by Jo McNally
* * *
LATE THE NEXT MORNING, Bree sat on the front porch sipping her coffee, lost in thought. Maggie was stretched out on the floor at her side, snoring softly. Cole was working on irrigation lines in the field between the barns and the river.
She hadn’t been surprised when he interrupted her shower yesterday after everyone finally left. The result had been two very clean people making love hard against the shower wall. And against the bathroom vanity. In the hallway. The living room. And finally, all night long in Cole’s bed. He’d been almost desperate in his pursuit of her, as if he was trying to lose himself in her in more ways than one. There was a dark edge to his need, and it worried her. He was a man on the edge, and she didn’t know what to do for him. Hot sex was great fun, but it wasn’t the answer. What was it going to take for him to lay his demons to rest?
His brother and friends were convinced that Cole needed the residential program offered for veterans in the mountains of western North Carolina called Flat Rock Retreat, but they said he kept making excuses. Should she get out of the way so he could seek the professional help he needed? She suspected his almost desperate drive to have sex yesterday afternoon was the desire to avoid discussing that, or anything else serious.
Her phone chirped with an incoming message from her very pregnant cousin.
How’s life with the hot farmer?
Bree sighed and started typing.
Complicated. How’s the pregnancy?
The next words she saw made her frown then laugh.
Also complicated. False contractions. Screaming back pain. Fat ankles. Stuck in bed by overprotective husband. I was really hoping to live vicariously through your country love affair. Are you ready to go home, then?
Bree shook her head. Malibu no longer felt like home to her. Maybe that would change once she got there and sank her toes into the beach. But in her heart, she knew it wouldn’t. Her lifelong pursuit of the trappings of wealth had been exposed as a fraud.
But was any security to be found in North Carolina, here on a farm with the damaged man she loved so much? Did he even want her to stay? Or did he need her to leave so he could focus on healing?
Hello?
The ping of Amanda’s text made her jump.
I’m here. But how’d you like it if I was there?
In Gallant Lake? Seriously? Did they catch the stalker and not tell me?
Sometimes Bree almost forgot that there was someone out there threatening to kill her.
They’re closing in on someone. And it sounds like you could use the company.
Oh, Bree, I would LOVE it! :) So the fling is over with Hot Farmer?
She leaned back and stared out across the fields. Whatever she and Cole had together was nothing as frivolous as a fling. If she really loved Cole, then she might just have to walk away from him, at least temporarily, so he could find healing. The thought made her feel both sad and hopeful.
Like I said—complicated. I’ll tell you about it when I get to Gallant Lake. Hopefully before the baby arrives.
This baby is never going to arrive. Take your time. Nora told me about Damian calling her. What an idiot. He needs to give up about that house already!
Bree stared out across the fields, which were turning greener by the day as the soybean plants grew tall. Across the road, the cattle were grazing on the hill and a couple calves were jumping around in play. Malibu was probably one of them. A truck pulled up to Nell’s produce stand, and a man in overalls emerged and stood talking to Nell. It was Arlen’s father, George. Two horses stood in the shade of the barn, tails flashing as they swished at flies.
No, this wasn’t her environment. But it could be, couldn’t it? She started typing.
Maybe I should just sell it to him.
There was a long moment of silence, and Bree laughed when she saw a response appear.
W-H-A-T ? Does this have something to do with your “complicated” relationship with Hot Farmer? Are you going country on us?
Two squirrels raced up the tree in front of Cole’s house, causing a bird to flutter out of the leaves in surprise. A small green lizard was sunning itself on the balcony railing, bobbing his head as if he was listening to hip-hop. A breeze rustled the tree branches and felt refreshing on her face. The scent of soil and new growth floated in the wind, and she felt truly content.
Child, you’re already home.
With a phone and a computer, she could run her event planning business from anywhere.
Bree felt a sense of calm unlike anything she’d experienced.
I gotta run—Zach’s got a game today. But this conversation isn’t over, young lady. For now let me just say... YOU GO, GIRL!
Since she was using a burner phone, she didn’t have her contact list handy. But her agent, Sheila, also represented Damian, so it only took one quick call to track down his number. Sheila must have given him a heads-up, because he answered the call from an unfamiliar number and spoke her name.
“Brianna? Babe, is that you?” She rolled her eyes. Every woman in his life was “babe.”
“Hi, Damian. How are you?”
He sounded agitated. “Come on, babe, how do you think I am? Your face is all over the news, and my phone’s been ringing off the hook. A reporter said you were in rehab, which I knew was bullshit. Your cousin wouldn’t tell me anything, and now Sheila tells me you have a stalker. Why did I have to hear that from our agent and not you?”
How typical of Damian to focus on his own injured ego instead of her. He’d yet to ask if she was okay. Blinking against the sun, she dragged the chaise back to a shaded corner by the screen door and sat.
His voice quieted. “You should have told me about the stalker, Bree. I could have helped. I have security connections in Hollywood.”
“I have my own security connections, Damian.”
