“But what about your responsibilities?”
Dan shrugged. “Doesn’t matter?”
“How can you say that?”
“Easily. Because it’s the truth. I love her.”
Dan said it as if the reason was obvious and the only one that mattered. He continued. “Laura left her job to come back here with me. If I had to give up everything for her, I would.”
“But what about your mother? I always thought she was the reason you came back?”
“She was. Once she got sick, I wanted to be close to her. But if Laura hadn’t been willing to move back to Bradleton, I wouldn’t have done it. We would’ve figured out an alternative. Maybe move Mom to wherever we lived. But Laura being with me was essential. There was nothing without her.”
“I wish it were that simple for me. I have generations of Bradleys staring down on me.”
The pressure of being in his family and fulfilling the familial legacy was overwhelming.
“I couldn’t possibly understand your situation, and it’s easy for me to say choose your happiness, but can’t you have both?”
Wyatt thought of his family and what they wanted him to do. And then he thought of Caila and what he’d learned about her upbringing and her career. She’d already had to give up so much that was important to her. He couldn’t ask her to do it again.
And maybe a part of him was scared that if he did, she wouldn’t choose him.
Like his father.
“No.”
Dan sighed. “Then you have a decision to make, my friend. And I don’t envy you one bit.”
Chapter Eighteen
Seven hundred feet. The end of the block and you’re done.
Caila shifted into another gear and pushed herself until she’d reached the fire hydrant she’d set as her goalpost. Slowing to a stop, she jammed her hands on her hips and attempted to haul in as much fresh air as possible to relieve her burning lungs.
It hadn’t been a question of if she’d run this morning. More like how many miles she’d go.
Between the call from Kendra, dinner with Wyatt’s family, and his dropping her off afterward, she’d been left feeling unsettled and full of uncertainty. Something she didn’t like.
Kendra apparently wanted her to devise a report out of thin air. Not that creating it would be difficult; she’d done so many starting out, she could write them in her sleep. But they tended to be more effective when she had access to the proper information.
Add to that the ever-growing, inconvenient thought that she might be able to salvage the situation for Endurance without recommending the closure of Chro-Make, and the possibility of losing her job should be causing her to hyperventilate more than this run. And yet the problem currently tasking the majority of her mental energy was Wyatt . . .
They’d spent every night since the color run together, though she always made sure to get back to the B&B before morning. Last night, not seeing him or speaking to him after the confrontation with his family . . .
It hadn’t felt right.
Better get used to it.
Getting used to it wasn’t the issue. Whether she wanted to get used to it, that was the question.
When she was able to breathe without wincing, she continued walking another block, before turning the corner and quickly covering the distance to the B&B. She hustled up the steps, pausing when she saw the person waiting on the porch.
“Hey, Jada. How are you?”
Jada rose from the porch swing. “Hi, Caila. I’m good. Did you enjoy your run?”
Caila laughed. “The first mile? No. Thankfully, it got better after that. What’s up? Did you stop by to talk?”
“No.” Jada blushed. “I’m waiting for Kevin.”
“Oh.” Caila hadn’t been expecting that.
“We’re going over to the park to hang out.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Uh-huh.” Jada shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “I sent an email to your friend Judge Taylor, asking her about being a lawyer.”
“Oh, good. Did she respond?”
“She did! She’s sending me some information to read and a list of documentaries to check out.”
Caila’s heart warmed at the time and effort Ava had made for the teen. She really did have extraordinary friends.
“That’s wonderful. I hope it helps.”
The screen door flew open and Kevin emerged, a backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Oh, hey, Caila. I just left you a note. My mom had to run out, but she wanted me to tell you she left you something delicious on the counter.”
Gone was the awkward, flushed-face boy who usually interacted with her.
“Thanks, Kevin,” she said. “You two have fun.”
Kevin gave Caila a friendly smile, but his eyes brightened when they landed on Jada.
“No problem,” Kevin tossed over his shoulder as they trotted down the steps.
“We will!” Jada waved, and the two headed in the direction of downtown.
She was going to miss them, especially Jada. The teen had impressed her; she was smart, focused, and driven. Caila was going to make sure they stayed in touch. Smiling, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Ava, thanking her for responding to Jada, as she went into the house. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and snatched a slice of warm chocolate chip pumpkin bread from the plate Gwen had left on the counter. She was heading to her room to stretch and cool down before her shower when the doorbell rang.
Answering it, she found Wyatt standing there, backlit by the mid-morning sun. He wore jeans, a white T-shirt, and a blue V-neck sweater that made his hazel eyes pop.
Would there ever be a time that the sight of him wouldn’t birth a corresponding ache for him?
“Hey,” she said softly.
“May I come in?”
She held open the door. He entered the house, and she closed the door behind him.
“I saw Kevin heading downtown. Is Gwen here?”
“No. She was gone when I got back.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before he was pulling her close.
