by Katy Regnery
Rory shifted his eyes to Tierney to get her take on this and was surprised to find her face open and engaged, like Ian’s suggestion wasn’t a terrible idea.
“He’s right,” she said. “He knows the ropes as well as you do. And we’re not saying you should just jump ship. But Ian could come on as comanager. Loosen up your schedule a little.”
Rory weighed this possibility in his head. No, he didn’t trust that Ian was prepared to suddenly run Summerhaven after two good months, but he did recognize that Ian had the skillset needed, and he had stayed sober for longer this time than any previous attempt. Giving Ian a chance to prove himself would also give Rory the time he needed to chase after his own dream. Hell, if he could get funding for his idea, he’d have something substantial to offer Brittany. He’d be a business owner, and yeah, he could eventually move to Boston so she wouldn’t need to uproot her life.
The more he thought about it, the more excited he felt.
“You mean it?” he asked Ian.
Ian nodded. “Yeah. I’ve left you holding the bag for too long. I need to grow up, Rory. This place will help me do that.”
“You’d need to come on as coassistant manager with Doug for this summer. And then in September, I could promote you to comanager,” said Rory.
“Sounds good,” said Ian, looking around their childhood home with appreciation. “I’ll move in here with you next week.”
“With me?” asked Rory, thinking about the recent nights he and Britt had spent on the couch, making out until dawn.
“Yeah,” said Ian. “Where else would I go?”
Rory frowned at his brother, though he knew that Ian was right. Yes, there was another staff apartment on campus—a tiny loft over the chapel—but Ian’s recovery was still too new for him to live alone. He still needed someone to keep an eye on him.
Tierney, reading Rory’s mind, grinned at him. “Poor Rory. His love nest’s being invaded.”
“Enough of that,” he told her, turning to Ian. “I’m glad to have you here, Ian. Thanks for offering.”
“Thanks for saying yes, bro. I’m excited.”
“Will you shave the beard?”
“Absolutely not,” said Ian. “It would take someone prettier than you to get me to part with it.”
“What’ll you do with the extra time, Ror?” asked Tierney. “Try to get your idea up and running? What does Britt think about it?”
“Yes,” said Rory, nodding at his sister. “I’ll get the business plan out, update it and polish it. Maybe I’ll reach out to Professor Collins and see if he’d be willing to set up those meetings in New York for me again.”
“And Britt?” asked Tierney, like a dog with a bone. “She loved the idea, right?”
Rory looked away from his siblings. “I haven’t told her.”
“Why not?” asked Ian. “With her connections, she could give you a hand.”
“That’s just it,” said Rory. “I don’t want a hand…not from her. I don’t ever want her to think that I got together with her just so that I could get a leg up in the hospitality business. In fact, I’m never telling her about it. Not until the day I have funding.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” asked Tierney, cocking her head to the side. “Most women don’t love it when things are kept from them, you know.”
“Most women aren’t Brittany Manion,” he said. “What if she thought I was just after her money?”
Ian hooted with laughter. “Then she doesn’t know you at all, boyo.”
“Ian’s right,” said Tierney. “Anyone who knows you knows that’d be beneath your character.”
“Either way, I won’t risk her. I can’t.”
Tierney still looked troubled. “Just be sure you’re not risking her by withholding it, huh?”
Rory was done talking about this. “Let me worry about it, huh?”
“Sure, Rory,” she said, like she hoped he knew what he was doing.
“So…the party on Monday,” said Ian, grinning at Rory. “Man, I love a party! Fill me in. Now that I’m assistant manager, I guess I’ll have some real responsibilities around here.” He nudged Tierney in the side. “You think the boss will give me a company car?”
“I think you’ll be lucky if the boss doesn’t give you a boot in the rear,” said Tierney, laughing at her brother as the Haven triplets turned to the planning of Summerhaven’s annual party.
