by Devney Perry
“Do you ever wonder?” she asked.
“Wonder what?”
“Wonder what if? What would have happened if he hadn’t left you in Vegas?”
“No.” My answer was definite and true. I had always guarded against picturing what our nine years could have been.
“Don’t start now,” she warned.
Damn it, Steffie. Her words had the exact opposite effect.
In a flash, unwanted images assailed my mind.
I saw Nick at my graduation from Yale, standing in the crowd next to my family, clapping loudly and whistling as I walked across the stage and received my diploma.
I pictured him dropping me off at the small college in town every morning where I was getting my teaching degree.
And I saw a beautiful little boy chasing a German Shepherd puppy. His dark hair was the exact color of Nick’s but he had my gray eyes. The boy’s little sister played on the grass, her auburn hair curled at the ends, just like her daddy’s.
The clarity of the images made them almost real.
And just that more painful.
“I’m going to let you go,” I told Steffie, choking out the words past my tightening throat.
I hung up the phone, then squeezed my eyes shut, clutching a hand to my heart. Using every bit of mental power I had, I pushed out those wistful images until all I saw was black.
There were some things I couldn’t endure.
The chime of my doorbell woke me from a dead sleep.
Shooting out of bed, I glanced at the clock. It was only six in the morning. Considering I knew very few people in Prescott and even fewer knew where I lived, my early morning visitor was likely Nick.
After shrugging on my black floral-print silk robe, I stomped down the stairs and threw open the door. “It’s six in the morning. You said you’d see me tomorrow. It’s not tomorrow yet. Go away.”
He chuckled, then pushed his way inside.
“You could have at least brought coffee,” I said, following him to the kitchen.
Heading straight to the counter, he wordlessly grabbed a scotcheroo and took a huge bite.
Last night after he had left, I’d gone crazy and eaten three. The butterscotch chocolate layer on top of the peanut-butter-coated crispy cereal was delicious and addicting.
But consuming that much sugar at six o’clock in the morning could not be good for you. Though, Nick didn’t seem like the type of guy who really cared about health foods and fad diets. With all those muscles to burn off the calories, he could probably eat as many sweets as he wanted.
“Breakfast of champions?” I asked.
His mouth formed a crooked grin while he chewed.
“I’m making coffee,” I said.
Perusing my extensive mug collection, I picked one of my favorites. It read:
DO NOT READ THE NEXT SENTENCE.
You little rebel. I like you.
Grinning, I moved to my Keurig. I was so focused on the filling coffee mug that I almost missed Nick’s footsteps as he invaded the space at my back. My muscles locked in place, not needing to turn around to know he was close.
Too close.
The space around me warmed and his amazing scent filled my nostrils. He must have just showered because the spicy, fresh scent of his soap lingered all around him. It was the perfect mixture of nutmeg and orange peel.
Nick’s smell, combined with the fragrant coffee, was relaxing. So relaxing that I almost leaned back into his chest. Almost. I snapped out of my trance. What was wrong with me? Why had I just stood there and let Nick invade my space?
Because it was six in the morning. That and I was bat-shit crazy. That’s why.
Ducking around him, I went back to my cabinet to get him a coffee mug.
“Coffee?” I asked.
He nodded and I felt his hazel eyes on my back as I made him his coffee. After I handed him his full mug, I walked around the island, using it as a barrier between us.
His mug was black with nothing on the outside. The only decoration was inside at the bottom, where it read You’ve been poisoned in small white letters. I was looking forward to seeing his reaction when he reached the bottom.
I had used that mug on my father many times, always enjoying the nervous look he’d give me when his cup had been finished.
After taking a few sips, Nick finally spoke. “We’re going on a hike.”
“A hike? I’ve never hiked before,” I said.
“Today’s your day. The weather is going to change soon so this is one of the last weekends to explore the mountains. I figured you probably haven’t done much of that, city girl. But don’t worry, you’ll like it.”
“Shouldn’t we wait until it gets a bit warmer? It’s barely light out. To me, a hike says ‘afternoon.’ Not predawn.”
“We’ve got things to do first,” he said. “We’re going to breakfast at the café. Then we need to pick up a couple of sandwiches for lunch. After that, we’ll hit the mountain.” I opened my mouth to protest but he talked right over me. “No arguments. You’ve got time to shower and get changed. Make sure you wear something warm. It will be colder up where we’re headed than it is down here.”
“Fine,” I grumbled.
After refilling my coffee mug, I walked up the stairs. Just as I was stepping off the top step, Nick’s rich laughter filled the floor below me. My heart stuttered and I smiled at the sound. He must have seen the bottom of his cup.
I really liked that mug.
My future ex-husband was evil.
The bastard had probably used this hiking ploy as a way to get women into bed countless times over the years. Because at this very moment, I was so turned on I couldn’t do much more than put one foot in front of the other.
I had been trudging after Nick on the mountain trail for over an hour. Every time I looked up, my eyes immediately landed on his sculpted behind.
For years, I had thought that no man’s ass could look as good as Logan’s did in his tailored suits.
Well, I had been quite wrong.
