Loved You Once (The Baker’s Creek Billionaire Brothers Book 1)

by Claudia Burgoa

  He shrugs. “I don’t keep track while I’m working.”

  “You can stay in the second room. Unless you have a room assigned,” she says.

  “Thank you. We can be roomies,” he says and begins to eat.

  “Have you eaten?” I ask Blaire, as I start putting together her sundae.

  “Here,” I offer. “Do you want me to order you some fries?”

  “Thank you,” she says and smiles. “Hold the fries, though. I’m just eating the soup after this and taking a nap.”

  “When was the last time you slept?”

  “If you don’t count the nap during my flight from Dallas to Portland … last Monday,” she answers, while eating the ice cream.

  I gather all the biohazard material into a bag and email my assistant, requesting the medication for Vance and asking her to research the Carter’s Kids Foundation.

  “Call me if you need anything,” I tell them, heading to the door. “I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

  Eleven

  Hayes

  Maybe our father did this to screw with us one last time, but I now see it as an opportunity for me to fix my future after I screwed up my life so badly. I lost the girl—more like I pushed her away from my life. I lost touch with my family—these five assholes are, after all, my brothers.

  I won’t take all the blame for not keeping in touch with them, but it is partly my fault. I should’ve tried harder. I lost the passion to save lives—now I just fix bones.

  Blaire is here, and my feelings for her haven’t disappeared. This is my chance to get to know the woman she’s become. The opportunity to make her fall in love with me again. To remind her that we’re soulmates. We were forged from the same star. We’ve loved each other since the beginning of everything.

  There’s so much I have to do to convince her to give me a chance. I might not deserve it, but if anyone has a heart big enough for forgiveness, that’s Blaire. I have to start somewhere, and the house is the first step. We have thirty days to make sure it’s livable so we can all move in.

  I go to my room, email my boss at the hospital, handing him my two-week notice. Then, I send a second message to my partners, offering to sell them my share of the practice.

  This is crazy, I say out loud when I shut down my computer.

  I just quit my life in San Francisco, and it took less than five minutes. But it’s what I need to do because now I have time to create a new life where Blaire is the sun and I’m just a planet orbiting around her. After shedding the suit, I take a shower and dress in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I leave the room and head to the staircase.

  “What the fuck?” Henry asks, when I walk by the front desk. “You disappeared after almost firing the manager and sent a ridiculous text to fix your shit. Where have you been?”

  I check my phone to read the text. Earlier, Blaire set it on the coffee table, and when I found it, I just put it back in my pocket without even checking my messages.

  Hey, fucker. I let Nick take the day off without pay. Since you’re the hotel guru, can you take care of the place? I’m busy playing doctor with Vance.

  I almost laugh at Blaire’s ridiculous message. She loves to upset Henry.

  “Well, it’s self-explanatory. We were patching up Vance,” I inform him. “If you didn’t notice, he had a bullet wound.”

  His eyes bulge, and his color drains. “Is he okay? Do you need me to fly him to Portland?”

  “Nah, it’s okay. You can keep your toy on the ground until we leave,” I tell him.

  He rented a helicopter to fly from Portland to Baker’s Creek. I had no idea he had a pilot license—for small jets and another one for helicopters.

  “Still, you could’ve helped me here,” he says upset.

  “Well, you have everything under control,” I say, dismissing his fury.

  “I have a plane to catch,” he says, grinding his teeth. “We’re leaving in a couple of hours, if you want a ride.”

  “Not anymore,” his assistant reminds him, while typing on her laptop. “We’re flying out Friday night, because you need to train the employees and update the computer equipment of this hotel. We have to do an inventory of the place and create a list of things we have to replace immediately. All your meetings have been rescheduled.”

  Not sure what computer equipment and which employees she’s talking about, but I’m glad they’re doing something for this place. It looks like a blast from last century and not in a well-preserved way.

  “I told you we should try to switch them to videoconferences, Sophia.”

  “I don’t appreciate your tone,” she protests. “There’s a cute bookstore that can keep me busy until Friday and a Bed and Breakfast in Happy Springs where I can stay away from you. Don’t tempt me to leave you here to manage everything on your own.”

  “I should fire you.”

  “I should quit, and yet, here we are,” she tells him with such calmness that my brother's face turns red.

  “I like you,” I tell her.

  “Take your paws off my assistant, Hayes,” he warns me. “She’s not allowed to date my brothers.”

  “To think I could choose between a hockey player, a hot musician, and a famous doctor,” she jokes.

  “You forgot the broody and dangerous Delta Force officer,” I say, teasing Henry, not even knowing if there’s such a thing as a delta officer. The only thing that matters is Henry's angry face.

  She sighs in resignation, and the flint in her eyes makes me laugh.

  “I’ll have to keep my hopes up that I’ll find something better on Tinder,” she says.

  “Swipe your phone during off hours,” he warns her. “I don’t have time to deal with your personal life.”

  She rolls her eyes but doesn’t answer back.

  “You’re a saint for putting up with him,” I tell her, ignoring Henry.

