by Nina Crespo
“What?”
“You’re making a mess.”
“I’m hungry. I haven’t had real food all week.” She licked crumbs from her lips.
“You missed a spot.”
She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Did I get it?”
“No.” Aiden came over to her. “You still have some here.” He gently swiped his thumb over the side of her mouth, leaving a trail of electric-like tingles.
She looked into his eyes.
His gaze dropped to her lips.
Air sat in her lungs as he leaned in. Move back. That’s all she had to do. But with the warmth from his mouth drifting over hers, she was drawn to him.
As Aiden stepped closer, his hand curled against her waist, while the other gently cupped her cheek.
Decadent want rose inside of Delanie for the tastes of toast, jam, and Aiden. As she reached for him, her hand grazed the countertop.
The knife she’d used to spread butter on the toast clattered to the floor.
The spell broken, they jumped apart—ex-lovers who’d almost stuck their hands back into the proverbial cookie jar.
Her heart drummed in her chest as she looked at the knife. It lay vertically between them like a line they shouldn’t cross. What was the problem? It would have just been a kiss and nothing else, right?
She met his gaze. He frowned and shook his head as if in answer to his own silent question. “Omelet’s burning.” Aiden went back to the stove.
Delanie picked up the knife along with her empty plate and grabbed the used bowl and utensils. “I’ll get started on the dishes.”
They cleaned the kitchen in silence. Once they were done, they took mugs of hot water back with them into the reception area and made cocoa. The banter they’d engaged in earlier was momentarily lost as they retreated to their own thoughts.
He sat on the couch facing the fire and watched her as she sat on the couch to his right. Finally, the seating area was warm enough for them to leave their coats off.
Delanie tucked her feet underneath her and occupied herself by counting the logs stacked by the fireplace. Was it enough to get them through the night? With the small logs they had on hand, they’d need one per hour to keep the fire from going out. That’s the ratio her dad had taught her. He had a habit of randomly teaching her handy facts like that one when she was growing up.
Aiden sat back on the couch. “What are you smiling about?”
“I was just thinking about the survival stuff my father taught me. How long a log will last depending on its size. How to find north without a compass. How to use a pair of jeans as a flotation device.” A laugh bubbled out of her. “As a teen, I was mortified when he insisted on showing me all the ways a tampon could help me survive in the wild, from using the cotton to filter water to using the plastic part as a fishing bobber. But he insisted those things were just as important for me to learn as math or science. I used to give him so much grief for it.”
“Your dad is a wise man.”
Is? The realization punched Delanie in the gut. Aiden didn’t know. She’d assumed he and King had done a background check on her, looking for leverage. Delanie took a sip of cocoa and swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. All this time after her father’s death, and it still got her. “Yes, he was,” she said gently.
A genuinely stricken expression crossed his face. “Was? When did you lose him?”
Surprise that Aiden hadn’t known about her father delayed Delanie’s response. “Six years ago—it was a freak accident,” she said after a pause. “He was helping a friend repair the roof of his house. He dropped a tool and when he reached for it, he fell off the roof and hit his head at just the right—or in his case, wrong—angle.” She’d been backpacking through Europe with friends when she’d gotten the news. Twenty-one and parentless, she’d felt lost.
Seconds passed as Aiden stared into the fire. He put his half-full mug on the coffee table and cleared his throat. “You two were close. I can’t imagine what you went through. I’m so sorry.”
The compassion in his gaze raised discomfort. She fought to reconcile the memory of him hurting her and the genuine caring she experienced from him now. Delanie couldn’t stop herself from shifting in her seat.
“It was tough, but I managed to get through it. I moved to Los Angeles. That’s when I started working for Eve, my ex-mother-in-law. She’s in crisis management. I was her assistant and she took me under her wing. She also encouraged me to freelance as a business consultant. Once I developed a client base, I went out on my own full time.”
“I’m assuming working for Eve is how you met her son?”
