“You look beautiful!” Nadine clapped her hands, and suddenly she was being suffocated with a hug and a cloud of sweet-smelling perfume. “Doesn’t she look beautiful, Brant?”
“She always does.” His words came out gravelly, tense.
“And those curves.” Nadine pulled away. “Such gorgeous curves. And those plump lips, don’t they look plump, Brant?”
Brant said nothing.
Nikki kept her head high.
Why would he? They were friends.
“I think you look beautiful.” Bentley’s silky voice said from her right. Was Brock still there? Charles? Sometimes she just wished people would announce themselves so she’d know.
“We should get going.” Brant’s hand touched her elbow, and then he was tugging her away, his fingertips barely grazing her arm, like he was afraid to touch her.
She said a quick good-bye to everyone. He released his hold on her elbow and pressed the small of her back, urging her forward. The minute she was in the elevator his hand dropped.
The silence was awkward. Tense. Painful. Tears stung the backs of her eyes.
“You do look beautiful,” he whispered as the elevator descended. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”
Any man. Not him.
Somehow she found her voice. “Thank you.”
And suddenly the elevator was too small. The memories too big. She felt like she was suffocating.
When the elevator doors opened she lunged into the lobby in an effort to escape—everything.
But especially him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nik—” Brant chased after her. The last thing he wanted was for her to hurt herself again.
Or end up with her naked in the shower when he was trying like hell to keep his distance. It was difficult enough with the way the dress hugged her curves.
Nadine had taken one look at him, smirked, and decided to give him a rundown of exactly what she saw him appreciating. By the time she was done, he was as hard as nails and ready to lose his mind, just praying for the elevator to keep going so he wouldn’t be trapped in a small space with Nikki. Instead it stopped, they both got in, and he was suffering in silence, trying to decide between slamming her against the nearest wall or punching through it with his face.
She was so beautiful. And now she was running away from him or at least trying to.
What the hell happened between his confession and him getting her clothes? He was helping. She needed the day off—damn it, she deserved it.
She beat him to the spa lobby. “Annie, call my clients back. I’m feeling fine.”
Annie eyed Brant and then Nikki. “I, um, he’s my boss. I’m sorry, Nikki.”
“Please.” Nikki’s voice was pleading. “I need the distraction. Please.”
“Nikki.” Brant gave Annie a confused look. “Your hand’s injured—your job is to massage people, how the hell are you going to manage that with a burn?”
She stared down at the ground, hands on hips. Damn, she was pretty. “You can’t just come in here and order me around.”
“Actually, he can. Boss.” Annie gave me a weary look. “But if it makes you feel better, the two clients you had were more than happy to reschedule.”
“Fine.” Nikki nodded and then made her way down the hall. “I’ll be in the staff room.”
“Nikki, wait.” What the hell was up her ass, and why did he suddenly feel so guilty for trying to make things easier on her?
“What?” She turned around, her expression blank. “Did you need anything else from me, or am I free to go relax in silence?”
“What the hell’s your problem?” That came out wrong.
“My problem?” Nikki let out a breath and hung her head. “Nothing. I’m fine, Brant. Everything’s fine.” She marched off, leaving him completely clueless as to what he had done that was so wrong.
A slow clap sounded behind his back. He turned to see Cole grinning like an idiot. “Well done.” He frowned at Annie. “Is Brant the emergency you called me about?”
“I can’t deal with you right now,” Brant muttered.
“You sort of have to,” Annie piped up. “Employee handbook? I’m not trying to be a pain, but I’ve seriously never seen one before. Ever.”
Brant glared at Cole. “How the hell have you been training them?”
Cole rolled his eyes. “Annie, the employee handbook, that blue thing that’s under your desk with the words Employee Handbook on the spine? The one that your nephew used his crayons on when he visited last year?”
She grinned innocently. “Oh, that employee handbook.”
“The very one,” Cole said with pretend shock in his voice. “Annie, what’s going on?”
Annie leaned back in her chair. “What? Sue me for wanting to win the pool. I had to find some way to get you two together.”
“Pool?” they said in unison.
“Yeah, the employees are taking bets to see which one of you guys is going to get a black eye first…bonus points if you both take off your shirts.” She sighed. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
Another employee, Carol, walked across the salon and into the lobby, took one look at them, and her smile deflated. “Nothing?”
“Eh, I should have come up with a better plan.” Annie sighed. “Plus Nikki was already storming out of here by the time Cole showed up.”
“Oh?” Carol leaned against the desk. All eyes fell on Brant. “Stormed out, huh?”
“This isn’t sharing time,” Brant muttered, running his hands through his hair. “And I was doing her a favor.”
Cole pulled out a chair and sat, his expression amused.
Brant pinched the bridge of his nose. “I canceled her afternoon clients.”
“Idiot,” said Cole.
“Why would you do that?” asked Carol.
“You know she needs to stay busy,” added Annie.
“She’s injured,” Brant pointed out. “I’m not sorry for being concerned for her!”
“Concerned?” Cole stood.
