I could end this feud, once and for all. That could be my atonement for Mr. Clarke’s death. Maybe, if I can find peace with the Clarke brothers, I can finally let go of this dark cloud that’s followed me for ten years.
Aiden is married now, so maybe he’ll be ready to forgive me for falling in the river that day. Even if he isn’t, I can do my best to distance myself from my parents’ reputation.
By the time I make it back to flat ground, and the McCoy Hotel looms up in front of me, my whole demeanor has changed. The corners of my lips are tugging upwards and there’s a bounce in my step. I glance over my shoulder and look at the small peak that I just climbed.
I smile for real as I look over the scenery around me. The familiar feeling of awe and reverence fills me, and I whisper a quiet thank you to the mountains. It’s not until I slide open the back door that the smile fades. Even through the closed bedroom door, my mother’s voice screeches down the hallway. I poke my head out into the hallway and she calls me over.
“Mara! There you are! Come talk some sense into your father!”
I walk slowly toward them, finally rounding the corner to see them on opposite sides of the front desk. My father nods at me. He’s a big man, with a round belly hanging down in front of him. His big paws are resting on the counter in front of him and his grey whiskers are trembling as he looks at my mother.
“I was just telling your father that we need to make some sort of change around here.”
“We don’t have the money, Margaret,” my father growls.
My mother huffs. “Tim, please. We got four hundred thousand dollars in the insurance settlement. That should be going toward improving this place or expanding it! Our business is stagnating!”
I watch the two of them face off, flicking my eyes from one to the other. They almost look like strangers to me. My father’s hair is grayer than it was before, and I see the wrinkles in my mother’s face when she frowns at him. It’s like someone’s wiped the sheen off them, and now I can see their true selves. They’re still my parents, but they’re not the decent, hardworking entrepreneurs I thought they were.
My mother turns toward me and lifts her hand toward my father. “Will you tell him? Will you tell him that we need to do something?”
“We can’t just go spending the entire insurance money on this place! We should be investing it in the trucking business. That’s where the money is!”
My mother makes a noise, and my father stops talking. The two of them turn to look at me, and suddenly it’s like I’m the one who’s supposed to come up with the answers. I clear my throat and glance from one to the other.
“Well,” I answer, choosing my words cautiously. “The hotel is a bit… dated. It could do with some freshening up.”
My mother makes a satisfied noise and my father huffs. I hold up my hands.
“It doesn’t have to be anything extreme. Didn’t the state government expand their budget for National Parks this year? Maybe we can get listed as approved accommodation with the Park?”
“We’ve tried that,” my father says, shaking his head. “There are all kinds of requirements that we don’t meet. We need to have the hotel represent ‘local culture and heritage’, whatever that means.”
I try to contain the smile that’s drifting over my face. “I could put this expensive Interior Design degree to good use. I worked on a heritage hotel in California, remember? I’m sure the New York requirements will be similar.”
Both of them look at me, eyebrows raised. My mother opens her mouth and closes it back up. She blows air out of her nose and shrugs her shoulders as she looks at my father. They exchange a look and then turn back toward me.
“What is it?” I ask. “You don’t think I’m good enough to work on this place?”
“No! Of course not, darling,” my mother croons. “It’s just…”
“That’s a good idea, Mara,” my father says. He doesn’t even try to hide the surprise in his voice. I ignore the flash of annoyance inside me. I’ve always known my parents thought I was vapid and thoughtless. These things don’t surprise me anymore.
The two of them exchange a glance, and finally my father nods. “Alright. We’ll put a hundred grand into it.”
A grin spreads over my face and I dip my chin down. “I can work with that.” I brush past them before they can change their minds. “I’m going to Harold’s. I’ll be back later. We can go over the details tomorrow.”
I don’t catch my mother’s words as the hotel door slams behind me. Laughter bubbles up through me, and I glance back at the old hotel. This is either the best idea I’ve ever had – or the absolute worst.
7
Dominic
I finish sanding the last of the chairs and stand it up next to the table. All I need to do now is stain and finish them, and then I’ll be done with my last job for the foreseeable future.
I almost regret telling Ethan that I’d see him at Harold’s. As I look at the table and chairs, I take a deep breath and shake my head. Maybe it’ll be good to get out of this workshop. I can have a beer with my brother. I can always leave if I don’t want to be there.
After a quick shower, I pull on my jeans and a flannel shirt. I comb my hair with my fingers and pull on a thin jacket before jumping into my truck. It bounces down the gravel road until I turn down Main Street toward the other end of town.
The lights are on at Harold’s Pub, and there are cars lined up down the block. People come here from miles around on Friday nights – and that’s why I usually avoid it.
Tonight, though, the distraction will be welcome. Maybe, if there are enough people and the noise is loud enough, it’ll drown out all the thoughts running through my mind.
I pull the truck up past the pub and hop out, kicking the door closed behind me. The air is cold, and my damp hair starts to feel frosty against my head. I blow out the air from my lungs and turn toward the pub. I’m so focused on getting inside that I don’t see Mara McCoy until we’re almost crashing into each other as we both reach for the door.
“Sorry!” she says, glancing up at me.
