by Tracy March
“How did you find out?”
Holly shook her head. “Not that you deserve to know, but it seems as if Milly and Merri truly are somewhat clairvoyant. Carden happened to overhear them talking about your resemblance to Adam Evanston.”
Bryce shifted his gaze to the ground next to the stack of newspapers. The picture of his father and Victoria Simmonds lay facedown, where it would remain until he burned it along with the calendars and the newspapers from the suite.
“He has nothing to do with you and me,” Bryce said. “With us.”
Holly blanched. “There is no us. Never was, and damn sure never will be. But I’ll give it to you, Bryce. You had me fooled, believing your lines, falling for your stories, responding to your touch. Give yourself some points, if that’s how you keep score.”
Bryce tugged in a ragged breath. “I don’t even know Adam Evanston. Yes, he’s my father, but I’ve never met him. I happened to learn about the despicable things he’d done to the unsuspecting people of Thistle Bend, and I thought I’d found a way to make up for some of that—whether I knew him or not.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you I was his son, Holly. Because if I had, you would’ve never given me a chance. No one would.”
“A chance to do what? Break my heart?”
Holly’s words nearly wrecked him.
Her eyes glistened in the firelight. It took all of his discipline not to go to her, take her in his arms, and whisper, We can fix this.
Because they couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his throat thick with emotion. “For what it’s worth, I meant every one of my lines. I told you my stories because I really wanted to share them with you…” He rubbed his hand across his eyes and dragged it down his face. “And, God, I loved touching you. Remember what I said to you when we were up on that mountain in the sunset, lying together in the grass?”
She blinked several times, clearly fighting back tears. “You said…” Her voice was barely a whisper. “ ‘I want to remember this moment. Hopefully we’ll be doing this forever, but we’ll only have one first time.’ ”
Bryce nodded slowly and met her gaze. “Hopefully we’ll be doing this forever.” He raked his hand through his hair and clutched the back of his head. “Didn’t that mean anything to you?”
She stood silent, the flames of the fire flickering in her eyes.
“Just answer yes or no,” he said. “It won’t change anything either way. I’ll be on a plane to Costa Rica first thing in the morning. But I need to know that I wasn’t alone in this—that it wasn’t just me.”
Holly swiped away a tear as she gazed at him, contemplating. A log popped in the fire, sending glowing embers flying as she turned and walked away.
Chapter 21
Holly was no stranger to brokenheartedness, but she’d never felt it as deeply as she had during the last two days.
Even when things had ended with Max.
Her heartbreak over Bryce was even more crushing. The best she’d been able to do was go through the motions at home and work. She’d kept to herself as much as possible except for a couple of short conversations with Lindsey that Holly quickly ended when they led to the subject of Bryce.
What more was there to say?
Going over things again and again wouldn’t change them.
As far as Holly knew, the lodge deal was off, and Bryce had returned to Costa Rica, thousands of miles away. One moment she’d lament that thousands of miles wasn’t nearly far enough, and the next she’d long for him to be closer. Either way, her heart hurt.
Deeply.
Painfully.
Achingly.
Thank goodness her grandpa wasn’t the I-told-you-so type, and they could go on without grudges, relieved to have avoided what could’ve been the scourge of Holly’s poor judgment. Her heart wouldn’t heal for a long time, but she was determined not to dwell on her mistakes. She needed to get out and return to her life as it had been before Bryce—busy and happy.
And lonely…
The more Holly pretended that her relationship with him had never happened, the more she hoped she’d believe it.
Her friend Ellie was back in town—presumably brokenhearted, too. Holly had put off getting together with her sooner because she’d been so distracted by Bryce. They’d decided that the best way to catch up was over a big ol’ platter of fried chicken at the Canary. After a hundred years in business, fried chicken was still the only entrée on the menu at Thistle Bend’s most iconic restaurant—an upscale, Victorian-style, white-tablecloth establishment. Both she and Ellie could use some comfort food, and everything was reliably delicious at the Canary.