Carol sucked in a breath while Annie pulled out her phone and held it high.
“You have to angle it!” Carol barked at her.
“Concerned,” Cole repeated. “You abandon her for four years, suddenly come waltzing back into her life, and you think you have the right to be concerned?”
“I was her husband.”
“Yeah, well, I’m her best friend!” Cole yelled.
Carol elbowed Annie, whose eyes were wide with excitement. “Don’t stop recording.”
“You think you know everything?” Brant shook his head in disgust. “You know nothing.”
“Oh, yeah?” Cole crossed his arms. “Try me. You may have been there for her when you were married, but I was the one who picked up the pieces when she started working here. And when you leave, again, I’m going to have to do the same damn thing!”
“The hell you will!” Brant shoved his chest. “That’s not your job!”
“And it’s yours?” Cole sneered. “Four years and she still has nightmares. Four years and she still cries over you. Four years, Brant. You’re going to destroy her—again. And the worst part? This time, you’ll know exactly what you’re doing, but because you’re a selfish bastard you’re going to take every part of her with you and leave me the pieces, the pieces that I would take if she let me—but she won’t. Because I’m not you.”
“That was beautiful,” Annie said, wiping her cheeks.
Brant stared straight ahead, his heart pounding so hard his chest hurt. “You don’t think I’m hurting? That I don’t know why she cries? Do you think for one second that I don’t hate myself for leaving her? Hate myself for allowing her to push me away when she needed me the most?”
Cole swore. “Then do the right thing.”
“I’m trying!”
“By micromanaging her life? Sleeping with her?”
“I told her I wanted to be friends!” Brant yelled.
The room fell compl
etely silent.
Cole’s jaw fell slack.
And both women shook their heads like he was the absolute biggest idiot in the known universe.
“Please tell me you got that on camera,” Cole said aloud.
“All of it.” Annie gave him a thumbs-up. “I’m thinking of slowing down the last part and then adding an idiot meme over his forehead.”
Brant glared at Annie then jutted out a finger at Cole. “I’m trying a different tactic. I’m going to be her friend, just like you are. I’m going to be there for her. I’m trying to do better. She deserves at least that.”
“She has enough friends.” Cole kicked the tile floor, paced in a semicircle, then kicked the ground again. “And it’s never been enough. Because none of us are you.”
Hope flared in Brant’s chest only to die back down again when he realized that if she never saw him as a friend, as someone she could trust, how could they ever move past everything?
And why did he suddenly want to? What changed?
Everything. Everything had changed in that bathroom.
Hope flared in his chest. Because she hadn’t known the real reason why he left. Amazing what a few words strung together in a sentence can do.
She didn’t mean to say the words back then. He was just too angry and hurt, too done to stay and let her apologize. He was too afraid. Fear had turned into anger.
Brant gulped and looked down.
“I was afraid,” he admitted out loud to himself, to Cole, to Annie, and to Carol. “I was afraid.”
Annie sighed.
Cole clenched his teeth and then exhaled. “Afraid?”
“Have you ever loved someone so much that it hurts to breathe, only to realize after they leave that it hurts because somewhere along the way you stopped living for yourself and instead you were living for them? Only them.” Brant swore. “I was so fucking afraid that I’d lost her, and a part of me wanted to be punished for adding one more thing to the list of fuck-ups, so when she was delirious with pain and blamed me? I took it. I took it because my worst fear came true. And because I blamed myself for everything. I deserved it. And then I lashed out because I was afraid it was true. Better that she hate me just as much as I hate myself—sometimes hate is easier than sadness.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Cole asked. Annie and Carol had quietly gone back to work.
“Not everyone gets second chances.”
“No,” Cole agreed, his eyes narrowing. “Do you really think you have a shot in hell now?”
“Not really.” Brant bit down on his lip until he tasted blood. “But what if…I earn that trust again?”
What if he could win her back? What if he lost? What if the past was still too much for them to overcome?
God, he hated what-ifs.
And again, the temptation to just walk away was so strong he felt paralyzed. It would be easier.
Anger and pain always were. There wasn’t any fighting it; you just succumbed to the darkness and the stark realization that you’d never come out of it.
But peace? Love? They demanded to be fought for.
He just wasn’t sure if he was too battle-scarred to win that sort of fight, at least without help. He wanted to win her—but he had to deserve her in the first place. After seeing the look on her face in the bathroom when she assumed he’d left her, it was going to take a hell of a lot more than friendship to get her to forgive him for walking out on her—for walking out on them.
“I’m saying I’m going to regret the next few days,” Cole finally said.
“Meaning?”
“I’m going to help stop the stupid.”
“You’re the stupid in this scenario,” Annie piped up, “just in case you weren’t already aware.”
“Got that, thanks.” Brant clenched his teeth as a merciless pounding pushed to the front of his head.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this…” Cole swore, popping his knuckles. “But I’m going to help you win her back.”
“What if I don’t want her back?” Oh look, the stupid just came out. Of course he wanted her back, he was just terrified that once he had her, she would get ripped away again—or worse, that he was the bad luck in this scenario, and he would hurt her more. God, he’d never forgive himself if anything else happened to her.
