by Lily Everett
“Hazards of a whirlwind romance. Address?”
Two minutes later, Miles was racing down Island Road and feeling grateful that Greta’s family store was so close to his family’s vacation home.
He ran up Main Street and paused to catch his breath in front of Hackley’s Hardware. The Hackley family owned the whole building—hardware store downstairs, and a couple of apartments upstairs. Greta lived in one.
And her mother, Esther, lived in the other.
When Miles pushed his way into the shop, he wasn’t surprised to find Esther waiting for him behind the counter, as stern and impassive as one of the guards outside Buckingham Palace. But instead of red regimentals and a tall furry hat, she wore a floral cotton shirtdress, a white cardigan, and a forbidding expression.
Miles steeled himself and rolled up his sleeves. He had a feeling he’d have better luck getting past the queen’s Royal Guard, but he wasn’t leaving here without talking to Greta. “Where is she? I need to see her.”
“Greta didn’t tell me everything, but she told me enough. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t give a tinker’s damn what you need, Mr. Harrington,” Esther said serenely, flipping a page in her crossword book with vicious precision.
Resisting the urge to tear the building down with his bare hands to get to Greta, Miles called on years of experience in delicate, high-stakes business negotiations. God knew, the stakes had never been higher for him.
“Mrs. Hackley,” he started, sanding the rough edges off his voice. “There’s been a terrible misunderstanding. If I could just have a few minutes alone with your daughter, I’m sure we could work it out.”
“A misunderstanding.” Esther’s razor-sharp gaze raked over him, missing nothing. “So you didn’t deliberately set out to betray my daughter’s trust in the most despicably calculated fashion?”
Guilt surged like bile in the back of his throat, but Miles kept his body language open and accepting. “I can’t deny that when I met Greta, keeping my brother safe was at the top of my mind. Dylan … doesn’t have the greatest track record. I’ve had to deal with predatory women looking to score big off my baby brother’s frustration and loneliness. So you’re right, I was very deliberate and calculated in my efforts to avoid another heartbreak for my brother.”
Something flickered in Esther’s flat gaze, but if Miles had hoped that appealing to their shared trait of family protectiveness would get him anywhere, he was destined to be disappointed.
“Greta doesn’t want to see you,” Esther said with finality.
“I understand that.” Miles pulled up a rueful smile. “And I don’t blame her. But all I’m asking for is a chance to explain. I honestly believe that what I have to say will make Greta feel better—I’m not here to hurt her any worse than I already have.”
It was his last-ditch effort before he had to resort to wrestling an old lady to the ground and storming the castle. Miles held his breath.
Esther’s lined, careworn face never softened. She didn’t betray her thoughts or feelings by so much as the flicker of an eyelash, and Miles had the sudden, brief thought that he ought to hire her to run negotiations for him.
That, or ask her for poker lessons, because when she finally replied, it wasn’t the answer Miles had been expecting.
“Greta? Honey, come on out here.”
Every one of Miles’s senses went on high alert. She was here, listening?
A thump from the back office behind the counter drew Miles’s attention, and then there she was gripping the doorway and staring at Esther as if she’d never truly seen her mother before.
“Why?” Greta’s question, the pain in her voice, triggered an answering spasm of pain across Esther’s face.
She pivoted on her stool to face her daughter, but even in profile, Miles could see that her face was all softness now. “Oh, honey. You need to let him say his piece. Otherwise you’ll always wonder.”
Greta crossed her arms over her chest. So far, she had refused to meet Miles’s stare. “I don’t have to wonder. I already know he’s a low-down dirty snake.”
The words hit Miles like bullets to the chest, stealing his breath and opening up wounds he was afraid would never heal.
“I don’t know everything he promised you,” Esther said. “I don’t know how far back the lie goes. But honey, what if he’s telling the truth now?”
The help from an unexpected quarter made Miles stand up straighter, even though Greta was shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe her ears.
“Mama. After all the things you’ve done to keep me safe, all the risks you wouldn’t let me take—you want me to take a chance on him?”
The anguish and disbelief sliced at Miles. He stepped forward, impatient to get in there, to have his say and make Greta understand, but Esther stopped him with one quietly raised hand.
“No, Greta. I want you to take a chance on happiness,” she said, her breath catching. “All the things I did to keep you safe, the treatments and the surgery and keeping you home from college … they didn’t guarantee that you would be happy. In fact, I have never seen you as happy as you were this morning, waltzing back in here after that crazy, fool trip to New York on one of those death-trap helicopters.”
Esther took a deep breath as if to steady herself against the image, one hand pressing high enough on her chest to make Miles imagine that if she were wearing a string of pearls, she’d be clutching them.
“I already told you I was sorry about that,” Greta muttered. “It’ll never happen again, believe me.”
“You’re not listening to me,” Esther insisted. “I think—maybe somewhere along the way, when you were so sick, I lost sight of what we were doing it all for. Not just so that you would be healthy and keep breathing in and out, but so that you could go on to live an ecstatically happy life, full of laughter and adventures. And love.”
The L word froze Greta in her tracks, arms wrapped around herself and face turned carefully away from Miles. Esther took advantage of the moment to get down off her stool and give her unresisting daughter a fierce hug.