“I have to admit, babe, I thought Sheila was joking when she told me you were hiding on a farm somewhere. You must be going out of your mind.”
“Actually not. I’m thinking of making a change.”
“To move to a farm?” He gave a sharp laugh. “That’s not the Brianna Mathews I knew!”
Bree watched a pair of hummingbirds zoom around the porch rail. He was right. She was no longer the Brianna Mathews he’d known.
“I’ve changed, Damian. It happens when people grow up.”
“That’s good. And you’re not the only one who’s grown up and changed.” There was a moment of silence then a sigh. “You may not have gone to rehab for real, but I did. I was in for three months last winter, and I’ve been clean and sober ever since. You always told me I needed to get my act together, and I finally did.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Damian. I’m happy for you.” And she truly was. He’d been in a fast downward spiral when they’d split.
“Thanks, babe. It hasn’t been easy. But I’m working hard at it.”
“That’s good, Damian. I’m happy to hear you sounding so...solid.”
He laughed. “Do I sound good enough that you might consider my offer to buy back the beach house?”
“Actually, that’s why I called. I’m giving you first dibs before it hits the market.”
“For real? Wow, things really have changed for you. That’s big of you to give me first dibs on the house I bought for you in the first place.”
Bree examined her short nails and smiled. “My money from Hot Hollywood Housewives helped keep the lights on in that house while we were married and you were snorting white powder up your nose and whoring around instead of working, so skip the guilt trip, okay? You can buy it from me or watch me sell it to someone else.”
Instead of arguing, he laughed. “Okay, okay. What’s your price?”
“You know it’s worth twenty-five, but you can have it for twenty.”
“Twenty million? That’s more than I paid the first time!”
“Yes, but it was an outdated relic back then. We remodeled, plus I’ve done even more work since you left, and the market’s changed. I’m offering it at less than market value because I want the cash. I have plans.” It was an idea that had come to her during the night, as Cole slept exhausted at her side. Something had to be done to help people like Cole and his friends. Selling the beach house would give her the funds for the particular something she had in mind.
“Plans, huh? Let me guess. You’re going to build a big mansion on some old stretch of land and watch your ranch hands work...”
“Not even close. Do you want it or not?”
“Damn, you really would sell it out from underneath me, wouldn’t you?” There was a pause, and she knew he was calculating finances in his head. “Fine. This movie is already getting a lot of buzz, and they’ve asked me to sign on for the sequel. I’ll pay the twenty, but I want something in return. I need to rebuild my image, and I want your help.”
She held her phone away from her and stared at it, certain she hadn’t heard him right. “Your image? What are you talking about?”
“Look, if we could be seen together after the stalker is caught, make people think we’ve reconciled, and that you’ve forgiven my...indiscretions...”
Which would, of course, give him tons of publicity as the reformed bad boy of Hollywood just as he started his promotional tour. He was going to use her sudden flood of media attention as a way to redeem himself.
“Maybe you could come to the movie premiere as my date.”
She laughed. “Your date at the premiere? Why?”
“Look, if we convince the world that we’re in love...”
“In love? Damian...”
“Hear me out, Bree. Come to a couple premieres. This movie is going to be a hit, and your support will make me look like a good guy at last.” He paused. “It would help us both. Don’t you have a book coming out soon?”
“Yes, but what you’re asking for...” Bree pressed her fingers against her forehead. This was turning into the strangest conversation.
“Give me something, Bree. We had some good times together, didn’t we? Before I blew it all up?”
“We did have some good times...” It was true. In the first couple years of their marriage, life was one big, overblown party. As if sensing a softening of her position, Damian kept pressing.
“Remember how much fun we had in Paris on our honeymoon?” The world was her oyster back then, and everything she looked at, Damian bought for her. She felt she’d finally put her troubles behind her.
“I remember Paris.”
“And do you remember the parties we had at the beach house? Remember when Mr. Five Oscars was singing on the balcony and his wife started pelting him with ice cubes?”
Bree laughed. “Of course. We were newlyweds, and I couldn’t believe all those famous people were actually in our home. We had some great times.”
“Look, babe, I know I made a mess of it back then. But I’m trying to be a better man now. If you forgive me, the public will forgive me. If you won’t do the premieres, maybe just have dinner with me one night? Give me a kiss somewhere where the press will see it. Say you’ll do that, and I’ll buy the house this month.”
She thought she heard a noise behind her, but she couldn’t see anything through the screen door. Maybe Cole was back from mowing. Even if he wasn’t, she should get lunch started. How would he react when she told him she was willing to stay here in North Carolina with him? “You want to kiss me in public? We’ll talk about it.” There was no way she was playing along with Damian’s games. “Let’s get together as soon as I’m back in LA.” When the call was over, Bree laid her head back on the chaise and closed her eyes, smiling to herself.
