by J. L. Berg
Grabbing my suitcase and other miscellaneous items that had been strewn about during my drunken night of debauchery, I headed out the door to my own room, thinking of only one thing—a long, hot shower.
But the moment I unlocked the door, my phone began to ring. I answered it without bothering to look. I’d already turned in my work phone and shut off all my email accounts, so who could it really be? No doubt, based on the time, it was my sister calling to check on things.
“Hello?” I said, a small grin on my face as I set my things down.
“Millie?” a distinctly male voice replied.
“Lorenzo?” I said, recognizing his accent almost immediately. “What do you want?” I didn’t bother covering up my disdain for the man.
When everything had fallen apart yesterday, he’d treated me like everyone else had.
Like a fucking whore.
“I am so sorry, mi amore. This was the soonest I could call you.”
His little nickname for me, which used to make me blush, suddenly felt wrong. It grated against my ears as I shut the door to my room and took a seat on the bed.
“It’s been twenty-four hours since I walked out of your office, Lorenzo. You couldn’t carve out a few minutes since then to check on me?”
“I’ve been dealing with the board. It’s been a mess.”
I shook my head, unable to believe his bullshit this time. I’d fallen for it one too many times. “It’s not like they haven’t had to deal with this sort of thing before. You’re not exactly discreet.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But, usually, it isn’t made public to the entire company. Or the press.”
My eyes widened as the significance of that email took on a whole new meaning.
“The press?”
Oh God, what would my family think if they found out?
“You should be fine. No one cares who I have affairs with—at least, not anymore. I have had my share of distractions over the years. This is no different.”
Distractions.
That was all I was, just another distraction. I should have known.
When would it stop hurting?
“Well, that’s great. I mean, you’ll come off as a man-whore, once again, gaining you and the brand more exposure and thus making you even wealthier and more pigheaded than you already are.”
“Mi amore,” he purred.
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “I am not your anything. We were a mistake. A dalliance. Nothing more. I don’t want anything to do with you, Lorenzo.”
“Yes, but you misinterpret my intentions, Millie,” he said, dropping the nickname as his tone hardened.
“Oh?”
“I did not call to make amends. To continue what we had would be a huge mistake. I only wanted to make sure you were aware of the press and ask, if they do try to contact you—”
I let out a frustrated huff of air. “You want to make sure I say nice things? That’s why you called. To make sure I toe the line.”
“Please Millie, don’t be difficult.”
I swallowed hard as the tears welled up in my eyes. “Oh, don’t worry, Lorenzo. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
“Thank—”
I hung up before he could finish.
I didn’t want his thanks.
I didn’t want his love. Not anymore.
No, I wanted revenge, and I was going to get it if it was the last thing I did.
In the last forty-eight hours, my life had been turned upside down. Plagued with the news from James, I hadn’t been able to think about anything else.
Until I’d met her.
Millie McIntyre was a mystery to me. She came off as rude and a bit standoffish yet seemed to possess a deep, abiding love and kindness toward a family she barely saw. Coming here yesterday, I’d had no idea what was awaiting me.
But, after a few short hours, I’d begun to believe it was her.
I’d never been an overly sappy person, especially when it came to the opposite sex and I’d never put any thought into fate, but waking up next to her this morning had felt right.
More than right. It’d felt destined, like the universe had brought us both here to this very place just so we could meet.
But, when I had seen her jump out of bed, not remembering all that had occurred the night before? Everything we’d shared?
Like a giant knife sinking right into the center of my heart.
Now, I didn’t know what to believe.
Maybe fate had had nothing to do with this, and it really was what Millie believed it to be—another meaningless one-night stand.
I should know, I’d had plenty.
But nothing about Millie felt temporary or fleeting and I knew she felt the same way, if only she’d remember. I let these thoughts bounce around in my head as I greeted my fellow guests, offering freshly cooked eggs and even some bacon I’d managed to whip up.
She’s not going to sleep with you again just because you cooked a plate full of bacon in her absence.
I ignored the voice of doubt ping-ponging around in my head and focused on making sure everyone had what they needed, including me. Helping myself to a plate of food, I made small talk with those around the table. A few were fairly local, driving in from neighboring states, while others had traveled a much greater distance.
Of course, they were all interested in my place of origin.
“New York,” I answered after an older gentlemen asked.
“Ah, I would have guessed someplace a bit further,” he replied, grabbing another pastry from the plate in the center of the table.
“Not for a long time,” I answered.
“And what brought you to New York? Family?”
I shook my head, maybe a little too swiftly. “No,” I answered. “Just work. I’m an artist.”
“Oh, what kind? Maybe I’ve heard of you.”
This was always fun. Whenever I mentioned what I did for a living, suddenly, everyone was an art expert.
“Sculpture. I’m a stone carver, mostly granite and marble, but I’ve done other stuff along the way as well.”
