by Melody Grace
“It’s all this work you’re doing.” Riley’s voice was deep and soothing. “Your brain needs to rest, too, if you’re going to sleep.”
“Believe me, I’ve tried.” Brooke smiled to hear him, like he was right there with her. “I tried leaving my laptop at the office, I tried making my bedroom a no-tech zone. I even tried a sleep seminar, where we all did deep breathing exercises and imagined floating off on a sea of wispy clouds.”
Riley chuckled. “I’m trying to picture you relaxing. I bet you treated it like a competition.”
“Hey!” Brooke protested. “I can relax. And yes, I was the best in class.”
She threw off the covers and stretched, yawning. It was a warm night, and her windows were open, but even the distant sound of the waves hadn’t sent her off to sleep.
“So what are you wearing?” Riley’s tone turned cheeky.
“Excuse me?” Brooke faked offense, even as her stomach flipped over.
“Being too hot or cold can stop you sleeping,” he explained, with laughter in his voice. “I’m just trying to help you out here.”
“Of course you are.” Brooke smiled. “For your information, I’m wearing a tank top and sleep shorts. Light and comfortable.”
“Cute.”
“Are you still at work?” she asked, thinking of those women at the bar.
“Just walking home now.”
Alone.
For some reason, the thought made Brooke grin. “To your boat.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You don’t ever get seasick?”
“Nah, the water’s pretty calm. There was a storm last winter, kicked up some real waves, but I hung in there OK.”
“Lucky you,” Brooke said. “My old job, they took us all out on a cruise on the river. It was supposed to be a team-building thing, but I spent the whole trip hanging over the side, vomiting.”
She stopped. Vomit wasn’t exactly the most attractive mental image, but Riley didn’t seem to mind. He chuckled. “Aww, don’t worry. Those bigger boats are bad, but my girl is a smooth ride. I’ll take you out sometime, and you’ll see.”
“Just bring a bucket,” Brooke warned.
“It’s a date.”
Brooke caught her breath. Date, or . . . Date?
“So are you going to tell me about this big event of yours?” Riley continued, so smoothly Brooke felt silly for picking over the meaning of his words.
“I would, but I’m sworn to secrecy,” she said. “Seriously, I think they’d sue.”
“Well, I know a great lawyer if you need one,” Riley replied.
“Don’t even joke.” Brooke yawned, loud enough for him to hear.
“How long has it been now since you had a decent night’s sleep?”
“Ugh.” Brooke didn’t even want to think about it. “I got four hours last night . . . a couple the night before. I don’t understand it,” she sighed. “Some nights, I zone out the minute I hit the pillow, and others, I’m lying awake for hours counting the cracks on my bedroom ceiling.”
“Has it been going on long?”
“Just a few months,” Brooke replied. “Since I moved here.”
“Maybe you’re still adjusting to the change.”
“Maybe.”
Brooke didn’t say, but she knew the real reason for her insomnia, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out. She hadn’t slept through the night since finding out the truth about Archer. It was the guilt still keeping her awake—the guilt, and shame, and whole tangle of heartache.
But she didn’t want to dwell on it now, so she changed the subject. “Tell me about yourself,” she said instead, getting out of bed.
“With pleasure,” Riley replied. “It’s my favorite subject. What do you want to know?”
“Hmm,” Brooke padded barefoot out of her bedroom. “Siblings?”
“One. Brother. Max. He’s the lawyer I was talking about,” Riley replied. “You’d like him. He’s a stickler for details. You?”
“Only child. I’m their sole source of disappointment.”
“C’mon, I don’t believe that. They’ve got to be proud of you.”
“I guess . . .” Brooke grabbed a blanket from the couch and opened the front door. She sat on the steps, breathing in the sweet scent of the night-flowering jasmine, looking out at the pitch-black bay. “But my mom wants grandkids, so I’m failing her in that department so far. She was already married at my age. They’re still together, going on forty years now.”
“Mine are the same,” Riley said. “High school sweethearts, if you can believe it.”
