All of You, Always

by Lindsay Harrel

  Yeah, right. Who was she kidding? He was sexy even after a day of working on the inn. Something about that construction worker vibe apparently did it for her.

  Or maybe it was just Ben.

  Her heart twisted.

  Yes. Definitely just Ben.

  “Waiting for you. I need to . . . I need to talk to you about something.” She paused, noting a folder in his hands. “How did it go at the bank?”

  “Terrible, actually.” Ben waved the folder. “They served me with a notice of default. I have three months to pay what I owe, including fees and interest, or I can kiss this place goodbye.” Instead of hitching, his voice reported the turn of events as facts with no emotional bearing on him.

  “I’m so sorry.” Bella placed a hand on his arm then tilted her head. “But you don’t sound all that upset.”

  And there was the expected frown, but it only stayed on his lips for a moment. “Not gonna lie. It’s upsetting. But I realized something.”

  “What’s that?”

  Ben set the folder next to him then angled his body toward Bella, placing one hand on her knee and the other over the back of the couch. He caught a strand of her hair in his fingers and rubbed it in circles.

  She relished this. She’d missed this.

  But everything was about to change.

  He sighed. “I have been working so hard to save this inn, without even questioning if it’s what I want. I’m not saying I’m against it. I think if I’d had some time to get used to the idea, to study the market, to understand the best way to run an inn, then maybe I would like it.”

  “From what you’ve told me, it was trial by fire.”

  “Right. And of course, there’s the whole this-inn-has-been-in-my-family-for-generations thing.” A squeeze to her knee. “That’s not insignificant.”

  “No.” Where was he going with this?

  Her scrunched nose and squint must have given away her question because Ben smiled in reply. “But what I realized is that losing the inn wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

  “It wouldn’t?” Her voice squeaked, and Bella cleared her throat. “What do you mean?”

  Ben scooted closer, pulling her so near that her hands found their way around his neck. No, no, no. She needed to tell him. Now. But she was too intrigued, too hopeful. If he didn’t care as much about losing his inn, what did that mean? For them?

  He lowered his face so their noses touched tip to tip. “The worst thing in the world would be letting you leave without telling you how much you have come to mean to me. Bella, I know things haven’t been the same between us this week, and I’m not sure why. I want to know what’s going on in that head of yours. But even more, I need you to know what’s going on in mine.”

  It hurt too much to look at him. She squeezed her eyes shut. Tell him. But his words—they were intoxicating. And her lips trembled, longing to feel him close the gap, longing to forget the lies dangling between them.

  “Bella, I want—”

  “Well, no wonder my calls have gone unanswered.”

  Bella tore away from Ben’s embrace, her eyes searching for the disembodied voice, landing on the petite woman in a pantsuit standing at the top of the stairs.

  What was Mom doing here?

  This had to be a nightmare. Bella pinched the skin on her forearm but no such luck.

  Ben turned. When he caught sight of her mother, he straightened and stood. “Hi. Can I help you?”

  “I certainly hope so.” Mom strode toward them in her black Prada heels, nose lifted slightly, her deep brown hair pulled back in a severe bun at the nape of her neck.

  Rubbing the underside of his forearm, Ben glanced between Bella and Mom. “I’m not sure I understand. Were you looking for a place to stay?”

  The air had thinned. This wasn’t happening. Mom was going to ruin everything, just like she always did. Of course, irony of ironies, this time because she’d actually shown up.

  “I’m not here as a guest but as a future owner.” Hand outstretched, Mom reached them. “Camille Moody, Moody Development.”

  Bella cringed.

  Any warmth left drained from Ben’s face. “Ah, Ms. Moody in the flesh. You just don’t know when to give up, do you?”

  “I overheard you saying you’re not opposed to losing the inn anymore, and after hearing about your financials, I think you’re making a wise decision.”

  “Wait. What?” His eyebrows squished together. “How long were you standing there spying on us?”

  “Long enough. Spying is a Moody specialty.” Mom directed her wry grin at Bella.

