Loved

by Rebekah Dodson

  More importantly, just how would I win back the woman who walked out of my life and told me she never wanted to see me again?

  Chapter 3

  Ellie

  THE DOOR SLAMMED AFTER Matt left, and meanwhile, Camden ran around the room like she’d never seen a suite before. I stood there by the door, my heart thudding a mile a minute, my right hand pressed to my chest.

  How dare he look so handsome! His gray eyes twinkled like silver, and he’d grown a mustache and dashing goatee in place of his normal clean-shaven face. He wasn’t Matthew Sinclair the lawyer anymore, he was Matt Sinclair, resort ... owner?

  I almost laughed at myself.

  Five years had changed him more than I wanted to admit. He was still tall and thin, but now he was even more well-built, with arms that slightly bulged in his button-up shirt. His normally midnight black hair was streaked with gray, despite him being only in his mid-thirties. The dark, trim goatee—that now sported lighter gray, too—on his face had shocked me as well. I’d never seen so much as a five o’clock shadow the entire time we were married. It wasn’t so much that he had looked different, older, more composed than I’d ever seen him.

  He appeared happy. He had a glow about him that...

  “Cam,” I started. If I didn’t get her attention, I might explode.

  “This closet is huge!” she exclaimed, pulling the door open and staring there like some kind of Hollywood star.

  “Camden!” I shouted. She turned and her face fell.

  In true best friend fashion, she rolled her eyes at me. “So what if your ex works here. Don’t let that stop us from having fun, girlfriend!”

  “Not just an ex; it’s Matt.” My fists balled at my side. “What is he even doing here? Did you know he worked here?”

  Camden shook her head, flopping her suitcase on the bed and unpacking. She slid a stack of clothes into the open drawer under the TV set up. She gave me that “best friend I’m on to you” look. “What does it matter? You’re not going to let this destroy our weekend getaway, are you?”

  I frowned. The flood of endorphins rushing through me at seeing him again threatened to destroy me. “I’ll try not to.”

  The last of her clothes put away, Camden turned to hang up two gorgeous dresses, one of them with straps barely thick enough to hold the delicate, shimmering fabric, in the closet. She tucked her suitcase in beside it. “Well, don’t let it bother you, hun.” She sat on the bed. She patted the smooth comforter next to her and I sat down, looking at my hands. The tan line from my wedding ring had faded long ago, but I gazed at that spot anyway.

  “You did right, you know,” Camden admitted softly. “Leaving him, I mean.”

  “Did I?” I stared at my best friend.

  Camden frowned. “Don’t you remember how miserable you were? He was never home, when he was, he was drunk. You never talked to each other. It was over for a long time, and you hung in there. What else was you supposed to do, El?”

  “That’s true. But what if I didn’t try hard enough?”

  “You tried for years, El. The best years of your life. Now we’re in our thirties, and it’s your chance to start over. Find a man this weekend and forget about that cheating bastard Henry or your cold-hearted ex-husband. Have a fling and enjoy yourself.”

  Elaine rolled her eyes at Camden. “I can’t just jump into bed with someone, you know that.”

  “Oh, those morals. You’re too much of a good girl, Elaine.” She nudged her in the shoulder. “I’ll fix you right up this weekend, you’ll see.” She reached forward and grabbed the leather-bound brochure on the dresser, flipping it open to the first page. “Now, what should we do first?”

  Camden glanced down the page briefly. There was a variety of country things: horseback riding, hiking, apple picking, wine-tasting, in addition to some relaxation activities like sunrise yoga and a trip to the nearby hot springs. At the very bottom, two other activities caught her eye.

  “Land-rover driving school?” The picture of a Jeep captured nose-down in a giant puddle of mud concerned me and looked rather dangerous. “I don’t know, Camden, this place sounds like...”

  “Too much adventure for your boring ass?” Camden interrupted. “Come on, Elaine, live a little. Hey, do you think the hot springs are clothing optional?”

  “Jesus, Camden.”