“That’s nice.” Brooke leaned back against the stair post, snuggling deeper in her blanket. “You think they knew, what they were getting into? Or do you just make the leap and figure it out along the way?”
“You know,” Riley said, his voice husky. “When it’s real, you know.”
“I love staging weddings at the hotel,” Brooke found herself admitting. “I mean, I tell everyone it’s good business, and it is, but there’s more than that, too. I get to give them a day they’ll remember for the rest of their lives. I mean, maybe they won’t remember what color the napkins were, or if the balloons were pink or gold, but they remember how they felt, just starting out on the rest of their lives together. It’s special, being a part of that. Seeing them say their vows and mean every word. It helps me remember that kind of love really exists out there.”
Brooke stopped. What was she doing, going on about marriage and commitment with a guy who probably changed women as often as he changed his socks? “I’m keeping you up,” she said.
“It’s OK. I’m a night owl,” Riley said. “Comes with the territory, at the pub.”
Along with hoards of admiring cuties, Brooke silently added.
“I should try to get some sleep,” she said reluctantly.
“Want me to come tuck you in?” he asked, teasing, but Brooke gulped at the thought.
Sleeping would be the last thing on the menu with Riley in her bed.
“That depends,” she answered lightly, “Do you snore?”
“Not that I’ve heard,” Riley replied. “But I steal all the covers.”
“Then it’s a no from me.”
“Shame,” Riley drawled, low enough for Brooke to shiver. “But good luck.”
“I’ll need it.”
“And I mean it, you need to relax,” Riley added. “Take some time off work, unwind. That brain of yours needs to switch off sometime.”
“Maybe.” Brooke headed back inside. “After this big wedding is done.”
“And when’s that?”
“A few weeks.”
Riley groaned. “That’s no good. You’re going to be a zombie soon.”
“Think I could win Pooch Day?” Brooke teased. She yawned, finally feeling tired now. “OK, I’m really going to try this time. I’ve got my sleep mask and earplugs and everything.”
“Just lie back and imagine you’re on vacation,” Riley suggested. “Palm trees, white sand, me rubbing in your lotion.”
Brooke laughed. He really was incorrigible. “Goodnight, Riley.”
“Goodnight, Brooke.”
She hung up and hid her phone in a drawer, far out of reach. Still, his voice lingered in her mind, that seductive whiskey drawl. She lay back and closed her eyes, just like he’d told her to. Tropical sands . . . a clear ocean . . . and him. His hands smoothing over her skin, slowly caressing . . .
Brooke groaned, her body suddenly wound tight and alert.
Now how was she supposed to sleep with an image like that in her mind?
10
Brooke finally got her wish. She slept the whole night through—but with dreams of Riley dancing temptingly in her mind. By the time she woke, early Saturday morning, she was a pent-up ball of frustration and desire, haunted by the sensual fantasies that still lingered, just out of reach.
Couldn’t a sleep-deprived girl catch a break around here?
She pulled on a
pair of workout shorts and her sports bra, and laced up her sneakers, feeling determined. Clearly, soothing herself into sleep wasn’t working, so she would just have to try the opposite tactic: sheer exhaustion. If she pushed herself to the limit all day long, then her brain would have to shut down eventually. Right?
She took off along the coastal road, her feet pounding the concrete. It was a gorgeous summer’s morning, with a clear blue sky and white-topped waves, and it felt good to be out, so she detoured down to the beach to run along the damp sand. The wide, windswept shore was empty this early, just a couple of people out walking their dogs and some optimistic surfers bobbing out in the freezing waters. As the miles disappeared behind her, Brooke’s mind finally cleared. She felt her body stretch, and her lungs burned as she gulped the salty breeze.
She needed to forget him.
Moving here had been the right step, but it was no good putting a thousand miles between her and Archer if she still carried him in her heart. Not tenderly, not anymore, but the hurt and betrayal still took up just as much space, burning with unanswered questions and blame.
