by Jean Oram
Devon pretended to pull a dagger from his chest. He swung his front door open, giving Copter the hand signal for “stay.” “Well, it was nice seeing you, Mary Alice, but Olivia and I have a meeting.”
“Is that what you’re calling it these days?” She gave Devon’s bare chest a pointed look and laughed again, then said in a low voice to Olivia, “He’s single, you know. Quite a catch, even though he is a bit of a daredevil.” She raised her voice again, taking on a slight scolding tone. “Not that anyone can manage to hold him still for longer than a minute or two.”
“He’s not my type,” Olivia said weakly.
Tell me about it. He’d been good enough for the fun times, but as soon as things got tough she was suddenly no longer interested.
“Mary Alice, if you were only twenty years younger,” Devon teased. He waved Olivia toward the house, but she was still playing with her necklace, slowly edging away. He needed a distraction. Something big and worthy like a…like an explosion or an alien invasion. Because for all Olivia’s people training, she obviously wasn’t prepared for the powers of Mrs. Bernfield. Although, to be fair, Devon didn’t think even hostage negotiators would be equipped to deal with the woman.
Mary Alice caught sight of Olivia’s bare ring finger. “You know, I’ll bet you have exactly what it takes to tame that man over there. He’s actually quite sweet and kind.” She waited for a reply from Olivia, her eyebrows raised in question, but Devon was already down the steps and extracting his ex-girlfriend.
“She’s here for business, Mary Alice,” he said lightly, his tone carrying an undercurrent of warning. “Nothing more.”
Definitely nothing more.
“Devon, honey…” Mary Alice’s focus was on him now. “You flirt with anything that moves, and if you don’t want me chatting with her that means one thing. You two have a history, or something is going on in secret.”
“No!” Olivia and Devon both sputtered.
Mary Alice broke into a grin. “Thought so. And I’ll bet the two of you are married by the end of the month.” She waved her hands in excitement. “Oh! In fact, I’d better call Liz and place that bet before she does.” She scooped her fingers down the front of her shirt, pulling out her phone. Within seconds she was off, chatting to her sister and making a wager Devon knew she’d never win.
He could guarantee it.
Olivia straightened her soft gray cardigan wrap, cinching its belt. Devon was in the shower, less than twenty feet away. She was in his kitchen, an untouched cup of coffee on the table in front of her. Her late grandmother’s dog, Mr. Right, a gassy mutt she’d taken in after the funeral, was curled up at her feet, having already made friends with Devon’s dog, Copter. Her parents had tried repeatedly to take the dog to a shelter, but Olivia had held solid on her claim. Her grandmother, who’d been Olivia’s personal rock in the stormy sea of life, had loved Mr. Right, and the poor thing had mourned her loss like he was part human. In Olivia’s mind there was no way he was going anywhere but with her.
She pushed the coffee aside. She’d been wrong to come to Blueberry Springs. Wrong to think Devon might actually have something that would help the company and her project. Wrong to get out of her car and let that woman, Mary Alice, pluck assumptions from thin air.
Yes, she still felt a conflicting buzz, a special pulse of attraction, whenever she was near Devon. And apparently it was strong enough that others could see it.
But married by the end of the month? Wow.
She pressed her trembling fingers against her temples.
That was crazy talk.
Devon had apologized for Mary Alice, assuring Olivia that the entire town wasn’t as kooky as she was—although Olivia tended to doubt that—then hit the shower, after slamming things around in the kitchen as he brewed her a quick cup of joe. Black. Disgusting, in other words.
The few minutes had been awkward. So many minefields for them to dance around. And judging from the way Devon had shoved his hands into his longish hair, giving it a tug—a move she recalled meant he was stressed—he didn’t want anyone bringing up their past and waving it about any more than she did.
Which was good. She was here for business, not about their crash-and-burn relationship and all the festering wounds she thought had healed years ago.