  She leaped off the bed. “You mean people wouldn’t want to see this fine black ass?” She smacked it for good measure.

  I laughed. “Okay, so what do we do first?”

  “Well, first, it’s time for a nap, because driving sucks. Then let’s explore.”

  “Explore?”

  “Yeah, like walk around?

  “In nature?”

  Before Camden could answer, Elaine’s phone buzzed in her purse next to her and she reached for it. It was from Harrison, her office assistant. Some urgent paperwork needed signed.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Camden snatched her phone from her hand before she could even respond to the message. She danced away from me, towards the desk under the window. “You promised, El! No phones this weekend!”

  I tried to grab it back from her. “I need to answer that!”

  “You don’t need to do anything. Harrison knows you’re on vacation, right?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “Then no phone.” She clicked it off, and I heard it buzz as it shut down. From her back pocket she pulled her phone out as well, the gold studded case blazing in the sunlight from the window. She held it up, and then shoved them both in the drawer in the desk and shut it with her rear end.

  I wound my fists into the bed spread and ground my teeth, resisting the urge to fly at the desk and retrieve my phone. “What if there’s an emergency at work?”

  “They’ll survive without you, I’m sure. Or, they can call the resort and get your room number if they are that desperate.” I briefly located the black telephone on the nightstand by the bed. Cam followed my gaze, then reached out and smacked my hand. “No,” she demanded, “don’t you dare. Bad Elaine.” She flopped on the bed. “Now, who gets the bed and who gets that luxurious couch piled with goose-feather pillows in the other room?”

  I STARTLED AWAKE AN hour later, throwing off my jacket that I’d used to cover myself while I napped. I made a note to get and extra blanket from the front desk later. Camden was still snoring in the bedroom. Even though I’d ended up on the couch, I actually loved it. It was bigger than any normal couch I’d ever seen, and the pillows really were like sleeping on air. I could already feel some of my stress leaking out of my bones.

  I was still a little irritated at Cam. She wasn’t wrong earlier: I needed the rest and relaxation, and she knew it. How she knew my migraines had been bad, my shoulders ached every morning, and my back screamed in agony when I sat at my desk for too long, I didn’t know. Here I was, thirty-four years old, with the body of an old woman. Maybe Camden was right, and I was working too hard. But who else would take care of our hospital staff? My assistants were bumbling idiots on the best of days.

  All those thoughts fled my mind as soon as I heard the room phone ring in the back bedroom. Immediately Cam’s words about how the office would call our room in an emergency reminded me my phone was still locked up in the desk drawer. Trying to leap to my feet but instead standing slowly and winching at my familiar ‘old lady’ pains, I tiptoed to the bedroom and pushed the half-shut door open slowly. It creaked slightly, and Camden’s snoring abruptly stopped. I could clearly see her in the bed, her eyes covered by her golden sleeping mask. She rolled over, squeezing a pillow in her arms, and started to snore once more. How she slept through that shrill ring I would never know.

  Instead of answering the phone and risk waking Cam, I reached the desk first and slid the drawer open. Snatching my phone and retreating back to the couch, I folded my legs under me and powered it on. It took an eternity for the screen to flip on and finally boot up. I scrolled through notifications, which were piling in as my phone buzzed ove
r and over in my hand. I had almost thirty of them; a slow day for an hour. Eleven emails, four phone calls, and one voicemail from Harrison about paperwork issues, six texts from my apartment-sitting neighbor, Shelly, wishing me good luck on my trip and also reminding me I needed cat litter when I got home, and seven more spam emails I quickly deleted, and finally two receipts for payment from our road trip.

  I thumbed over the ‘Call Harrison’ button but worried I might wake Camden and she would take my phone away again. Instead, I hastily opened the emails, applied my electronic signature, and sent them back over. Vacations approved for two staff, one injury report to send to workman’s comp, and three meetings set up for Tuesday morning. Then, a text to my mom about my cat: thanks for taking care of Sparky, I’ll pick up litter on Monday. Love you.

