Her shoulders pressed back into the door like she needed help standing.
He stood there still as she inspected him. Like he had expected it. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. But as the silence drew on, his brows drew together, a curious smile toying with his lips.
It was the smile that snapped her out of it. She remembered that fucking smile. That same smile she had seen on his face the last time she had seen him. Six months before. When he told her he was heading out of Stars Landing for a while.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, forcing her eyes back to his.
The smile spread out then, making the edges of his eyes crinkle, making hi face seem less dangerous. “Awe, Emmy, is that any way to greet your man?”
“You're not my man,” she countered, already feeling the anger build. There was no one in the world who could get her riled as quickly. “You haven't been my man since you came in and told me, not asked, not discussed with me, told me that you were heading out of town for a while.”
She paused, the memory of that goodbye coming back fresh. It reminded her a lot of this homecoming and she wondered if he had planned it that way. She had gotten back to her room after a late night, finding two bags packed by the foot of her bed. Dane had been standing there wearing some ridiculous rope sandals in a pair of black bathing suit shorts. He had been holding a t-shirt in his hand. Like he fully intended to be wearing it, but wanted to grace her with one last look at his glorious body.
There had been shock in that moment. Followed slowly by a sadness she hadn't wanted to acknowledge. “What's up, Dane?”
He had titled his head to the side, offering her a small smile. “I am heading to the west coast for a while. I need a change in scenery.” Words she took as meaning he needed a break from whatever the hell situation they had going on for the better part of a year. On again, off again. No titles. No love words. Just seat-filling at events, sex when they were alone, shared meals. Everything a couple does. Without the talk about commitment.
A year of feeling like she didn't know where she stood. So she always had one foot planted firmly out the door. Just in case.
But then he was there... ending it.
And there had been grief.
“What the hell are you doing here, Dane?”
“I got back this morning,” he said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. Like it was natural. And it was. Because he had done it a hundred times before.
“That's not what I asked,” she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here? As in in my room?”
He looked up at her from under her lashes and she swore she felt her knees get wobbly for the barest of seconds. “Come on, baby,” he said, his voice deep, velvety. Which would normally turn her insides to putty. But she felt nothing but rising agitation. “you know you missed me.”
Emily narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah, sure,” she admitted, feeling detached from those feelings of wretched insecurity and longing. “I missed you. For the first week. And then the first month. And then after that, well, it became a lot easier to not miss you.”
“Why's that?”
“Because you're a fucking asshole.”
Dane's smile spread out slowly, making his startling eyes seem warm. Like she could just sink into them. “But I'm your fucking asshole,” he countered.
Emily closed her eyes, tilting her head up toward the ceiling.
He wasn't wrong. Even before they had gotten physical, they had been friends. Easy, uncomplicated. They got each other. They were the only people in the town capable of overlooking the others damage, the sharp edges that would have bloodied anyone else who wasn't wearing coats of impenetrable armor like they did.
“Where were you for half a year?” she asked, still looking at the ceiling.
“California,” Dane said, watching her.
“Doing?”
“Women,” he said, smiling a devilish smile she missed because she still refused to look at him.
Emily closed her eyes, shaking her head, willing herself to get some patience. When she looked over at him again though, it all flew away. “You're thirty-four years old, Dane. You're too old for... sowing your wild oats. Grow up.”
“Yeah see,” he said, getting up from the bed and starting toward her. “that's what I figured out.”
“After how many women?” Emily asked, just to be snippy. Not out of jealousy. It didn't really even matter.
He had the good sense to look sheepish, reaching out to grab the string for her hood and toying with it. “Twenty. Give or take.” At her eye roll, he chuckled, a deep rumbling sound in his chest. “Not one of them was as sexy as you, Red,” he said, dipping his head to look her in the eye.
“Oh, my life goal: being a sex standard you hold other women to,” she said, trying not to be the first to break the eye contact.
“It' wasn't just about the sex,” he said, looking frustrated. At her curious look, he went on. “Leaving. It wasn't just because I wanted to fuck any pretty thing with long legs, Em.”
“Then what was it?”
His hand dropped from her and he turned away, moving toward the window and looking out. “This town. I had never seen anywhere else. I... I was worried everything important was happening someplace else.”
“Was it?”
He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes twinkling, but he was not smiling. “Not gonna lie... there was a lot of stuff out there that I'm glad I got to experience. Surfing. Public transportation. A huge variety of people to cross paths with everyday. It was full of limitless possibilities.”
“But...”
“But it was empty,” he said, shrugging. “I think when you grow up here, seeing the same faces everyday... knowing they actually give a shit about your existence... it changes how you look at the world. It felt cold out there. My neighbors never even bothered to wave to me. And all everyone was concerned with who you are. Not as a person. I mean like... they wanted to know if you're someone important. Someone that mattered. Because the only thing they give a shit about is themselves.”