  “No, I happen to have good taste in expensive shoes, a huge debt, and I hate change. You know what they say, better the devil you know…”

  I laugh, and my brother doesn’t look amused.

  “If we stay eighteen months in this forsaken place, I’m going to have to absorb this shithole, add it to the Merkel Resorts line and bring it into the twenty-first century.”

  “Do you have to stay?” Sophia asks, a deep frown in her forehead.

  “I hope not,” he answers and changes his attention to me. “What are you going to do for the rest of the day, Hayes? I can use some help.”

  “Where is everyone else?” I ask, ignoring his question.

  “Pierce left for Colorado. He thinks he can find the loophole,” Henry answers.

  “We need to fix the house in case he fails,” I inform him. “The other two?”

  “Beacon knows the town and promised Arden to take him to the petting farm,” he answers, banging the bulky computer. “Sophia, what happened with the IT department?”

  She rolls her eyes and moves his hands away from the old monitor on top of the check-in desk.

  “They can’t send anyone until tomorrow,” she says, with a condescending voice. “I sent them all the information they requested, so they can bring the necessary equipment. You have to be patient. We already agreed that banging objects is a big no. You might break them, not fix them.”

  “So, you got this,” I conclude before I leave.

  “I’m not staying, Hayes,” he calls after me. “We can’t just do what William wants and pretend it is okay.”

  I halt and turn around, staring at him. Does he understand what’s at stake or is he so out of touch with reality that he thinks these people don’t matter?

  “Unless you find an alternative, we’ll be living here for almost two years,” I assure him, more like warn him.

  “Are they worth it?” he asks, glaring at me. “I don’t fucking know these people. Why would I sacrifice my business for them?”

  “Because if we leave, they’ll have nothing left—they’ll lose everything. Because as Beacon said, deep down
buried somewhere inside your dark soul, there has to be a human.”

  “You can’t leave your practice. You’re Hayes fucking Aldridge, one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the country.”

  I don’t correct him and say, the world, because the title means nothing. I don’t tell him I already quit my job at the hospital and offered to sell my part of the practice.

  Our father was William Tower Aldridge, one of the top ten richest people in the fucking world. He died and not one person gave a shit about him—not even us, his children. He built an empire, accumulated billions, and owns multiple properties all around the world. Yet, in the end, he died alone.

  “And you’re Henry Aldridge, the owner of Merkel Hotels and Spas, resorts and spas. Is it really going to matter when you die, alone?”

  Henry’s jaw sets. He turns red.

  “This round goes to the doctor, ladies and gentlemen,” Sophia says like a sports announcer. “Such a shame that I won’t get to witness who stays alive at the end of the eighteen months.”

  “If I have to stay,” Henry grunts. “You’re staying with me.”

  I laugh because, if she stays, he’s going to be the first one buried in our backyard, after she kills him.

  Twelve

  Hayes

  Stepping out of The Lodge, I breathe in the fresh air. It’s been a long time since I took some time off and just enjoyed my day. I look toward the parking lot, wondering if I should use one of the resort golf carts to drive to the house, but then I decide to walk. Baker’s Creek is small enough that driving isn’t necessary. The distribution of the town is pretty simple.

  The Lodge is on the east side of town, the closest to the lift, so the skiers can easily access the slopes. To the west is the entrance of the town. On the north side is the Aldridge property and the residential area is on the south side of town.

  Bakers Creek isn’t big; everything is within a five to ten-minute walk distance. At least, that’s how it used to be back when I was forced to visit my father. It was an annual event my brothers and I had to do because our mothers organized it. They sent us with him to bond as a family. What they didn’t know is that dear old dad was almost never here. We ended up spending time with my grandmother or the maid. Grandma was fine, but she was detached, just like my father.

  Jesus, no wonder we’re all emotionally impaired. I’ve only loved one woman, Blaire, and maybe it’s because she’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Everyone who meets her loves her instantaneously. After her, I haven’t been able to care about anyone.

  My brothers don’t seem to do well in the relationship department either.

  Is it a curse?

  Carter used to say that, and I always thought it was some fucked up conspiracy theory. He was full of them. But now, I’m starting to think he might have been right.

  “Good afternoon, mister,” a kid riding a bicycle greets me, and the one following him does the same.

  I don’t remember the last time someone greeted me while walking in the streets of San Francisco. It feels weird to be called mister. Back in the day when we visited, we weren’t allowed outside the house. Dad had rules, and one of them was to keep away from the town. As of today, I don’t understand why he imposed them.

  When I was in college, I visited a few times with Blaire. It was easy to drive up here to get away for the weekend during summer. It upset my father a lot since we would be walking around town and either camping or staying at The Lodge. Carter joined us some of those times, too.

  Dad even flew in once to kick me out when he found out I was here, but then he realized I was an adult and he couldn’t force me to do anything.

  Is that what he’s doing now?

  He’s showing us that he can force us to do his bidding and that he’s better than us. He was certainly delusional.

  Now that we’re here, it’ll be interesting to see how people will treat us when they learn we’ll be managing the properties and the businesses.

