A Moment of Bliss

Home > Other > A Moment of Bliss > Page 21
A Moment of Bliss Page 21

by Heather McGovern


  Temporary.

  The word ran through his mind again, and he let it. He mouthed the word because he needed the reminder. She would leave in a few days, without hesitation, and he’d have to let her. In the meantime, he needed to get his shit together and accept what she offered at face value.

  Madison opened the door, already in her running gear and shoes. “Hi.” She scanned him from the skull cap on his head to the Mizunos on his feet. “Great minds think alike?”

  Keep it light and keep it simple, he reminded himself. Unimportant chitchat. Like trying not to scare off a damn deer.

  “Figured the rest of the week will be hectic as hell. I need to get out before it starts, wondered if you might as well.”

  She smiled, her green eyes bright, but something else reflected in their shine.

  “There’s another trail, with a steeper incline, if you’re willing to go up the mountain a little ways.” And little chance of talking while running. The trail was a killer. “Hell of a view too.”

  Madison closed her door, sliding the room key into the tiny pocket of her running pants. “I could do some uphill. Is the view even better than the one from the veranda? Don’t say yes, because I don’t have time to move this ceremony.”

  “It’s not that good and it is no place for a wedding. You’ll see.”

  She followed him down the quiet hall of empty rooms. Downstairs, the smell of coffee drifted through the great room, the sound of laughter from the restaurant. It had to be Sophie and Wright because Dev was nowhere near up at this hour.

  “You want coffee or anything?” Roark asked Madison.

  “No, I had some in my room. Made it with the teeny tiny coffeepot.”

  “We’re lucky we even have those. The red tape it took to get four-cup coffeepots in a room was unbelievable.”

  They walked outside, the crisp fall morning making him come alive more than any caffeine ever could. Roark took a deep breath in, the faint scent of wood smoke overlaid by the smell of dry leaves and grass filling his senses.

  “That is such a great smell,” Madison said beside him.

  “Addictive.”

  They walked and stretched on their way down the path and driveway, starting out barely jogging as they headed up the mountain. After a couple of bends, it steepened, the burn already starting in the backs of his legs. The trail cut off to the right and he pointed to it, up ahead.

  “You lead the way,” Madison panted out.

  “You sure? You’re not going to race me this time?”

  She shook her head. “Might be some spiderwebs. You get to go first. Take them all down with your face.”

  He managed to breathe out a laugh and turned onto the path. “Should’ve known there was a catch.”

  “Just getting you back for the spider crack last time we ran.”

  “That was over a week ago,” he joked, but inside he fist pumped that she’d lightened up enough to tease him.

  As they made their way to the path, she commented on the oncoming fall color, her tone lighter than yesterday, her face less stony and tight. If he could get her to relax again and joke with him, he’d take her running every day, and use his face to take down every spiderweb he could find.

  Madison jogged up beside him. “How many did you hit?”

  “Two or three webs, no spiders. That I know of. But thanks for asking.”

  This time she didn’t push to run past him, so he didn’t ramp up his speed. Instead they matched their pace, both of them falling into a rhythm, not saying a word for miles.

  Once they neared the vista, Roark pointed up ahead. “We got about another quarter mile, if you want to slow down.”

  Madison slowed her pace and he did the same, until they were down to a swift walk, panting for air.

  “Hey,” she called for his attention. “Thanks for . . .” She gestured toward the path.

  “For what?”

  “Inviting me to run with you.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” His words came out in short puffs.

  She flung her hands up. “Because I was a moody pain in the ass the last couple of days?”

  “You were?” He turned to her, his eyes wide.

  “I was.” She bumped her arm against him.

  “You were our pita guest yesterday.”

  She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

  Regardless, she ought to know he enjoyed spending time with her, whether they were planning a wedding or jogging or sleeping together, or even dealing with her poor mood. What was he going to do, not run with her? Not spend time with her? Ignore the issue so they couldn’t enjoy what little time was left?

  Not an option.

  They followed the path around a few bends, jumping the occasional hole or thick root.

  Madison took a quick breath in, but then stopped. A moment later she flung her hand out as though tossing away a thought. “It’s just that . . . a lot of people find me . . . difficult. This isn’t news to me. I’m not the sort of person who relaxes well. Doesn’t make me much fun to hang out with.”

  Roark looked over at her, watching until she glanced back at him. “You call this relaxing?”

  “You know what I mean. I’m not great at hanging out or whatever. I work, I talk about work, and I make plans, for work. That’s what I’m good at. It gets beyond that and I . . . I don’t know.”

  But she was talking to him again, and about more than work. Whether she realized it or not, she was sharing.

  “You’re also great at sex. Don’t sell yourself short there.”

  She laughed, shoving at his shoulder, making him step out wide. “True. Sex I’m pretty great at too. But this is . . . This is okay.”

  Which meant they should stick with this type of activity. Running and small talk, sex and work. That was all on the table. Intimate reveals about her past while cuddled naked together under some quilts: too much for her to handle.