“What's the matter?” she asked, feeling malicious. “Mad that they stole your thing?” At his blank look, she went on. “Your selfish, self-serving thing?” she clarified.
“Jesus Christ, Em,” he said, turning back to face her. “I'm here. I'm back. I fucked up. I get it. But I'm here.”
Why was she fighting it so hard? True, there was resentment. Perhaps more of it than she had been willing to acknowledge before. Wrapped up in the insecurity his departure had left. Because she had known he was out there whoring it up. Which was something that before they started... doing whatever it was they they did for that year... they had talked openly about their sex lives. Their mutual appreciation for variety. Their healthy attraction to the opposite sex. Neither had been a saint. And they had taken pride in that.
It was ego that had her feeling like he should have stayed. Ego that whispered at her that she was worth a hundred skanky west coast chicks. Her ego that wanted him to come crawling back to her.
And yet... there he was. As close to crawling as his huge ego would let him get. This was what she thought she had wanted. All that time... for him to come back and admit he screwed up. Ask for another chance.
So why was she throwing it back in his face?
An image of James popped unexpected into her mind, making her curse quietly under her breath. That was ridiculous. They'd had sex twice. And she promised herself that it was over. It was over. No matter what James had growled at her as they had gotten out of the car. It was her decision and it was done. She wasn't going to put her professional life at risk for a stupid fling with her new boss. It wasn't worth it and she wasn't going to put herself into that situation.
So he absolutely could not be the reason she was being a total bitch to Dane.
Dane's head turned to the side, considering her. “Another guy, huh?” At her wide
eyes, he sent her a sad smile, shaking his head. “Is he good enough?”
“There isn't anyone else,” she said. Technically it was true. At his patient look, she sighed. “It's a long story, Dane.”
“I have time.”
“The inn got bought,” she started. That's how far behind on news he was. He had left soon after Marion had died thinking, just as she had, that the inn was all hers.
“What the fuck do you mean it got bought?” he asked, starting toward her.
Emily held up her hands. “Marion didn't leave a will. It went up for sale.” Dane opened his mouth to speak and she pushed on. “Hannah's husband bought it.”
Dane stopped walking, looking at her through confused eyes. “EM Corp guy?”
“Yeah. He bought it because he knew it would mean a lot to her. And then Hannah made him send his brother down here to fuck with me.”
“Seems to have accomplished that,” he said, looking at her with an unnervingly understanding look. “I've known you for a long time, Emmy. You're all in knots.”
“It's nothing,” she said, waving a hand. “We got stuck up at the lodge in this ridiculous snowstorm. And it was all sexy and romantic. We had sex twice. That's it. It's over.”
“Prove it,” Dane said, his eyes looking deeper, heavy lidded as he stepped closer to her, pushing her back against the door with his body and leaning down toward her face. Waiting.
She could do it. She had done it thousands of times before. That mouth held the knowledge of hers. That tongue had been between her legs, drawing screaming orgasms out of her. That chest had been a place she had rested and fought tears when Marion had died. Those arms had held her.
She could do it. Fall right back into Dane. Find something there. Something lasting. Now that he had decided to put down roots. He wouldn't run away again. They had history. Hundreds of nights sharing secrets, creating inside jokes, teasing. They could be happy. In their own odd way, loving.
It wouldn't be perfect. They both had hot tempers and clumsy, careless tongues too prone toward name calling and harsh words. They both pulled into themselves when they should have reached out toward the other. They took pride in their defenses.
It wouldn't be perfect. But it would be familiar. Comfortable. Easy.
But it wouldn't be right.
She whimpered, leaning forward and resting her head against his shoulder. There wasn't a hesitation as his hands went up and around her, pulling her tightly against him. They stood that way for a long time, Emily taking comfort, Dane offering it without having to be asked.
“You know...” he said after a long time. “I have a full summer of Boy Scouts under my belt,” he said, sounding light and silly. “I'm really good at untying knots.”
Emily laughed, a unexpected burst of giggles into the side of his neck, bringing tears to her eyes.
Dane grabbed her shoulders, moving her a few inches from his body, reaching up and wiping the happy tears from her cheeks. “Look,” he said, leaning down to look her in the eye. “I'm here. I am gonna con the bar into giving me my job back...”
“That wont be hard,” Emily said, snorting. “that new kid they have working the bar keeps cutting people off after two drinks. Eric threw a fit earlier this year when he was trying to throw himself into a bottle over Lena...”
“Wait,” he said, holding his hands up to stop her. “Eric was throwing himself into a bottle... over a woman?”
Emily laughed, nodding. Dane and Eric had always been good friends, both shameless bad boys and womanizers. “I know. Hard to believe, right? She's some chick from the city. She was wound like a top when she showed up here. But he's like head over heels for her now. She's our baker.”
Dane rubbed a hand over his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “I lived here for thirty-four fucking years and nothing interesting ever happened. I leave for six months and the whole damn town turns upside down.”