“Yes.”
She’d met Day on the second anniversary of her father’s death. The grief and loneliness she’d felt had almost overwhelmed her. She’d run into him. Eve had wanted a built-in bookcase in her living room at home. He was building it for her and had stopped by the office to pick up a color sample of the stain she wanted him to use just as Delanie was rushing off to a dentist’s appointment. It was like fate had brought them together. Or so it seemed.
In Delanie’s mind, time went back to that moment. Day was the tall, muscular, male version of his mother. Any woman with a healthy libido couldn’t help but find him attractive. More important, he’d made her laugh when, honestly, she’d believed she never would again. She hadn’t allowed herself to get close to a guy after Aiden. Day’s persistence had led her into dating him. Six months later, they were married. A year later, they didn’t laugh with each other anymore. Mostly, they argued.
Unable to face memories of her broken marriage or the questions Aiden would surely ask about it, she stood. “You know, I should find that box.”
Sometimes, it was just better to let the past stay buried.
seventeen
AIDEN SANK BACK on the couch as Delanie walked to the front desk. He should have picked up on the signs that Bryan Clark wasn’t alive. Delanie hadn’t tried to call him when she was sick. She also hadn’t mentioned him in general. Given their closeness, he should have been suspicious. Guilt sank deep into Aiden. He wished he’d known. He should have been there for her all those years ago, so she wouldn’t have had to face the loss alone.
A loud thump from the front desk area brought him to his feet. He rushed to the open door behind the desk.
Delanie knelt on the floor, picking up scattered papers. A ripped box lay on the floor. She glanced up. “It was on top of another box. When I went to move it, the tape on the bottom ripped open.” The light from her phone on the ground beside her illuminated her annoyed expression.
He hunkered down beside her and helped gather the papers. “We can use one or two garbage bags to transport all of this back to Atlanta.”
“Honestly, half of this stuff may actually be garbage. From what I can see, Benjamin Granger was a pack rat. There’s not only his papers, but menus, hotel brochures, and magazines mixed in too.” Delanie released a long exhale as she slapped papers on top of each other. “At this rate, I’ll never get this valuation done.”
“Let’s carry all of this to the coffee table. I can help you sort through it.”
“No.” Delanie scooped up a stack of papers.
“What else am I going to do? It will help pass the time.”
“Damn it, Aiden. Please. I don’t want your help. Can’t you just leave me alone to do my job and stop butting into everything? No matter what you do, I’m not changing my position.”
About Kingman Partners or us? Wait. Why the hell would he even think to put that question out there? She couldn’t make it any clearer that us was no longer a part of their existence, and it was time he got that through his head.
Aiden stood. “I’m going to see if my phone can catch a signal. Lock up behind me.” He went out front to grab his coat from the couch, put on his boots, and then he left.
Outside, the wind had died down but a steady snowfall accumulated on the ground. Needing to work off his frustration, he stuffed his
hands in his coat pockets and stomped to the side of the building.
Catering to Delanie’s needs, staying around her, holding back on kisses she didn’t want from him—all he was doing was setting himself up for Delanie to reject him. He had to stop misreading the cues she was sending him, but it was fucking difficult. One minute they were getting along so well, like no time had passed since when they were together, then the next, she was shutting him out completely. There was no shot at a second chance. Hell, when had he even started to consider that delusion? It was clear that no matter how much he reminded her of the best parts of their past, she’d remember the worst.
I’m done making a fool of myself. Other than the obvious to keep them both alive tonight, he was keeping his distance from her.
Aiden came across what he’d hoped to find—more firewood under a blue tarp. At least they’d stay warm by the fire while she froze him out of her thoughts and feelings. He held up his phone, searching for a signal . . .
If he found a way out, she wouldn’t have to endure his company at all.
Delanie took a break from stacking papers into some semblance of order on the coffee table. She turned on her phone. A little more than a half hour had passed. Where was Aiden?