  What was she doing? Bella gave a quick shake of her head, but Mom didn’t notice.

  Or just didn’t care.

  “And what did you say about my financials?” Ben stepped slightly in front of Bella, as if to protect her from this crazy woman.

  He has no idea. Oh, she might throw up.

  He continued. “I’ve told you over and over, and I’ll tell you again—I’m not interested in selling to your company. I could give you myriad reasons, but right now it’s simply because I don’t like you. I want nothing to do with the Moody name.”

  A cruel laugh barked from Mom’s throat. “Nothing? That’s not what you were saying a few minutes ago.” Her words hung in the air. She turned her eyes back to Bella once more. “Bella? Why don’t you fill your friend in on the truth?”

  Ben whipped around. “What’s she talking about?”

  Licking her lips, Bella swallowed hard. Forced through the dreaded words. “Ben, this is my mom.”

  “Your—” He backed up a step. “What does that mean?”

  “It means, Mr. Baker, that my daughter was here to convince you to sell. But it appears that instead you’ve convinced her to forget who she really is and what’s really important.” Mom pulled an envelope from the oversized purple Coach purse hanging from her shoulder and extended it toward Ben, who had pivoted so he could keep them both in his sights.

  It all appeared to be happening in slow motion.

  “What’s that?”

  “This, Mr. Baker, is another official offer, which I’ve upped by 10 percent. You have to sign by Sunday at midnight or it’s rescinded.” Tapping the envelope against her palm, Mom tilted her head, eyes glinting. “And my next offer, if there is one, won’t be so generous. Although if the financials my daughter told me about are anything remotely close to accurate, you won’t be in business in a month or two. Which means you’ll be kicking yourself for not accepting.”

  “The financials she told you about?”

  Bella wanted to go to him, to put her arms around his neck, to reassure him of her affection with a kiss. But she stayed rooted where she stood. “Ben, I can explain.”

  Ben ignored her and crossed his arms as he narrowed his gaze at the envelope. “I. Am. Not. Interested.”

  Rolling her eyes, Mom set the offer on the arm of the couch closest to her. “For now. But I look forward to hearing from you once you’ve seen past your pride to what is practical.” She looked at Bella. “I assume you don’t need a ride back to the city?”

  “As if I’d go anywhere with you right now.” Bella’s insides were on fire, a potent mixture of anger, regret, and overwhelming grief threatening to burn her to the ground.

  “Fine. But I expect to see you at work on Monday.” With a final nod, Mom turned on her heel and trounced down the stairs.

  A few moments later, the front door of the inn slammed.

  “Ben—”

  “You were sent here to spy on me?” He ground out his words, his look searing her with its intensity.

  Bella bit her lip. She could blame Mom, but the truth was the truth. “Yes.”

  Throwing up his hands, Ben strode to the door that led out to the deck.

  She hurried after him. The sight of him gripping the railing, knuckles white, triceps flexed, nearly stopped her, but she managed to make it back to his side. “I’m so sorry, Ben. I really did come to find my dad. T
hat was my price for convincing you to sell. Mom is the only one with the information I need, and I wanted that information more than anything.”

  “So, it was all a lie?”

  “No!” The breeze turned into a wind, whipping her hair around her face. “I mean, yes, it started out that way, but everything else between us was real. My feelings for you. What I told you about myself, about my family.”

  He remained silent, his attention still on the sea.

  Maybe he was hearing her. She continued. “If you’d told me a month ago, I’d never have believed it. But for the first time, I feel like I belong somewhere. Here in Walker Beach. Here with you.” Bella placed her hand on his upper arm with a tentative touch.

  Ben stiffened and moved away from her. Fire flashed in his eyes, and his cheeks drained of color. “What I can’t believe is that I trusted another liar.” His voice was ragged. “You must have thought I was a fool every time I told you something private. Every time I kissed you.”

  “Ben, no.” She was losing him. Before he could leave, Bella stepped closer, pressing her hands against his chest. “I wanted to tell you the truth so many times, but I was afraid you’d never forgive me.”

