his shirt just enough to make you think they might break through. Correction. Enough to make you wish they would break through so you could get a closer look.
His hair was darker now, but still had that slightly messy look that made her want to reach out and straighten those locks with her fingers. He looked a lot like his actor brother Grant, and women all over the world swooned over that man’s hair. Elle rolled her eyes, remembering it had been Grant at their graduation party making out with Kristen Keller, not Emmett as she’d thought.
“Something wrong?” Emmett asked, no doubt catching her eye roll.
Elle focused on his hazel green eyes, feeling his scrutiny. “No, just wondering why you’re here.” Oh God, was that defensiveness in her voice? She hadn’t meant it. She stood. “I’m sorry. Please, come in.” She motioned to an empty chair in front of her desk.
Emmett glanced out her large window. He studied the mountain, watching as skiers made their way to the base of the resort.
“Nice view,” he finally said, walking around a side chair to sit down.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” She needed to get over this feeling that she needed to protect herself from him somehow. She was just so damned nervous.
“No.”
She smoothed her skirt and slipped back into her chair. They sat in silence.
For years they could be together for long periods of time without saying a single word. They’d never needed to speak to communicate, never felt the pressure to fill empty air with needless words. Their connection was fragmented now, and Elle felt a pang of regret.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out.
“What?” Emmett furrowed his brow.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered it this time.
“For what?”
She studied the ceiling for several moments before returning her gaze to Emmett. “For a lot of stuff.”
“In New York,” he said, “you just…” His light brown eyes searched her face as if he would find the right words to continue. “You just…left,” he finally pushed out in a huff.
“Emmett,” she paused, drawing in a deep breath, mustering more confidence than she knew she had. “There’s so much I want to tell you, need to tell you, but not here.”
He stared, studying her as if she were a stranger. She returned his gaze, trying to remain open. If anyone had ever been able to read Elle, it was Emmett Sumner. And there was a time she’d been able to read him, too. But he was closed off to her now, unable, or unwilling to let her in.
“Have dinner with me,” she said.
Emmett tilted his head and remained silent, his eyes seemingly lost.
“Tonight,” Elle added. Wait, tonight? Did she even have anything at home to cook?
Emmett sat stock still, his expression giving nothing awa
y. He’d always been one to think long before speaking. Today seemed to be no different.
“I don’t understand, Elle,” he finally spoke.
For a split second, she thought of bowing out.
She didn’t. She clenched her hands in her lap and plowed forward. “It’s pretty simple. Dinner, at my house.” She smiled hoping to ease the tension.
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about, Els.”
She did know. But he’d used her nickname, Els. That had to be a good sign, right?
“Why did you leave?” he asked, his tone flat and unyielding, so unlike the Emmett she’d grown up with.
And there it was, the question she’d known was coming but was too terrified to answer. How could she tell him all the fears she’d held that night when they’d made love? How could she express her desperate need for him that night? She’d needed to feel his skin caress hers, to hear his words of love and adoration but she didn’t know how to tell him that night. There was only one way to open up to him.
“Come to my house tonight,” Elle said, “and I’ll answer all the questions you have, Emmett. I promise. It’s a long story and I don’t want to get into it here.” She held her breath as he studied her like a stranger. “Please,” she whispered.
The silence between them was a palpable thing and Elle was sure her heart was about to leap out of her chest, it was beating so hard.
She took a small notepad and scribbled her cell phone number and home address, and pushed it across her desk.
Emmett read the square piece of paper before his gaze slowly met hers.
“Please, Em.” Elle knew she sounded pathetic but she didn’t care. She was desperate. She wanted Emmett to know everything. She wanted him back in her life, even if it was for a short time. She removed her hand and let the note sit between them on her desk.
He remained silent as he slowly stood, making no move to take the piece of paper.
This was all Elle could do. She couldn’t force Emmett to listen to her. He was stubborn, she knew that better than anyone.
Emmett turned to leave and Elle’s chest ached with disappointment. She closed her eyes for a heartbeat. He wasn’t going to give her a chance. She opened her eyes, and her mouth, hoping to find something to say to change his mind. Before she could speak, his hand swept across her desk, clutching the note.
Elle sighed a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding as he stalked toward the door.
Even from the back, he was gorgeous. Maybe even more so. She remembered every detail of his body from their night in New York. She would love to see it again, feel his hard skin under her fingers but she knew he would never return that desire. No man would. She was scarred, ugly—
“Elle,” Emmett called loudly.
He’d been talking, but she’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t heard him. “I’m sorry, what?”
“What time?”
“Would seven work for you?”
Emmett glanced down at his watch. He was going to back out, she could feel it. “Should I bring anything?”
His response shocked her. All she could do was shake her head, no.
She couldn’t believe he’d agreed. She would finally be able to explain to him what had happened almost five years ago.
Five years, she thought to herself. Such a huge milestone for her. And how fitting she would celebrate it with Emmett.
He glanced down at the note again, studying it before he raised his head. “This address is the resort’s. You live here?” Emmett pointed to her office.
“Well, not here.” She laughed. “My home is one of the condos on the property. We have forty-eight. Half we rent out, the others we sell. I own one of them.”
Emmett raised a skeptical brow.
She stood and walked around her desk, leaning on one of the side chairs. “What?”