She wandered to the door.
Outside, the late afternoon sun wasn’t visible in the gray sky. More snowfall added inches to what already covered the parking lot and weighed on the branches of the surrounding trees.
She’d pissed him off earlier. Hopefully her anger hadn’t pushed him to walk too far toward the mountains in search of a signal. She’d never forgive herself if he got hurt over her stupid outburst, especially since she hadn’t been entirely honest about her feelings. Delanie hugged herself and ran her hands up and down her arms to combat a chill. Truthfully, she liked being around Aiden, but every minute, every laugh, every caress and almost-kiss solidified how much she’d missed him all these years. And that Eve had been right. When she’d married Day, Delanie’s heart had been split. She’d cared deeply for her husband, but part of her hadn’t been and still wasn’t over Aiden.
Sorrow caught in her chest. It was too late to undo the damage. Her marriage was over, but now Aiden was back in her life. What was she supposed to do? Finally find closure in leaving him? Forgive him? Move on?
Disconcertment and the need for a distraction spurred her to go back to the couch. She sorted through the restaurant menus stacked on the coffee table. Why did Benjamin have them filed away? Was he researching ideas for the café?
The Jade Valley Restaurant—Jade Valley Resort, Tennessee. The Oak Room—Autumn Star Hotel, New York The Golden Pearl at the Mazarine Resort and Spa, Miami. Wait—the Mazarine—wasn’t that where Aiden said he’d been on vacation before he’d come to Georgia for their meeting? She flipped to the next one. The Meridian Restaurant at the LaGrande, Atlanta. Kingman Partners had a stake in the LaGrande. Wait. She recognized the names. Except for the Jade Valley Restaurant, all of the menus were from Kingman Partners’ investment properties.
On a hunch, she picked up one of the hotel trade magazines and checked out the table of contents. She did the same with a consumer travel magazine. Her suspicions were confirmed. Benjamin had starred certain articles. All of them mentioned Kingman Partners. As she picked up the next magazine, handwritten letters slipped out the back of it onto the table.
Delanie scanned one of them and then went to the next one and the one after that. They were correspondences between Benjamin Granger and someone at a small business advisory service. Benjamin wanted to retire, but no one in his family was interested in running Echo Pines. He’d asked for advice on how to sell his business. In the letters, Delanie could see that the business advisor had encouraged him to use a business attorney, but Ben had responded with the insistence he could handle it himself. He already had a price and a company in mind. He wanted to sell Echo Pines to a company that had impressed him with their work. He saw them as the future for his legacy. The words practically leapt off the page and slapped Delanie in the face.
Kingman Partners . . .
Aiden and King hadn’t initiated buying the property or set the price—Benjamin Granger had contacted them with the offer. Aiden hadn’t lied to her after all.
Footsteps stomping on the porch brought Delanie to her feet. She hurried to the door.
Aiden stood outside.
Relief surged through her. He was okay. She let him in.
He brushed the snow off his coat and walked inside.
She shut the door. “Were you able to reach anyone?”
“I walked back up the road. I got through to the rental company, but there’s a storm advisory. The police and fire departments are asking people to stay off the roads. Not that it matters.” Aiden unlaced his boots. “From what I could see, the storm knocked down trees and power lines. The road is blocked.” He looked at her and his expression turned as chilly as the outside. “Guess the worst thing that could happen to you has come true. You’re stuck here with me and you’re probably not going to make your plane tomorrow.”
Before she could respond, Aiden walked off.
eighteen
HOURS LATER, DELANIE lay on the couch. She adjusted the pillow behind her head and pulled the comforter farther up her chest.
Aiden slept soundly on the couch across from her, his back toward her.
The crack and pop of firewood disturbed the quiet. It was more welcoming than Aiden had been after he’d returned. Brief comments and even briefer answers to her questions were the extent of his interaction with her. She’d wanted to share what she’d discovered, but the information in the letters wouldn’t have been well received. Aiden had completely shut her out.
