“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t want anyone overhearing our private business and figuring out we’re married. Crystal’s is packed with locals.”
She glared.
Damn, he was right—even though his innocent look was anything but. How was she going to get through the evening without falling into bad habits? Without her weak body betraying her mind?
She steeled her shoulders like she was going into battle. “Oh, you’re good,” she drawled. “But don’t think you’ll be able to tempt me by taking a walk down memory lane. I said I’d buy you dinner, but I never promised you conversation. See you at seven.”
She ignored his arrogant grin and spun on her heel, marching away. He had her trapped. The sooner she got this dinner over with, the sooner she could continue ignoring him. She had to make sure she wore pants, and a thick sweater, and definitely thermal underwear. Maybe her tucked-in-the-back-of-the-drawer granny panties, too. Just in case he spiked her drink and she got all hot and tried to have sex with him. The thought of what lay underneath would be enough to sober her up.
Hours later, she was seated across from him at a small table, frantically questioning her sanity.
She’d forgotten how devastatingly handsome he was dressed up. He wore black pants; fancy, low-heeled black leather boots; a green button-down Robert Graham shirt with the cuffs turned up; and a sleek black leather jacket that gave him the perfect air of bad-boyness. He smelled of pine and spice. She’d barely been able to control herself in the car, fighting the impulse to lean close and take a whiff in the curve of his neck. He looked dashing and graceful—the darling of Hollywood.
Ophelia studied the menu and tried to keep an icy distance. Even the surroundings of Crystal’s were working against her. The sultry tones of Etta James spilled from the speakers. The tables were scattered around the room with enough distance to give off a romantic vibe. Endless candles flickered in the dim light amid fine crystal and classic china. The ornate chandelier rivaled Cinderella’s castle, accented by the warm touches of dark wood and burgundy.
She ordered a martini, and Kyle ordered a glass of pinot noir, his favorite red. He rarely drank more than two beverages in an evening, choosing to switch to seltzer after his two-drink maximum. Alcoholism ran in the family, easily passed on to the next generation, and he’d been ruthlessly determined to never fall into the trap like his father.
The thought of Patrick gave her a buzz of guilt.
Should she tell Kyle about the ambulance? Or would the information only cause him pain?
“I missed this,” he said, closing his menu with a smile. “When I left town, there was only Galveston’s and Lombardi’s if you wanted a fancy place to eat. When did this open?”
“Five years ago. The owner’s name is Albert. He lost his wife and opened this place up in her honor.”
His eyes flickered with sympathy. “Can’t imagine that type of loss. I’d like to meet him.”
“I’m sure he’ll want to meet you. You have many fans here.” They’d already been stopped twice on the way to their table, and Ophelia caught Maureen Garry craning her neck around, furiously whispering to her husband. Kyle had always been well liked in town, despite his father’s drinking problem. Now that he’d returned as a star, the town was buzzing. It reminded her of when Ethan came back, except he’d hidden himself away from the world for a while to heal. Kyle had an easygoing charm that made people feel comfortable approaching him.
“Only interested in one woman’s approval and adoration. Unfortunately, she doesn’t even want to talk to me.”
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “Women always fell over you wherever we went,” she pointed out. “It was exhausting. I’d overhear conversations in the ladies’ room about how hot you were and how they intended to replace me.”
He pinned her with his gaze. “I never really noticed. When you walked into a room, the world came alive. No one else meant anything to me.”
She shifted in her seat, trying to hide how much his words stirred her.
A frown creased his brow. “Is that why you ran away? Because you thought I was interested in other women? Did you think I was at those parties flirting and looking to replace you?”
She shook her head. “No, I trusted you completely.”
“Yet you fled without a goodbye. Or a warning. I came home a bit late one night, and you were gone.”