She was never going to move on by holding so tightly to the past.
One of these days, she was going to have to forgive herself for believing him.
Brooke finally stopped, bending double as she gasped for air. Her heart was pounding so loud it thundered in her mind, but still it wasn’t enough to push the whispers away.
She should have known better. She should have seen the signs.
Brooke let out a noise of frustration that was swallowed by the wind.
She was so used to getting it right. In school, she’d been a straight-A student, working long hours on her assignments until she got those perfect scores. In college, she’d planned her schedule and kept careful watch on her GPA, secured all the best internships so she could graduate with her career right on track. She planned and put the hours in, taking care with every last detail to earn those glowing reviews, because she wanted to do it right—not to be the best, but to be the best she could be.
She’d thought Archer was right. The perfect match. They’d been so good together—right up until the moment her feet had been knocked out from under her.
What had she missed?
Brooke straightened up, her heart rate slowing now. She stood, looking out at the bay and the wide expanse of blue.
Maybe she’d never know. Maybe she could go back over every last memory and see nothing out of place. No hints she should have registered, no red flags to send her running for the hills. She’d been careful, she’d taken it slow, and still, his lies had slipped past her with all the ring of the truth.
Maybe he was just that good.
After all, she wasn’t the only one who’d fallen for his lines. His wife had believed them, too. Every night he was working late, every business trip out of town. Brooke’s heart ached remembering the look on Julia’s face as she’d stood there on the doorstep—her anger giving way to misery when she’d realized that Brooke wasn’t some ruthless temptress, but a dupe, just like her.
“How did I not see this happening, right under my nose?” she’d despaired, and now Brooke felt the same way. They’d been blinded by love and hope for the future that Archer had promised them. Dazzled by the illusion, until the spell was broken and the mirage faded away.
Brooke took a deep breath, and then another.
She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. Looking for answers, when the truth was there was nothing Archer could ever offer to explain. What could he say to her now? I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.
Or, worse still, You made it easy, you were such a fool.
None of it would change a thing. No, that part was down to her now. She had to start letting it go.
She took another breath and started running again. This time, towards home.
BY THE TIME Brooke arrived back at those blue gates marking home, she was a sweaty, exhausted mess. But something felt lighter, that knot in her chest unraveled a little more loosely. She could do this, moving on. No more dwelling on a past she couldn’t change now. She was going to face forward and let herself off the hook, with—
“Riley?” Brooke stopped short. He was sitting on her steps, golden and easy in the morning sun. “What are you . . . ?” She fumbled for words, her mind suddenly flooded with all the hot, illicit dreams she’d been having. Her face burned. “I didn’t expect . . . I mean . . .” Brooke grasped for a simple greeting. “Hi.”
“Hey there.” Riley slowly unfolded his limbs and got to his feet, that irresistible smile taking her in. “Good run?”
“Yes. Hard.” Brooke gulped. She pushed back her sweaty mess of hair, wishing she didn’t look such a wreck. “I’m following your advice, trying to wear myself out.”
Riley chuckled. “Yeah, that’s not what I said. My advice was to relax and have a good time. So, it’s a good thing I’m here to teach you my tricks.”
“You have tricks?” Brooke repeated, smiling.
“You bet, baby.” Riley grinned back, and God, that smile should be illegal. “Come sailing. We can drop anchor by a beach, lie out in the sun . . . It’s impossible to stay stressed out on the water.”
Brooke paused, torn. It did sound incredibly relaxing, and the thought of spending the day with Riley was more tempting than she’d like to admit. “I was going to work,” she said, reluctant.
“It’s the weekend, c’mon,” Riley urged her. “This is probably the last chance you’ll get to switch off before that top-secret project of yours gets rolling. You need to have some fun.”
Brooke paused, but there was really no contest. Spend her day at the hotel, solving every crisis in sight, or out on the water with this fine specimen of a man?
“OK, I’m in.”
