by Reese Ryan
Bree’s eyes were sympathetic and kind, like a warm hug from a dear friend. He could tell she wanted to delve deeper, but seemed unsure if she should.
“My parents divorced when my brother and I were kids. He was a jazz saxophonist who headlined his own band. He and my mom met when he hired her as the band’s female vocalist.”
“Your parents were musicians? They must’ve lived an exciting life.” She sliced into her duck and took a bite.
“They did,” Wes said. “Which is why the old man didn’t adjust too well to family life and working in a factory. He stuck it out eight or nine years, but then he became restless.
“He got the band back together and snagged a few local gigs. At first, that was enough. But then he wanted to hit the road and tour again.” Wes drained his beer, then signaled for another. “My mother didn’t want to drag us all over the world, and she refused to leave us behind. She didn’t want anyone else raising her kids—not even my grandmother.”
“Is that when they split?”
“Not at first. He hired a new vocalist and his band toured the States, then Europe. His calls and postcards became less frequent. Eventually he sent a letter saying that he loved us, but that this was something he needed to do for himself. The divorce papers showed up not long afterward.”
“Wes, I’m sorry.” There was comfort and compassion in her voice, rather than pity. “I understand the betrayal you feel when a parent walks away from you like that…it’s indescribable.”
“I thought your parents were still together.”
Bree seemed to carefully debate her next words. “I’m adopted.”
Wes straightened in his seat, the hair lifting on the back of his neck. “You’re adopted?”
“Yes.” She seemed surprised by his reaction.
“I didn’t mean for it to sound as if…” He took a breath. Get it together, man. “It’s just that I’ve seen some of your interviews and pictures of your family. You resemble your mother quite a bit. I guess we see what we expect to see.”
Nice save.
Bree’s shoulders relaxed. “My adoptive mother is my biological great aunt. My bio mom had me when she was really young. Her aunt and uncle weren’t able to conceive and they couldn’t afford in vitro. So when they learned my bio mom was pregnant and didn’t want the baby, they talked her out of termination and offered to adopt me. I got lucky twice.”
“It’s good you were able to stay with family.” He assessed her carefully before asking his next question. Her open expression seemed to give him permission. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your relationship with your birth mom?”
“We don’t have one,” Bree responded matter-of-factly, but the light in her eyes dimmed and her smile lost its radiance.
Wes glided his hand across the table, wanting to touch hers. He wanted to give her the same comfort her smile had given him earlier. He froze, his fingers a few inches from Bree’s.
Keep it strictly business. Maintain your distance.
“Sorry to hear that, Bree.” He gripped his beer glass instead. “That must be hard.”
“It’s not that I don’t see her. I do. At every family function. She went on with her life and became a successful lawyer. Got married. Had kids of her own.” Bree forced a laugh. “And me, I’m this big family secret that everyone except her husband and kids know about.”
Something deep in his chest bubbled, like hot lava threatening to spill out of a volcano. How could Bree’s mother sit next to her at barbecues and family weddings, pretending they didn’t share the strongest human bond? Didn’t the woman have any idea how that must make Bree feel?
Wes tried to curb the anger building toward a woman he’d never even met. He’d always known how lucky he was to have his mother. She’d given up everything for him. Put all of her dreams aside to give him and his brother the best life she could. For that, he couldn’t thank her enough.
But it was more than just Bree’s situation that bothered him. Her revelation that she was adopted set all those wheels turning in his head. The ones that kept him awake at night.
Adopted children usually went to good homes. Better situations. What about the ones who didn’t? Even when everything looked good from the outside, who could know what was happening behind closed doors?
Wes didn’t realize neither of them had spoken in several minutes until her voice, soft and apologetic, broke through the jumble of thoughts that wrapped themselves around his skull and squeezed like a vise.
“I didn’t mean to put a downer on this lovely meal. I’m not even sure why I told you that. I shouldn’t have. Only a handful of people outside of my family know the truth. So, please don’t tell anyone.”
“Not my business to tell.” He shrugged. “But I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me.”
Bree squirmed. Something in her eyes indicated that the ease she felt with him was a source of concern for her.
They had that in common, too.
As they finished dinner and shared a generous slice of pecan carrot cake, Wes tried to reassure himself that getting to know Bree was simply a team-building exercise designed to fortify their working relationship. But the truth gnawed at him.
He liked Bree. A lot.
He wanted her friendship, and a rogue part of his anatomy wanted something more.
Trying to strike the perfect balance between building an amicable, working relationship with Bree and keeping a safe emotional distance was a dangerous game. A lot was at stake. For him. For Bree. For Westbrook International.
He couldn’t afford to screw this up.
Yet, when he walked her back to her room, he wasn’t prepared to say good-night.
“Thank you for dinner.” Bree leaned in, one hand pressed to his chest, and kissed his cheek. Her soft scent and body heat surrounded him.
He hadn’t expected the innocent kiss or that he’d be overwhelmed by her nearness.
Bree’s mouth lingered near his as she pulled away so slowly he could hear every microsecond ticking in his head. He willed himself to stay in control. To keep his hands shoved in his pockets, where they wouldn’t get him into trouble.