Cole marched toward him and shoved Brant’s chest. “Then leave. Now. Save me the time, save her the pain. Or go after what you want. What she wants. Choose.”
Brant’s head didn’t have time to make the calculations. His heart reminded him it would hurt, that it would mean more conversations like the ones in the shower, that it would mean pain. It would mean remembering.
It would mean grieving.
I have everything.
I’ve lost everything.
Such a small baby.
Such a big fire.
So many painful moments wrapped themselves around his head like a vise.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ll always choose her.” Even when it hurt. Even when he knew it could destroy them all over again. If they couldn’t face their demons four years ago, then what the hell made him think they could face them now?
Hope.
And the fact that he wasn’t going to give up again.
“Great.” Cole’s demeanor shifted, all traces of tension left his face. “Then we need to go to the meditation tent.”
Brant grit his teeth. “I’m not going to the meditation tent.”
“Yes.” Cole grabbed him by the shirt. “You are.”
“Cole, do a woman a solid and let me know if you guys start fighting again,” Annie called out.
Carol nodded while Cole opened the door for Brant. “I overheard part of what your grandfather said at lunch.”
“That’s not creepy at all. You spying on me, Cole?”
“I make it my business to know everything, and the waitstaff has been very…helpful in that area. The way I hear it, outside your grandfather your family doesn’t know shit about what happened the night of the fire, and you’re going to need their support when you screw up again.”
“When I screw up again?” Brant nearly tripped over his own feet. “For someone who claims to want to help me, you aren’t very optimistic.”
“Because I don’t like you.”
“It’s not like you shit rainbows, either. You were friend-zoned from the start,” Brant grumbled.
“Ouch. Good one,” Cole mocked with a sarcastic edge to his voice. “If you want to win her over—and get out of that zone you’re about to join me in—you won’t be able to do it on your own.”
Brant stopped walking. “You want me to talk to my family?”
Cole shrugged. “Your family saw the worst and still somehow didn’t kill you in your sleep. They’re willing to put you in the best light possible, whereas someone like myself may want to remind her that you abandoned her in her time of need.” The bastard smiled, and Brant could have sworn there was an extra pep in his step. “Come on, I don’t have all day.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rule number one: We need her to remember you for the man you were, not”—Cole gave Brant an antagonizing look and shoved him toward the meditation tent—“the jackass you are.”
“I’m not a jackass.”
“Denial won’t help you.”
Brant clenched his teeth. “I’m only an ass to you.”
“You slept with her and abandoned her, and that was yesterday,” Cole pointed out. “You wrote her up, threatened to fire her, have been—“
“Fine, I get it, I’m an ass.” Brant held up his hand to get Cole to stop talking.
They walked toward the tent near the back of the resort. Outside of the tent, Brock, Bentley, and his grandfather all sat around a campfire with nothing on but shorts. Sweat poured down their backs, and Brock had just spit out an insane amount of water only to take another swig and glare at Bentley.
Cole rolled his eyes as both men approached the group sitting out by the
fire. “So, how’s the Zen program?”
Brock shot daggers in Cole’s direction. “Bentley saw a bright light, then asked Jesus to take the wheel, all the while shoving Grandfather, aka the wheel in this scenario, toward the flames. All in all, it’s been a great start to our afternoon. Sad you missed it.”
Bentley dumped water over his head and cursed. “It was hot as hell in there.”
“Behold!” Grandfather held out his arms to Brant. “Your future, should you choose not to take your head out of your ass. Hell.” He pointed to the tent. “But I think the real thing is a lot hotter.”
“Yeah, I’m going to have to pass.” Brant tried turning around but Cole blocked his every move. “Seriously, man?”
“You need all the help you can get, and you need people who actually put up with you on your side. I don’t count since I’m still on her team.”
“I like him,” Bentley piped up.
Brock patted the wooden seat next to him.
“You may enter the circle.” Grandfather spread his arms wide. “How’s the resort business? Nadine says you’ve managed this place quite well.”
“Let’s talk business later.” Cole eyed Brant.
With a grimace, Brant sat next to his grandfather and waited. The flames licked higher and higher, and with the intensity of the heat, Brant wanted nothing more than to back away.
He hated fires. Nothing good ever came from fires. They burned. They destroyed.
“So what brings you out here, then?” Grandfather interrupted Brant’s dark thoughts. Already Brant wanted to bolt; each flame licked higher and higher, reminding him of things he’d rather forget. “So far, the Zen program has been quite enlightening. We spent the last half hour in meditation sweating our asses off and came out here for a quick break before going back in.”
“You go right ahead,” Brock grumbled.
“Actually,” Cole said, glowered in Brant’s direction, “I need your help, all of you.”
Brant wasn’t entirely sure he liked where this conversation was going or the way his grandfather’s eyes twinkled at the request.
“Oh?” Grandfather rubbed his hands together. “Anything. Name it.”
The Bachelor Contract Page 15