She tried to hold him off. “I just came from a run. I’m all sweaty.”
“I’ve kissed every inch of your body. I think I can handle a little sweat.”
Well, when he put it that way . . .
She relented and relaxed into his embrace, sighing when he wrapped his arms around her. She loved his hugs. They made her feel cherished, protected, cared for.
Like she could take on the world by herself but she didn’t have to.
She led him into the kitchen and he stood, leaning his hip against the counter.
“You hungry? Gwen’s been baking again. I was just getting ready to have some when you arrived.”
He waved off her offer of food. “I wanted to apologize again for my family. That dinner was . . . fucking nuts.”
“You weren’t kidding when you said your family takes the legacy stuff seriously.”
“I wish I was.” He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.
She didn’t want to discuss his family or the implications of their assumptions that led to the assault.
“Where’d you go last night?” she asked, taking a drink of water.
“I went over to Dan’s. I needed to think. To talk some things through.”
With him. Not with her.
What do you expect? Dan’s his best friend and you’re leaving on Monday.
She covered up her irrational hurt. “Did it help?”
“It did. And I have some news I think you’ll like.”
“Really? Will Dan stop glaring at me when we cross paths?”
He stiffened and leaned forward. “Has he said something to you?”
“Settle down, Edward Cullen. Don’t go into protector mode. I was making a joke.” A bad one, apparently. “What news?”
“Joe Keslar will be back on Sunday.”
She gasped and her hand fl
ew to her mouth. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. And he’s prepared to be available to you at Chro-Make all day, if necessary.”
Euphoria bubbled within her. “How? Why?”
“Let’s just say I wanted to be the third man you could count on.”
Tenderness overwhelmed her at the realization that he’d remembered what she’d said about Daddy and Pop-Pop. Her heart raced into overdrive. “If I wasn’t so sweaty, I’d jump you right now.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a wicked grin. “I thought we’d already dealt with the sweat issue.”
“You’re right.” She cupped his cheeks and laid a big openmouthed kiss on him, darting her tongue inside to briefly duel with his, before retreating. “Thank you.”
His lids dropped low and a flush stained his cheeks. “If I have more good news, can I get another one of those?”
What else could he tell her that would be better than his news about Joe Keslar? “Maybe.”
He snagged a tendril of her hair and twirled it around his index finger. “I also made a few phone calls, and if you’re free right now, there are several people waiting to talk to you over at the plant.”
Her eyes widened. Talking to some of the workers would be extremely helpful. Especially for some of the options she’d been working through. She knew what Endurance wanted her report to contain, but if she could provide viable alternatives to the board, maybe she could get her promotion and save Chro-Make and Bradleton. “Of course I’m free. I just need to grab a shower.”
She hurried out of the kitchen.
He followed her. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Stopping with her hand on the doorknob, she turned, tilted her head, and eyed him skeptically. “I thought I needed to hurry.”
“There’s always time for a kiss.”
Sandwiched between the door at her back and his warm, hard body at her front, she surrendered to the deep, wet, slow exploration of his tongue. Her belly dipped and twisted in a viable approximation of an amusement park ride, and she clutched his broad shoulders in an attempt at equilibrium.
It wasn’t to be. He slid his hard, jean-clad thigh between her legs, pressing upward until she was practically riding him, the friction against her clit creating a seductive lethargy that enveloped her limbs. He was easily the best kisser she’d ever known. Hell, he was the best lover she’d ever had. And if she didn’t do something, Gwen would find them fucking on her hallway floor.
She pushed against his chest, and when they broke apart, they were both glassy-eyed and breathing heavily. He straightened his leg and she shivered at the withdrawal.
“Damn, Caila.” His voice was low, his accent pronounced in that luscious way she liked. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Will you be my date to the Harvest Ball?”
She gazed into his eyes. “That’s supposed to be a big night for your family.”
“I know. And I want you there.”
She shouldn’t. She would meet with workers today and Joe on Sunday; there was no professional benefit to attending the ball. But her time with Wyatt was drawing to a close and selfishly, she wasn’t ready to let go. Her answering smile contained a touch of sadness. “Okay. It’ll be a nice bookend to my time here.”
Furrows materialized on his forehead. “What?”
“My boss called. I have to be back in Chicago on Tuesday.”
“That’s four days from now!”
She lowered her lashes. “I know.”
“Fuck!” He shoved away from the door and raked a hand through his hair. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I found out before dinner with your family. I would’ve told you last night, but . . .” She shrugged.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “What’s the hurry? Why can’t they wait a few more days?”
She sympathized with his anger, and maybe her own, mixed with an underlying guilt, was why she confided further in him. “Remember when I told you I let Pop-Pop’s passing affect my performance at work?”
His expression softened and he nodded.