“S’okay,” I grunt. She’s right beside me, and the faint floral smell of her perfume fills my nose. Her eyes are bright blue and her nose is sprinkled with freckles. She smiles at me shyly.
“Hey,” she says. It comes out as a breathy whisper, and her eyes drop down.
“Hey,” I respond. My throat feels tight, and I’m not sure why. She reaches up to tuck a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear before glancing up at me.
“You going to Harold’s?” she asks, nodding toward the door. Her cheeks start flushing and she lets out a laugh. “Stupid question. Sorry. I just… I didn’t know you came here.”
“I don’t,” I grunt. “Usually.”
She nods once, and I reach toward the door. The noise inside the pub sounds too loud already, but I watch Mara walk in and I follow her anyway. The two of us stand at the bar, and I steal a glance toward her. It’s been a few years since I saw her, and I forgot how pretty she is. Did she change her hair? Maybe I just always remembered her as the 14 year-old girl that was dating my brother.
She’s so... I don’t know… Womanly?
She smiles at Harold behind the bar and leans over to order herself a drink. She nods toward me and Harold nods back. Before I know it, a beer appears in front of me and Mara touches her glass to mine.
“I come in peace,” she says with a grin. I can’t help smiling back at her and nodding my chin as I take a sip.
“Welcome back,” I respond. “Next one’s on me.”
Her face breaks into a smile and white heat runs down my spine to the pit of my stomach.
“I’ll hold you to that, Dominic Clarke.”
The way she says my name sends another thrill through my stomach. She grins again and slips away toward a group of girls before I can answer. I watch her walk away until she’s with the other girls, hugging them and laughing. Two of them – the Wilson sisters – look
over at me and say something to her. I turn my back on the group and bury my face in my beer before Mara glances up at me.
I can imagine what they’re saying. They’re probably talking about how unusual it is to see me here. How business must be especially bad if I’m in for a drink. Maybe they’re talking about the fire… Again. A year later, and it seems to still be the best topic of conversation whenever I’m around.
I sigh and slide onto a bar stool. It groans under my weight and I shake my head. I wonder if any furniture is made for someone my size. Everywhere I go, I tower over everyone. I’ve gotten very well acquainted with the tops of people’s heads. I hardly fit through doorways, and I’m constantly afraid of breaking chairs.
Maybe that’s why I became a furniture maker, I think as I take another sip. It had nothing to do with my father – I just wanted things I could sit on without fear of collapse.
A smile is forming on my lips – right up until my brother claps me on the back. My beer sloshes in the glass and Ethan laughs.
“You made it! When you said you were coming down, I didn’t quite believe you.”
I grunt in response and take another drink. Ethan waves Harold down and starts chatting to him. They talk about the weather, about the Park – about things I wouldn’t even notice. Sometimes I wonder how Ethan and I are related. Harold walks away and Ethan turns toward me, leaning casually against the bar. His eyes sweep across the small bar and he grins.
“Mara McCoy is here,” he says, nodding his head toward the group of girls.
“I know,” I say, staring at the beer she bought me. “I saw her when I walked in.”
“She looks good,” he says.
“Does she?” I ask, taking another sip of beer. I put the glass down and turn toward her. She glances up at me and the corner of her lip lifts up. My heart jumps in my chest and my cock suddenly feels heavy. Her eyes flick back to one of the Wilson sisters and I turn back to my beer.
Ethan finds someone else to talk to and I sit on my own until my beer is empty and Harold puts a fresh one in front of me. I’m staring at the golden liquid, trying to decide if the noise and people are worth the distraction, when I feel a delicate hand on my arm.
I jump, looking up to see Mara staring at me with those piercing blue eyes of hers. Her pink lips curl into a smile, and I can’t help licking my lips. Her eyes flick down and my cock twitches between my legs again.
That beer has gone straight to my head.
She slides onto the bar stool beside me and leans her head on her fist. She smiles at me again.
“So,” she says. “Dominic Clarke.”
There she goes, saying my name like that again. I look at her, waiting for her to continue. Harold puts a beer in front of her but she ignores it, keeping her eyes glued on me instead.
“It’s good to see you,” she says. Her words surprise me, so I lift my beer to my lips and take a drink, nodding as I put it back down.
“It is?”
“It is,” she says. Her voice is soft, and I have to strain my ears to hear her over the din in the pub. I flick my eyes over to her and nod, surprised to see how sincere she looks. She takes a deep breath and sighs before standing up again.
I’m still scrambling for something to say when she grabs her beer. She puts her hand on my arm again and gives it a light squeeze before slipping away. I look up at the taps of beer in front of me, feeling the emptiness where she was a moment ago. My arm is burning where her fingers were, and the smell of her perfume is still lingering around me. I force myself to keep my face forward, even though every part of me is screaming to turn around.
My heart is thumping and my whole body is tense. It’s not until Ethan appears beside me and puts his hand on my shoulder that I start to relax again. He squeezes my shoulder and laughs.
“What was all that about?”
“All what?” I ask, glancing at him.
“You and Mara,” he says. I can hear the grin in his voice as I turn back to my beer. “You fraternizing with the enemy?”