She stiffened and narrowed her gaze. “Funny how those same events played out differently in my recollection. But it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Yes, it matters,” he said strongly, leaning across the table. The candlelight turned his hair to white-blond and emphasized the intense glint in his eyes that screamed of a goal she only wanted to avoid. “I came back not only for a second chance, but to figure out what went so wrong. I need to know.”
“For us? Or for your script?”
He flinched.
Just as he opened his mouth to respond, he was interrupted by the waiter stopping by the table to recite the specials and take their order. By the time he glided away, she had taken a few sips of her martini, and the moment had passed.
He surveyed her moody silence and rubbed his head. “I’m screwing up again, aren’t I?”
She arched a brow.
“I wanted to remind you how much fun we have together, but I’m digging myself into a literal hole. And God, I just uttered a terrible cliché.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, if you’re buying dinner, I can at least dazzle you with conversation without pissing you off. I know—let’s play a game. Truth or dare?”
She tilted her head. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. We used to play when we got bored waiting in line for the buffet, remember? Go ahead, truth or dare?”
“This is ridiculous. We’re too old for such a game.”
“What are you scared of? I’ll go easy on you, I swear. Truth or dare?”
She let out a breath. “Fine. Truth. But I’m not answering if I don’t like the question.”
“You can’t pick and choose, or you lose.” He tapped his chin as if thinking hard. “What’s the worst thing you ever did to a guest you didn’t like?”
The memory caught her by surprise and made her laugh. “Well, I had this really cranky elderly woman who insulted me all weekend. She was just horrible. I tried everything, but I couldn’t please her. When she checked out, she said she intended to write a bad review, but I told her she’d been so unreasonable that I was going to write a bad review about her, and she’d never find another hotel or inn who’d take her.”
He blinked. “I don’t get it. Is there a site like that?”
She gave an evil grin. “No, I made the whole thing up. But she had no clue. She got all flustered, thinking I was going to put her name out there to be blacklisted from vacation spots, and she apologized! It was awesome.”
He laughed, slathering butter generously on his roll. “I never would’ve thought of that. Kind of brilliant. Much more creative than messing with their toothbrush or food.”
“I have standards, and messing with guests’ personal hygiene or diet is something I’d never do.”
“Good to know. I was getting worried about who was cleaning my bathroom.” He flashed her a mischievous smile, and she laughed. “Your turn.”
She grabbed a roll. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“What’s the craziest thing you’ve had to do to promote a movie?”
His adorable face crinkled up as he thought hard. “Hmm, I’d say the premiere for my third movie, Conspiracy. The marketing department came up with this crazy-ass plan to involve the audience in a fake conspiracy game, and they forced me to play a part. You know how nerve-racking those things are without additional responsibilities? Instead of worrying about the reaction to the movie, I was running around and interrogating a bunch of strangers, asking them if they had these little pieces of paper that said a code word on them. I had to find a f
ucking spy at my own damn premiere. Needless to say, it was a disaster. I never found the spy, the marketing department got pissed and blamed me for not being a team player, and the audience surveys said the movie sucked. Hell, at least the movie made a crapload of money and was still considered a success.”
His laugh held a hint of self-mockery, and her gut twisted. She fought the need to reach across the table and touch him—to smooth his hair back from his brow, to kiss his smiling mouth and lose herself in the searing, deep connection that had always burned between them. Instead, she smiled back and kept her distance.
They ate their filets with shared gusto and fell into lighter chatter. She caught him up on the town gossip, and he entertained her with funny stories about celebrities. Soon she was relaxed, glowing from an abundance of good alcohol and rare meat.
“Kyle Kimpton!”
Ophelia smiled at the starstruck-looking couple. She’d known it was only a matter of time before Maureen interrupted them, but she understood. Maureen and her husband, Jack, ran the local movie theater and had watched them grow up. Kyle stood to greet them with genuine warmth.
“My goodness, you look wonderful,” Maureen squealed, her brown hair now peppered with gray, and her trim figure a bit more rounded from the generosity of age. “I cannot believe I’m screening your movies now! Remember when you both used to request a giant tub of popcorn with extra butter and then add snowcaps?”