Nick’s ass kicked Logan’s ass.
The Carhartt pants he was wearing weren’t tight, but their cut highlighted all of the rounded and muscled contours of his butt. Who knew tan canvas pants could be so sexy?
Just staring at his ass had my whole body buzzing. All I wanted to do was reach out and grab a handful. But what I needed to do was stop thinking about Nick’s ass.
I hated that I was still insanely attracted to him.
“You doing okay back there?” Nick called over his shoulder.
“Great!” I lied, looking up into his smirking face. He had totally just caught me checking him out.
Shit.
“How much farther?” I asked, trying not to appear guilty.
“We’re just about there. Ten minutes, maybe?”
“Is this place a favorite of yours?”
“Yeah. It’s got a great view of the Jamison Valley. And the hike itself is fairly easy. Didn’t want to take you on anything too difficult this first time.”
“Easy. Right.” I had been huffing and puffing for twenty minutes. My thighs were burning and my calves were balled tight. My body hadn’t worked this hard in years.
I was lucky to have a petite frame and fast metabolism, which meant that I hadn’t stepped into a gym since college. And even then, it had been to ogle the football team with Steffie. As long as I didn’t go crazy with junk food, I was able to maintain my figure without much exercise.
True to his word, Nick soon veered off the trail and we maneuvered through the trees to a large opening in front of a rock cliff.
When my eyes took in the sight before me, tingles traveled through my limbs.
Magic.
Jamison Valley was located in southwestern Montana, and from this position we could see forever. Nick even showed me where Yellowstone National Park started in the distance.
Prescott’s brown buildings were tiny from up here. The aerial view allowed me to see how the
town filled the space along the Jamison River. Miles away was another indigo mountain range towering over the golden plains between us. The evergreens around the rock cliff stood tall. Their green color provided a stunning contrast to the cloudless, light blue sky above.
“Pretty view,” Nick said.
“Montana is not ugly.”
Chuckling, he asked, “You want some coffee?”
I nodded and followed him to a bare spot on the ground where we both sat, facing the breathtaking view. From his backpack, he produced a large thermos and two cups. With coffee in hand, this had just become my favorite place on earth.
I pulled out my phone and snapped a few photos. They were good but no picture could do the scenery justice.
Taking a few deep breaths, I thought of all the words to describe the incredible mountain air. Clean. Stony. Light. There was nothing else like it.
“Are you cold? Your nose is a little red,” Nick said, reaching out a finger to gently touch my face.
“No,” I said, leaning away. “I’m good.”
The steaming coffee was doing wonders to warm my nose and cheeks, the only cold parts of my body. The air was cold and crisp but the added layers of my clothing were definitely keeping me warm. Almost too warm. My sweaty hair was sticking to my scalp under my fleece hat.
We sat quietly, enjoying the view, until Nick started asking questions about my past. “You told me that you weren’t going to be able to be a teacher. That you had to work for your dad. What changed?”
“After I graduated from Yale, I went to work for him for almost seven years,” I said.
“What did you do?”
“My job was to make connections with potential high-dollar donors and convince them that they should give to whichever political candidate we were promoting at the time.”
“Hmm. How did you do that? Make connections,” he asked.
“I spent a lot of time researching them and their families. Basically, I had to act like a stalker. I would befriend their personal assistants so I could have access to their private schedules. Then I’d casually bump into them in restaurants or at other charity events. If their kids had programs or concerts, I would be sure to go, then lie and say I was there for my nonexistent nieces and nephews.”
“That doesn’t sound like you, Emmy.”
“Emmeline. And it wasn’t. It was my father. I was his puppet. Whatever he needed me to do, I did. Until he betrayed me and I quit.”
“He betrayed you? How?”
Only two people knew this story. I’d kept it a secret from everyone except my mother and Logan. Steffie and I never talked about Austin Capital, and my other friends weren’t to be trusted, but I felt safe telling Nick. He wouldn’t leak it to the press for a quick buck or gossip about it behind my back.
“An important donor called my father to lodge a complaint about one of my employees, Tiffany. The donor told my father that she had promised sexual favors in return for a significant donation. When I confronted her about it, she confessed but told me it was at my father’s personal instruction. That he had told her to do it.”
“Did he?” Nick asked.
“He swore up and down that Tiffany was lying. To this day, I can’t believe I actually thought he was telling me the truth. But I did believe him and I cleaned up the mess. Tiffany agreed to a large severance in return for her promise never to sue or slander the company.”
“That’s why you quit? You found out he was lying?”
“No,” I said. “He was lying but that isn’t why I quit. A month later, I was at a gala with Logan. The donor that had complained to my father walked up and started accusing me of basically being a whore. I remember standing there speechless, stunned and having no idea what he was talking about. Thankfully, Logan jumped in and got the whole story.”
“Which was?”
“My father had blamed the entire Tiffany incident on me. He said that I was the one encouraging her to make sexual advances and that he knew nothing about it. He had even hinted that I started dating Logan to gain access to the Kendrick fortune. But that’s why I quit. He saw a situation where his professional reputation might have been tarnished, and instead of owning his mistake, he falsely blamed it all on his daughter.”
