Curse Tom Forbes and his blog. Did he have any idea of the damage he caused? She wanted to grab him by his tacky tropical print shirt and choke him until he apologized. Not that an apology would make any difference. Alex was gone. At the first sign of his precious privacy being invaded, he’d retreated into his woods. Into himself. Away from her.
Vision blurring, she blinked to keep the tears at bay. You’d think she’d be used to rejection by this point in her life.
That’s what you get for growing complacent. Rolling to her side, she drew her knees to her chest. She should have stuck to her rules. Don’t get involved. Don’t form connections. But no, she had to let her guard down. Let herself fall for a man with stormy eyes and walls around his heart as thick as Jericho.
Fool. Thinking she was worth Alex dropping his defenses. Like the man said, she was a mistake.
She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking the tears. If only life came with do-overs. If it did, she’d push reset and never step foot on Alex Markoff’s doorstep. Sadly, however, life didn’t, and once again, she wasn’t wanted.
When she opened her eyes again, morning was streaming through the windows. Still half-asleep she sniffed for the familiar smell of coffee, her insides dropping when she didn’t find it. The great room was empty. A quick check of the kitchen and office revealed they were too. An empty glass in the sink told her Alex had come and gone. Still avoiding. Still retreating.
Well, no sense waiting for the inevitable. If Alex didn’t want her around, she wasn’t going to stay. Not where she wasn’t wanted. Not anymore. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she headed upstairs to her room to pack.
Like moving in, moving out also came with a ritual. First the clothes from the closet were folded and sorted. When she got to the pink cocktail dress, she clutched the garment to her cheek. A faint trace of Alex’s aftershave clung to the silk. Holding it close was like holding him. She inhaled deeply and wished she could hold on to the scent forever.
But nothing stayed forever.
Bureau contents came next. Underwear, T-shirts. The blue running shorts she wore their afternoon in the woods. She ran a hand across the cloth. She’d never felt more at home, more like she belonged than when she sat on those rocks with Alex.
“No crying,” she told herself, swiping another errant tear. Tears were not part of the ritual. It was a rule. You left a place with your head held high, not looking back.
Lastly came the personal belongings. Gently she picked up her ceramic mug, cracked and crooked, never to hold liquid again.
Good thing I had glue.
Yes. A very good thing.
How could she ever look at the cup again without thinking of Alex? Her vision blurred. That was the problem with the rules. They didn’t apply when your heart was being ripped from your body. A sob rose in her chest, choking off her breath. She tried to fight its release, but couldn’t. Gasping for air, she finally let the tears break free. They ran down her cheeks in hot streaks.
Why couldn’t Alex want her?
CHAPTER TEN
IT took a while but eventually Kelsey regained her composure. Placing the last of her belongings in her satchel, she took one last look at the room she’d come to call home. Outside the open window, a breeze rustled the trees. She thought of the owl and said a mental goodbye. The bird would be forever linked in her mind with the image of Alex’s smile. Both had looked so breathtaking that night.
Like so many other things, that night was part of the past now. She was moving on, like she’d done so many times before in her life, and as she swore a long time ago, under her own terms. Eventually the ache in her chest would fade. She’d grown attached to places before and recovered.
Except this time it wasn’t just a place, and she was far more than attached to Alex. She was in love.
She left her mother’s coffee mug behind. In its new form, it reminded her too much of Alex. Looking at it no longer gave her comfort. Better to leave the cup behind and make a clean break.
“Goodbye,” she whispered, tracing the faded flowers one last time. Her summer at Nuttingwood was over.
Wonder how long it would take for Alex to notice she was gone?
Turned out Alex learned her plans immediately. He was walking up the stairs when she opened the door. Dust and sweat streaked his clothes, and there were mosquito bites dotting his skin. He moved with slow, deliberate movements, clearly trying to keep his head still. It didn’t take a genius to recognize what was going on. “Headache?” she asked.