She should have sent her assistant, though, or one of the scientists working on the proposed organic line. Or even her sister, Emma, who knew enough about the project and had been acting as though she needed a break from her usual management duties, stress lines marking her usually cheery face. But Olivia had come herself, feeling the need to control what might be said to those she worked with about her and Devon—their past, and specifically, the ill-fated pregnancy that even her sister didn’t know about.
The good news was that she needed to stick around only long enough see whatever stabilizing agent Devon thought he had for Carrington Cosmetics, check its viability, then go. If she was super quick she could even still make her six o’clock tee time with her father on the golf course of his dreams—the entire reason he’d chosen the Rockies for this year’s retreat despite her varied arguments against the location.
All she wanted was an all-natural lipstick that didn’t make people sick.
Was that too much to ask?
She rubbed her temples again and sighed.
This was crazy. Every last bit about today was crazy.
And returning to the dual-company retreat wasn’t going to be any less crazy, seeing as she’d have to face Luke and the big, life-altering question she’d managed to dodge last night.
The safe side of her wanted to say yes. She’d be marrying a man who was a loyal, protective friend. He was perfect, lovely, kind, generous and connected. Add in rich and handsome. Not exactly a hardship. Plus their union would help both companies, both families. Hardly a losing situation for anyone.
However, her more romantic side wanted to say no. Despite her fears, Olivia wanted more from marriage. She wanted love and passion. Something she knew she and Luke didn’t possess.
But maybe that would come in time?
The bathroom shower turned off and Olivia pulled her mind back to Blueberry Springs, staring at the door off the open traffic area on the other side of the kitchen island. Moments later, Devon stepped out, a towel around his waist, his chest ripped, waist tight and narrow. Entirely lickable.
She quickly looked away, her body tensing with what felt an awful lot like unwanted desire. Mr. Right, apparently similar of mind, went trotting over and licked Devon’s bare legs.
“Forgot my clothes,” Devon said, entering his adjacent bedroom and closing the door, completely unfazed. When it came to anything emotional the man’s middle name may as well be Unfazed. But then his initials would be DUM and that wouldn’t do.
Mr. Right sat outside the bedroom door and whined.
Even Mr. Right thought Devon was hot. And he was definitely every bit the man Olivia remembered. Relaxed, casual. Everyone liked him and nothing ever seemed to weigh on him. He took things as they came, problems rolling off him as if they didn’t exist. She’d used to admire that about him, wondering how she could get a piece of that for herself. But now? Now she just found it annoying. This was real life, full of adult stuff that needed realistic plans of attack. Dreaming and hoping didn’t make life happen.
He appeared again, this time in faded jeans and a loose cotton shirt. Mr. Right bounded to his side.
“Ready?” Devon asked.
Mr. Right barked and Devon chuckled. He reached down and rubbed the mutt’s shaggy fur, which never looked neat and tidy no matter how much grooming Olivia sent him for.
Mr. Right let one rip and Devon plugged his nose. “Wow.”
“I know. He smells.” Olivia’s tone dared him to say more, suggest she trade her pet in, leave him behind. She’d spent the past year trying different diets and nothing had worked. The dog had unsolvable gas. End of story.
“We should put an air freshener on your collar
,” Devon said, and Mr. Right barked once, then grinned, his bottom teeth covering his upper lip, shaggy brown fur falling into his eyes. “You’re awesome.” He looked to Olivia. “Shall we go check things out before we meet with the others about the plants?”
Olivia had already abandoned her coffee.
Get in. Get out. Today’s motto.
She followed Devon to the driveway, where he was hoisting the garage door, revealing an old, white car. He glanced at her Porsche. “Not sure that would like some of the gravel roads we have to take. Why don’t you ride with me? Awesome Dog can come, too, if you want, or we can leave him in the yard.”
“He doesn’t like to be separated from me.” She locked her car after retrieving her Gucci bag, then climbed into Devon’s beater as Mr. Right jumped in the back. The car not only had rust ringing its wheel wells, but it smelled like dust and running shoes. The dust was obvious—there was a coating all over the passenger’s side of the dash. She hugged her bag and tried not to lean too deeply into the seat cushions, curious about how long a vehicle would have to go without detailing to accumulate this much grime.