His personal reputation was questionable but professionally, my father had always been the epitome of a respected businessman. Lies. All lies, but he was good at telling them. He had to be in order to make the money he was so grossly fond of.
“But there’s a bright side,” I said. “It was the push I needed to break free. I hated it anyway. The best day I ever had at Austin Capital was the day I packed up my office and turned in my security badge.”
“Then you went back to school?” Nick asked.
“Yes. I started classes the next semester. Since I already had my undergraduate degree, I only had to go for two years. Then I happened upon the Mustangs and here I am.”
After a few moments of silence, Nick said, “Not a fan of your father.”
“Me either.” I laughed.
Growing up, I had always tried to please him. But no matter what I did, he had always been disappointed in me. Nothing had ever been good enough. Not my perfect grades. Not my exemplary volunteer work. Nothing. It took me a long time to realize that I wasn’t the disappointment. He was.
“Is he the reason why you left New York? Couldn’t you have just gotten a teaching job there?” Nick asked.
“I wouldn’t say my father was the reason but he was certainly the catalyst. I’m sure I could have found a job there, but it was time for a change. Time for me to just be me. Emmeline Austin. Not the Emmeline Austin, everything there is about money and prestige. You’re measured by your social standing and the number of times you hit the society pages. I didn’t want to live that life anymore.”
“Do you miss it? The city?” Nick asked.
“I miss a few things. Logan, mainly. I miss my restaurant. Twenty-four-hour dry cleaning. Hot dog street vendors. But other than that, it feels good to be living a simpler life. New York can be a cold place for those in the spotlight.”
“You don’t miss your friends?” he asked.
“No,” I scoffed. “Most of my ‘friends’ haven’t spoken to me since I left.”
“What about those girls you were with in Vegas? What happened to them?”
“Marian moved to Los Angeles and we lost touch. Alice lives in the city, but we were both so career focused after Yale, we lost touch too,” I said. “Though, apparently, she’s been keeping tabs on Logan.”
“What about the other one? The one with the, uh, implants?”
I choked on my coffee. “Steffie? We’re still friends. Our relationship is . . . different. About six months before I quit working for my father, I went over to his penthouse unannounced. Guess who he had naked and bent over the back of his couch?”
“Steffie?”
“I still gag when I think about it. Things were awkward at first but we’ve been able to stay friends regardless of her relationship with my father.”
“Interesting,” he said sarcastically.
“Things have always been a bit unconventional at the Austin estate.”
“What about your mother?” he asked.
“She lives in Italy. Shortly after I graduated from high school, she moved there with her Italian boyfriend, Alesso. She started having an affair with him when I was sixteen. When his work visa expired, she decided to move to Italy with him permanently.”
“She was cheating on your father?”
“Oh, yes,” I said. “For as long as I can remember, they were married while both carried on blatantly public affairs. They only just got divorced five years ago.”
“Fuck. That’s a lot of drama,” Nick said when my storytelling was over.
“You are not wrong.”
We sat quietly for a while, then wandered slowly down the trail and ate sandwiches in the back of his truck before Nick drove me home.
“Thanks. I enjoyed t
he hike.”
We were standing by my front door and I was pulling out my keys, mentally preparing to ask him why he had left me. I had decided on the drive back that his time was up. He had promised me an explanation and had yet to give it.
All day long we had visited and not once had he broached the subject. He’d learned plenty about my life today but shared little about his.
So this afternoon I was demanding answers. And I wanted it to happen here in my home, my own private place where I felt safe to have whatever emotional reaction I needed.
“Nick, I need you to—” I was interrupted by the soft brush of his lips on mine.
For a second, all of my thoughts were consumed by how wonderful his lips felt. How, for years, I had longed to feel them again, even after swearing to hate this man for breaking my heart.
But that second passed. I could not allow Nick to kiss me. I wasn’t his. I belonged to Logan. A loyal, handsome, brilliant man who had not broken my heart.
Turning my head to the side, I broke contact before planting one hand on his chest and shoving him back. “No.”
“Emmy.”
“Emmeline!”
“Emmy. You’ll always be my Emmy.”
“I’m not your anything, Nick.”
“You’re my wife.”
“A paper certificate does not make me your wife,” I said.
His frame deflated and his eyes filled with regret. “Forgive me. Give us a chance. We have something here and you know I’m right.”
“There is no us. And how can I forgive you? You haven’t even told me why.”
“And if I do?”
“I don’t know. I may forgive you but that doesn’t erase the pain. I gave you my heart and you betrayed my trust. Your explanation may heal some of those past wounds but we have no future. Logan is my future.”
His gentleness evaporated. “He’s not your future. I am. Because your heart still belongs to me.”
“What? Are you crazy?” I gasped.
“You are mine. You are my wife.”
“You are crazy.”
“You don’t want him. It’s all just in your head because you’re mad at me. Your face doesn’t light up when he calls, not like it does when you look at me. You talk about what you two do but not how he makes you feel. And if you really loved him, no way in hell you’d stay married to me for nine years. You could have gotten that divorce a fuck of a long time ago.”