  “You were right about that.” He stepped away again, and her hands dropped like ten-pound weights. “But that’s the only thing you’re right about. All that stuff about you belonging here? No way. You know where you belong? With your mother. From what I’ve seen of her—and what I know about you—you’re just like her. A money-grubbing Moody through and through.”

  Her last name spewed from his lips like the curse word it was. “You’re both pushy. Arrogant. Willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want. And there’s no place for you here. Ever.”

  Bella sucked in air, nearly sinking to her knees. But she deserved this. Every word was true. She couldn’t escape it.

  Her legs wobbled, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, Ben.”

  “I’ll get over it. I always do.” Then he spun and left her there.

  And just as she’d been the first time she’d set foot in this town, Bella was all alone—her only family a woman who valued a business deal more than her daughter.

  For longer than Bella wanted to admit, she stood there, mourning what might have been. But it had only ever been a fantasy.

  The wind shifted, and she sighed. She couldn’t change her reality. The only thing she could do was keep moving, forging her own destiny.

  All by herself, always.

  Bella strode back inside, grabbed her bags, got in her car, and pointed it toward home.

  Chapter 12

  Somehow, in a little more than twenty-four hours, Bella had to haul herself into work and face Mom again.

  But for today, she’d see if she could beat yesterday’s record for the number of Ben & Jerry’s pints she could consume.

  Snuggling under her blanket on the couch in her apartment, Bella dug her spoon into a carton of Half Baked. The Shark Tank judges argued from her television, vying for the chance to invest in a gadget that made unbuckling car seats easier. Their bickering resounded through the four-hundred-square-foot space. The place may be tiny, but it had always been her sanctuary.

  Since returning from Walker Beach two nights ago, though, it just felt stark. Lonely.

  There was a knock on her door, and whoever was there quickly became insistent. Bella was tempted to hide under her blanket—ridiculous because whoever was in the hallway couldn’t see her.

  A key clicked in the lock, and the handle turned.

  Only one other person had a key to her place. “You’d better have dinner.”

  Jessica stepped through the doorway and held up a brown paper bag. “Antonio’s okay?”

  “The ultimate comfort food? Yes, definitely.” Throwing off the blanket, Bella lumbered to her feet. “It’ll go well with my third tub of ice cream.”

  Her best friend kicked the door shut behind her. “That’s just wrong.” She walked three steps and was in Bella’s kitchen, where she set down the bag and pulled two containers from inside. “I got you the fettuccine. Hope that’s OK. Or you can have my carbonara if you prefer.”

  Bella put the ice cream—spoon and all—back into the freezer then snagged two glasses from the cupboard. “Either one works.” She pressed the first cup to the dispenser, and a shower of ice fell in.

  Nose wrinkled, Jessica took in the full garbage can stuffed with takeout bags and cans of soda. “Have you left this place at all since you got back?”

  Bella hadn’t texted Jess that she was home until late last night just before falling asleep, so she’d been inside for forty-eight hours with no company other than TV. Jessica had cut hair all day but had promised to be over just as soon as her appointments were finished. And here she was—loyal with a capital L.

  If only the same could be said of Mom.

  Bella switched the dispenser to water and the liquid streamed into the glass, splashing over the edge onto her fingertips. “No.” Full cups in hand, she turned, headed back to the couch, and placed the glasses onto two coasters on her coffee table.

  Jess settled onto the couch next to Bella and slid Bella’s fettuccine across the leather. She eyed an empty carton of Chunky Monkey on the table. “I’d ask how you’re doing, but it seems obvious.”

  “Who, me? I’m fine.” Bella popped the top on her to-go carton and inhaled the scent of butter and cheese—both of which would undoubtedly go straight to her hips. “I mean, my mom is a backstabber, and I lost a shot with the best man I’ve ever known, but you know.” She picked up a fork and stabbed a piece of chicken nestled in the noodles.

  “Right. You’re fine.”