  Too bad the time with her by the campfire was also one of the best moments of his life. A moment when he’d shared a part of himself he never spoke about. Roark didn’t off-load on people, but he’d opened up to Madison. She’d opened up to him about her past. Something he couldn’t heal, but a similarity they shared. Neither of them was used to relying on someone else, laying their weaknesses and hurts bare, but they had.

  They’d been honest and vulnerable, and the moment connected them like the threads of those quilts. He was stronger as a result, but it’d scared the shit out of her.

  He slowed down, seeing the curve in the trail ahead, the way it swung wide, rock meeting dirt and opening up so hikers could see the valley below. “Up there. That’s us.”

  Madison peered over at him. “We don’t have to climb out on some rock or something, do we?”

  “No. Come on. Have a little faith.” Roark found the trail, overgrown by some evergreen branches. He held them back so Madison could follow.

  “Why does it seem like you’re always leading me out into perilous territory? Dead-end paths, secluded lakesides. It’d be like a horror movie if this place wasn’t so freaking charming.”

  Roark stopped and Madison collided with his back.

  “It’s not a horror movie.” He turned to her. “You’ll see, and then you’re going to feel very bad for saying that. All we have to do is pick our way through some trees and walk out on this rock, which is about a half mile wide, and you can see the valley below. It isn’t dangerous, it’s gorgeous.”

  He began walking again, with Madison jerking on the back of his shirt. “I specifically asked if I had to climb out on some rock and you said no.”

  “We’re not climbing. We’re walking.”

  They ducked under and around a few more tree branches until several feet in front of them, the rock widened up to a long, slightly sloping surface, perfect for sitting or lying down on at night and stargazing. During the day though, it provided a spot to enjoy the beautiful view of the valley and town below.

  “Come see.” Roark held on to her arm,
helping her forward. “I want you to be in awe, so I can say I told you so.”

  Madison elbowed him with the arm he held, but her smile was worth it.

  “You can see the steeple of the Lutheran church.” He pointed to the left. “And a few of the buildings right outside of town. That’s Stewart Farms. The post office.”

  Madison rocked up onto her toes, quietly taking in the panorama. Roark didn’t let go of her arm. He slowly, and slyly, tucked it under, until she was holding his arm.

  The longest minute went by and she didn’t pull away, or speak.

  “This is an incredible view,” she finally said, looking up at him. “It’s adorable. Have you ever come up here when it snows?”

  He took a second to answer, first soaking up this small victory. “Yes, but not since I was a kid. The grown-up in me isn’t interested in hiking uphill, over four miles, in a foot of snow.”

  “I bet it looks like a Christmas postcard though. A real Currier and Ives come to life.”

  Roark turned to her. He wasn’t really shocked, but he knew an opening when he saw one. “What do you know about Currier and Ives?”

  “Come on. I know picturesque romanticism. It’s my job to know. One of these days, someone is going to want a winter-wonderland wedding, and I will have to be the queen of snow.”

  “I think I’d rather deal with horses than snow.” He grimaced. “No, I know I’d rather deal with horses.”

  Madison walked farther out on the rock and he went with her. Their breath was barely visible in the early morning chill. She looked like a snow bunny, pale pink hat pulled down over her ears, blond braid trailing down to brush her shoulder, gray and pink running gear and shoes.

  She was a snow bunny liable to bite him, but he liked that about her.

  “It’s so quiet up here,” she said. “We aren’t far from the inn and I can see the town, but it feels so secluded. Serene and . . .”

  “Insulated.”

  “Yes.” She glanced up at him. “Insulated.”

  “That’s why they call it being nestled in the mountains. You might be thousands of feet above sea level, but you’re surrounded by some of the oldest mountains on the planet. It’s a pretty secure feeling, whether it’s physical or psychological.”

  Her expression was incomprehensible, to the point he had to say something else or risk her shutting down on him again. “The leaves are starting to change too, but in a few weeks? Now that is a sight. Like a patchwork of golds and reds and orange, laid over the mountains.”

  “You love it here, don’t you?” she asked, her gaze never wavering.

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  “And you’ve never lived anywhere else? Never wanted to?”

  He shrugged. “Why would I? Even when I went to college and grad school, I was right down the road at App State. The resort is here, my family. This.” He spread his free arm out at the view before them. “Don’t get me wrong, I love to travel and get away when I can, but nowhere else can compare to this.”

  She scuffed her running shoe along the rock, finally dropping her gaze. “And it’s not all too much? With running Honeywilde and your family right there, all the time?”

  He studied the top of her pink hat, wondering what his life must look like to her. He had a never ending list of responsibilities; so did she. But his was anchored to a single place.

  “It’s too much all the damn time. The resort is a huge responsibility. There are days I want to run higher into the mountains and hide, try my hand at being the reclusive mountain man Brenda teases me about, but . . .” He shrugged again. “I love it. Running Honeywilde takes effort, and can stress me out, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. When my grandfather was alive, I remember how he thrived on it. He was proud of the inn, but he worked hard. You’ve seen how I am; that’s probably why I love it. I wouldn’t know what to do if something was easy.”

  Madison glanced up again, no judgment, her gaze open as she took him in. “You’re a lucky man, Roark Bradley.”