“I’m not responsible for evaluations anymore, but Endurance sent me here to do this one as a last-ditch effort not only to prove that I should keep my job, but to show I’m worthy of an upcoming promotion. The board moved their meeting up to next week and my boss wants the report before then.” She grasped his hand between hers, willing him to understand, hoping he’d recall this moment when he found out what she’d done. “My job is all I have left. I’ve poured my heart and soul into that company for ten years and I’m so close to fulfilling the dreams my dad and I had talked about all those years ago.”
“What would you have done if I hadn’t given you the news?”
“I’d planned to tell you that we’d have to revisit the issue of calling Joe and interrupting his vacation.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that now. I took care of it.”
Is that what he thought? That he was saving her?
Her smile slid from her face and she dropped his hand. “I don’t need you to take care of anything. You’re just getting me the information I should’ve already had.”
“That’s not what I—” He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“No, no, I’m sorry.” She rested her forehead on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just . . . I haven’t had the best track record depending on men to help me. But I am grateful for this.”
His arms came around her. “Like you said, you should’ve already had this information.”
The mood had changed so often in the past few minutes it had given her emotional whiplash. She remained in his embrace for a few moments longer, before moving away and scrubbing her hands on the sides of her thighs. “I’m going to shower and change. I don’t want to keep the people waiting any longer than necessary.”
“Do you need any help scrubbing your back?”
She laughed, appreciating his attempt to lighten the tension between them. “Gwen could be back at any minute. Just because I’m her only guest doesn’t mean we should act like this is my house. Why don’t you wait in the parlor? I’ll be quick.”
When she closed the door on his overly dramatic, disappointed expression, her excitement at this new development quickly morphed into anguish.
His plan had involved showing her all that Bradleton had to offer, in the hopes that it would filter into her recommendation. And yet, because of her own issues, he’d put that aside and was doing everything he could to help her.
He’d actually come through for her.
And if it doesn’t work out, he’s going to hate your fucking guts.
The Harvest Ball was held in a beautiful lodge at the edge of town. String lights hung from every available fixture, imbuing the ballroom with a warm intimate glow. Strands of gold, orange, and maroon leaves wound around wooden columns and beams, emphasizing the autumn theme. At one end of the large space, a band was set up on a stage, playing an assortment of music that kept the dance floor packed.
“Pretty nice, huh?” Laura asked, taking a sip of her pomegranate rum punch.
Caila grinned sheepishly. “It is.”
She and Laura stood near the bar, on the side of the room where the tables and chairs had been arranged. Fall-themed tablecloths added variety and color, as did the centerpieces, comprised of pumpkin vases filled with sunflowers, orange roses, autumn mums, and apples.
“Let me guess, you thought there’d be bales of hay, scarecrows, and barrels stocked with apples?”
“Something like that. But if you share that with anyone, Laura Yates, I will vehemently deny it!”
Laura laughed and squeezed her arm. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Caila had enjoyed her brief conversations with the other woman. In a different situation, she would’ve enjoyed continuing their acquaintance to see if it could develop into a friendship. In this instance, she didn’t see that happening, and it
saddened her more than she’d expected.
She felt that way about many of the people she’d met during her time in Bradleton. Gwen, Jada, Kevin, Laura, Shirley at Turk’s; she was going to miss them all. And her stomach churned at the thought of them hating her once the news of Endurance withdrawing their contract broke.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you, I love your dress.” Laura flicked the flared skirt of Caila’s golden yellow dress, with its fitted floral embroidered bodice and long sheer sleeves. “And that color looks gorgeous against your skin. I know you didn’t buy that here.”
“Thank you. It’s something I started doing years ago. I always pack one cocktail dress when I travel.”
Laura’s brows furrowed. “Everywhere?”
“Everywhere. It’s habit now. When I first started traveling for work, I’d only pack work clothes. Inevitably, I’d get invited to a function that required something nicer than business suits. I’d go shopping, buy a dress, and take it home. A couple of trips later, it would happen again and the cycle would repeat. It took four years and a closet full of cocktail and formal dresses for me to just start packing one each time I traveled, whether I knew I’d need it or not.”
“I don’t miss much about working in politics, or my life back in D.C., but I do miss the galas and dressing up,” Laura said, her tone wistful. “Not much cause for that here, so when I do get the chance to dress up, I go all out.”
Laura twirled, showing off the short, multicolored sequined dress with kimono sleeves that looked fabulous with her blond hair.
“And it was worth it,” Caila told her. “That dress is fierce and you look amazing in it.”
“Thanks. You know who else thinks you look beautiful tonight?”
“Who?”
“Wyatt.” Laura inclined her head over to where Wyatt stood with a group of other men, including Dan and the drunk bro-dude from the diner. “What are the two of you going to do?”
“About what?”
Laura pursed her lips. “Are you going to continue seeing each other after you leave?”
Caila’s pulse jump-started but she forced herself to remain calm.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, carefully.
Sweet Talkin' Lover EPB Page 23