CHAPTER 14
Memorial Day arrived with bright-blue skies, and Brittany woke up to a beam of sunlight shining across her bed.
She stretched her arms over her head and groaned happily. Since Ian had moved into the apartment over the office last Friday, she and Rory had been hanging out in Lady Margaret. Last night, they’d spent some time going over the plans for the party today before falling asleep in each other’s arms. He was gone this morning, of course, having slipped out before dawn. She turned her face into his pillow and breathed deeply, smelling him: pine and soap and Rory.
Though their conversation on Wednesday night had left her feeling a little insecure, she was grateful to have Thursday away from him to gain some perspective. What was he supposed to do? Ask her to move in with him and his brother? That would be awkward. Or leave Summerhaven and move to Boston to be with her? She hadn’t made that offer to him, and it would have been presumptuous for him to suggest it. He was inviting her to stay for as long as possible before the summer season began, and at face value, that meant that they were maximizing the time they had together.
As for the future? Well, they’d have to talk about it. And unlike Ben, with whom she’d avoided difficult conversations, she wouldn’t avoid it with Rory. In fact, tonight, after the fireworks, she intended to bring it up.
Because weekends were his busiest time, she could volunteer to come up and see him on the weekends, and perhaps he could come down to Boston and spend one night a week at her place. More than anything, she trusted him—he’d never given her reason not to, and his transparency meant everything to her—and as long as they wanted their relationship to work, she trusted that they’d put the effort into making that happen.
Was she nervous? Of course. Her luck in the past hadn’t exactly primed her confidence, but Rory was the most genuine, most loving, most trustworthy person she knew. If anyone on earth wouldn’t let her down, it was him. She rolled out of bed and got dressed, ready to start a wonderful day at Summerhaven.
After running the carnival games all morning and sitting beside Farmer Hank in the front seat of the hay wagon, giving camp tours all afternoon, she was tired by early evening. Standing on the food line, waiting for a burger, she didn’t notice Ian beside her until he tapped her on the shoulder.
“Hey, Britt!”
“Hey, trouble.”
“Trouble? I’m hurt!” He pointed to the logo on his shirt. “Didn’t you hear? I’ve gotten more responsible lately. In fact, Summerhaven’s got a new assistant manager.”
“I heard. Poor Summerhaven,” she said, grinning up at Rory’s brother, who looked so much better than he had two months ago at Tierney’s house.
“Hope my promotion isn’t cramping your style,” he said, giving her a suggestive grin. “You know, hosting my brother in your little cottage night after night…”
“What happens in my little cottage night after night is none of your affair, boyo,” she said, making him throw back his head with laughter.
When he stopped laughing, he nudged her in the hip. “Hey, you know…I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asked, nodding her thanks at the server who placed a fresh-off-the-grill burger on her waiting bun.
“Yeah. About Halcyon.”
Brittany squeezed some ketchup on her plate and grabbed a handful of chips from a big bowl. “Forget it.”
“Britt, come on,” said Ian, following her to a nearby picnic table almost filled with locals happily gorging themselves on free barbecue. “Just tell me…how is she?”
“Last I h
eard? Terrible.”
Ian grimaced, rubbing his beard. “Why? What else happened?”
“Her ex-husband racked up tens of thousands of dollars on her credit card. It’s holding up the divorce. She thinks they may need to declare bankruptcy.”
“Fuuuuck,” muttered Ian.
“Yeah,” said Britt, taking a big bite of her sandwich. She chewed slowly, watching Ian process this news.
“Bastard.”
“Uh-huh,” agreed Brittany, looking over Ian’s shoulder for a glimpse of Rory. She’d barely seen him all day.
Suddenly she caught sight of him near the lemonade table. He was talking to a blonde woman with long hair who wore a tied-dyed sundress. From the looks of her, Brittany would guess she was in her forties, and from the Bulgari sunglasses she was wearing, she was obviously from money. “Hey, Ian…who’s that? Who’s Rory talking to?”