“She’s not the enemy,” I snap. Ethan throws his hands up and laughs. I drain the rest of my beer and stand up, brushing my jacket down. I nod to my brother. “See you later.”
“Later,” he says. There’s still a grin in his voice and his eyes are sparkling with mischief. It annoys me, but I don’t know why – and I don’t know how to respond. All I do is spin around and walk straight out the door. When the cool air fills my lungs and the sounds of the pub are muted behind the door, I can finally breathe easy again. I glance behind me, still feeling the heat of Mara’s gaze.
I shake my head and stalk toward my truck. I shouldn’t have come out tonight. I don’t understand people, and I usually don’t like them. I have no idea what that was about. The last thing I want to do is start people talking about the Clarkes and the McCoys all over again.
I just want to be left alone.
8
Mara
When Dominic leaves the bar, I suddenly don’t feel like being there anymore. Tanya Wilson is telling me about her new boyfriend, and I try to fight the feeling that I couldn’t care less.
I almost feel the door closing as Dominic walks out, and I glance over at the seat where he sat only a couple seconds ago. My heart is still thumping and my mouth has gone dry. There’s an undercurrent of electricity coursing through me from head to toe. As I take a deep breath, I can hardly focus on anything but the delicious thrills buzzing through my body.
When we ran into each other outside, I could hardly think straight. His body is so muscular, it took all my self-control to keep my eyes on his face. When I went to the bar to get another drink, my hands were itching to touch him.
His eyes are a deep brown color, and he was looking at me almost suspiciously. I glance around the bar, wondering how long I’ll last in here tonight. The band is playing and people are dancing, but suddenly I just feel like leaving.
I force myself to stay for another drink, and finally say my goodbyes.
“Just tired, long day today,” I say when Tanya asks me why I’m going. She nods in understanding and gives me a hug. I extract myself from the group and finally make it out the door, turning down the road toward my parents’ hotel.
I walk slowly, taking deep breaths as I stroll down the street. The old-style streetlamps light the way, and I walk by all the familiar shops and houses that I grew up with.
This place has hardly changed, but it feels different. Maybe I’m the one that’s changed. Maybe I’m the one that’s seeing it through different eyes. I feel like the new hotel burning down and my breakup with Vincent has made me a different person.
The McCoy Hotel is standing proud on the corner in front of me, and I look at the old timber building. I tilt my head to the side as I think about what my parents agreed to.
If they follow through with it, I’ll be in charge of renovating this place and getting it approved as a National Park sponsored accommodation. I stop on the corner and inspect the building, welcoming the ideas that start flooding my head. I walk up the flagstone path to the front door and smile as I look at the wide porch. When I swing the front door open, I can picture a fresh, updated design for the lobby.
I walk back to my room without seeing anyone and look around at the standard hotel furnishings that I grew up with. These will all have to be updated as well. I’ll have to put together samples and proposals for the application. I put my hands on my hips and smile as my eyes dart around the room.
Get rid of that wallpaper. Replace the blinds. Fresh, cream-colored walls and hardwood furnishings.
I grab a pad of paper and start sketching my ideas, staying up until my eyelids are heavy. Finally, I put the pad of paper on the nightstand and collapse into bed, kicking off my clothes and snuggling under the thick duvet. As I fall asleep, I imagine Dominic Clarke’s wide, muscular body. The same current of electricity passes through me until I drift off into a dreamless sleep.
I sleep better than I have in weeks. My wh
ole body feels lighter than it did before. I wake up with a smile on my lips as the sun streams through the window. I roll over onto my side and look at the mountain peaks through my window.
I’m up and out of bed in minutes. I get ready and grab a quick breakfast before heading out on foot. It’s a short walk to the edge of town, where I turn down a worn gravel road. My feet crunch on the gravel with every step as I make my way toward Dominic Clarke’s workshop.
The doubt starts creeping into my mind as I get nearer to him.
Will he be awake? Should I have called?
I clutch the pad of paper with my sketches to my chest until the little cabin and the huge workshop come into view. My heart starts beating a bit faster when I see the door to the workshop open. I can’t hear any tools, and the big garage door is closed, but I can see some lights on inside.
All of a sudden, my heart is bouncing against my ribcage and doubt starts creeping into my heart. What am I doing here? He didn’t seem to want to talk to me last night… What makes me think he’d want to see me now? Even though I have no hard feelings against his family, what guarantee do I have that he feels the same way?
I’ve changed, sure. But everyone else? Everyone else seems to have stayed the same.
I take a deep breath and keep my eyes glued on the open door. It’s too late to turn back now. I’ve already promised my parents a design by the end of the week. I know from experience that the best way to get these projects approved by the Parks is to use local craftsmen.
It’s the only way this will work – both for the project, and for me. How else will I make it up to the Clarkes and show my parents that I’m not like them?
By the time I’m a couple steps away from the door, my heart is thumping. My mouth is dry, and a bead of sweat rolls down my spine. My cheeks are flushed and I’m clutching the pad of papers with a vice-like grip. I get to the doorway and take a deep breath before stepping through.
The Clarke Brothers (Complete Series) Page 19