“You should go see him. I think he missed you. And your little bromance thing.”
Dane laughed, giving her a familiar smile. “I will. I need to see this woman who was able to cut off his balls. But look,” he said, the smile dropping suddenly. “Like I said... I'm here. I'll be here. Taking my bar back. Getting a new place. Catching up on everything. I know you're not ready for me yet. But I'll be here. So whenever you're ready...”
Emily smiled oddly, turning her head slightly. “Are you telling me you'll... wait for me?” she asked, sounding dangerously close to laughing.
Dane ducked his head, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I guess I am.”
She squinted her eyes at him. “What happened to you in California?” she asked. She looked at him, shaking her head again. “Okay. I need coffee,” she said, opening the door and practically running into the hallway.
What kind of twilight zone had she stepped into? Had they driven into a wormhole or something on the way back from the lodge? Hell, on the way to the lodge? Because that was the only possible explanation for what was going on in her life.
In all honesty, she thought Dane was gone for good. A week after he had left, she had gone to his apartment to collect a few items of clothes she had left there only to find the entire place empty. Everything was gone from the pots and pans in the kitchen to the furniture. She had found her clothes neatly folded on the kitchen counter though.
He had been thinking about leaving for a long time before he had actually decided to go. She had been working under the assumption that he had just made a spontaneous decision to head out, do some exploring. Something she didn't even really blame him for. She had understood that even if she felt a little betrayed.
But the planning had sent her into wronged woman mode.
Because he should have told her. No matter how convoluted their strange relationship got, they were always supposed to be friends underneath it all. He was supposed to talk about her about stuff like that. About feeling antsy. About feeling the need to flee.
If they didn't even have the friendship... what was the point?
No one had heard from Dane either. His family had scattered over the years, his siblings off to the city, his parents down to the warmth and easy winters of Florida. Emily had been the one who had to tell everyone he was gone. Had tried to field the questions. But she didn't have the answers.
The last thing she had expected was for him to blow back into town. Just when she had stopped wishing she could call him after a bad day, or tell him something crazy that happened in town. Just when she had smoothed over the tattered edges.
Just when she had started to... what? Like someone else? Was that what it was? Because there had been other guys. Dates. A fling or two. Little nothings.
It was like exes had new feelings radar. They always popped up when they sensed another cock in the hen house. Ready and happy to throw more complications into an already messy situation. Yeah, exes were really good at that.
Emily pushed into the kitchen to find Meggie standing there waiting. “Jesus,” she said, grabbing her chest.
“Spill,” Meggie demanded, looking like she wasn't going to be deterred.
“Dane is back,” she started with, knowing she was just trying to skate around the issue Meggie really wanted to talk about. Knowing it would work.
Meggie's mouth fell comically open. “Wait... what?”
“Yeah. He's in my room right now.”
Meggie looked around the room for a second, fighting the frustration, the confusion, the feelings she had regarding Dane because of loyalty to her friend. “Alright... what the actual hell?”
“I know,” Emily said, going toward the coffee pot. “He's talking about how he is going to get his job at the bar back, get an apartment... and... um... wait for me.”
“Dane? This is DANE we are talking about here, right?”
“Yup.”
Meggie looked at Emmy and in her best eery voice sang, “Do do dodo, do do dodo...”
Emily thre
w her head back and laughed. That about summed it up alright.
–
James went back to the paperwork with determination to find, like Emily had so emotionally demanded, any other explanation for the discrepancies. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was make her feel the way she had felt when he had first brought it up. She had looked like she was going to break. Strong, force of nature Emily looked like she might just splinter into a million pieces.
He wasn't sure he could take it if that happened. He didn't want to be the source of that kind of hurt. Betrayal. The messenger of news he could never forgive him for bringing to her attention.
He went through the papers. He went through the computers. He called the insurance company. He called the bank where the money for the inn was deposited. And that was where he found the proof. Withdrawals from the account. That shouldn't be there.
He sat at the desk for a long time, his face in his hands, trying to find some way to tell her again without her feeling like her world was collapsing around her. Like she could never blindly trust her friends again.
Eventually, he gathered all the bank statements, the papers, the everything. He took a deep breath. There really was no good way to tell her. There was no way that wasn't going to hurt. So he just needed to tell her and get it over with and deal with the consequences.
It wasn't her fault. And he had met all the employees himself. There was no one he would have pegged as a thief. Everyone seemed to love the inn and was personally invested in making it be the best it could be. He couldn't imagine it was Meggie or Dev or Alec. But they also couldn't cross anyone off the list.
He stood outside her door for a long time, trying to get the nerve to knock. He needed to get a grip. This was work. This was what he was brought in to do. Check the books. Find where the money was going. Seeing what they could do to help free up some capitol. This was not about Emily and her feelings. This was not about being the bad guy. He was the boss. He had to inform her that this issue needed to be fixed. No matter what it took.
What The Heart Knows Page 13