by Brenda Novak
She pressed two fingers to each temple. “I know! I understand you feel responsible for that. And I admire how determined you are to do the right thing. But…I can’t bear to see you unhappy. We all feel like we’re attending your funeral instead of your wedding!”
The others must have shared the details of the past few weeks with her because he hadn’t had the chance to say much since she hit town. She lived in L.A., was the only member of their group to have moved away and had been gone since starting her public relations firm over a decade ago.
Normally he loved it when she came home. She had the best stories about the movie stars she represented. At last count, she was working with several box office hits, including Hollywood heavyweight Simon O’Neal. But they hadn’t had a chance to catch up on any of that this time around.
“It’s just extra hard,” he said. “With Olivia here.”
“I’ve let my work take over my life, so I’m no expert on relationships,” she said. “But…if you won’t cancel this, you should at least put it off until you’re more confident in your decision.”
He laughed. “Are you kidding me? The wedding’s tomorrow, Gail. There’s no way I can change anything.” If he backed out, he feared Noelle would make it impossible for him to ever see his child. As long as she got her way, she was tractable. But if he embarrassed or upset her, she’d fight him on everything.
“Kyle—”
“There you are.”
They both turned to see Eve, who managed The Gold Nugget, the bed and breakfast owned by her family.
“Did you tell him what we think?” she asked Gail.
Gail shot Kyle a meaningful glance. “I told him.”
Eve gave him a stern look. “So are you going to call it off?”
Once again, he searched for a better way to handle the situation but couldn’t find one. “No. I’m going to be a father. Nothing can take precedence over that.”
* * *
They were almost out of the room, almost free, when Kyle’s father caught up with Brandon and pulled him off to one side. “So what are you doing to keep busy now that the cast is off?” he asked.
Olivia gritted her teeth at being detained. She couldn’t wait to leave, to put the rehearsal dinner behind them and return to the peace of Brandon’s secluded cabin. She needed to regroup, but she couldn’t allow her eagerness to show. Everyone was watching her too closely, wondering if she’d been late in some passive-aggressive attempt to make her unhappiness known.
“Just working out every day, trying to get in shape for the season.”
Brandon answered Bob’s questions politely, but Olivia could tell he was purposely playing up the ski bum image. He’d already told her that spring and summer were almost as busy as fall and winter. When she’d acted surprised, he’d explained that he had to meet with his sponsors, be available to film commercials and participate in photo shoots, most of which required travel to New York or Los Angeles. He also had to appear at various events, including children’s camps and autographings, and increase his presence on social networking sites. Professional skiing was a business as much as a sport, and the stacks of paperwork on his desk—mostly contracts of one kind or another—seemed to prove it. So did the poster samples he’d been sent. One showed him dropping, seemingly without effort, down the face of an alarmingly steep mountain wearing an expensive brand of ski gear. Another captured his smiling face in a pair of Oakley goggles with ice crystals caught in the beard growth along his jaw.
He could’ve told his stepfather about these things. He could also have mentioned that he was making a tremendous amount of money. Although they hadn’t spoken about that aspect, Olivia could tell it was true. But Brandon refused to vie for Bob’s approval, and Olivia couldn’t help but respect that.
“Can the leg take another season?” This question was spoken with apparent concern, but Olivia heard the subtext. Bob thought Brandon should hang up his skis and get serious about life.
She guessed Brandon interpreted his tone the same way and that made her sad. Brandon was one of the best skiers in the world, yet Bob treated him as if he hadn’t accomplished anything. He seemed to think Brandon should be a horse breeder like him, or something else more “legitimate,” like Kyle.
“Leg’s getting stronger all the time,” Brandon assured him. “It’ll be fine.”
Olivia imagined the pain Brandon must’ve suffered from that injury. Another daunting descent would require courage, but she had no doubt he’d do it. His daring made her smile.
She was still smiling when she realized that Brandon was watching her with a speculative expression. He had somehow guessed that her smile was related to him. His lips quirked slightly as if he was tempted to grin back at her, even though a grin wasn’t appropriate to the conversation he was having with the disapproving Bob.
“Well, you’ve got several months before you go back to Europe. You want to learn what it’s like to put in a hard day’s work, come on out to the stables,” Bob was saying. “We’ve got our hands full this year. Might be a great way to make some extra cash.”
Brandon thanked him for the opportunity but begged off, saying he was going backpacking in Nicaragua. That didn’t win him any points with Bob, but it made Olivia chuckle. Brandon knew just how to tweak his stepfather’s nose without appearing to be impolite.
She turned to hide her mirth and came face-to-face with Brandon’s mother. Paige had been talking to Nancy and Ham, who’d just left.
“I’m sorry about how things worked out for you with Kyle,” Paige said, almost conspiratorially. “We miss seeing you at the house.”
“I miss you, too,” Olivia responded, feeling an odd tug for what used to be.
“Brandon’s far more of a handful,” she responded. “But it’s impossible not to love him.”
Another warning—in case Olivia wasn’t already a believer. “We’re just friends,” she said, but Paige had already started a separate conversation with Cheyenne Christensen, whose mother was suffering from cancer. Olivia didn’t think Paige had heard the rejoinder.