  He turned to her, moving his hands so he held her arms. “Believe me, I know.”

  “I’m not talking about m—”

  Roark pressed his lips to hers, silencing what she was about to say. He pulled away after a second, making sure this wasn’t something she’d object to.

  Madison stepped closer, lifting her chin ever so slightly.

  He kissed her again, her hands on his waist, then caressing his back. “I’ve missed you. Even though it’s only been a couple of days.”

  She buried her face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  He cupped the side of her face, making her look at him. “I don’t want to waste the next few days.”

  “Me either.” Madison rubbed her cheek against his palm, then tilted her head so his hand slid down her neck.

  He brushed his thumb over her pulse, a strong, thumping reminder that she was here with him now, and that’s what mattered.

  He kissed her again, dragging his tongue over her bottom lip until she leaned into him.

  “We have to go back and do actual work today,” she warned. “A lot of it.”

  “I know, but I have an idea.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Shhh. You love my ideas.” Rather than stop kissing her, he moved over to her cheek, brushing his lips over the edge of her jaw and slender column of her neck, speaking against her skin. “When we clock out tonight. Meet me in the suite downstairs again. We can make up for lost time.”

  “That is a good idea.”

  He leaned away. “Told you.”

  Her eyes sparked with a challenge and a mischievous grin curled her lips again.

  Damn, he’d missed that look on her. It’d only been two days, but he’d mourned the loss of it like it was water.

  “I have an idea too,” she said.

  “Do tell.”

  “We’re going to race back down the mountain and whoever wins gets to call the shots tonight.”

  “You’re on,” Roark said, as they both took off. But regardless of who came in first, he’d already won.

  Chapter 22

  She woke in her own bed the next morning, too sore for another run. That’s what she got for racing Roark all the way back to the inn—she’d won, but only by a hair and she was pretty sure he threw the race—and spending the night with him downstairs, before sneaking back up in the wee hours.

  Madison smiled, remembering the way he’d touched her, his hands on her waist, tilting her, lifting her, until the friction was just right and she felt like a starburst exploding across the night.

  A shiver ran through her as she sat up, the sensations of the night before still fresh in her body. Just as well there’d be no running this day. She wouldn’t make it a mile, and the wedding party arrived this afternoon.

  They’d rushed to plan, preparing for days, and today they’d begin to execute. She and Roark needed their heads in the game.

  Downstairs, a fire already crackled in the stone fireplace, but she couldn’t find anyone. At this hour, Roark and Sophie were normally up, bustling around.

  That’s when Madison heard them: the buzz of many voices, all talking at once, and then total silence. She followed the odd rhythm of conversation to Roark’s office. The door was pushed to, but not closed all the way. She eased it open in time for the clamor of conversation to stop once again, as everyone turned to stare at her.

  Inside his office, Roark glowered from behind the desk, Sophie lurked near the window, and on the other side of the desk stood Devlin and a man she hadn’t met. He was a few years younger, but with the same distinctive dark hair and piercing blue eyes of the other two Bradley boys.

  It had to be Trevor.

  Beau yipped in excitement, running over to her for a quick lick before circling the guy’s legs, all but bouncing up and down.

  Definitely Trevor.

  Madison eased her hand up in greeting. She should back out of the room quickly and let everyone pretend her sudden appearance was only
their imagination. If this was truly the prodigal son, returned from his adventures abroad, she shouldn’t have any part of it.

  Roark wasn’t secretive about his feelings on the situation with Trevor. Add to that the events scheduled to kick off today and the sour looks currently marring everyone’s faces, this was clearly not a cheerful reunion.

  “Might as well come on in and join the party.” The sarcasm dripped from Devlin’s words as he waved her in. “I’m sure we can squeeze two or three more in here. No reason to miss out on all the fun—”

  “Don’t do that,” Roark said, interrupting his brother. “Don’t make light of this and don’t try to drag her into it. It’s got nothing to do with her.” His voice was level, but the tone steely and strong.

  “The hell it doesn’t.”

  “It doesn’t. Madison is at Honeywilde for business. She’s not a part of our personal issues,” Roark argued, shooting her an apologetic look. He knew how uncomfortable this would be for her.

  “Oh, okay. Right,” Devlin said, but his petulant tone meant Roark was the furthest thing from right.

  “She doesn’t need to be involved in our family drama.” Roark tried another point of argument, this time with a little more volume behind it.

  And he was right. Really, she didn’t need to be in the middle of this. She wasn’t big on drama and family wasn’t her forte, but for some reason, Roark insisting she wanted nothing to do with them or their personal lives, made her skin prickle in defense.

  As twisted as it was—and she knew it was really freaking twisted—she didn’t want to be left out of whatever the Bradleys had going on. She knew who Trevor was, and because she knew how Roark felt about things with his brother, a part of her wanted to be here.

  Hell if she could explain it, but rather than wanting to hide, she wanted to know what was going on.

  Devlin jabbed his thumb over his shoulder toward her. “Her big wedding is the reason you’re trying to kick our brother out.”

  “What?” Madison stepped fully into the office. “You don’t have to—”

 

‹ Prev