They had scored the choice table in the main dining room, famous for being the location where Carden’s brother, Travis Crenshaw, had proposed to Emily Parker about sixteen months ago—the one-hundredth wedding proposal at the Canary, and it had happened during their one-hundredth year. At the time, owners Tansy and Oscar Karlsson had hated that a member of the family they’d been feuding with for generations had garnered that distinction. But thanks to Lindsey and the Montgomery sisters, the bitter feud had since been resolved. There was even a plaque over the table designating it as the historical site of the hundredth engagement, and naming Travis and Emily as the happy couple—an affirmation of peace between the Karlssons and Crenshaws that the townspeople never expected to see.
“Seems like I missed a lot of drama while I was away,” Ellie said. Her brownish-blond hair looked more golden than it had when Holly had seen her recently in Calypso Coffee, its natural waves framing Ellie’s pretty face.
Holly was glad that Ellie had missed the drama of her so-called relationship with Bryce; that way she wouldn’t have to talk about it—at least not tonight. The fried chicken was extra delicious and she had no intention of ruining her dinner.
Holly swallowed a juicy bite. “There’s always something going on around here, and someone’s always talking about it. It won’t take you long to catch up.” She blotted her mouth with her napkin. “I was sorry to hear about you and Noah.” Her heart went out to Ellie. Holly could definitely relate to the pain of a breakup—and Ellie and Noah had been engaged.
Ellie blinked her large blue eyes several times. “It’s a little easier for me to say this now than it was a month ago—and really mean it. But it’s better to be alone than with the wrong guy.”
“We should put that on a plaque somewhere,” Holly quipped.
Or tattoo it on my forehead.
“I’m hoping for better times now that I’m back in Thistle Bend.” Ellie pressed her lips together and nodded, seeming as reluctant to talk about what had happened between her and Noah as Holly was to rehash what had occurred with her and Bryce.
Holly chose not to push, considering she was hoping for similar courtesy from others.
“Milly and Merri said that you’re moving into their guesthouse.” Holly spread homemade strawberry preserves on a fluffy biscuit. “What a dream—living up there and working with them.”
“Should be a hoot,” Ellie said. “And I’ll definitely learn a lot from them. But my dream is to make a living from selling my art.” She sighed. “And to forget about men for a good, long time.” Her eyes welled with tears and she rolled her lips inward, clearly trying to gather herself. “I think I’m going to hit the ladies room before they bring dessert.” She stood and hurried toward the back of the restaurant.
Holly hated to see Ellie so sad. She also hated knowing that her own heart would still be hurting a month from now, just like Ellie’s was.
And a year from now…And for God knows how long.
Chatter between the hostess and some arriving guests drew Holly’s attention to the foyer of the restaurant, where the atmosphere had become livelier. The Montgomery sisters had arrived for dinner, looking adorable in their tea-length dresses—Merri in rose satin, Milly in lavender lace.
Holly’s heart plummeted. Outside of the farmers market, Milly and Merri were rarely seen around
town. Of course they would happen to show up at the Canary tonight. As much as Holly loved the little ladies, they were the last people she wanted to see right now.
Except for Bryce.
Proving yet again that neither of them missed a thing, Merri set her gaze on Holly, and Milly’s followed a beat afterward. Their smiles lit up the room as they promptly stepped over to the table, leaving the hostess trailing behind them.
“We’re so pleased to see you, Holly,” Merri said, glancing curiously at the empty chair on the other side of the table.
Holly stood and gave each of the sisters a hug.
Milly tipped up her nose and inhaled deeply. “Smells as if the chicken is particularly tasty this evening.”
How could she possibly have known?
Holly pressed her hand over her belly. It wouldn’t be flat long if she kept eating like she had been tonight. “It is. Ellie and I are really enjoying it.” She leaned in close to the ladies and whispered, “But she got a little emotional about Noah and excused herself to go to the ladies’ room.”
“Bless her sweet heart,” Merri said. “She’ll get through it.”
