by West, Lara
We’re all sitting around the huge oak table in the dining room, a panoramic outlook of the skyline distending around us. This room clearly has the best view of the house, with just saplings, mountains, and sweeping air for miles.
“So did you enjoy the mud run, Lauren?” Delilah asks cordially, placing the huge turkey onto the table.
“Ye—”
“Indeed she did, Mother!” Ridge answers instead, getting up to carve the bird. “For a city girl, she was rather outstanding.”
“I’m not a city girl, actually,” I tell him boldly, putting him in his place. For a moment I think I even see a hint of red blooming in his cheeks. “I grew up in Colorado. I’m used to being outdoors; they’re just not used to me.”
He laughs and bends his head. “My apologies, Miss Colorado.”
But the way Ridge had said Miss Colorado has a double meaning that Clint is all too aware of, and he’s shooting Ridge a look like he wants to punch him in the face.
“I hope you like smores too, Lauren,” Dana announces, immediately changing the subject after eyeing off both of her brothers. “Preston and Emma have been making them for us all day, haven’t you, guys?”
The kids reply in a joyful chorus of “Yes!”
“I love smores!” I say, smirking at them.
“Good, because a Townsend Thanksgiving isn’t complete without a bonfire and toasting smores beneath the stars,” Clint asserts, rubbing my leg under the table and making me cream instantly. I want him so badly.
For the duration of dinner, Clint and I can barely take our eyes off each other. Even when he and Ridge unexpectedly volunteer to go clean up, he keeps finding the time to gaze back at me from the kitchen.
A couple of times, I catch Ridge’s eyes instead of Clint’s, which for some reason also makes me flush. Ridge is playing some kind of game here. I’m not sure what it is or why he’s playing it, but I’m determined to not let it bother me.
It doesn’t help that Delilah and Dana are plying me with old-fashioneds in the meantime.
“It’s another Townsend Thanksgiving tradition,” Delilah states proudly. “Old- fashioneds by the open fire.”
But despite the nice taste and soaring feeling that is beginning to envelope me, the whiskey is also making my thoughts run all the more wild.
Clint and I kissed today.
We’re past a point of no return.
What does that mean for our relationship now?
All I want to do is pull him aside and talk, but just as I get up to do so, Ridge decides to marshal us all outside, the bonfire already lit and waiting for us. I suppose I could hold off for a little bit longer.
But a little bit longer turns into a few more hours as we all sit around the pit, talking and skylarking in the crisp air, the stars flickering brilliantly as we hold our smores over the flames.
As the night goes on and the kids go to bed, we adults have a few more whiskeys around the fire. In my blissful tipsiness, I even forgive Ridge for being a cad, cracking jokes with him about arbitrary things, debating over what state is better—Colorado or South Dakota—yet in the end, unanimously agreeing that both are beautiful places to live in.
Beside me, Clint also seems happy, bantering not only with Delilah, Dana, and me, but moreover with Ridge, like there has never been any animosity or grudge between them, like tonight is a no-war zone where everyone is free to just drink and be merry.
When it’s finally just Clint and me, the silence ebbs, with nothing to break it but the snap and crackle of the bonfire blazing like a heart in the darkness. It sends a shallow glow to where our feet begin, half shadows sitting in the moonlight and breathing cold air into the depths of our lungs. I watch Clint stare intently into the fire, focusing on the embers like they hold some kind of secret he wants to know about. In the splayed light he’s never looked so beautiful, so distant and so quiet. When I turn my eyes away, he takes my hand, pressing it firmly between his and resting it on his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Clint—” I begin to say, but he hushes me, squeezing my hand like he doesn’t want me to say it, like he doesn’t want me to immerse us into a deep conversation that may not have an ending yet.
I still want to ask him about the kiss in the shower and what it all means, but I just don’t have the heart to break his reverie.
And when I leave him there, just before midnight, he’s still staring at the orange sparks, lost in some undertow that I’m yet to understand.
But I hope to, one day, pull him out of.
Chapter Seven
The following morning, I pour myself a cup from the fresh pot of coffee Rosita has made and go to stand out on the deck. Even though it’s just shy of winter, the sun is still warm, stroking its tendrils across me in a comforting embrace.
This manor is a dream home for someone like me, an opulent haven that will definitely never exist on my paycheck.
“It’s a shame you have to fly off this afternoon, Lauren,” Dana says suddenly, walking up behind me. “We were just getting to know you.”
“Likewise,” I say. “But I promised my dad I’d spend a few days with him. He’s not doing so good.”
“Oh? Nothing serious, I hope.”
“He had a mild case of pneumonia a couple of days ago. But I think he’ll be fine. I just need to see him…” My voice trails off when I spot Clint and Ridge charging across the front paddock on their horses. Even the way the Townsend men ride is textbook. They make it look so gallantly easy.
Is there anything those two men can’t do?
