She wasn’t fast enough getting the door shut. Dante’s arm shot out to stop her from slamming it in his face.
She folded her arms in front of her. “What?”
“You look guilty about something.”
“I do not.”
“Darby.”
“Dante,” she countered, unable to mimic that tell-me-or-I’ll-tell-Mom tone he’d been using on her since they were kids.
He cocked his head, trying to read her mind. It was a game they’d been playing since they were ten years old. Right around that time she’d started holding back things from her twin—things that usually involved boys—and Dante had been determined to prove he knew her so well that he didn’t need for her to actually speak out loud.
And maybe a time or two his guesses had been so dead-on that he’d convinced her he really could read her mind. Then again, he’d also convinced Finn he could jump out of their tree house without getting hurt. Finn hadn’t talked to Dante for a week after he ended up with a broken arm.
Ignoring the penetrating stare that had made her cave more times than she would ever admit to, she gave up on locking herself in the bathroom. Instead, she dug through her half-empty suitcase for shorts and a T-shirt.
“If I’m feeling bad about anything, it’s that I’ll be forcing every smile on Bree’s hike this morning.” The group hike hadn’t sounded so bad yesterday. Now she was thinking she’d rather take her chances jumping out of a tree house.
“The hike that starts in fifteen minutes?”
“Really?” She grabbed his wrist and checked his watch. Crap.
“Nice try, though.”
She let out a breath. “Fine. I threw up on his shoes last night, okay?”
He arched a brow. “His feet looked fine to me.”
Of course Mr. Attention to Detail would have noticed that. It was what made Dante so good at his job.
“Would you walk around with vomit on your shoes?” She waved him toward the door. “I felt bad and took care of it.”
“Why?”
“Because we called a temporary truce.”
“A friends-with-benefits truce?”
She snorted. “No.” Though she’d apparently thought so last night. She couldn’t decide what was more humiliating—all but throwing herself at Bryce or that he’d turned her down.
Dante stopped in front of the door. “Then why was he staring at you last night?”
So her brother had noticed. “He was probably wondering when I’d go back on my word and pull something.”
It was his turn to snort. “I don’t like that guy, and neither do you.”
“I know.” Too bad she hadn’t remembered that little detail last night, like right around the time she’d gone for Bryce’s zipper.
So help her, she wasn’t touching another drop of alcohol this weekend. It should have taken more than a few drinks—okay, a lot of drinks—to forget how badly things had ended between them, to even think about having sex with him.
“I’m going to jump in the shower.”
“Wait.” Dante’s expression softened. “I know that being in a place like this probably brings back memories—”
Memories were only part of the problem. It didn’t help that being in a place so similar to where she and Bryce met was messing with her head, but worse than that was the truce.
Forty-eight hours of not fighting should have given her nothing more than a little breathing room. Instead, it made it harder to breathe without remembering the difference between Bryce’s polite smile and the one that she used to believe was meant just for her, or the teasing light in his eyes that transformed him from aloof to devilish.
And that shiver…the one that curled up her spine, all slow and delicious, and like nothing she’d felt with anyone but him.
He broke your heart.
Her hand drifted across her stomach, her mind replaying her and Bryce’s conversation last night and wishing…what exactly?
Dante glanced at where her hand stalled at her abdomen. “Darby?”
She nudged him toward the door. “We really don’t need to do this. Nothing is going to happen between Bryce and me.” She opened the door. “And don’t go off half-cocked and warn him to stay away from me. We don’t need any more family drama this weekend, okay?”
He sighed. “Just promise me that you won’t let some truce make you forget what that bastard put you through.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?”
He stepped out onto the porch. “You tell me.”
Sometimes she really hated how well her twin thought he knew her. She hated it even more when he turned out to be right.
“Out.”
“Darby—”
“Bye, Dante. Clausus.”
The door had barely slammed in his face when he knocked.
She sighed and yanked it open.
“I just don’t want to see you hurt like that again.” He glanced away, and any annoyance at his overprotectiveness instantly fled.
“I know.” She released a slow breath. “I haven’t forgotten.” Not how much it hurt or how much she’d cried. Or that it had been Dante in that hospital room, holding her hand because Bryce hadn’t wanted to be there.
She hadn’t forgotten any of it. If she let herself, she could still remember the way she’d watched the door, hoping that Bryce would walk through at any moment, even though he’d refused to acknowledge her pregnancy altogether.
And last night she’d tried to seduce him.
God, it didn’t even make sense how those details, so clear in her mind this morning, had gotten lost in the shadow of the old Bryce, the one she’d fallen so hard for. Yesterday she would have insisted he didn’t exist anymore, that maybe he never had, but after last night…
Not that it mattered, she thought, despite the tiny voice that whispered she was a horrible liar.
“I’m not crazy enough to go there again, okay?” Just crazy enough to try feeling Bryce up, apparently.
“You weren’t crazy the first time it happened either, but sometimes—”
She opened her mouth, but he held up his hands in defeat.