“You own it?”
“What does that mean?” Now she was getting peeved. She wanted to explain things to Emmett but she wouldn’t be made to feel sorry for.
He shook his head. “Nothing,” he mumbled as he turned to leave. He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze holding hers. Where was that boy who had been her biggest fan, her staunchest supporter, her greatest advocate? His eyes darkened and his lids narrowed. She realized that boy was gone. She was different now, and obviously so was he. Too much had happened, too much time had passed.
“I’ll see you at seven,” she said, turning to walk back to her desk. As much as she wanted to open up to Emmett now, she knew she couldn’t show him how vulnerable she was. Not yet.
Elle rounded the corner and smoothed her skirt as she slid into her chair. She finally glanced up and saw her doorway empty. Emmett had given her the one thing she’d wanted almost more than her recovery from cancer—a chance to explain.
Chapter Eight
Emmett stepped up to Elle’s condo, checking his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time. Seven o’clock, straight up.
What was he doing here? Yes, he wanted answers but not in such an intimate place like her home, where she was comfortable. It was literally home field advantage.
He shook his head at how stupid he was being. This wasn’t a game. It didn’t matter if she had an advantage. What mattered was that he got answers and they were able to move on and work together for the lodge.
His mom needed this—needed him to be able to get along well enough with the Nobles to work with them. If that meant sucking it up and finding a way to work with Elle, he would do it. He reminded himself his work at the lodge was temporary. He wouldn’t be in Canyon Creek forever.
Emmett drew in a deep breath and reached out to press the doorbell, going over in his head what he wanted to say. He wanted to put this behind him. To move on. But he also had to find a way to do that without letting her slip back under his skin. Letting her walk through his defenses would be a huge mistake, and one he couldn’t afford. Or survive.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. At first, he thought it might be Elle calling to cancel but he realized he’d never given her his phone number. He stepped back from her door and pulled the phone from his pocket.
His agent. Shit.
He knew exactly what Asher Altman wanted. A manuscript. Yesterday. And Emmett didn’t have one.
He’d already pushed back the deadline for his next book twice. He was under contract and if he didn’t produce soon, he’d be up shit creek.
Emmett had used the excuse of his father’s death several times and although it was a valid reason, it wasn’t the real one. Emmett was suffering from a severe case of writer’s block.
Without answering the text, Emmett slipped his phone back into his pocket and rang Elle’s doorbell. He had enough to deal with tonight, he didn’t need to think of his impending deadline.
A yapping sound came from the other side of the door, breaking into his thoughts. What the hell was that? A dog? No, it couldn’t be. It was definitely an animal, but what kind he had no idea. He was sure the sound could pierce a man’s skull like an ice pick.
Slowly the door slid open and Elle stood in the entryway. His chest seized at the sight of her. Knowing on a gut level that this beautiful woman would never be his again was almost more than he could handle.
“Hi,” she whispered. “I’m glad you’re here.” She smiled, the deep dimple in her right cheek appearing. Emmett felt his resolve to keep her at arm’s length loosen. Her blue eyes sparkled and he noted a hint of mischief within them he hadn’t seen since they were kids. What was she up to?
A low growl followed by a yipping bark broke through his thoughts. His gaze followed the sound. Something was tucked under Elle’s arm. It couldn’t qualify as a dog. No way.
“What is that?” Emmett’s lip curled with the question.
“This is Cheeta,” Elle said proudly, stroking the animals head. The creature stuck out its tongue and closed its eyes as though the stroking had sent it straight to heaven, seemingly oblivious to Emmett’s distaste.
“No, what is it?” He repeated.
Elle tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “She’s not a what, she’s a who. She’s my dog.”
Emmett laughed, out loud. “That’s no dog.” He studied the tiny creature. Its ears were bigger than its head and stood just as tall. It was tan except for a small patch of white between two bulging eyes that looked like they might pop out at any second. “He looks like a rat.”
Elle tucked the dog close to her chest, covering the oversized ears with one hand.
“She’s not a rat,” she whispered, scowling as if he’d made fun of her child.
“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those kind of pet owners.”
Elle bent and set the dog back onto the floor before returning to her full height, putting her nearly nose to nose with him. She’d always been tall, something uncommon for a dancer. He knew she’d endured difficult times because of her height, but her stature was part of her beauty.
Elle crossed her arms under her breasts, breasts he shouldn’t notice, as she cocked a brow.
“What, pray tell, would those kind of pet owners mean?” she asked.
Oh, no. Emmett recognized that look on her face. She was a crusader for things she believed in, and stray animals was one of them. He could only imagine where she’d found this rat.
As if hearing his thoughts, the rat growled, baring his small—albeit, very sharp—teeth.
“Cheeta.” Elle glanced down at the dog in warning.
“You seriously named your dog Cheetah?” Emmett chuckled, staring down at the pup. “I think he might make a midnight snack for a cheetah.”
“It’s not cheetah, like a wild animal.” Elle closed the door and ushered him inside. “It’s like Cheetos, the chips, but with an ‘a’.”
Oh, yes, because that made so much more sense.
Then, Emmett remembered Elle’s addiction to Cheetos when they were younger. She’d eat so many her fingertips would be stained orange. “Well, he’s small enough to fit in a Cheetos bag.” He laughed.