They laughed. Jack clapped Kyle on the shoulder. “We’re really proud of you, son. Knew you’d be a big hit in Hollywood. You were always our first customer when a new movie came to the theater. Glad to see you got Ophelia out for a date night. She needs a break from the inn.”
Maureen practically glowed with triumph. “I always thought you’d make a cute couple.”
Warmth flushed her cheeks.
God, did the whole town assume they were together?
She opened her mouth to tell them he was only staying temporarily, but Kyle smoothly cut in. “Ophelia does work way too hard. I need to remind her how to play.” He gave her a wink, and she tried not to glare.
Maureen sighed. “Well, she’s just like her mom. She runs the best bed-and-breakfast in town. It’s too bad that the singing didn’t work out, though. You were so talented, dear, but I know Hollywood is brutal. At least Kyle made it. I’m sure you’re happy to have a quieter, more stable life.”
Jack nodded. “We’re just grateful to have you back. Maybe you can stop by the theater sometime and do a talk for the college students? They’d love it. We can screen one of your movies.”
Ophelia noticed Kyle sending a worried glance toward her, as if shocked at Maureen’s raw words, but he managed to smile and agree and end the conversation gracefully.
As the waiter cleared the table and handed them the dessert menus, an uncomfortable silence fell between them.
“I can’t believe she said that to you,” he muttered, temper carving out the lines of his face. “I’m sorry, Ophelia. I should’ve said something.”
She shrugged, regarding him openly. “Why? She’s right, and I don’t disagree with anything she said.”
“Really? Well, I don’t agree. I know if you would’ve stayed on that show, you would’ve become a huge star. And though you say you’re happy at the inn, I know how often you must think about what could have been if you stayed. I remember how badly you wanted a career different from your mom’s. I just want you to know I understand.” He paused, as if reaching deep inside himself and connecting with his emotions. “I also want to tell you I forgive you for running away. We were young, and we made a lot of mistakes. I’m sorry for everything I did that contributed to the breakup, but let’s both move forward and start fresh. What do you think?”
The world shifted. A deep, uncurling anger began in her belly and flowed outward, heating her blood. She stared into his familiar face, now carved out in sympathy, and began to shake with the need to yell, scream, throw, hit. The years of silence and buried resentment sprang up with vicious glee, until her vision blurred with the need to make him finally understand the truth.
“I’m glad you forgive me, Kyle,” she said quietly, her voice so sharp he watched her with a wary glint in his eye. “Unfortunately, I don’t forgive you.”
He blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“You never did. I don’t think you ever really wanted to.” She closed her menu, retrieved her purse, and pushed her chair back. “I’m going to pay the bill. I’ll meet you in the car.”
“Ophelia—”
“Not another word. I’m not about to lose it in front of your fan club.”
“But—”
She stood and walked away with her chin high and her emotions roiling like a witch’s cauldron.
What the hell had just happened?
Kyle drove back to the inn, going over the evening. Yes, it had started rough, but eventually, he’d sensed her walls lowering. The hum of attraction had deepened into that comforting familiarity he always loved about being around her, as if there was a piece missing inside him that only she was able to fill.
He thought offering his forgiveness and understanding for her abandonment had been a good thing. A grown-up, healthy way to heal the wounds of the past. Instead, she’d stormed out and now maintained an icy silence he hadn’t been able to break.
He needed to find out exactly what had pissed her off.
“Not talking to me isn’t going to solve the problem,” he reminded her. “I’m on your side, remember? I apologized. I offered forgiveness. I told you I understood how hard it must be when you think about your singing.”
“You have no idea how I feel, because you never stopped long enough to talk to me.”
Her profile was edged in ice, and suddenly his own temper surged, mixed with confusion. “Then for God’s sake, why don’t you end the mystery and tell me! What did I say back there that was so wrong?”
He pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine.
She gnashed her teeth, jerked around, and lit into him. “Let’s start with your arrogance. You forgive me for running away, Kyle? How generous of you—to try and understand how I could leave after you broke your final promise to me. I begged you for weeks to talk with me. I told you I was confused and not happy, and you ignored me. You’d kiss me and run off to work—sometimes for days. And even when you were home, you were in this fog, refusing to engage. At night you’d fuck me, roll over, and fall asleep. I watched you slip away day by day. I fought with everything I had, but do you remember what you’d say?”
A flare of guilt ignited deep. He didn’t like to think about the way he may have treated her during his intense work sessions. He’d tried to explain how important it was that he be on call and throw himself into his career, assured her that it would eventually calm down. That he’d finally give her time.
Had he, though?
“What did I say?”
“You said I wasn’t supportive. That I was being selfish by nagging you, and that we’d made an agreement to support one another in our quest for success.” Her laugh was bitter. “God, I begged you for time. I told you I couldn’t take any more, and you promised to come back that night to talk. I waited for you all night, but you didn’t even call. You didn’t text. You did nothing. Because I had become unimportant.”
“I tried to explain how crazy things got,” he said stiffly. “I brought home roses. I swore I’d take you away for a quiet weekend, but when I got home, you weren’t there.”
“I didn’t need roses or a fancy getaway. I just wanted you to look into my eyes and see me again. I was so lonely.”
His heart shattered. The silence settled around them, throbbing with memories and regrets. “I was wrapped up in my own head,” he finally said. “I didn’t realize how far I’d drifted away, or that I took you for granted. I wanted so badly for us to succeed together—I thought that was the reason we left for California. I wanted you to have it all.”
When she looked at him, he sucke
d in his breath. The truth in her eyes slammed through him and tore apart every last shred of belief he had regarding their relationship. He realized maybe he hadn’t known the woman he loved after all.
“I already had it all,” she said quietly. “I didn’t leave with you to be a famous singer. Oh sure, I intended to try, but it was never my focus.” Her voice broke. “Singing wasn’t the only thing I wanted. It was just you.”
He jerked at the raw admission, shaking his head as if to deny the pain. “No, we both wanted different lives. Neither of us wanted to end up like our parents—stuck in a small town in a small job. We wanted more.”
“No, you wanted more. Remember what you asked me that day in the fields? The day you said you wanted to marry me?”
The breath stuck in his lungs. “What?”
“You asked if I wanted to spend my life as a glorified housekeeper. Like my mom. And I knew right then and there that I wanted you more than anything in the world. I loved you with my heart and soul, and that I needed to be the type of woman you’d admire. A woman who went for the brass ring and was bigger than life. A star, like you.”
He stared at her, his heart squeezing with tension. Somehow, he sensed her next words would change things.
She shook her head. “Yes, I wanted to sing, but I didn’t look at my mom the way you did. I saw her happy and fulfilled. I saw her laugh and chat with guests and learn about the world through other people. I watched her serve with a giving heart. I thought it was a good life—until you convinced me it would be too limited. Too boring. How could I have expressed that I didn’t mind spending my life in Gardiner, taking care of people like my mom? You would’ve left me. So I tried to change and focus on my singing as wholeheartedly as you focused on writing. It just wasn’t me. I loved singing, but I despised every other part of that world—your world. The world you loved and became a part of.”
She leaned over and touched his cheek. Her eyes glinted in the shards of moonlight spilling into the car. Her musical voice seethed with sadness.
“I only wanted you, and when I realized you needed so much more than just me, I knew I had to leave. Before we completely destroyed each other, worse than we already had. I didn’t run away as much as I returned home to be who I wanted. And I’m not ashamed to say this is who I am. I’m proud of my life. I’m happy running the inn.”
A Brand New Ending (Stay Book 2) Page 12