Milly nodded. “We’ll all be here for her to make sure that she does.”
Merri leveled her sparkly blue-eyed gaze on Holly. “And how are you holding up?”
Holly’s pulse raced. Clearly Merri was asking how she was holding up since everything had fallen apart with Bryce.
Thankful that there were no diners at nearby tables at the moment, Holly took a bolstering breath and said, “I’m okay,” although “okay” was really pushing it. “I appreciate that you tried to save me some heartache by hinting at Bryce’s secret when we were all together at the Princess, but I just didn’t catch on.” Merri’s pointed words to Bryce had played over and over in Holly’s mind.
“I’m certain you understand why we’d like to keep this quiet.”
Every time it repeated, Holly chastised herself for not considering that there had been a deeper meaning in Merri’s message.
“I wasn’t trying to do that at all,” Merri said with a small smile, and Milly shook her head.
Holly drew her head back, her brow furrowed. “You weren’t?”
Merri grasped Holly’s hand and met her gaze. “Every secret has its time,” she said, sounding wise, although Holly wasn’t certain what she meant.
Milly nodded. “Some are meant to be kept forever. Others are meant to be revealed when the time is right.”
“It was never our intent to tell anyone what we’d guessed.” Merri kept hold of Holly’s hand, clutching it tightly. “We didn’t know that Carden had overheard our conversation about Bryce and his father. And poor Carden had no idea it was a secret.”
Holly smiled ruefully. “At least I found out before…”
Before what? Before she’d fallen too hard? Before her heart had gotten broken?
“It wasn’t time for Bryce’s secret,” Merri said.
“You’re right.” Holly’s throat tightened as she fought a wave of emotion. “It was way too late. I would’ve been better off if I had known from the start that he was Adam Evanston’s son. Then I never would have…”
Milly raised her eyebrows. “Never would have what?” she asked gently.
Holly bit her bottom lip and shifted her gaze from one sister to the other, the eager expressions on their sweet faces encouraging her to admit what she’d done.
She swallowed hard. “Fallen in love with him.” Her words were little more than a whisper. She hated to admit it to anyone—especially to herself.
“Did Bryce say why he didn’t tell you that he was Adam’s son?” Merri asked.
Holly pictured him standing by the fire along the riverbank, his broad shoulders silhouetted in the moonlight. “He said, ‘I couldn’t tell you I was his son. Because if I had, you would’ve never given me a chance.’ ”
Merri pursed her pink lips. “Was he right?”
Holly nodded. “I wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with him. I certainly wouldn’t have agreed to become his lawyer.”
“But you had no idea that Bryce was related to Adam,” Milly said, “and you saw all the good in him just like we did—and we knew right away who he was.”
Holly didn’t bother denying it. The sisters were shrewd. No doubt they’d seen how smitten she had been with Bryce when they’d all met at the Princess.
“He saw the good in you, too,” Merri said. She lifted Holly’s hand and ran her small knobby-knuckled thumb along the shiny surface of Holly’s silver cuff bracelet. “When it comes to Bryce, I think you should remember what your grandma would say.”
Holly nodded slowly, blinking back tears.
Always love.
Chapter 22
LOS HALCÓN, COSTA RICA
Bryce sat in his office at Los Halcón, reviewing the most recent profit-and-loss statement for the third time, still struggling to focus. He’d been back from Thistle Bend for more than two weeks—seemed as if that should be long enough for his mind to stop wandering there so often.
Wandering back to Holly.
He’d sent her a payment for the time she’d spent working on the lodge closing, but the check hadn’t yet been cashed. And stupidly, every time his phone rang or pinged with a text, he’d hurry to check the screen, hoping to see her name.
So far, he hadn’t.
How long would it be before he stopped hoping for something that clearly wasn’t going to happen? He’d been through this same exercise after Whitney had disappeared from his life, but this time it hurt so much more.