Everything was starting to fall into place.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
COLE STOOD BY the screen door, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. When he’d walked in, he’d planned on dragging Bree upstairs for more time in bed. Working in the hot sun hadn’t been enough to banish the thoughts of Travis, of the riverbank, of everyone pushing at him. In her arms was the one place where he felt safe; where he didn’t think about anything else but her. He needed Bree to drown out the voices for him. Making love with her was his temporary cure. When he heard her laughter on the porch, he figured she was talking to one of her cousins. But what she said as his hand reached for the door made his blood turn to ice.
She was talking to her ex-husband. The idiot who’d lied to her, cheated on her and laid his hands on her. The idiot she was now talking to in a soft, intimate voice. The conversation cut him to the quick.
“In love? Damian...”
And there was more. None of it sounded good to his ears, especially when she talked about being the guy’s date at a premiere. She’d be back on the red carpet in front of the cameras, right where she wanted to be.
“I remember Paris...we had some really good times.” She laughed as she said that. She laughed. With her ex-husband, the movie star.
“...kiss me in public?...Let’s get together as soon as I’m back in LA.”
She was making plans to leave him. A day after making love to him on nearly every surface in his house, she was sitting there on his porch, talking to her ex about going home.
She looked across his soybean fields, but she was probably imagining the blue Pacific Ocean stretching out in front of her. She was feeling the ocean breeze blowing through her long, red hair as she stood in her beachfront mansion, alongside her movie star husband. That was where she belonged. Not here. Who was he kidding, thinking she’d ever stay with him in Russell?
Let’s get together as soon as I’m back in LA.
It wasn’t just the words that burned. Her voice sounded excited, enthusiastic, eager to see the guy. She smiled to herself when the call ended and she lay back in the lounge, closing her eyes in obvious satisfaction. So clearly relieved at the thought of leaving his farm and returning to California.
He was such an idiot.
* * *
“I’M SUCH AN IDIOT.”
Cole downed a shot of whiskey and slammed the glass down on the bar. Maggie sat up at the sound, leaning against his legs at the bottom of the bar stool. Ty shook his head when Cole nodded at the glass for another refill.
“You’re done drowning your sorrows for today. I made a pot of coffee, and I’ve got a burger on the grill for you.” Always the big brother, Ty was staring hard at him with worry. Cole had been at The Hide-Away a few hours now. He’d driven from the farm and away from Bree right after hearing the call with her ex-husband. He could still see her there, holding on to the porch pillar in his rearview mirror, shading her eyes from the sun and looking surprised at his hasty exit.
He was the one who’d been surprised. After a day and night of making love...although for Bree, it was apparently just having sex...she could sit there so cool and composed while planning a Hollywood reconciliation with Damian Maxwell. How could he have misjudged her so badly?
As if reading his thoughts, Ty asked, “Are you sure you heard her right, man? That doesn’t sound like Bree...”
He’d replayed her conversation over and over in his mind.
“I know what I heard, Ty. She was talking about Paris, about being in love, about going to some premiere. She can’t wait to get back to LA. I swear to God, she was talking about kissing the guy! Maybe the whole stalker story was just a way to get her husband back, and she’s been lying to us all along.”
“Cole, you told me what she did at the river to save you. That didn’t sound like a woman who was faking her feelings. And when she called here just now looking for you, she didn’t sound like a woman getting ready to dump your ass. She sounded worried.”
Bree
had called The Hide-Away to make sure Cole was safe. Ty told her he was helping with a construction project at the bar. She probably thought he’d driven away with another shotgun in his hand. He scowled. Was she just hanging around to keep him safe, like some kind of babysitter?
Ty took the coffeepot and started to fill two mugs. “I don’t think sneaking off without telling you is Bree’s style. You need to talk to her and see what she’s thinking.”
“Aren’t you the same guy who said she was just like Amber?”
“What? I never said that!”
“You did. You said it yesterday on the porch.”
Ty frowned then shook his head vehemently.
“No, no, no. I was talking about you clinging to things you think you need. You thought you needed Amber two years ago. Yesterday you needed Bree. They’re not the same women by any stretch of the imagination. I was just making a point about your refusal to face your demons. You cling to people and booze and dogs as a way to distract yourself from the real issue.” He slid a mug of coffee into Cole’s hands. “The real issue is buried inside you, and you run from it by either grabbing on to something as tightly as you can or lashing out with irrational fury. You’re head over heels or over and done. It’s damned hard to keep up with.”
Cole stared into his coffee in silence. It ticked him off that he couldn’t figure out a way to deny what his brother said. He finally muttered a lame protest. “That’s not true.”
“No? Twenty-four hours ago you were absolutely certain that Bree was single-handedly going to save you, remember? You were ready to take on anyone who disagreed, even me. And today? Today she’s a back-stabbing bitch you can’t wait to get away from.”
Cole tensed. “I didn’t call her that.”
Ty laughed bitterly. “Oh, so now you’re defending her again? Damn it, even I can’t keep up with you anymore.”
A pounding pain started to build behind Cole’s left eye. Every thought seemed to contradict the last, and he was losing track faster than his brother was. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He just needed...