  Thirty minutes passed until I was satisfied everything was answered and taken care of. Camden was still snoring, so I slipped back into the room and tucked my phone quietly in the drawer.

  No sooner had I shut it than did she start moaning awake.

  I pushed away from the desk quickly and grabbed a random brochure from the desk caddy, throwing myself on the bed next to her.

  Camden was busy ripping off her mask and blinking at me. “How’s my hair?”

  Her gorgeous black ringlets were smashed to one side of her head and the other side had them sticking straight out. “I think you might need relaxer before we go out, sleepyhead.”

  She groaned. “That’s the story of my life.” Shaking out her hair, she pushed herself off the bed and wandered to the shared bathroom, shutting the door behind her. I heard the water running off and on, and I wondered if she was applying her lipstick again for the tenth time today. I examined the desk drawer, which I hadn’t shut all the way, hoping Camden wouldn’t see it.

  Thankfully, she didn’t notice, as she exited the bathroom with her shiny new pink lipstick glossed over her lips, and her smooth black ringlets hanging beautifully to her shoulders. I envied her gorgeous hair, though I knew it was a pain in the ass for maintenance. Anything beat my boring, straight, light brown hair any day.

  “Are you ready?” she clapped her hands. “Get your shoes on, bitch, we’re taking a walk. Let’s find out what this resort has to offer.”

  MOSCATO VINEYARD WAS more than just a place to stay, it was an experience. At least, that’s what the brochures had promised. As Camden and I stepped off the front porch and headed to the end of the parking lot, I began to realize this was more than just a bed and breakfast, it was also a little cozy resort. The brochure boasted great scenes, plus a spa, yoga, and horseback riding, but the Internet told me celebrities also came up here to rent the entire place out and get away from it all.

  Up ahead the rustic, Spanish style inn itself, the vineyard stretched out in every direction up over the Oregon hills, separated only with a brick path that wound through the grape leaves. Cupping my hand over my eyes, I could see a small one-story building at the top of one of the fields, and then to the right, a huge and fancy shiny white barn. On the side of the barn I could barely make out a small stable with white corrals to the side of that. A couple of horses milled about in the field that stretched by the side of the barn, and beside the corral a wide apple orchard stretched the length of the property.

  In front of us, the winding gravel path that led back to civilization was packed with cars trying to squeeze into the tiny side lot.

  “Ooh, is that a pond over there? With a freakin’ gazebo?” Camden squealed just behind me. “I wonder if they get a lot of weddings out here?”

  “I bet that’s what the barn is for,” I murmured. People were streaming out of cars: mostly couples arm in arm, including two men with their arms around each other’s waists as they lifted their selfie stick high in the air and smiled into the phone camera. A couple with a sullen looking teenager on her phone wandered past us from their car, a newer looking sleek, black Jaguar. Four more older couples sauntered up to the front of the inn.

  I felt strangely out of place with all these upper-class citizens. There sure was a lot of them. “Speaking of a wedding, is there some event this weekend?” I asked Camden.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, but come on, let’s go check out that pond.” She took off towards the brick path, a skip in her step, her white scarf tied loosely around her neck flowing behind her.

  I laughed and followed her, though my fingers itched to get back to my phone. The faster I let her do her crazy thing, the sooner I could back in our room and make sure the rest of the world was ok.

  We weaved through the grape field, tiny buds of grapes this early in the season giving way to more mature plants as we continued. We were alone out here, I noticed, the new arrivals still clamoring to get checked in at the inn, I figured. The barn and gazebo loomed in sight, and as we approached the gazebo, I gasped at the gorgeous sienna stucco roof, flat, with contrasting gray pillars. It was bigger than I thought and could easily fit fifty people in it. The air was filled with the clean, crisp leaves around us, but a hint of acrid paint fumes as well.

  How strange.

  As we approached, Camden yanked my arm and pulled me into one of the grape rows and shoved me down until I nearly fell on my knees.

  “Are you crazy, bi—”

  “Shh,” she pressed a finger to her lips. “There’s someone up there.”