“Okay. I’m going before you try and shove my head up my ass.”
Offering him a too-sweet smile, she nodded. “Good idea.”
When Dante left, she leaned against the closed door. She understood her brother’s overprotective streak, even when it wasn’t warranted. The alcohol and the reminders of their past had made for a bad combination, one she wouldn’t be repeating. She had no intention of landing in the same place as before—pregnant and alone.
And that was before she’d lost the baby.
Her insides drew tight, but before she could further revisit memories she’d put behind her a long time ago, she grabbed her clothes off the end of the bed.
She had a hike to get ready for and she’d be damned if she spent another moment thinking about what happened between her and Bryce, whether it was ten years ago or just last night.
* * *
For the second time in twenty-four hours, Darby wanted to turn tail and run.
And not just a quick jog to get out of Bryce’s immediate line of sight. Hell no. She wanted to all-out sprint in the opposite direction and not look back until she’d cleared the other side of the island.
Had she fled yesterday, she and Bryce might have avoided all the crazy truce business that had led to her crossing the line last night.
And drunk and caught up in the past or not, it shouldn’t have happened.
She’d be doing them both a favor—not to mention saving herself some embarrassment—if she just returned to her bungalow. The place where she’d tried to take advantage of him.
Heat flooded her cheeks and she had to force herself to put one foot in front of the other. She was here for Finn and Bree and would just have to pretend last night hadn’t happened. Pretend that every time Bryce had touched her, every time that he’d looked like he was aching to kiss her, hadn’t awakened s
omething inside her that she thought had died a long time ago.
She could do that. No problem.
Pasting on a bright grin, she walked toward him. “Morning.” Apparently not sounding so damn cheerful was a bigger problem.
Almost as big as realizing that maybe the alcohol hadn’t emphasized the fierce pull between them as much as she’d thought. In the halls of the courthouse she hadn’t felt so much of a flicker, but here it was like a live wire that hummed and crackled under her skin.
Bryce pushed away from the building, managing to look both laid back and just a bit wild in his plain white T-shirt and dark shorts. His hair was still damp. From the shower? Or had he already hit the beach?
She’d never met anyone who looked equally comfortable with a surfboard tucked under his arm as he did delivering an opening statement in a crowded courtroom during a big case.
“How’s your head?”
“Fine. Yours?” She looked around, but didn’t spot anyone else. Damn.
“Still attached to my shoulders. But it was touch and go for a while there when I ran into your brother.”
“Which one?”
He tipped his head the same way she’d seen him do when he clearly doubted a witness’s testimony. “Dante.”
She strolled past him to look at the large map of the resort’s trail system posted on the wall Bryce had been leaning against. Music played inside the small booth and through the window she glimpsed a stand-up cooler with bottles of water, shelves of snacks, some disposable cameras and other odds and ends people might want for their hike.
“Did you two play nice?”
“We’re not exactly kids fighting over the same dump truck in the sandbox.”
She shrugged. “The toys may change but men rarely do.”
It was as much a reminder for herself as it was something to say. Like Bryce had implied last night, they were long past having any kind of conversation about their past, and she didn’t want to talk about Dante or anything else—especially last night—that would make it seem like they had any unfinished business between them.
Whatever questions she’d thought she needed answers to after all this time, had definitely been the alcohol talking. In the light of day it was obvious that going there would only stir up their past even more, and if nothing else, last night proved it was best to leave it alone.
She grabbed one of the maps from a stack on the counter. A pen with the resort’s logo lay on another stack. Taking that as a good sign despite the fact that Bryce was staring at her so hard he had to be giving himself a migraine, she snagged the pen and shoved it in her back pocket.
Bryce crossed his arms.
Darby looked at her watch. “Shouldn’t some of the others be here by now?” Ten thirty, Bree had said. It was now ten twenty-nine and no one else was around.
He nodded to the back pocket of her shorts. “Don’t tell me you still believe finding a pen is lucky?”
Ignoring how childish he made it sound, she unfolded the map.
He sighed. “Sorry. I’m still getting used to not firing off the first stupid thing that comes to mind when you’re around.” He leaned against the wall once more, and they fell into an awkward silence.
Silence, she decided about thirty seconds in, was worse than being on guard all the time where Bryce was concerned.
“How’s your book?” he asked another minute later. “The one you’re reading.”
A fuzzy memory of him being amused by her choice of reading material came drifting back, but she managed to give him a confused look. She hadn’t forgotten how slick he could be. Bringing up the book could be his way of figuring out how much of last night she remembered.
Since it didn’t look like anyone was about to show up and save her from Bryce’s cross-examination, she approached the counter. It took her a second to get the resort employee’s attention.
“Have any groups come through here in the last while?”
“The only group to come through this morning was a couple getting married today and some family members, I think. That was about twenty minutes ago.”
Damn. Darby let out a breath. “Did they mention which trail they were taking?”
The guy had already turned away but motioned toward the trail on the far right.
