by Cheryl Holt
If he had bumped into her, what would he say?
He didn't know what he wanted from her. He didn't think he wanted anything. Or maybe he'd just wanted to scratch his sexual itch, but he hadn't. He was more fixated on her than ever, but what was the point? Why was he in Colorado?
He didn't have a stinking clue.
His phone pinged, indicating that he'd received a text message. He glanced down, irked and expecting it to be Chantal again. To his surprise, it was from Lucas's fiancée, Faith Benjamin.
I know you're in Colorado, she'd written. You'd better come to Thxgiving dinner, or I'll have Lucas beat you up. He claims he's still big enough and bad enough.
He smiled. It was her third invitation, and he'd deleted the previous two.
This was probably why he was feeling so out-of-sorts.
He was desperately eager to have dinner with Lucas and his new family. He wanted to meet his nephew, Bryce, and his half-sister, Peanut. He'd like to imagine—even if it was for only a few hours—that he was a normal person with a regular life.
Was Faith aware of how vehemently Dustin had worked to prevent her marriage to Lucas? Had Lucas told her?
He couldn't have, or she wouldn't be so adamant about having him in her home.
He'd meant to hate Faith. He'd meant to erect a brick wall between him and her, to ignore her and pretend she didn't exist. He'd meant to act precisely how his mother would act toward her.
But why should he treat her that way? Was he prepared to miss Lucas's wedding? Would he forever fight with his brother? Could there never be any healing? Now that Lucas was starting over with Faith, wouldn't it be best for Dustin to start over with Lucas?
I'll be there around noon, he typed in reply, and as his thumb hovered over the keypad, he suffered a mild panic attack.
He simply couldn't picture himself at Faith's house, strolling in with some flowers and a bottle of wine, and facing down her family.
The idea was alarming in a manner he couldn't explain.
I'm bringing a guest, he added. Is that ok?
He sent the message, then waited, waited, and received the answer, Of course it's ok. See you Thursday!
He shook his head, worried over what he'd set in motion. Then he climbed in his SUV and drove down the mountain. The roads were icy and snow packed, and he crept along, so it took an eternity to arrive in Gold Creek. He proceeded directly to the newspaper office and parked at the curb.
Through the front window, he could see Amy. She was at the counter, helping a customer.
He went in, and as he entered, a bell jingled over the door, but she didn't notice.
"Check the spelling," she was telling the customer. "Make sure this is exactly what you want the ad to say."
Dustin watched her, feeling ridiculously happy. Eventually, she glanced up, and she flinched with surprise.
"Hello, stranger."
"Hello, yourself."
"Give me a minute." She pointed to the customer. "We're almost done."
"Take your time."
The man paid her some money, stuffed his wallet in his pocket, and left.
Dustin walked over to the counter and rested his weight on his elbows. She did the same so they were practically nose to nose. He bent in and stole a quick kiss.
"Have you seen the latest edition of the paper?" she asked.
"No."
"It only comes out on Wednesdays. I thought you might like the headline." She grabbed a copy and held it up.
Merriweather Industries Intent on Sale of Downtown
"Would you stop picking on me?"
"Why would I? It's too enjoyable. Besides, you're in the wrong. Someone needs to keep reminding you."
"And that would be you?"
"Who else?" She was brimming with mischief. "Where have you been?"
"Aspen."
"You can't just pop in and out like this. It drives me nuts."
"I know. What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"
"I'm cooking a turkey for Marge and the twins. Why? Are you wrangling for an invitation?"
"No."
"What then?"
"I want you to come to Boulder with me."
"What for?"
"To have dinner with my brother and his family."
"With you brother, Lucas?"
"Yes and his fiancée, Faith Benjamin."
"I hate him."
"You do not. Say yes. Say you'll come."
She frowned. "I don't even know them."
"Neither do I."
She studied him, and her shrewd assessment making him squirm.
"Why are you asking me?" she said.
"I don't have any idea."
"I can't leave my sisters here."
"Bring them. Bring Marge."
"The more the merrier?"
"Something like that."
"You're positive we'd be welcome?"
"No," he sarcastically replied. "I'm tricking you so they can slam the door in your face."
"Very funny."
"They're nice; you'll like them."
She reached out and linked their fingers, and she squeezed tight. It was a sweet gesture, a tender gesture, that rocked him, that made him wish he hadn't visited.
He didn't want her to be kind. He didn't want to like her so much.
"Are you all right?" she inquired.
"I think so."
"And you're serious? You'd like us to spend the holiday with your family."
"Yes, I'm serious."
She tipped her head back and forth, hemmed and hawed, then said, "What the heck? Why not?"
He chuckled, never for a second doubting that he could convince her.
"You're so easy to manipulate."
"I am not. You're just bigger than me. I'm afraid to tell you no."
"Does that mean you'll be meek and submissive on the trip and do as you're told?"
"Absolutely." She batted her lashes like an old-fashioned flirt.
"It's eleven-thirty. When will your sisters be home from school?"
"Today? Not till five. They have band practice."