Devon chucked a tattered nylon backpack and some clipboards that had been on her seat into the back, and cracked a window for Mr. Right. Then he climbed in beside her, the car so small they practically rubbed shoulders. She pressed herself against the door, pretending to be interested in their surroundings.
“We’re going to head just out of town to a meadow,” Devon said as he steered them through a sleepy downtown. “Part of it used to be a buffalo paddock.”
Olivia nodded silently, concentrating on ignoring how familiar it felt to be riding in a car with him.
It was almost noon and there were a fair number of pedestrians walking through the quaint movie-set-like downtown, Devon getting waves from other drivers and pedestrians alike as they passed. She noticed she received long looks of curiosity, and so far the town was almost exactly like Devon had described it in college. Cute and nosy.
“Do people here know about us?” Olivia asked.
She watched Devon out of the corner of her eye as his grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“No.”
“Nobody?” She felt affronted. Not even his family? She’d mattered that little to him? All those hours worrying about him after their breakup had been for naught?
“Just Ginger.” Ginger had been Olivia’s roommate in college and knew pretty much every sordid detail Olivia had kept from everyone else. “Blueberry Springs is open to outside business and industry.”
He was trying to change the subject, obviously, but she couldn’t let it go.
“Not even your parents know we dated?”
“Well, Mary Alice just figured it out, so it should be across town by now.” Devon tried for a smile, a joke. Yeah, she wasn’t feeling it. She wasn’t in the mood to have her personal life and past impact why she was here. It was about the All You line and nothing else.
“We don’t have factories here,” Devon continued, “but it’s not out of the question to build one if you needed one close to the plant source. Mandy bakes and distributes a ton of brownies out of town each week without issue.”
“Your sister, Mandy?”
Devon nodded.
Olivia still remembered the woman’s brownies—well, Mandy had been a teen when she’d sent care packages to her brother across the continent—and Olivia had been the lucky recipient of many shared, mouthwatering treats.
Those were good times and her heart started to warm as memories flooded her, but she clamped down on the feeling, choosing instead to remember how it had all ended. She wasn’t getting hurt again, and Devon had a way of loosening reality, convincing her to be someone different. Someone free.
A few minutes later they pulled into a small gravel parking lot at the edge of a massive meadow. Mountains loomed like old stone warriors beyond, laced with hiking trails that led off into forests and up hillsides. A river flowed past to the left and not an inch of asphalt was to be seen anywhere. Basically, it was a beautiful place to hike, not show up in high heels looking for a modern day miracle.
Olivia stayed put as Devon climbed out, after patting the only dust-free part of his dashboard and she assumed it was some sort of superstitious tradition left over from his car racing days.
“I’m not dressed for a hike,” she said, when he leaned back in with athletic ease, grinning at her, his enthusiasm sparking her hope.
He tipped his head toward the meadow. In the distance, she could make out worn tire tracks marking the more northerly perimeter. “It’s close and it’s flat. You’ll want to see this, trust me. Oh, and careful with the door handle—it’s finicky.”
Get in. Get out.
What if this was it?
“What is it we’re looking for?” she called through his open door.
“Come see. Your stabilizing agents covers the whole meadow with blooms from the end of June right through to September.”
Knowing she was about to ruin her shoes, her ankles or both, she climbed out with a sigh, leaving Mr. Right in the vehicle. The loose gravel immediately sent her wobbling as she tried to stay vertical on what amounted to marbles. She’d dressed like a businesswoman expecting a meeting, not a hike. She’d wanted to ensure that Devon took her seriously, treated her like the manager she was, not an ex-girlfriend he could sway with a wink and a smile.
“Want to borrow a pair of sneakers?” Devon asked, glancing into his car. She took in the gym bag Mr. Right had claimed as a bed—the item she suspected was responsible for the vehicle’s “eau de man” scent—and shook her head.