Ian looked over his shoulder, then turned back to Brittany, his expression guarded. “No one.”
Brittany looked at the woman again, the way she reached out to touch Rory’s arm, her fingers curling around his skin and lingering as she laughed at something he said.
“She’s not no one,” said Brittany, putting her burger down as her appetite disappeared completely, the memory of Ben and Angie in the hospital cafeteria flashing through her mind. “Who is she? What’s her name?”
“She’s just…she’s a photographer who lives on the other side of the lake. Her name’s June.”
I just don’t think June’s right for your event.
June. She remembered Rory mentioning June. She was the photographer who he’d originally suggested to capture her wedding and then awkwardly unrecommended after they’d spent a little more time together.
“Who is she?” whispered Brittany, a terrible ache taking hold of her. “I mean…who is she…to Rory?”
“I don’t want to…” Ian held her eyes for a moment, then shifted his away. “Talk to Rory. He’ll tell you. It’s not my place…but, Britt? Believe me. It’s nothing you need to be worried about.”
Except Ian’s body language didn’t correspond with his claim that June was “nothing.” He was evading the question and avoiding her eyes, and it made Brittany’s blood run cold in recognition. Secrets. Lies. Cheating. She’d been here before.
“Fine,” she said, picking up her plate and standing up from the table. Leaving Ian, she headed for the garbage can, throwing away most of her food.
“Hey, Brittany!” said Doug, who was passing her with a tray of watermelon slices.
She offered him the brightest smile she could muster. “Hey, Doug! Great party.”
“Yeah,” he said, looking around with a satisfied nod. “Everyone’s having fun.”
“Hey, Doug,” she said, hooking her thumb in Rory’s direction, and trying to sound casual, “how long ago did June and Rory break up?”
“Huh,” said Doug, wrinkling his forehead. “Did they break it off? I didn’t know.”
“So they’ve been together for a while, huh?”
“Mmm. Together?” Doug grinned at her. “I don’t know if I’d call them together, Britt. More just banging boots, I think.”
“Banging boots,” she murmured, feeling her heart drop to her stomach like a big, fat brick as tears welled in her eyes. “Right.”
“Hey…are you okay?”
“Yeah! Dust in my eye. G-Great party, Doug,” she said before hurrying away.
Beelining to the path in the woods, she power walked back to the main path, tears streaming down her cheeks as she panted from exertion and fury and sadness.
…it’s free until June 3. You could stay if you want to.
But not beyond the third, right? Because there’s another June across the lake waiting for some “boot banging” as soon as the fourth rolls around!
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered through tears, turning right onto the main path toward Lady Margaret. Luckily all of the visitors were at the barbecue, and no one was around to see the crying crazy lady talking to herself. “Why would your luck change, dummy? Why would Rory be different? How many times does this need to happen before you see? Before you get it through your thick head? There’s something wrong with you, Brittany! Face it! You’re unlovable!”
Walking fast and not looking down, she tripped on a root, falling to the gravelly path with a cry as her hands broke her fall. When she turned them over, bloody and dirty, it only made her cry harder, and she stood up, pressing them to her pants. Then she continued her walk, slower now, all of her indignation swallowed by the stinging in her hands, by the anguish in her heart.
She’d thought Rory was different. She’d believed that he was special, that he wouldn’t let her down. But here she was, bleeding and broken, as she pulled her suitcase out from under her bed and started throwing her clothes into it.
He had someone else—like Travis, like Ben. She wasn’t enough for him, and she’d probably never be enough for any man. And it fucking hurt. It hurt because she wanted to belong to someone, and she thought she belonged to Rory. And damn, it, she loved him. She was madly and completely in love with him in a way that felt different from any man she’d loved before.
But it wasn’t different.
It was just more of the same.
And Brittany Manion had finally had enough.
***
The look on Ian’s face as he approached told Rory that something was going down…and that it wasn’t good.
“Will you excuse me, June?”