"Let's go." He dragged her around the counter.
"Where?"
"To your apartment."
"I can't leave. My boss is an ogre. He'd be upset."
"Your boss is a great guy. He'd want you to take the afternoon off."
"No, he wouldn't"
"You said you'd do as you're told."
"Well, yes I did."
"Then what's it to be, Ms. Dane? Work or play?"
Her interested gaze slowly meandered down his torso. She shrugged.
"Play."
"I thought so."
She grabbed her coat, as he clicked off the lights. With trembling, awkward fingers, she locked the door, then they jumped in his car and raced up the hill.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"How long have you known Dustin?"
"How long have you known him?"
Amy stared over at Faith, the woman who was to be Dustin's sister-in-law. They were in Faith's kitchen, finishing up the dishes from the huge dinner she'd cooked.
Faith was Amy's same age, and in different circumstances, they would probably have become close friends. Amy had read about her in the tabloids back when she'd first been fighting with Lucas. The stories were terrible, so Amy had been braced for the worst. But Faith was great, simply a normal person who owned a house in Boulder with a wide front porch and tree swing in the yard.
She and Lucas were having a Christmas wedding, but they'd already settled into a domestic routine. In light of Amy's opinion about Lucas Merriweather, she'd expected grandeur and pomposity. Instead, she'd stumbled on an ordinary family that was kind, caring, and incredibly happy. Lucas's millionaire lifestyle was nowhere in evidence.
"Well, let's see," Faith said. "I met Lucas last spring, but we didn't really get together until September. So I've known Dustin a couple of months. How about you?"
"I met him a few weeks ago, but I've actually only
known him three or four days."
Faith was sipping on a glass of wine, and she'd just taken a sip. At Amy's reply, she coughed and sputtered and banged a fist on her chest.
"Three…days?"
"It's weird, isn't it?"
"And he asked you to come to Thanksgiving dinner?"
"Don't try to figure it out. I'm the one he invited, and I still can't understand why."
"I was assuming you'd been dating him forever."
"I don't think he dates, does he?"
"No, I don't think so."
They both shrugged.
"Will you see him again after this?" Faith inquired.
"I don't have any idea. I'm guessing he'll take us to Gold Creek, then fly on to LA."
Faith was drying a pan, and she bent down and stuck it in the cupboard. As she stood, the twins careened by, squealing with glee, chasing Peanut. They raced out the back door, slamming it, and Amy almost called out to them to knock it off, but Faith waved away any comment.
"Let them run off that pie. It will make the trip home easier for you."
"Hopefully, they'll sleep all the way."
The sun had dipped behind the Front Range, so the temperature was dropping, and they'd have to leave soon. There was a storm blowing into the high country, and she didn't want them to hit the beginning edge of it.
It had been a good day, filled with lively conversation and pleasant people, and she was sad to go. It was the sort of celebration that most everybody took for granted, but her childhood had been chaotic and abnormal, and as far as she was aware, she had no relatives. There had been no family gatherings.
Most holidays had been spent with Marge, just the two of them rattling around, boring each other to death. When Pamela had left the twins with them, the years had certainly brightened, but still, it was downright thrilling to attend Faith's party. Amy was so delighted that Dustin had asked her.
"I always thought," Faith mused, "that a guy brought a girl to meet the family when they were about to announce their engagement."
"So did I."
"If you barely know each other, that's probably not what's happening."
"Definitely not."
"I have to admit that when he said he was bringing a guest—"
"You didn't invite me?"
"No, but—"
"How embarrassing. He swore that you invited me. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Faith insisted. "I'm just glad he came. I pestered him relentlessly, and when he finally agreed, I didn't care who came with him. But I expected…well…ah…"
"A New York model?"
"Yes." She leaned nearer and murmured, "He has such awful taste in women. I'm relieved that you're not one of his regulars."
"I'm not even from the same planet as some of his regulars."
"Which is piquing my curiosity more and more. What is up with him?"
"Like I said: I don't have any idea. Maybe he didn't want to come by himself."
"Or maybe he wanted to come with you."
"I doubt it. I think he's sad."
"Dustin?"
"Yes, and a little lonely? It has to be hard, living as he does in LA."
"I suppose."
Faith gazed out the window where Lucas was tossing a football with his son, Bryce. Dustin was on the back steps watching them and making snarky comments about Lucas's ball handling skills. The three girls were running in circles, while Marge sat on a patio chair, chatting with Faith's mother, Gracie Green.
It was such a cozy sight that tears flooded Amy's eyes.
"Before I met Lucas," Faith said, "I had the worst opinion of him."
"Mostly deserved, from what I hear."
"Oh, absolutely deserved. I felt the same thing that you sense in Dustin. He seemed so alone."
"They have so much money, but they don't possess anything that matters."
"You're right about that."
Faith finished putting away the last dish, and she turned to Amy and cocked her head, studying her intently.
"I'd like to invite you to my wedding," she said. "Would he bring you?"
"I can't imagine he would."
"You could come without him."