“Damn right you are.” Riley looked pleased. “Go grab your things, I already stopped by the bakery, so I’ve got a basket full of goodies.”
“That’s what all the guys say.” Brooke found herself winking as she skipped past him and up the stairs. Riley’s surprised laughter followed her inside. Then she shut the door and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
Oh God! No wonder he was laughing, she looked like she’d just run a marathon—in no makeup and her oldest sweats.
Brooke barreled for the bathroom, taking the quickest shower in the history of mankind. In ten minutes, she was back out on her porch, dressed in her bikini and some cut-offs, with a cool linen shirt tied up around her stomach. “All set,” she said, trying to ignore the flip of excitement she felt, bouncing down to meet him.
This wasn’t a date.
This wasn’t anything at all.
Liar.
RILEY DROVE them the short distance to Sweetbriar Cove, chatting easily about his conversion to a life off solid land. “It was an impulse buy,” he said, glancing over to Brooke. “But the best things always are.”
“Wait, you bought a boat without even knowing how to sail?” She blinked. “That’s crazy! Don’t you plan anything in your life at all?”
Riley shrugged. “What’s there to plan? You just trust your instincts, and everything will work out OK in the end.”
There it was again: the same question Brooke had been grappling with for months now. “I don’t know about that,” she replied. “My instincts don’t have the best record lately.”
“Ah. Yeah.” Riley made a face. “But that wasn’t the end, was it?” He shot her an encouraging look. “You’re still standing, aren’t you?”
“Just about.”
“Then there you go. As my friend Poppy would say, there’s plenty of pages in your story yet. Actually, she’d never say that,” he added. “I’m the one cracking bad novelist puns.”
Brooke smiled again. There was just something about his upbeat personality that was infectious: bulletproof optimism, even after he’d had his own share of betrayals. She could learn a thing or two from him, she decided as they wound along the coastal road. Starting with how to actually unwind
for a change, and leave all her stress and worry behind.
He was right. She deserved a little fun.
They arrived at the small harbor, where the seafood shack already had a morning crowd and a couple of guys sat fishing off the pier. Brooke looked around eagerly, trying to figure out which boat was his.
“Now, she’s not the sleekest schooner on the water,” Riley warned her as he retrieved a cooler and picnic basket from the trunk. “But she gets the job done.”
“I have zero experience with boats,” Brooke laughed, hoisting up her tote bag of summer essentials. “As long as we don’t sink, I’m good.”
“That, I can do.” Riley led her down the jetty, to where an old, charming sailboat sat bobbing on the tide. “Here she is, my one and only.”
“She looks great.” Brooke took in the blue paint and sleek white cabin. The sails were white with a blue trim, and the old wood looked weathered—but sturdy. “Week of Sundays,” she read the script painted in red on the bow.
“My philosophy on life.” Riley loaded the bags onto the deck. “Now, you’ve got your sunscreen?”
“Check.”
“Shades?”
Brooke rifled through her bag. “Check.”
“Cellphone?”
She nodded. “Never let it out of my sight.”
“Wrong answer. This is a work-free zone,” Riley informed her, mock-stern. “No phones allowed.”
Brooke laughed, and made to move past him, but he held out his hand, waiting for her phone. “I’m not kidding. How are you going to switch off and relax if you’re checking messages all day long?”
“But what if something happens?” Brooke blinked. She felt anxious just at the thought. “I always say they can reach me 24/7 in an emergency.”
“They’ll live. It’s just a few hours,” he reassured her. “Come on, live a little.”
Brooke wavered, still clutching her phone tightly. But the invitation in Riley’s eyes was too good to resist. She reluctantly handed it to him. “Be careful with that thing,” she warned him, watching as he stashed it in a small lockbox on the dock along with his keys. “My whole life is in there.”
“Then we need to get you a new one.” Riley climbed on board and held out his hand to help her. Brooke stepped cautiously onto the deck, feeling the gentle shift and roll of the waves. She was worried about her less-than-stellar history on the ocean, but this seemed calm enough.