  “So?” I tried to stand, but she pushed me down again. “We can go anywhere, right? I mean, it’s public...”

  “Shut up!” Camden hissed. “Look.”

  She parted the leaves of the mature plant in front of us, and though we were barely covered, the man painting the gazebo didn’t seem to notice our arrival.

  His shirtless back was to us as he reached up with the wide brush, delicately touching up the corners of the gray pillars where they connected to the roof. Tanned, muscular shoulders rippled as he gently applied the gray paint with a calculated swish back and forth. I could barely make out the corners of Bluetooth headphones poked in each ear. No wonder he hadn’t heard us crashing down the path.

  “Now that’s a man,” Camden whispered with a low whistle.

  I licked my lips. I had to agree. I’d dated teachers, doctors, lawyers my entire life. Sadly, none of them had ever looked like this. This man looked like he worked all day on the railroad, if you know what I mean.

  “Maybe we should go,” I nudged Camden. “He looks busy.”

  “I’ll tell you how he looks ... oh shit.”

  He was bending over now to get more paint on his brush. I sucked in a breath. Even his rear end in those tight jeans was a wonder to behold.

  The branch Camden had been gripping snapped off in her fingers.

  “Oh...shit...” my words came out slow and drawn as he turned and stared right at us.

  “Is that...” Camden’s mouth dropped open.

  “Elaine,” Matt greeted us with a smile. “I trust you ladies are enjoying your time?”

  We both stood. “Jesus Christ, Matt,” I uttered, and he considered me, puzzled.

  “What?”

  I was openly staring at his wide chest, glistening from his excursion painting, despite the chilly fall weather. I cleared my throat and wrapped my sweater around me even tighter.

  “Have you always looked like that?” I blurted.

  He frowned and stared at the ground. “Uh...”

  I felt Camden’s foot stomp on my own and I nearly choked on what I had just said. Resisting the urge to wipe the nervous sweat from my forehead, I shared a look with Camden, silently pleading with her to do something. Save me, bitch, I shot the thought to her head.

  “Great place you got here,” Camden gushed before I could embarrass myself any further. “It’s really beautiful. So are you like the handyman or something?”

  Matt laughed, grabbing a white shirt from the ground and pulling it over his head. He chuckled. “No, actually. I’m the owner.”

  “The...” I started, then shook my head. “What happened to your law firm
?”

  He shrugged. “Resigned.” He wiped the paintbrush on the side of the can, wrapped it in a thin towel, and propped the lid on the paint.

  “Aren’t you like thirty-ish?” Camden protested, crossing her arms. “Surely this is a summer job...”

  “Nope. Name’s on the deed and everything.” He flashed a smile at us.

  “So you just bought this place?” I muttered, surprised I sounded angry. Why shouldn’t he buy a place like this? He was a free man, after all. He clearly had the money, with all the time he spent as the office as a lawyer.

  “Wrong again. I guess you could say I inherited it.” He picked up the can. “If you ladies will excuse me, I’ve got dinner service to oversee.” He nodded to them, and Camden stepped away from me to allow him to pass.

  He... excuse me? I glared at him. Matthew Sinclair always reminded me he was a self-made man and his money had been his top priority—even over me. It didn’t make any sense he’d suddenly come into money and then parade around here like he was some working man slash business owner. Something just didn’t add up.

  A few feet behind me, he stopped and turned his head, interrupting my suspicions. “Would you mind joining me for dinner? Both of you?”

  Camden’s eyes were narrowed at him, but before she could decline as I knew she would, I touched her arm. “Yes, we would be pleased to.”

  “Excellent. We have this huge wedding party arriving tonight, and it’ll be good for me to be out there to introduce the entertainment.”

  “Entertainment?” Camden asked.

  “Absolutely. It’s just a jazz band from the local high school, but they are pretty dang good. And also affordable. Like, free.”

  Free? That was a word I never thought I’d hear from Matt’s mouth. Where was my high roller ex-husband and had he been kidnapped by aliens and replaced by ... whatever this was?