“What’d she say?” Brandon had finally broken away from his stepfather.
“She said she loves you.”
Taking hold of her elbow, he guided her out. “Was she shaking her head as if it’s against her will?” he asked with a laugh.
* * *
Olivia had been so eager to get to Brandon’s house, but even before they walked through the door she knew she wouldn’t be able to unwind the way she’d envisioned. They no longer had to cope with the myriad emotions swirling around the wedding party. Her father’s disapproval. Noelle’s jealousy. Kyle’s sullenness. The palpable concern of Kyle’s friends. All of that suddenly seemed far away…part of another lifetime. Instead they had to cope with each other, and that was almost more difficult, because every word they’d spoken on the drive back, every incidental touch as he let her in, felt like foreplay to a sexual encounter she knew she’d be foolish to allow.
It wasn’t so unusual for a woman in her situation to want to jump into bed with the next handsome guy. Another relationship, one with a quick flame, could assuage the loneliness and ease the sting of rejection. But, oddly enough, this was different. It didn’t feel as if Brandon would be a substitute for Kyle. It felt as if Kyle had always been a substitute for Brandon!
She was fairly certain the rebound experience wasn’t supposed to work like that and couldn’t figure out why her situation was so different. She and Kyle had only been apart for about four months, and thanks to his betrayal, those four months had been the most miserable of her life. That meant she still loved him, didn’t it?
So how could she care more about being with Brandon than she did about being hurt and angry over Kyle’s Big Mistake? What he’d done meant they could never be together again.
But that didn’t seem to matter so much anymore.
“Would you like some herbal tea?” Brandon asked as she put her purse on the counter.
“What kind do you h
ave?”
“A blend I found in Thailand.” He reached into a cupboard to get the box, which he showed her. “You should try it.”
She pictured them drinking tea together, talking into the night and eventually ending up in his bed. She wanted that exact scenario so badly she almost chose satisfaction over caution.
Maybe she would have, if not for his mother’s words: It’s impossible not to love him.
She had an inkling that might be true. She’d always been drawn to Brandon, but never more so than in the past two days. She figured it was better to get away while she could. So, after a brief hesitation, she shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ve got to get up early. I wouldn’t want to oversleep the way I did today.”
She halfway hoped he’d try to convince her to stay up with him. But he didn’t. He told her he understood and added a polite good-night.
Forcing a smile to hide her disappointment, she nodded, but before she turned away, she caught sight of something that held her fast. When he moved, a grimace crossed his face and he shifted to take his weight off the leg he’d broken in his skiing accident.
“Are you okay?” She’d heard him say his doctors had been able to put him back together, that he was healed and already training for the next season.
His expression cleared instantly. He even exerted normal pressure on his leg while putting away the tea. “Of course. Why?”
“I just thought…” She stopped herself. He wouldn’t be planning to walk across Nicaragua if his leg was causing him trouble. She must’ve imagined that he felt pain. Or maybe he’d just twisted it, which could make anyone wince. “Never mind,” she said. “See you in the morning.”
Chapter 10
Something woke Olivia a few hours later. She wasn’t sure what—until she listened carefully. Then she realized it was the TV. Although the house was otherwise dark and quiet, she could hear the drone of voices and wondered what Brandon was watching.
It had to be late.
She checked her phone on the nightstand. Sure enough, it was three-thirty.
She tried to go back to sleep. It wasn’t any of her business what Brandon was doing. But after lying awake for another twenty minutes, she got up to see if he was okay. Maybe he needed someone to cover him and turn off the TV....
He had a television in his bedroom. She’d seen it when they’d napped in there before. But that wasn’t where she found him. Perhaps he’d thought he’d keep her awake if he used that one. Or he liked the loft better, because he was there, asleep in a recliner.
He’d changed into an old T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. That he’d wanted to get comfortable didn’t come as any surprise, but his leg in a brace and buried beneath half a dozen ice packs did.
“Oh, God.” She hadn’t imagined the flicker of pain on his face earlier. Although he’d masked it quickly, there was no doubt now. Besides the brace and the ice, she saw a bottle of prescription pain medication on the table beside him. Obviously his leg was still giving him a great deal of trouble.
Her presence and the two words she’d uttered were enough to wake him. He opened his eyes and looked at her. Then he tried to sit up and grab for the remote, but it had fallen out of his hands and onto the floor.
She retrieved it for him, but by then she’d already seen what he probably didn’t want her to see. He’d been watching the footage of his own fall. From what she could tell, his support crew was a couple of hours into trying to get him help. She could see the dark speck he made on the mountain, hear the helicopter from which they were filming and the frantic discussion going on between the cameraman and the pilot. She could also feel the tremendous concern, the sheer urgency of the situation. According to the stopwatch on the screen, whoever held the camera had been filming for two hours and forty-four minutes, but rescuers hadn’t yet been able to reach Brandon on that steep slope.