  We own most of the land around here. After listening to the lawyer, I understand we also own the shops. Maybe once we fulfill the stipulations, we can sell those properties to the current occupants.

  A lot of people look my way as I walk by, and I’m not sure if they recognize me as one of Aldridge’s sons or if I’m just being paranoid. I stop when I find a sign that reads, “Baby Blue Eyes Flower Festival is coming up soon. Have you registered your business?”

  What kind of festival is that?

  I pass the medical building. The door is closed, and I chuckle when I read the office hours.

  Tuesday and Thursday from 9-12. In case of an emergency, call the clinic in Happy Springs.

  I wonder if there’s more than Dr. Garrison’s practice in that building or if he occupies the entire first story. Blaire and I could buy him out, and since we own the building, we can add a second floor. We’d create not only a medical practice, but a clinic too.

  Would she be on board? She was pretty upset about the healthcare provided in town—or lack of it.

  First, we have to sit down and clear the air between us. The yelling match we had earlier, where I found out more about her marriage to Carter, wasn’t enough. I couldn’t even tell her that I was sorry for leaving her alone to handle my brother’s last days and for not being there for her after he died. They were close. Carter adored her. She was like a sister to him. He was fucking mad at me after I broke things off with her.

  “How could you let the best thing that had happened to you go?” Carter called me furious when he found out.

  “You can’t possibly understand,” I said.

  “You’re a fucking idiot, and when you realize your mistake, she’ll be long gone.”

  He was right, but she’s here, and this is my chance to fix what I fucked up. Eighteen months seem like plenty of time to work things out with her, but we have to at least become friends before we start living together—and I swoon the shit out of her.

  I have to ask for her forgiveness. Redeem myself, not only for what happened after Carter died, but for breaking up with her when I went to Johns Hopkins. With new determination, I hurry to the house. When I finally arrive, I spot Beacon and Mills by the gate. Beacon is unlocking it. Mills carries his sleepy son in his arms.

  “Why are you here?” I ask them.

  “Pierce said it’s a piece of shit. We have to make a plan just in case,” Beacon answers. “Also, I have to find a place to set up my studio because there’s no fucking—.”

  “Language,” Mills reprimands him. “Arden is young and impressionable.”

  The baby is asleep, does it really matter? But since I’m not a father, I keep my mouth shut.

  “Why are you here?” Beacon asks while he studies me. “More like, where did you disappear to after the meeting?”

  “We treated Vance’s wound,” I explain to him. “Now I’m here to assess the house.”

  “Yeah, I tried not to overreact, but that arm looked nasty. I’m sure it’s just another Wednesday for him, but what was he doing before he came to town?” Beacon asks, giving me a what the fuck is Vance really up to look.

  I shrug because, from what I gathered, everything about Vance is classified. “Do you want to walk through with me?” I question, tilting my head to the main house.

  “Dude, we have to find another solution,” Mills says. “How do I explain to you that my kid can’t be moving around?”

  “He goes with you to every game—including international games,” Beacon argues. “He could use an eighteen-month break from the hectic life of a hockey player, and so could your knee. We can find you a nanny or we can help you take care of him. You can build an indoor rink on the property and train—once you recover.”

  “What happened to your knee?” I ask, regretting not asking about his injury back in New York.

  I accept it. I’m a shitty brother, and there’s no excuse for the way I’ve behaved with my brothers. Something has to change. Things between us used to be different.

&nb
sp; “I blew it,” Mills answers.

  Since he’s wearing shorts, I squat to look at it closer. It’s slightly swollen. He should be wearing a brace and not carrying his son. I don’t find any scars, still, I ask, “Did they do surgery on it?”

  “The doctor said it wouldn’t help much.”

  I straighten up, taking Arden into my arms. He moves just a bit but doesn’t wake up at all.

  “I could take you to my office, examine it,” I offer. “You could have come to me when it happened.”

  He looks at me with resentment but doesn’t say a word.

  What did I do wrong now? I choose not to ask, and we all go inside the house. Beacon takes notes for me as we make our way to the kitchen. The place doesn’t have any furniture. Some of the walls need to be repaired. The kitchen is empty, the cabinets are broken, and the appliances are gone. The bathrooms need to be replaced.

  “This house was so different back when we used to visit,” I mutter, wondering when this happened. “He pretty much abandoned it. His penthouse in New York looks like a palace compared to this place.”

  “I could live in New York for a year,” Beacon says. “Can we at least switch the location? Dude, this town is one of those places you visit because of their crazy festivals and ski season, not because you want to live here.”

  “When was the last time one of us was here?” Mills asks, ignoring Beacon's rant.

  Beacon shrugs. “I was seventeen, the only idiot left from the bunch. He wasn’t here. The maid wasn’t here either. It was just me. It still had some furniture if I recall.”

  “Did you stay?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope. I called a friend, and then I flew to Europe.”

  “To party?” Mills asks. “Poor rich kid.”

  “No, she was studying abroad—she’s a musician, too. Her mom pulled some strings, so I could join the program.”

  “Music nerd,” Mills says.

  “Yeah, well, I’m more famous than you.”

  “You wish,” Mills answers.