“Of course. And Rory,” she said, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m happy for you. I’m glad it all worked out with Miss Impossible.”
“Me too,” said Rory, waving good-bye to her before meeting Ian halfway across the field. “What’s up?”
“Brittany.”
Rory froze, scanning Ian’s face. “Is she hurt? What happened? Where is she?”
“Fuck,” muttered Ian, rubbing the back of his neck. “Halfway back to Boston? She saw you with June. I didn’t tell her who June was, but she knew something was up between you two. Then I saw her talking to Doug, and after that she took off.”
“When?”
“Five minutes ago?”
“I was just talking to June! Nothing else.”
“Yeah, but old lovers have a way of touching sometimes…a hand on an arm…the way you might lean in a little too close when you laugh. It’s the leftover comfort of established intimacy…even if things are over…”
“Fuck,” Rory growled. “Did it look that bad?”
“From where she was sitting?” Ian winced. “Didn’t look good, man.”
Rory handed his clipboard to Ian. “Take this. And don’t come and find me unless the whole place is burning down.”
“Yeah! Yeah. Don’t worry! I’ve got things under control,” called Ian at Rory’s back. “You go after her!”
Racing through the woods, Rory didn’t stop until he reached the main path, panting as he speed walked the rest of the way to Lady Margaret.
Half of him was worried out of his mind, and the other half was furious.
He knew that she’d been hurt by other men, and he understood from Ian how his and June’s body language—coupled, no doubt, with misinformation from Doug—had led her to believe he was cheating on her.
But, damn it, he’d done everything—everything—possible to make her feel safe, to prove himself to her, to move at her pace, and the idea that she would run off without even talking to him hurt. In fact, it made him fucking furious, and the idea of losing her scared him to death.
When he reached Lady Margaret, he could hear her banging around inside, doing God only knows what, but he was so grateful she was still there, he rested his hands on his knees for a moment and took a deep, calming breath.
Then he stepped over to the cottage and knocked on the door.
“Britt?”
“I’m…not…here!” she yelled.
“Let me in.”
“Scre
w you!”
“Open up,” he said. “June and me…it’s not what you think.”
She threw open the door, and Rory winced at the sight of her: red-rimmed eyes, wet cheeks and fists by her sides—she was barely holding herself together. Shit. This is bad.
“Britt,” he said gently, hurting for her, “please let me in, mo mhuirnín. We need to talk.”
“Mo mhuirnín? Your s-sweetheart?” she scoffed, her face crushed. She reached up to swipe away more tears. “Just how many sweethearts do you have, Rory?”
“One,” he said, holding the door and stepping inside. “You. Only you.”
“I don’t believe you,” she spat, turning back to her suitcase.
His eyes followed her motions, his whole body tensing up when he realized she was packing. He reached for her arm, forcing her to stop what she was doing, turn around, and face him.
“I asked if you dated anyone while you’ve been here,” she cried.
“And I said, ‘No one special.’”
“Well, it sure looked special to me!”
“Brittany, I’m not sleeping with June. I haven’t slept with her since before the day you came to check out Summerhaven. I swear it on Tierney and Ian’s lives. Once I’d met you again—even though you were engaged to another man—I ended things with June.”
She was motionless, staring up at him, and he could feel the struggle within her. She wanted to believe him, but her past hurts were making it difficult for her to trust.
“I promise you, Brittany. I promise you that since the day you walked back into my life, there’s been no one for me…but you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about her?”
“Why would I? What man tells the woman he loves about some other woman?”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise. “Wait. What did you say?”
He was still holding her arm, but he slid his fingers down her arm to her hand, winding his fingers through hers, grateful that she didn’t pull away. “I love you. And maybe it’s too soon for me to tell you that. But, Britt…sweet woman…that’s the truth. That’s all my cards on the table. I love you.”
“You…love me?” she asked, her body swaying toward him, though her feet didn’t move.