She gingerly followed Devon through the parking lot and down a dirt trail littered with large stones, grateful to discover oddly spaced, occasional spots to land her heels. As they walked, the parking lot behind them began to fill with nature-seekers heading off on hikes, their vehicles hybrids or small cars suitable for saving Planet Earth from extra pollution. They were part of her future market. She was in the thick of it, and she felt her steps become buoyed.
As the head of public relations at Carrington Cosmetics, she knew it was time for the company to own up, step up. Take the lead when it came to protecting the environment, as well as the health of their customers. And her new line, which she’d been working on as a side project after wearing her father down, would do both. Yes, it was expensive and risky and sometimes confusing, but the payoff could be huge, her sense of accomplishment unrivaled.
Her chest thrummed with excitement as she tottered after Devon. He hung back to urge her to go faster. To spite him, she stopped, tipping her head back so she could inhale the clean, fresh air. It smelled like pine and water. Around her, birds were singing, calling to one another. Beautiful.
“We have a meeting in fifteen minutes,” Devon said, “but we’ll never make it if you don’t hustle.”
“If you’d told me we’d be hiking,” she said, staggering as her heels sank into the path again, making her purse fall off her shoulder, “I would have chosen different footwear.”
“Where did you think you’d find valerian? In a window box?”
“Valerian?” She stopped walking once more, and her heart clenched with disappointment. They’d already tested all varieties known to man. It was a wonderful natural antibacterial and stabilizing agent, but not quite suitable for her needs.
She’d just wasted a day of her life, as well as ruined a perfectly good pair of heels, for something her scientists had already looked into. That was just like Devon. Draw her in with a dream, cause her to forget to check reality, then dash those dreams when her hopes were at their highest. She should have known. She should have asked more questions before driving out to the middle of nowhere.
Wouldn’t she ever learn?
Devon pointed up to the surrounding hills. “The dam is going to go there.”
“The dam?”
“Yeah. It’s slated to wipe out this meadow, which is full of valerian. Carrington can not only stop that da
m from being built, but can find the plants they need to create a stable product. Win-win.”
So there was his angle. He needed her to stop a dam. She’d known he was up to something and she’d still trotted right along after him.
“Sorry, I can’t help.” She tucked her cardigan, which was much too thin for the brisk breeze, tightly around her. A dam there would indeed flood the whole meadow and the hikers that had arrived after them would have nowhere to go, and the town below would be under constant threat from a breaking dam, the beautiful vistas tainted by concrete walls and power lines.
But that wasn’t her problem. Creating a longer shelf life for an all-natural lipstick was.
She turned, starting the daunting walk back, her heels sinking into the earth with an irregularity that made her teeter like a drunk. Devon reached out and caught her just as her ankle rolled, righting her again and sending a hot current of need straight up her arm as they connected. She jerked out of his grasp. She didn’t want his help, didn’t want him touching her. And she most definitely didn’t want him edging his way back into her life as she suspected he might still have the power to do.
It was a good thing he’d brought her out to look at the wrong plant. Now she could go home and shake this off. Live her life. Without him.
“Where are you going?” Devon asked.
“To go play golf with my father. We already tested valerian.”
“This variety isn’t in the plant guides.”
“I’m sure my very thorough scientists have already tried it.” She attempted to stride away, wishing she could walk faster.
Such a waste of time.
“Here.” He caught up to her, handing her a bloom. “Test it. I’m certain it’s different than anything you’ve tried.”
She took the flower, waving it at him, frustrated at how easily she’d allowed herself to be sucked in. Like her father said, you didn’t build a company on hopes. “We need to test the roots. The whole plant, not just a bloom or two. And even if this valerian is different and useful, I need about a million of these. All year long. Not just a meadow of them.” She softened her tone, knowing he’d meant well in bringing her out here. Her foul mood was about her past failures, the way she’d hurt him, not his current attempt to help her. Help she didn’t even deserve, after shutting him out and breaking his heart. “I’m sorry, Devon.”