“Wow, that’s impressive. I have to say, I’m not much of an aficionado when it comes to sculptures, but I do find it interesting. How does one fall into that line of work?”
I swallowed hard. “Dumb luck, I guess.”
A memory flashed quickly in my mind.
“Let me teach you, Aiden,” a voice echoed in my ears, one I hadn’t heard in years.
Even after all this time, I could still remember the exact tone and cadence, as if it’d only been hours since I heard it.
Rather than years.
We continued to make small talk through the remainder of our meal, but I purposely turned the attention off myself and back on him, asking him about his hometown and career. As with most people, he didn’t mind talking about himself and did so for quite some time until his wife stole him away to get ready for their sailing lesson.
By the time the kitchen emptied, I felt exhausted.
Emotionally spent.
Rising from the table, I put myself to work, cleaning up. I knew it wasn’t necessary—I was, after all, a paying guest—but my hands felt too idle.
“Thank you,” a small voice said behind me.
I turned to see Millie enter the kitchen. She was dressed in a casual dress and sandals, and it made for a stark contrast to the woman I’d met the night before. She’d been all business—tailored skirt and mile-high heels. This version of Millie seemed much more laid-back.
Even though the woman wearing it seemed to be anything but.
“Where’d you learn to cook?” she asked.
I gave a noncommittal shrug. “Everyone can cook eggs.”
“But not everyone can crack them like that,” she countered.
“Cooking show,” I answered. “Was trying to impress a girl with my baking skills.”
There was a long pause as she stared down at the floor, and I felt like a fool for speaking.
&nbs
p; “I didn’t mean to be gone for so long,” she finally said. “But I can take over now. I’m sure you have things you need to do.”
“Things?”
“Yes,” she replied, walking toward the table to fetch a few empty plates. “Don’t you need to get to work?”
I shook my head in confusion until she clarified, “On the memorial?”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded, finally understanding.
I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about the memorial. The flight here, the email, the test results…it all felt a million miles away after last night with her.
“Yes,” I answered. “Of course. I was actually hoping to meet up with Dean Sutherland today.”
“Dean?” she asked as she stepped up next to me at the sink.
“Yes. He was the one who contacted me about it. I assume he’ll be the best place to start. Do you know him?”
“Of course I know him. This town is about as big as my pinkie finger. Everyone knows Dean.”
A twinge of jealousy crept up my spine. “How well do you know him?”
Her eyes met mine. “Are you asking if I’ve dated him?”
“Have you?”
She let out a frustrated breath, abandoning the dishes to turn toward me. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I have not dated Dean. He was engaged to my sister though, but that thankfully ended. And, before you scrutinize that sentence, no, I’m not jealous.”
I smiled at her obvious flustered state. “I wasn’t going to scrutinize. I was merely trying to see if you were involved with anyone right now.”
Her eyes avoided mine, causing me to wonder what she was trying to hide, as she answered, “No, I’m not seeing anyone right now.” She swallowed hard. “But I’m not looking either. Especially not here.”
“Especially not here? What is that supposed to mean?”
She placed her hands flat against the counter as her gaze fell to the floor. “I didn’t bust out of this town at the tender age of eighteen just to find myself stuck back here ten years later.”
I raised my hands in protest. “No one said anything about you being stuck here. You forget, I’m a temporary guest here as well. After this project is done, I’m out of here.”
“Then, why are you so interested in my love life?”
Because I can’t go through life having you only once.
Because last night was one of the greatest in my life, and I have to make you remember.
Because I think I might be falling for you.
I met her gaze, her breath hitching as I chose my next words carefully. “Well, I was thinking, since we’re both stuck here, we might as well be stuck here together.”
Coward. I’m a fucking coward.
Her arms folded across her chest. “I thought we already did that.”
“Yes, but did we?” I forced a smile, stepping closer. So close, it made her uncomfortable. I watched her breath rise and fall, and that was when I smiled for real. “If neither of us remembers it, does it really count? I mean, how do I know if we were any good together? Or what if it was so good, it deserves an encore? Or three? Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to at least give it another try? Sober.”
She gulped as her gaze drifted down the length of my body. I had to practically hold myself back as I watched the indecision play out on her delicate features.
“No,” she finally said.
“No?”
“I can’t do this. I can’t be another distraction.”
“Another?” I asked, not understanding her meaning. “Who have you been distracting?”
“Nothing. No one. It doesn’t matter.”
I thought we’d told each other everything last night.
But, from the hurt I saw moving across her face, I knew that couldn’t be true.
I’d bared my soul. She’d obviously given nothing but a sliver.
Maybe fate was nothing but a joke.
“I think it would be best if we just started over, you as the guest and me as your hostess. Nothing more.”
I cleared my throat, an obvious attempt to stifle the stabbing wound in my heart she’d inflicted with her words.
“Of course,” I said. “Whatever you want.”