He looked up, the pale skin and dark circles providing her answer. “Nothing I’m not used to.”
Except he hadn’t had one in weeks. Not since that one afternoon. “Did you take your medicine?”
He shook his head. “I was on the rocks all night.”
Avoiding her. Part of her, the angry, hurt part, decided he deserved his misery. Unfortunately, the other part of her, the bigger part, couldn’t leave him when he was in pain.
Setting down her suitcases, she took his elbow. Despite the circumstances, heat rose up her arm. “Come on, let’s get you lying down, and I’ll get your pills.”
His eyes dropped to her suitcases as they headed to his room. “You’re leaving.”
“If I’m not around, Tom can’t blog about our so-called relationship, can he?”
“No, I suppose he can’t.”
“That way you can get your privacy back.”
“Yes, I suppose I can.”
She led him to his room and to the side of his king-size bed. His bed was still unmade from the other morning. He’d kissed her in this doorway. She bit her lip before the memory made her sigh. Instead she focused on the business at hand and said, “Pills are still in the medicine cabinet, I assume.”
Alex had slid beneath the covers when she returned. Seeing him lying against the sheets, his skin pale, his breathing ragged, Kelsey’s heart ached. Even miserable, he was still the most breathtaking man she’d ever seen. Don’t let me go, Kelsey wanted to plead. Ask me to stay.
She held out the pills and a glass of water. “You should have something to eat. You’ll keep your medicine down better.”
“I’ll be fine. I just need to rest. What are you going to tell Stuart? About leaving?”
“I’ll call him from the road and explain. He saw the blog. I’m sure he’ll get it. He’ll send another secretary.”
“At four times the pay instead of three,” Alex slurred. Suddenly his sleepy eyes widened. “Your debt. You were counting on the money.”
“I’ll figure something out. I’m very good at adapting.”
“Still, it’s not fair that you should suffer.” His eyes grew heavy again. The medicine and his exhaustion were too strong to fight.
Kelsey’s fingers itched to touch his cheek.
“Like I said, I’ll figure something out.”
“I could pay it off for you.”
Charity. Kelsey bit the inside of her mouth. She wanted his heart; he offered charity. Story of her life. “No, I don’t want your money.”
“But—”
“You’re not responsible for my problems, Alex.”
“Aren’t I?”
No. He couldn’t help not wanting her. “You’re exhausted, Alex. Stop fighting and go to sleep.”
“In a minute. What about Puddin’? What will you do with him?”
“He’s a survivor too,” she replied. “Put out a bowl of food in the morning and he’ll forget all about me.”
“You assume you’re easy to forget.”
Wasn’t she? Easy to forget, and easy to let go. “Go to sleep, Alex.”
“Kelsey, I don’t…” The sentence drifted off unfinished. Guess she’d never know what he was going to say.
Unable to help herself, she pressed one last kiss to his parted lips and headed to the door.
One thing about emotional goodbyes, they left you drained. Kelsey barely got to the bottom of the hill when her own head began aching. Not having had her coffee this morning
wasn’t helping. Along with feeling guilty that she left while Alex was sleeping.
She didn’t have a choice. He would be asleep for hours, she rationalized. If she stayed, she wouldn’t get to New York until late, and she still had to find a place to sleep. Or worse, she would have to postpone leaving until tomorrow.
That’s really why you left. You didn’t want to spend another night and relive the rejection again in the morning.
Would someone ever want her?
Her caffeine-deprivation too loud to ignore, she turned onto Main Street. She could stop at the Leafy Bean and grab a cup for the road, before leaving the town—and the stubborn, guarded man she’d fallen so disastrously in love with—far behind.
Farley was in between rushes and stocking shelves when she arrived. Spotting him by the canned fruit, she gave a quick wave before heading toward the coffee station, grateful he wouldn’t ask about her red-rimmed eyes. “How’s the hazelnut this morning?”