He gazed out the large picture window at the view of the rolling mountains in hazy hues of green and purple—not as rugged as the Rockies, but amazing in their own right. The scenery was beautiful and serene, but not nearly as spectacular as the view from his villa. The one he had hoped to show Holly.
“Don’t even tell me about it. I don’t want any preconceived notions. I’d rather be completely surprised and blown away when I see it.”
She never would, at least that he’d know of. That was a moment they wouldn’t share, along with thousands of others that were never to be. To make things worse, that thought crossed his mind now every time he woke up to that view. Every time it caught his eye.
George had called yesterday about the lodge in Thistle Bend, but Bryce let the call go to voicemail. The sale had been on hold since the landslide. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t already told George that the deal was off. Maybe because he had paid Nick and the Thistle Bend civil engineering team to quietly come up with options for repairing the pass, along with a real cost analysis. They’d done the work quickly, and Nick had sent the report a week ago, but Bryce had done little more than scan it. After all, what was left for him in Thistle Bend?
A sharp rap on the door snapped him to attention. “Come in.”
Bryce’s assistant manager, Enrique Perez, stepped into the office. Short, stout, and energetic, with a jolly face and a head full of thick black hair, Enrique was Bryce’s most valuable employee, by far. He’d worked for James for years, and Bryce was thrilled when he’d agreed to stay on and teach Bryce the ropes after he inherited Los Halcón. Enrique had also kept the place running smoothly while Bryce had been in Thistle Bend.
“Hey, boss man,” Enrique said with a smile. He glanced at the papers on Bryce’s desk and furrowed his brow. “Still reviewing the P and L? Thought you’d be happy enough with one look-through.”
It was a positive report. Business was good. Bryce wished he could muster more enthusiasm for it—or for anything. Even his adventure sports didn’t give him the rush they used to.
“Just making sure it all adds up,” Bryce said, although he could tell that Enrique noticed a difference in him.
Not the type to ask too many questions, Enrique nodded. “There’s a guest having a drink in La Perca. Said they wanted to talk to the owner.”
Bryce struggled not to look irritated. They prided themselves on guest satisfaction at Los Halcón,
but he wasn’t up for gripping and grinning right now—especially if the guest was going to complain. He glanced at his watch: 2:11.
“What are they doing in La Perca? It doesn’t open until three.” After that, guests would be coming and going until 2 a.m. La Perca—the Perch—was one of the most popular spots at the resort, a laid-back lounge sixty feet off the ground, nestled in the branches of a century-old kapok—a tree considered sacred by the Mayans. It was tastefully screened in with a big teak bar, sloped cane-wood ceilings, and a thatched roof. The couches and chairs were deep and cushioned, perfect for relaxing with a tropical cocktail—or two.
Enrique lifted his square shoulders. “They were curious—and thirsty. Figured it couldn’t hurt.”
Bryce tipped his head. “You’re right. Besides, I could use a change of scenery.”
Enrique nodded, seeming pleased that he’d accomplished his mission.
Bryce stepped out of his office, then made his way past the vast open-air check-in area and along one of many paths beneath the thick canopy of the rain forest, alive with the rustle of animals, the chirp of tree frogs, and the songs of rare birds. They had little need for music at the resort beyond an occasional wind chime—the rain forest came with its own soothing soundtrack.
As he neared La Perca, he smoothed his hands over the front of his bright blue ventilated button-up shirt, neatened the cuffs where he’d rolled up the sleeves, and checked his khaki slacks to make sure they passed muster. Bryce was serious about his staff portraying a professional yet casual image. The least he could do was set an example.
He reached the base of the switchback staircase that led to La Perca. Since this section of forest was on a slope, the stairs had been built so that guests had only forty of the sixty feet to climb. He headed up, thankful that the knee he’d busted on the Wild Ridge Trail in Thistle Bend was no longer reminding him of his fall every time he took a step.
Reminding him of Holly.
The door creaked a little as he opened it, and he made a mental note to oil the hinges. He could have a staff member do it, but this was his resort. He liked pitching in.