“You’re welcome.” The words came out much quieter than he’d intended. He dropped his gaze to her sensual lips and she smiled.
“I’d ask you in for an after-dinner drink, but like you said, we’ve got an early morning.” Her voice was soft and captivating, an unspoken invitation.
Wes wet his lower lip and tried to tear his attention away from her mouth and her soft gaze. Tried with every fiber of his being to ignore the fact that he wanted her desperately.
He couldn’t.
Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer. His mouth inched toward hers. Bree’s eyes drifted closed as she leaned in, closing the space that remained between them.
His lips were nearly on hers when laughter erupted from a loud group exiting the elevator. Startled, her eyes opened and she stepped beyond his grip.
Her cheeks were crimson and she somehow managed to look both surprised and disappointed.
Feelings he shared.
Still, another part of him was thankful. This was a business trip, not a love connection. Something they’d both do well to remember.
“Bree, I’m sorry, I—”
“Saved by the bell.” She forced a smile, then dug her hotel key card out and bid him good-night before closing her door.
Wes dragged a hand through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh. He needed to pull it together or he and the project were in serious trouble.
CHAPTER 10
Bree hoisted on her backpack and made her way toward the sign that declared their arrival at the Looking Glass Rock Trail head in the Pisgah National Forest.
The forty-five-minute drive to
the park had been filled with awkward silence over their near kiss the night before, something neither of them seemed willing to discuss.
She zipped her black jacket up to her neck to ward against the cool, brisk morning air. Bree secured her silk-lined knit hat, tugged on a pair of black gloves and wound a scarf around her neck.
The sun was up and the temperature was rising. By the time they’d hiked to the summit, she’d likely need to shed a few layers. But for now, her breath rose as a visible, steamy cloud in the air.
“Sure you’re up for this?” Wes set the car alarm, then zipped the keys in a backpack he’d stuffed with fruit, protein bars and several bottles of water. “The downtown walking tour is still an option.”
“And miss climbing to the top of this…what did you call it again?” They’d seen the view of the commanding rock cliff from the other side. It was a rock climber’s dream.
“Looking Glass Rock is a pluton monolith. It was formed when hot magma tried to push its way to the surface, but got stuck underground.”
“How could it have been formed underground when it’s nearly four thousand feet high?” She fastened the backpack straps that intersected her chest.
“A mountain once shielded the rock.” Wes nodded toward the trail. “Over time, it wore away, leaving the igneous rock exposed.”
Bree grinned. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a science nerd.”
“I’m not.” A pained look briefly marred Wesley’s handsome face. He flashed an uneasy smile. “We’d better stretch, then get going. Got a full day ahead.”
They stretched, then followed some steps. The trail opened onto a forest dominated by the towering trunks of dead hemlock trees. Because of the unseasonably warm weather, many of the newer species of trees that had taken root were in bloom, despite it being late winter.
The ground was dry and the gradual elevation of the trail made for a fairly easy hike. They climbed uphill beside a small stream, then the trail took a right and crossed the creek on a footbridge.
About a mile in, the ground changed from dirt to exposed rock.
Bree squatted down to touch the cool surface. “Can you believe this was once hot, molten liquid?”
“Pretty amazing when you think about it. This could’ve been an active volcano, spewing hot lava.” Wes stepped closer, held out his hand and pulled Bree to her feet.
“Thanks.” Bree’s cheeks heated as her eyes met his. She tugged her hand free, then went ahead of him on the trail. Her pulse accelerated even more than it had from the exertion of the climb.
The trail rose in a series of hairpin turns, which made it possible to see the trail ahead and below. Switchbacks, Wes had called them. The switchbacks kept the trail from getting too steep.
Bree was thankful for the gradual increase. Despite being a runner and regular strength training, her thigh muscles burned in protest.
Along the way, Wes pointed out the flora and fauna. They’d seen cardinals, blue jays and ruby-throated hummingbirds, whose wings moved so rapidly they were a blur. Suddenly, a streak of white fur dashed across the trail.
“Was that a white squirrel?” Bree tried to pull out her phone and snap a picture, but the squirrel had zero interest in his fifteen minutes of fame.
“White squirrels are the unofficial mascot here in Brevard.” Wes grinned. “There’s a White Squirrel Festival here on Memorial Day weekend.”
Bree scanned the forest, looking for the adorable little furry creature, hoping to snap a shot of it. It would look nice beside the photo of black squirrels she’d taken while visiting Toronto years earlier.
Wes handed her a bottle of water, and she accepted it gratefully. Bree finished nearly half the bottle as she surveyed the area around them. It was peaceful and beautiful, despite the time of year.
“I see why you love coming here.” Bree capped the bottle and stuffed it in her backpack.
“Not yet.” He finished his bottle. “But you will. C’mon, we’d better keep moving.”
Wes went ahead on the trail and she followed. Finally, they reached a helipad used to airlift injured climbers.
“Is this it?” She looked around. “There’s no view here.”