“Same as every morning,” he grumbled. “Popular. You tourists and your fancy coffee flavors. Hazelnut, French vanilla caramel nut. Italian roast. Every time I turn around I gotta brew more.”
It was his way of saying the coffee was fresh. “Is this the largest size cup you have?”
“Do you see anything larger?”
“Thanks.” Hollowed out with grief as she felt, Kelsey still smiled. The old man might be a cranky curmudgeon, short on patience, but he was an original. “I’m going to miss you, Farley.”
He looked up from the canned peaches he was stocking and gave her a curious look. For a split second, she swore it was gratitude and—dare she say—affection sparkling behind his glasses. “Can’t miss me unless you leave,” he replied in typical Farley fashion.
The doorbell sounded and a female voice called out, “Good morning, Farley.”
“What’s so good about it,” he snapped back before adding under his breath, “Stupid customers. How’s a man supposed to get any work done with everyone yapping away at me.”
Yup, definitely she would miss Farley. She turned back to the coffee station, thinking there was a lot about the town she’d miss. She’d felt comfortable here. Which was part of the problem, she reminded herself. She’d let herself grow attached to her location. Another connection. She’d really broken her rules left and right this summer, hadn’t she?
Sighing to herself, she added a healthy dollop of cream to her coffee. Farley believed in strong coffee, stronger than what Alex made. Alex made coffee exactly the way she liked.
Stop thinking about him. He was in the past now. He had to be. For self-preservation’s sake, she had to stop dwelling on memories. Before leaving, she would ask Farley to look in on Alex, and then she wouldn’t let his name cross her mind again.
Behind her, the new customers debated about groceries. Kelsey was reaching for a travel lid when suddenly a familiar female voice rang out across the store. “Tom, do you think two pounds of potato salad will be enough?”
Tom. Her hand stilled. The son-of-a… Anger replaced grief, welling up inside her like a summer storm.
“You!” She stormed toward the group of tourists, straight to the blond man in his tropical print shirt. Oh, it would be so easy to grab that flowered collar and twist. Or better yet, slap that smug-looking face. Especially when he smiled like nothing had ever happened.
“Hello, Kelsey. You saw the blog, I take it.”
“How could you?”
“How could I what? Report news?”
Like he was a reporter. He was nothing more than a sleazy bottom-feeder. “Alex and I are not news!”
“Then what are you?”
“We’re—”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Tom’s companions watching the exchange with interest. Behind her, Farley was no doubt doing the same. Whatever she said would clearly be gossip fodder for them all.
Well, to hell with them and their gossip. He’d already destroyed whatever it was she had with Alex. What did she care if they talked more? “We’re none of your business, that’s what we are.”
As expected, he waved off the remark. “Come on, of course you’re my business. Alex Markoff’s one of this century’s most influential writers. People are interested in his life.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to splash our private moments all over the Internet!”
“Hey, if you wanted privacy, you shouldn’t have made out in public for all the world to see.” He smirked. “Or maybe attention’s what you were looking for. After all, you did take those tickets.”
Thawp! Thirty-six hours of hurt and anger erupted in her palm connecting with his cheek. The force of the blow could be heard throughout the store. It left a bright red print on the side of Tom’s face. “Never come near me again,” she spat.
She left the store without another word. From the road, she’d call Farley to check on Alex. Right now she wanted as much distance between her and Tom Forbes as possible.
Her foot didn’t touch the brakes until the Bean, the town center and most of the buildings were gone from her rearview mirror. Five miles after that, the shakes began. Pulling over, she tried to calm herself by taking a deep breath. It didn’t work.
Her hand still stung from the contact. Way to make a bad situation worse, Kelsey. She’d just given Tom the perfect headline for tomorrow’s blog. Writer’s Gal Pal Goes Ballistic. She balled her hand into a fist.
And wished she’d thrown a punch instead.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NEW York City was noisy. In only a couple months Kelsey had forgotten exactly how noisy. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since she returned a week ago.