Delanie got up to add a log to the fire. She used the poker to adjust the wood. The dying flames grew into a blaze.
She turned around and met Aiden’s direct stare as he lay on his back. Self-consciousness drove her gaze from his. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You’ve been fidgeting all night.”
Delanie went to her couch. “I can’t sleep.” She studied her interlaced fingers resting on her lap for a moment. “Can we talk?”
He looked to the ceiling. Seconds ticked by in the silence. “About?”
“I’d rather see your face when I say this. Please.”
He rolled over to face her and propped himself up on his elbow. Firelight illuminated his neutral expression. “What’s so important for me to hear that it couldn’t wait until morning?”
Déjà vu swept in. They’d had this conversation before, when he’d come to her suite that first night at the LaGrande, but he’d been the one asking her to hear him out. And she, like him now, hadn’t been interested in listening.
Payback is definitely a bitch. “I have to apologize to you. Twice.”
“Have to or you want to?”
Delanie tamped down her irritation. She deserved the same amount of resistance from Aiden that she’d given to him . . . possibly more. “I want to. First of all, I misjudged your company.” She looked to the beige letter-sized envelope she’d left on the coffee table. The letters she’d discovered were folded inside of it. “I found correspondence between Benjamin and a business mentor about his desire to sell Echo Pines to Kingman Partners for five hundred thousand dollars. It was his idea, not yours. I’m sorry for accusing you of being dishonest. I was wrong.”
Aiden slowly rolled to a sitting position and planted his sock-covered feet on the floor. “So based on the correspondence, you’ll negotiate it with us now?”
“Yes, but not exclusively.”
He raised a brow.
“Beth owns Echo Pines now, and I work for her. The letters don’t change what she’s hired me to do, but they obviously give you a clear advantage over everyone else. As long as your bid is strong, there’s a good chance she’ll sell to you. If Kingman Partners is her top choice, I’ll endorse it as a solid decision.”
He huffed a breath. “But, again, Granger approac
hed us. He wanted us to buy the property, and we even offered two hundred thousand more than his asking price. I believe that warrants an exclusive on the bid for at least a week.”
“The deal closes in two.”
Aiden shrugged. “Then give us a five-day lead on everyone else.”
“I’ll give you three.”
He studied her face. “You’re not going to budge, so there’s no use haggling over it. You said two apologies, what’s the second?”
“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.”
“You thought I was trying to gain an edge for Kingman Partners by helping you. I get it.”
“No. You don’t.” Where did she start? How did she begin to explain seven years of hating him and missing him at the same time? Or just how hard it was to see him again and keep what she felt for him under wraps? Could she trust him with all of that? “You said that seeing me again brought it all back for you. Well, it did for me too.”
“So why push me away?”
“Because I’m so fucking angry at you for walking away from us without a fight.” It wasn’t until the words were out of her mouth that Delanie realized how true they were. She’d believed her resentment was just about the destruction of trust with the sale of Clearmount, but it wasn’t. “How can you say you wanted me when you didn’t come back for me . . . for us?”
Aiden sat straight. “Believe me. I wanted to, but fighting for us would have meant putting you in the firing line. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Aiden walked to the fireplace and put more wood on the fire. The internal war raging inside of him was as volatile as the flames licking over the wood. How could he explain what happened seven year ago? How could he convey just how dysfunctional things were in his family back then? That he decided to let her go for her own well-being, her own chance at happiness?
While he repositioned the fire screen, Aiden organized his words. “You don’t walk away from my father without a well-thought-out exit plan and an ace up your sleeve. If I had left TriRoyal then, he would have made it his mission to make sure no one would hire me, and if you were with me, he would have interfered with your life too. He would have found a way to take even more from you and your father to get to me. My father doesn’t like to lose. And everything I had was tied up in his company. Without it, I had nothing to offer you.”