"Yeah, but if he showed up with that supermodel he usually dates, I'd be so embarrassed."
"That would be awkward, wouldn't it?"
"Awkward doesn't begin to describe it."
The back door opened, and Dustin entered. He walked over to Amy and draped his arm over her shoulders. He acted as if he'd known her forever, as if they'd visited Faith a hundred times, and he wasn't concerned to have her witness a display of affection between them.
"What are you talking about?" he inquired.
"You," Faith said.
"And don't ask what we were saying," Amy added, "because we won't tell you."
"You two are just alike—which is extremely frightening to a man like me."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Amy told him.
He looked happier than he'd been in Gold Creek, as if he'd been worried about attending the dinner. She liked this side of him, liked that he could be an ordinary guy who did ordinary things.
"We need to get going," he advised her.
"I never had a chance to corner your brother and harangue at him."
"You're not going to, either."
"You were going to harangue at Lucas?" Faith asked. "About what?"
"We're selling all the old property in Gold Creek," Dustin explained. "Amy doesn't want us to."
"Then don't," Faith replied.
Amy grinned. "See how easy it would be to let me have my way?"
"I'm not letting you have your way," he insisted.
"We'll see, won't we?"
"Yes, we will." He gestured to the backyard. "Start rounding up the kids. I'm ready to hit the road." As he proceeded to the living room to grab coats and scarves, he warned, "And leave Lucas alone."
"Or what?"
"I'll wring your scrawny neck."
He strolled off, and Faith watched him, a frown marring her brow. She spun to Amy and whispered, "I think I've figured out why he brought you."
"Please enlighten me. I'm dying to know."
"He's madly in love with you."
Amy laughed and laughed. "After three days?"
"Stranger things have happened."
"Not to me."
"I'm predicting he brings you to my wedding."
"I wouldn't bet on it. You'd lose."
"Five bucks says I'm right," Faith said.
"Five bucks says you're wrong," Amy countered, and they shook hands on the wager.
"I'd tell you goodbye," Faith said, "but I don't need to. I'm pretty sure I'll be seeing a lot of you in the future."
"We can see each other in the future. It doesn't have to revolve around him."
"No, it doesn't, but I'm guessing he'll always be front and center. He won't be splitting with you any time soon."
Amy laughed again. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be together with Dustin, to be his girlfriend or whatever and to be a permanent part of his life. In the beginning, it would be exciting and exhilarating, but he was so contrary and impulsive that she'd never survive the struggle it would take to deal with him.
Dustin poked his head into the room. "Amy, quit talking. Get a move on."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Merriweather. I live to obey your every command."
As if she was a lowly private, she saluted him, winked at Faith, then went to the stoop to call the twins inside.
* * *
"When will you be back?"
"Monday morning."
Pamela peered over at Chad. His bag was packed and over by the door. He was eager to depart—without her.
He was off to his mother's in Glenwood Springs for Thanksgiving. When he'd initially mentioned it, she'd assumed she was accompanying him. After all, she'd been with him for six months.
So it had come as a huge shock to learn that she wasn't invited. She was trying to pretend that s
he wasn't furious over the slight, but she wasn't hiding it very well.
"Those family gatherings can be extremely stressful," she said. "Are you positive you want to go?"
"What else would I do?"
"We could have a quiet weekend here in Gold Creek."
"Here?" He glanced around at their small house, at the rented furniture and crappy carpet, as if it was a torture chamber.
"Or we could fly to Mexico and lay on the beach."
He chuckled as if she'd suggested a wild and forbidden journey.
"I couldn't. I've never missed one of my mother's holiday dinners. If I didn't show, I'd never hear the end of it."
He was thirty years old. What would it be like to be married to him? Would she ever drag him away from his mother?
"I'm sure you'll have a blast seeing everybody," she said.
"I'm sure I will, too."
"Is there anything special you'd like me to do while you're away?"
"Maybe keep the walks shoveled? It's supposed to snow like crazy on Friday."
She bit down a rude retort so she wouldn't irately remind him that she wasn't a servant.
"I can do that."
"And you could pen the invitations for the dinner party we're having. I want you to research all the county big-wigs and include them on the guest list. We have to counter Amy's nonsense about the sale."
"Okay."
"When's she leaving, by the way? Did she give you a date?"
"After the first of the year. She thought it would be too hectic to move during the holidays."
"Great. She can't go soon enough for me. I'll let Merriweather know we've gotten rid of her. He'll be glad to hear it."
Pamela had no idea why she'd lied about her meeting with Amy or the fact that Amy had flatly refused to go. Pamela couldn't tell Chad the truth. It would have brought on a bitter fight that she was determined to avoid at all costs.
She must have looked forlorn, because he slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek—not the mouth.
"I'm sorry you can't come," he claimed.
"Don't worry about it."
"My mother's fussy. She just likes to have family over."
Which either meant Pamela was not yet considered family or that Chad hadn't mentioned her to his mother. Pam was convinced it was the latter. The bastard.
"I understand."