Who are you kidding? It’s not the noise keeping you awake. She missed Nuttingwood.
She missed Alex.
At least financially, she was close to solvency. Last night she wrote out her last loan payment. Grandma Rosie’s debt was gone. As she addressed the envelope, she realized she didn’t get the same pang in her chest she used to get when thinking of her grandmother. Guess she was finally letting go of the old woman.
Too bad she couldn’t let go of other things. A lump stuck in her throat. Two weeks and Alex was as lodged in her heart as strongly as ever. Curse him. The lump grew a little bigger. Why wouldn’t he get out of her head? Why did he have to go and lower her defenses in the first place, worming his way inside and making her dream stupid, unrealistic dreams?
Making her fall in love.
Worst of all, she had become stuck. With her debt paid, she should be focusing on where to restart her life. The future was a clean slate. She could do anything she wanted. Problem was, nothing felt right. Not any of the jobs her temp agency found her. Not with any of the apartments she looked at. For goodness’ sake, she was still in extended-stay lodging. She needed to make some decisions.
She needed to let Alex go.
Well, to start, she could mail Grandma Rosie’s check and cross that item off her to-do list. Grabbing the envelope and her sunglasses, she headed out.
The minute she stepped outside, the heat and noise wrapped around her like a loud oppressive blanket. The ache in her chest increased tenfold. Oh, to feel the soft Berkshire breezes again, and smell the sweet smell of trees.
Stop it! Stop dwelling on things you can’t have. Why couldn’t she let go?
“Excuse me.” A young woman wearing a plaid mini jumper and designer sunglasses approached her at the bottom of the front steps. “Kelsey Albertelli, right?”
The hair on the back of her neck prickling, Kelsey dodged the question. “Do you need something?”
“Is it true Alex Markoff stopped work on his book after you dumped him?”
“Excuse me?” The question caught her off guard. Enough that she foolishly stopped walking, giving the woman time for another question.
“His comeback novel. Is it true his publisher’s suing him?”
Suing? Dear Lord, no. That couldn’t be true, could it? “I—I—”
“Why don’t y
ou mind your own business.”
Her insides stilled hearing the baritone. It couldn’t be. The timbre was merely similar. They were talking about Alex so her mind conjured up his voice. That’s what it had to be, right?
The reporter meanwhile was smirking to land such an exclusive scoop. “Maybe you’d like to address the rumors yourself, Mr. Markoff.”
Kelsey turned to find a pair of storm-cloud-colored eyes. Her heart stilled. “Alex?” This had to be a dream.
Though if it was, then her dream was taking her wrist and pulling her away. “Print whatever you want,” he tossed over his shoulder. “We have no comment.”
Fortunately traffic, not to mention Alex’s expert car dodging, kept the reporter from following them across the street. He pulled her through the crowds of pedestrians and down a block before releasing her. “Sorry about that,” he said.
Not as sorry as she was that he’d let go of her hand. He was as handsome as ever. Instinctively, her body swayed toward him, seeking contact again.
“What are you doing here?” she heard herself ask.
He smiled that familiar sad smile that was but wasn’t. “You got time for a cup of coffee?”
They found seats in a nearby coffee house. Settling in by the window, Kelsey couldn’t but think if the reporter walked by, she’d have a perfect view. It was, perhaps, the only coherent thought permeating her brain, everything else drowned in a fog of disbelief. Alex. Here.
“Stuart put me in touch with your temp agency. They told me where to find you,” Alex explained, sliding into the seat next to her.
He tracked her down? Don’t get your hopes up, Kelsey. Just don’t. “So you talked to Stuart.”
“Oh, he and I have had several conversations. Some more colorful than others.”
She could imagine. The editor had been furious when she called to resign. “He still issuing threats?”
“Nothing I won’t work out.”
Beauty and the Brooding Boss Page 11