“Thanks.” Choosing the trail over waiting around for the others to return—she’d never live down hiding out in her bungalow when she knew Riley would be on the hike—she started up the base of the path.
It wasn’t a surprise when Bryce followed her.
How had she gotten the time for the hike messed up? Maybe she had been drinking, but Bryce hadn’t. What were the odds they’d both made the same mistake?
“Bryce?” She shook her head, changing her mind about voicing the ridiculous thought that crossed her mind.
“What?”
“Never mind.”
He stopped in front of her, using that solid frame of his to slow her down. He’d done the same years ago when she’d tried avoiding him after she’d knocked him off his surfboard.
It had been bad enough to steal his wave when she had no business being on a surfboard with her unreliable reflexes, but admitting that to a complete stranger—an incredibly sexy stranger—had sent her self-conscious twenty-one-year-old self running for the hills.
Good to know that she’d outgrown all the awkward self-consciousness when it came to Bryce Lancaster.
“What were you going to say?”
“Not important.”
Crossing his arms, he mulled that over for a whopping two-point-five seconds. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Certainly nothing that involved noticing he was using the same boyish grin on her as he had back then. “Really, it’s nothing.”
“Kind of like what happened last night?”
“Last night?” Somehow she managed not to squeak. She ducked around him. “I was just wondering why Bree might have told us the wrong time?”
Bryce frowned. “Maybe some wedding plans came up and she ended up changing the time of the hike and forgot to tell us.” He actually sounded half-convinced, considering they both knew the resort was looking after all the wedding plans for a hefty price.
“Then she forgot to tell Dante too.” Her brother had reminded her of the hike, but hadn’t shown up. After their talk this morning she would have expected him to make sure Bryce was keeping his distance. Or maybe avoiding the hike was his way of preserving the peace.
“So you did talk to Dante today.” Bryce all but pounced on that point.
“In passing.”
“And he didn’t mention me?”
She slanted him a curious look, unsure if he sounded relieved or disappointed. “Did you have a note you wanted me to pass him in study hall?”
He snorted, but didn’t say anything more as the trail narrowed, keeping him behind her.
She picked up the pace. The sooner they caught up with everyone else, the sooner she could relax and stop wondering if Bree had intentionally set them up.
Bree had never mentioned knowing anything about their past. And if she did, it couldn’t be the whole story. Darby had a hard time imagining her soon-to-be sister-in-law would play matchmaker if she knew Bryce had turned his back on Darby when she’d needed him the most.
Not for the first time she thought about forgetting the whole damn hike and heading back to the main resort, maybe sit by the pool for a while. Except she didn’t want Bree jumping to conclusions if Bryce left too, making it look like they’d gone off together somewhere.
If this was Bree playing matchmaker then the last thing Darby wanted to do was encourage more of it.
“About last night,” Bryce began. He caught her hand when she continued on like he hadn’t said a thing, and tugged her around to face him.
“Monkey,” she blurted out, pointing over his shoulder to where the furry little creature dangled from a tree limb over the trail.
The monkey had greenish-gold fur and golden w
hiskers under his chin. The tip of his tail was the same unusual shade. He held something to his mouth, nibbling on it when he wasn’t rubbing it on his head.
“Is this the part where you wait for me to look and then run in the opposite direction?”
She turned him around, ignoring the way he stiffened under her palms. Clearly she didn’t need to be intoxicated or hung up on old memories to invade his personal space. She let her arms fall back to her sides, waiting for him to spot the monkey.
“So you weren’t just trying to distract me.” His expression said he knew damn well that was her intention, and he wasn’t going to let it slide.
Together, they ventured closer without scaring the monkey off. They were almost directly beneath it when it moved its hand like he was waving at them.
“He’s cute, isn’t he?”
“In a funny-looking kind of way, sure.” He grinned at her, and she felt herself smiling back.
A smile that widened when something bounced off Bryce’s head.
The monkey screeched, sounding like it was laughing at them. Bryce probed his head and scowled at the culprit. “Did he just throw something at me?”
She laughed. “You probably hurt his feelings.”
“Is it bleeding?” He gently probed the small welt on his forehead.
“Suck it up, Councilor.” She laughed and continued along the trail.
He jogged to catch up with her. “Think we’ll cross paths with any other furry mammals you can use to avoid talking about last night?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Nothing she wanted to talk about anyway.
“I just want to know if I should be prepared for another wild night of s—”
She spun around so fast they collided. “We did not have sex.”
He looked down at the hand she’d planted against his chest. “I was going to say, should I be prepared for another wild night of socializing with you and Riley.” He ducked his head and whispered in her ear. “Although your suggestion sounds much more interesting.”
“It was not a suggestion.”
His eyes darkened with a familiar heat. “It certainly felt that way last night.”
“You’re impossible.” It would be so much easier to be annoyed by the direction their conversation had taken if he was being even a little bit egotistical about the whole thing.
Must Be Magic (Spellbound Book 4) Page 5