“Patience, grasshopper,” he called over his shoulder, continuing ahead on a slightly downhill trail. Suddenly, the brush opened onto a rocky platform that offered a view of the valley below. “This is the money shot.”
“It’s incredible.” She ventured forward carefully. There was no railing. Just a sheer rock cliff at the edge. “Is it safe?”
Wes tested the surface. “There’s no ice and it’s dry today, so it shouldn’t be slippery. Stay on the flatter area bordering the forest and don’t venture too close to the edge. It’s a long way down.”
Bree inched out farther, enjoying the gentle breeze and the sunshine, and she studied the remarkable view below.
“The view must be stunning when the trees are all green during summer, or in the fall when the leaves are changing colors.”
“It is.” There was a sadness behind Wes’s smile that made her heart ache. “Maybe we’ll get a chance to come back here when the tournament is over. Sort of a celebration climb.”
“I like that idea.” Bree returned her attention to the view, not wanting Wes to see how happy the thought made her. She snapped a few shots of the view with her phone, then pointed to a mountain in the distance. “What’s that?”
“Black Balsam Knob and that’s Pisgah Mountain.” Wes pointed to a ridge with a succession of peaks.
Bree moved forward, taking photos, then suddenly lost her footing. She dropped her phone, but Wes caught it and her before either hit the ground.
“I’ve got you. You’re okay.” His voice was calm and reassuring as he steadied her. “You just slipped on a patch of algae.”
“But if I’d… I mean, if you hadn’t…” Her heart raced as she imagined what could’ve happened if Wes hadn’t been there. She hugged him. “Thank you.”
“I’d love to take credit for being the hero, but if you’d fallen, you would’ve only sustained a few cuts and bruises. I doubt you’d have sailed off the cliff. It’s pretty flat here.” He held her in his arms. “I’d never put you in jeopardy.”
Bree leaned back and met his gaze. “Seriously, Wes, I appreciate what you did.”
“I’m letting you go now, so watch your step.” His smile reassured her. “Stand over there and I’ll get a few shots of you with the mountains in the background.”
He took a few photos with her phone, then handed it back to her, and she took a few of him in silly poses that made them both laugh and put her at ease.
“If you aren’t a science geek, how do you know so much about pluton monoliths and the kinds of trees up here?” Bree studied his face as a stormy cloud seemed to settle over him, making her regret the question.
“My dad.” Wes frowned as he sat down and removed his backpack. He rummaged inside and pulled out an apple. He handed it to her before getting another for himself.
Bree took off her backpack and sat on the ground beside Wes. She nibbled on the apple, hoping Wes would tell her more, but not wanting to push him. The subject of his father was obviously a sensitive one.
“My dad had been on the road traveling with his band for several months. When he finally came home, I’d asked him to stay with us rather than going back out on the road.” Wes chewed a bite of his apple.
“He didn’t answer, but a couple days later, he brought me up here and showed me this incredible view.” Wes looked around, staring off into the distance. “He said there was so much out there, and that he wanted to experience all of it. And he wanted the same for me, even if that took us on different paths.”
Bree placed a hand on Wes’s arm before she could stop herself. He seemed to find comfort in the gesture.
“Wes, I’m sorry about your dad.” She lowered her voice, not wanting the hikers who’d joined them on the rocky cliff to overhear her. “Do you and your dad keep in touch?”
“Barely, but I’m fine with things the way they are.” His expression belied his forceful statement, but Bree didn’t press.
“What about your younger brother?”
“Drake sees our father as this larger-than-life heroic figure. He followed his footsteps and became a musician.”
“Another sax player in the family?” Bree smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
“A drummer. He practiced on an old set of drums dad left behind.”
“Your mom must’ve been a very patient woman.”
“She was.” Wes flashed a genuine smile that made her heart soar. “Guess it paid off. Drake’s pretty good. He’s been working as a session musician mostly, hoping to eventually start his own jazz trio.”
“Excuse me,” one of the hikers said. “Would you mind taking a group photo of our family?”
Wes obliged, climbing to his feet and accepting the young brunette’s cell phone. He took a series of photos of their family of four before handing it back to her.
“Thanks.” The girl beamed. “I’d be happy to take a few shots of you and your girl… Oh my God. Look, Mom! It’s Bree Evans. It’s so great to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”
“Thank you so much. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” Bree grinned, hoping she didn’t look like a sweaty, hot mess. “And thank you for offering to take our photo, but—”
“Yes,” Wes interrupted. “We’d love for you to take some pictures of us.”
Bree handed the girl her phone and she and Wes stood together on the rocky cliff with the trees in early bloom spread out behind them.
The girl frowned after taking the photo. “You both look uncomfortable in this one. Maybe we should try again. Stand a little closer and maybe try smiling.”
Wes and Bree looked at each other and laughed, stepping a little closer. He wrapped an arm around her and they smiled.
“Much better.” The girl took a few more shots and smiled. She returned the phone and asked that Wes take photos of her and her family with Bree. After Bree autographed the girl’s backpack, she and her family began their descent back down the trail.