  “Totally fine.” The tines of the fork pirouetted around the noodles, tying them up in a neat little knot before she brought them to her lips. Not even the divine taste of Antonio’s could lift her spirits tonight. Of course, that wouldn’t stop her from eating every bite.

  “You ready to talk about it?”

  “What’s there to talk about?” Bella sipped her water, washing down the food that was overwhelming her taste buds with its richness. “I’m alone. I’m always going to be alone. That’s the way it’s destined to be. I mean, Mom’s alone. And apparently, I’m just like her.”

  A flat, emotionless tone hovered in her voice, and she despised the pity party she was throwing herself. But the words smacked of truth, and what else was there to say, really?

  “Bells, that doesn’t have to be your life.” Her food untouched, Jess leaned over to squeeze Bella’s hand. “And you’re not alone. I’m here.”

  Sighing, Bella patted Jess’s fingers. “I know. And I’m grateful for you. But someday, an amazing man is going to sweep you off your feet and take you away from me.”

  “Even when that day finally arrives, you know I’ll never leave you.” Jess paused. “So. What happened in Walker Beach?”

  “Mom showed up.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Ugh is right.” Tomorrow she’d do everything she could to avoid Mom, which would be hard given their standing all-manager Monday meeting at one o’clock. Bella would have to sit on her hands the entire hour to keep herself from throwing something at Mom’s head. But that wouldn’t stop her from fantasizing about it. And yeah, she didn’t care how immature that sounded.

  Sighing, she told Jessica the whole rotten story. “All I wanted was a family to belong to. And I got blinded by that desire, willing to be just like Mom to beat her at her own game. But I turned it around, you know? Or so I thought. I even . . .”

  “What?”

  Shaking her head, she batted away a tear that had somehow snuck past her defenses. “When I was with Ben’s family—when I was with him—it was like I’d always imagined it would be to have a family. Exactly what I’d been looking for, the reason I went to Walker Beach in the first place. It reminded me of the way I felt whenever I was with your family as a kid.”

  Jess smiled, fiddling with the lid of her c
arbonara. “Those were good times.”

  “The best.” Bella shoved aside her half-eaten pasta. “For a moment, I thought maybe it was enough, you know? That I could be happy with pretending. But I realize that it’s unlikely I’ll find my dad’s relatives, and that means I’ll never belong to a real family. It’ll always just be my mother and me—both of us alone and emotionally distant. What a life.”

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you this melodramatic before.” Jessica walked to the window and threw back the curtains. “You need to get out of this dark apartment. To remember that you’re not alone. Not really.”

  The building next door blocked Bella’s view from the fourth floor, a far cry from the beachfront vista courtesy of her little room at Ben’s inn.

  Her eyelids had turned gummy. But no. She didn’t have a right to cry over this. She’d made her bed.

  Striding to the window, Bella firmly closed the curtains again then flounced back to the freezer for her ice cream. “I’m not melodramatic. Just realistic.” She leaned a hip against the counter and stuck a spoonful of frozen brownie and cookie dough into her mouth.

  “Oh, we’re back to lying to ourselves, are we?” Jess joined her in the kitchen, took a spoon from the silverware drawer, and dug into the carton in Bella’s hand. “I hate seeing you like this. And I’m sorry about your dad’s family and the way everything went down with Ben. But Bells”—she licked her spoon clean—“they’re not your only chance at a real family. You know that I consider you a sister, right? My mom calls you her second daughter. You’re my family.”

  Bella’s lips trembled and not just from the cold spoon pressed against them. “I . . .”

  “Believe me, I wouldn’t hang out in just anyone’s stinky apartment.” Jess cracked a grin.

  “Hey.” She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in her chest. “Just because I haven’t showered in a few days doesn’t mean I stink.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree.” Jessica eased the spoon from Bella’s hand and stuck it in the sink along with her own. “But I’m serious. Family isn’t just about blood. It’s about the bond you share. It’s the people you choose to surround yourself with, to be there for. And I choose you.”