She stood straighter as I made my way toward the door, my knees weak from the effort, my reality beginning to crash in around me.
Ticking time bomb.
No way out.
I barely remembered my trip back to my room, thankful I’d left the door open for Millie on my way to the kitchen earlier. My hands were shaking and I wasn’t sure I could work a lock if I tried.
I stumbled into the room, finding my way to the unmade bed, remembering the peace I’d felt when I woke up beside her.
All of that was gone now.
Staring into the mirror across from me, I let out a shaky laugh.
God, I was an idiot.
Did I really think I could push all of this aside? That one night with an absolute stranger would suddenly make this all go away?
The years of pain and struggling to survive, and now this? My future had just been reduced to nothing but a bunch of test results.
I was alone.
I’d always been alone.
And, in this lonely world I’d created for myself, I’d find a way to survive this, like I had with every other obstacle that had passed my way.
Because that was what I did.
I survived.
“I need a ride into town,” I announced after arriving back into the kitchen just twenty minutes after I left it.
Millie, still looking as hot as ever in that flowery dress that made her legs look a mile long, turned to stare at me, mouth wide open in shock. “Um, what?”
“I need a ride. Into town. Did I stutter? Or was it the accent that made you stumble?”
She’d just finished cleaning the kitchen and preparing what appeared to be a picnic lunch for someone when I boldly announced my demand, causing her to turn abruptly around from the counter to face me.
God, she was gorgeous. Every inch of her skin had been mine last night. Every moan, every—
Stay focused, Aiden.
“I thought we’d agreed this thing between us was going to be strictly—”
“Professional? Yes. It is, which is why, I, the guest, am asking you, the innkeeper, for a ride into town.”
She pressed her lips together, causing me to nearly groan. “I’m not sure that’s exactly part of my duties.”
“What exactly is in the scope of your duties?” I asked, folding my hands across my broad chest.
Her eyes watched as I did, making me horny and frustrated in equal amounts.
“Why don’t I give you my sister’s car for the day? That way, you can run whatever errands you need to do.”
I immediately shook my head. “Nope, sorry. Won’t work.”
“What? Why?”
She was clearly getting frustrated with me as well, her face growing a shade darker as her stance took on an exasperated appearance.
“I don’t have a license,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, you don’t have a license? Everyone has a license.”
I shook my head. “Maybe everyone who is born here. But I moved to the States when I was eighteen and to New York City no less. Getting a driver’s license wasn’t exactly at the top of my list of important things to do. Not when I could take the subway everywhere.”
It wasn’t an entirely far-fetched lie. Lots of people in the city didn’t process driver’s licenses. And those who did sometimes let them expire when they were up for renewal because having a car in the city was a hassle.
The truth was, I just didn’t trust myself behind the wheel anymore.
Especially in a new town.
Especially with those test results still buried deep in my pocket.
It took her a moment to respond. “Fine,” she finally said. “But don’t think this means anything. And I can’t be gone all day. I have thi
ngs I need to do, too.”
My hands went up in self-defense. “Fine,” I answered. “Just a quick trip to meet up with Dean.”
“Good.”
“And then a trip to the ferry terminal.”
Her eyebrows rose. “What?”
“I need to see the remnants of my piece.”
She let out an exasperated breath. “Fine.”
“And then lunch.”
“What?” she practically yelled.
“Well, a guy has to eat.”
She muttered obscenities all the way to the car as I followed close behind, trying not to laugh.
This was going to be fun.
We headed out of town first. After learning from his brother, Taylor, that Dean was leading a fishing tour until noon, I decided it might be best to spend some time with the ruins of my artwork while we waited for him to return to dry land.
“Taylor said Dean would meet us at that place we had drinks at last night,” I said as we sped down the highway out of Ocracoke and toward the docks. “He didn’t describe it as such, but I figured it was the same place, based on the location. You can join us if you’d like. I’m sure your mate Billy wouldn’t mind another visit.”
She gave me a sideways glance before focusing back on the road. “What is that supposed to mean? Oh God, you’re trying to figure out if I dated Billy, aren’t you? You’re relentless.”
My eyebrows rose in blatant curiosity. “Well, did you?”
She shook her head.
“I’m merely curious.”
“I thought we were being professional,” she said, her eyes still set dead ahead.
“I can’t be professionally curious?”
She finally looked over at me, a doubtful sort of look that told me she didn’t trust me in the least.
Good. She shouldn’t.
My intentions were less than honorable.
Millie McIntyre had made herself clear.
Crystal clear in fact.
She’d woken up beside me this morning and basically catapulted her body as far away from mine as physically possible.
She didn’t want anything to do with me.
Or at least, the practical side of her didn’t. The uptight, think-it-through, I shouldn’t have sex with a guy I barely know side of her. But strip that away? Take away all the bullshit and reservations she had been clinging to in her hungover state, and I knew deep down was the woman I’d fallen into bed with.