How long did he have to lie there, in a crumpled heap, waiting? She’d never thought about that. She’d seen the same clip as everyone else—the part where he lost control and tumbled like a rag doll down the cliff, hitting rocks and trees along the way—but not this extended version. This wasn’t for public consumption. She hadn’t even considered how hard it would be for emergency help to get to him or how it must’ve felt for him to lie there suffering. It was a miracle they’d been able to rescue him at all.
“Are you wondering how you survived?” she asked.
He scratched his head as he relaxed into his seat. “I’m wondering how I screwed up so badly, how I put myself in that position in the first place.”
“You’re good at what you do, Brandon, but…anyone can make a mistake. Especially on a slope like that.”
He took the remote and snapped off the TV as if he couldn’t bear to see any more, and she frowned as she studied his leg. “I hope you’re really going backpacking across Nicaragua in two weeks because, if I remember right, I was invited to join you.”
“I’ll take you next summer.” He shifted so he could remove the ice packs on his leg.
“So that invitation—it was just a fake?” Nudging his hands away, she stripped off the packs.
“Sort of. I have to leave town, but I won’t be doing any backpacking.”
“Where are you going?”
Obviously uncomfortable revealing this information, he cleared his throat. “There’s a doctor in Europe. Thinks he can fix my leg.” He motioned to a small refrigerator in the corner near the wet bar. “The packs go in there.”
Apparently sitting up with his leg in a brace wasn’t an unusual occurrence. “You need another operation?” she asked as she opened the fridge.
“At least one,” he answered. “In order to regain full range of motion, it might take more.”
“And you’re not telling anyone because…”
Velcro rasped as he removed the brace and set it beside his chair. “I can’t risk losing my sponsors. If they think I’ll no longer be a force in the industry, they’ll sign someone else.”
“I see.” She folded her arms. “And you haven’t told anyone here at home because you’re afraid we might leak the truth to the press?”
“Figured if I’m going to lie, I might as well be consistent among all my friends.”
“What about your family?”
“What family?”
“Your mother loves you, Brandon.”
“And she loves Bob and Kyle and will soon have a grandbaby. I’m a big boy. I’ve made my decision and I’ll live with the results. There’s no need to worry her.”
How many times had his parents warned him not to take the risks he took? “That’s gallant of you. I think. Except, if I was your mother, I’m pretty sure I’d want to know.”
“I’ve considered that. But if I tell her, I essentially tell my stepfather, too, and I don’t want to hear him say, ‘I told you so.’ I especially don’t want to put up with having him act as if I deserve this.”
She could understand his feelings. She’d heard Bob expound on the subject of Brandon and his choice of career before, when she was at the Housemans’ with Kyle. At the time, she’d agreed with him. Now she felt…torn. She wanted Brandon to be happy, wanted to see him excel at what he loved. She just didn’t want him to lose his life chasing the next adrenaline rush.
“I heard the condescending way he was talking to you tonight.” Groggy from sleep and possibly the painkiller, he seemed a little out of it, so she helped him to his feet. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“My stepfather is a pain in the ass,” he grumbled, but he settled an arm over her shoulders so he could take some of the pressure off his bad leg.
She decided it was better not to comment on that, since she’d once been sympathetic to Bob’s frustrations where Brandon was concerned. “Back to Nicaragua.”
“Are you sorry the trip’s off?”
“I’m wondering why you invited me to go at all.”
“Wishful thinking.”
An adventure like that had sounded nice. It s
till did.
“And I knew you’d refuse,” he added.
He also knew it made a great cover, a believable cover, for the length of time he’d be gone. She had to hand it to him, he was good at hiding the problem. Until he’d winced earlier, she’d never even suspected. “And if I hadn’t?” she asked.
“You could come to Europe with me, travel around while I recuperate—as long as you stop by to see me once in a while.”
She could imagine how lonely that would be—to have an operation in a foreign county when all your friends and family thought you were having such a great time they didn’t bother to write or call. But, assuming he wasn’t any more serious about having her join him in Europe than he’d been about Nicaragua, she let that comment slide. “You made yourself climb these stairs. Maybe if you didn’t push yourself so hard, your leg would have a chance to heal on its own.”
“Stairs are the least of my worries. I’m going to have to do much more than climb up to my loft if I want to hang on to my career.”
He was scared, she realized. Scared that everything he’d been was somehow gone. He had to recreate himself.
She could relate to that. She’d embraced moving to Sacramento, had been eager to have a year to herself to see what she could do to expand her professional aspirations. But then her life had taken the Kyle-Noelle detour and she’d been floundering ever since.
“Would it be so terrible to retire?” Finished navigating the stairs, she guided him into the hall. “Surely you can’t expect to ski such dangerous runs forever.”
“No, not forever. Just another two or three years. I’m not ready to give it up. When I go out, it’ll be on my terms.”
The conviction in his voice told her that even if his efforts didn’t pay off, he’d put up one hell of a fight. “Then I believe you’ll make a comeback. If not this season, the next.”
He didn’t respond. She feared he knew her encouragement was simply that—encouragement.
“For now you need to get some sleep,” she said. “Or you won’t convince anyone that leg has healed.”
They’d reached his room. She hesitated at the entrance, expecting him to continue on himself but, keeping one arm around her shoulders, he touched her face with the opposite hand.