“Now then,” Esther said with a watery sniff. “I’m going to get out of here and let you two have some space to talk. I’ll turn the sign to Closed on my way out, so you won’t be disturbed. And Mr. Harrington?”
Miles jumped to attention. “Yes?”
Narrowing her eyes at him like a sniper sighting down a target, Esther shook her finger. “I’m happy to call one of my boys back home to help run the shop, or heck, even hire someone. But if you whisk my baby off to see the world without letting her say good-bye to me, I will hunt you down like a dog and shoot you myself.”
*
“Your mother is terrifying,” Miles said into the silence Mama left in her wake after marching out of the shop.
No, terrifying is being face-to-face with the man who broke my heart into tiny pieces and has come back for more.
“I don’t want to talk about my mother.” Greta licked her lips, which felt parched. She hadn’t let herself cry, but the tears were building up into a massive storm behind her eyes. “In fact, I don’t want to talk to you at all.”
“That’s fine,” Miles said, coming around the counter and looming over her. “You can listen instead.”
Greta flinched back, her poor, confused body caught between the still-fresh memories of the night before and the new caution signals her brain was frantically sending out.
His eyes darkened to the blue-gray of hurricane clouds, but he stopped where he was. “Greta.”
That was all, just her name. She breathed through the pain of being near him for a long, harrowing minute before it burst out of her in a spew of vitriol. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got for me? And after you worked so hard to persuade my mother to trust you … although, what am I even saying? You’re an expert at manipulation, I’m sure you didn’t even break a sweat.”
A muscle ticked in Miles’s jaw. “You have every right to be upset. I know this looks bad, b
ut…”
“Looks bad?” Greta pushed away from the office door, feeling trapped and needing to move. “It is bad, Miles.”
He made a frustrated noise and caught at her arm as she brushed past him. The veins stood out in his well-defined forearms, bared by the rolled cuffs of his crisp white shirt and dusted with light brown hair. Greta stared down at the place where they touched, the intersection of their bodies and the contrast between his large, blunt-fingered hand and her thin, bony wrist.
She remembered the way she’d felt under him, feminine and strong, with all the power of the body she’d struggled with all her life suddenly there at her fingertips and hers to command.
Turning her wrist in the circle of his fingers, Greta closed her eyes, overcome with exhaustion. “I can’t believe my first time was based on a lie.”
Miles dropped her wrist as if her skin burned him. “What?”
The loudness of his voice poked at her. Opening her eyes to glare at him, Greta said, “Don’t worry, I didn’t hold onto my virginity out of some misguided fantasy—okay, that’s actually a lie. It was partly because of that, which I’ll own, because that’s my own stupid fault for believing in fairy tales. But mostly I was a virgin because everyone around here looks at me and still sees a pale, sickly kid.”
Miles reached up with both arms as if he wanted to take her by the shoulders, but he checked himself. Greta told herself she was glad. She didn’t want him to touch her ever again.
“That’s not what I see when I look at you.” His rough voice sent unwanted shivers down the back of her neck.
“No,” she agreed, gazing up at him with anger twisting her belly into knots. “You saw a means to an end. An easy mark, so eager to be swept off my feet that I practically threw myself into your arms. I bet you were disappointed I wasn’t more of a challenge.”
“Nothing about you has ever disappointed me,” Miles said, urgency firing his voice. “And Greta, I know it might be hard for you to believe me right now, but you were an incredible challenge. In fact, I found it completely impossible to keep my mind on my goal when I was around you.”
“Stop it,” Greta whispered, turning away, but Miles wouldn’t let her. This time when he reached for her, he ran his hands up her arms with a light touch that nonetheless chained her to the spot.
“Yesterday was the best day of my life,” he said, staring into her eyes as if he were trying to read her thoughts. “And last night … God, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me it was your first time. If I hurt you…”
“You did hurt me,” Greta cried, pushed beyond her limits. “Not my stupid body, I wish everyone in the world would quit worrying about my body, it’s fine. But here, inside, the real me.”
She thumped a fist against the hollow ache in her chest and bit back a sob. She would not cry in front of him. Greta hadn’t cried in front of another person since her first hospital stay, when she was six.
“I know I hurt you.” Miles’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I never meant for that to happen.”
“Oh? What did you think would be the end result of sleeping with me for information and then never talking to me again?”
“Hold on, wait.” Alarm widened his eyes. “Sleeping with you was never part of the plan. Remember the guest room? I had it all set up, we were going to have a fun, romantic day, I’d get you drunk at dinner, and you’d spill your guts.”
Hating the bitterness in her own voice, Greta couldn’t stop herself from hissing, “So I ruined everything by not being able to drink, and you had to go with plan B.”
“No, damn it,” Miles ground out, looking as if he wanted to shake her. “You ruined everything by making me fall in love with you!”
Chapter Eleven
Greta reared back as if he’d slapped her, rather than declared his love for her, but Miles didn’t let go of her arms.
He was through with letting her go.
“That’s not true. You’re still lying.” Her face crumpled slightly. “Why are you still lying?”
“I’m not. There’s no reason to,” Miles pointed out, almost tripping over the words in his hurry to get them out. “I’ve already given Dylan and Penny my approval, and thanks to the way you made me see my past in a new light, I think Dylan and I even took a good step toward a real relationship.”
As if she’d been turned to stone, Greta stared up at him with huge, bewildered eyes. “That’s … good. I’m glad. For Dylan’s sake.”
Miles couldn’t help but smile. “Poor Greta. You’ve been on quite the emotional roller coaster today.”
She shivered a little when he lifted a hand to brush her hair back from her face, but allowed the touch. The flame of hope in Miles’s chest burned brighter.
“I’ve never been on a roller coaster,” Greta admitted.
“No? You’d love it. If you want, I can call Arturo and tell him to gas up the chopper for a flight to Cedar Point. Best roller coasters in the world.”
The light of adventure radiated from Greta’s eyes for a short second before her brows drew down. “I can’t go anywhere with you.”
“Why not?” Miles asked reasonably. “You don’t believe me when I say I love you? That I’ve loved you from the moment you leaned out over the edge of a hundred-story building just to get a better view?”
Her mouth dropped open, and Miles wanted to kiss the surprise off her beautiful face so badly, his fingers cramped with the need to pull her closer.
Instead, he said, “Actually, if I’m completely honest—which I promise to be from now on—I think I fell in love with you from the first moment I set eyes on you. It just took me a day or so to figure it out.”
Miles watched her closely. This was the delicate part of the negotiation, he sensed. He’d laid it all out for her, the deepest truth of his feelings, and now Greta had to decide whether to retreat back to safety, or to take a leap of faith and trust someone who’d hurt her.
“I can’t…” Greta frowned, and Miles’s fingers itched to smooth away the line between her dark gold brows. “I don’t understand what you get out of lying about this.”
“Best-case scenario?” Miles traced his hands down the length of her arms to trap her cold hands between his. Bringing their twined fingers to his lips, he said, “I could get you.”
For one blissful, heart-stopping second, Greta swayed toward him, color blooming in her cheeks and her breath coming fast and light … but then she drew back. Fear flashed across her face and she pulled her hands from his grasp. “No! It wouldn’t work.”
“If you believe I love you, we can make anything work,” Miles said quickly. “I can give you as much time as you need to catch up. No pressure, no rush—we can start over and take it slow.”
“Right, slow.” Greta’s smile was bleak as winter, and she wrapped her arms around her ribs as if she’d gotten a chill. “However long it takes me to trust you again … you’ll just hang out here on Sanctuary Island and let your company go to rot without you.”
“There’s such a thing as videoconferencing,” Miles pointed out. “And we can travel back and forth. I got the impression you enjoyed New York.”
“I did love New York. That’s the not the point,” Greta cried. “I can’t leave Sanctuary! It’s my home. My mother, the shop—she needs me.”
“Your mother will always need you,” Miles said, treading carefully. “She loves you. And after what you went through together, the transplant and everything—that connection is unbreakable. I would never want to do anything to harm it. But she did mention there are other options available for help with the store.”
Greta was shaking her head hard enough to whip her hair across her cheeks. “No, I can’t…”
Despair yawned like a chasm beneath Miles’s feet, ready to suck him down into the black depths. “Greta. Don’t hide behind your mother.”
Her head shot up, fire in her eyes, but Miles forced himself to continue. “Please don’t say no because you’re afraid to leave home. No
t you, my wild adventurer. But if you’re hesitating because you don’t think you can ever love me back…”
Pain closed his throat, choking off his words, and he had to look away. A tiny huff from Greta made him glance back at her, though, and the aggravation on her face jump-started his heart.
“You idiot,” she breathed, fury reddening her cheeks. “I’m already head over heels for you. What do you think I’m so afraid of?”
Miles whooped and grabbed her, picking her up and twirling her. “You love me?”
“Yes, idiot, now put me down,” Greta yelled, laughing.
He set her on the countertop by the cash register, a strategic move that allowed him to step between her spread thighs and keep her close. Resting her elbows on his shoulders, Greta sobered as she stared down at him.
“Of course I love you,” she said again. “You couldn’t have hurt me so badly if I didn’t.”
Miles buried his face in her lap, unable to bear the sharp pain lurking in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”
“You can’t promise that.” A light, tentative hand carded through the hair at the vulnerable nape of Miles’s neck. “No one could keep that promise.”
Shuddering, Miles straightened and met Greta’s worried stare. “You’re right. Life is long, and if we spend ours together, it’s a given that we’ll hurt each other at some point. But I can promise never to hurt you intentionally.”
Greta seemed to be holding her breath. “Are you … did you just say you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”
“Oh hey, hold on.” In a flash, Miles remembered the tiny box he’d retrieved from the wall safe before they left his penthouse that morning. Weird to think if he’d slipped it into his jacket instead of his pants pocket, they might have avoided a lot of heartache.
“Is that what I think it is?” Greta was close to hyperventilating now, Miles noted from the swift rise and fall of her rib cage.
He brushed a loving finger over the black velvet box, then handed it over. “If you think it’s my mother’s engagement ring, you’re right.”