“What’s the deal with them?” I ask Dana frankly, biting my lip. “I get the feeling they don’t like each other very much.”
“They do and they don’t,” she answers, her eyes averting away. “I’m not sure if I’m the right person to say anything.”
She changes the topic but I interject, seizing my chance.
“Did they have a fallout over a woman?”
Dana turns to me curiously. “How do you know about that?”
“I don’t. It was just something Clint said yesterday that hinted to it. I don’t think he knows I put the rest together.”
“Well perhaps that’s for the best. It’s a sore spot…for the both of them.” She hesitates, but carries on. “Her name was Catherine and she was a piece of work. Clint dated her first for about a year. Then she cheated on him…with Ridge.” She notices my mouth open in disbelief. “Yeah, it shocked us all too. Clint and Ridge didn’t speak for four years over it.”
Their fallout lasted four years? That’s a tad direr than I thought.
“So, what happened in the end?” I ask, trying not to sound too prying.
“What do you think happened?” Dana sighs. “Catherine cheated again. She wasn’t satisfied with just ripping Clint’s heart out—she had to have Ridge’s as well.”
“She cheated on Ridge? Even after everything that had happened with Clint?”
“Uh-huh, with some polo player who was a good friend of Ridge’s too. Anyway, Ridge was a mess over it. Never seen a grown man look so devastated. But then Daddy died and that seemed to snap him out of it. Ridge took over the company and bounced back. He’s been single ever since.”
“And he and Clint are just—”
“Slowly becoming brothers again,” Dana finishes, scraping out a weak smile.
“Wow, that’s quite a saga between them.”
“Yes, it is. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to either of them that I told you. Clint is better off thinking that he’s the one who told you about it. I’m sure he will, in time.”
I give her a reassuring nod and gaze out to the hills.
“But on a brighter note,” she says, redirecting my attention back. “You and Clint seem very at ease with each other.”
“Yeah, I guess we are,” I say with a small laugh, yet am still thinking about what she has told me. “I mean, we work pretty closely together so it’s bound to happen. I know his moo
ds, he knows mine, etcetera.”
“Of course,” Dana pauses again, turning away to clear her throat. “I wasn’t going to say anything initially—save you some potential awkwardness—but…we all know they’re something going on between you two. The way you look at each other is one thing, but when Ridge caught you both in the shower yesterday…”
I can already feel the ribbons of red on my cheeks.
I don’t know what to say.
What do you say to the sister of your billionaire boss when she says something like that?
“It’s all right, Lauren. In fact, I’m thrilled he’s found someone, particularly someone as down-to-earth and genuine as you seem to be. You balance him out. You’re great for each other.”
As much as I want to agree with her, I can’t.
Clint and I haven’t spoken to each other since the bonfire.
We haven’t even been able to talk about the kiss yet, let alone anything else it may signify about our future.
“Oh, we’re not together, Dana,” I tell her offhandedly. “Our relationship is just professional. Ridge is mistaken.”
But she is no fool.
I forgot for a minute there that she was a Townsend.
They don’t exactly seem like the type of family who would let the wool be pulled over their eyes.
“Hey, you feel free to keep on telling yourself that, but I don’t buy it. I know when my brother likes someone.” She smirks and bumps my shoulder. “Anyway, I have to run. I own a florist in town. I have to make sure the flowers haven’t all gone and wilted on me. It was lovely to meet you though, Lauren. I mean that.”
“You too, Dana,” I say, hugging her briefly before she goes back inside.
I turn back to the paddocks, searching for Clint and Ridge, but they are long gone, coveted by the canopy of trees twisting their way down the slope.
I feel sadness for the both of them. Nobody deserves to be cheated on by somebody that they love, not even Ridge.
I can almost forget his entire behavior this weekend now that I know the source of it.
It’s still no reason to treat Clint with such bitterness, though.
After all, he’s the one who cheated with Clint’s girlfriend, Catherine.
If anyone could be justified by being hateful then it’d be Clint, not Ridge.
But something is also making me question whether Dana knows the whole story. There’s seems to be a part of it missing, a part where Clint comes off looking like the bad guy too.
Regardless of the ending, I can’t help but feel uneasy—a part of me doesn’t want to leave Clint, his family, or this beautiful manor. Just when I was starting to feel at home here, like I almost belonged, like Clint and I were finally becoming closer…I have to go away.
I know if I told Clint everything, if I confronted him about the one-night stand and told him how I feel, he would probably ask me to stay.
But I need to go see my dad too.
Coming back here would have also reawakened dark memories for Clint.
Memories of Ridge and Catherine that must have burned like salt in a wound each time he’d seen me with Ridge, especially yesterday at the mud run.
I can’t expect Clint to give me any clear answers with that kind of headspace, so maybe a few days apart from each other is for the best. That way, it gives us both time to think about what we want and where our hearts truly lie.
Chapter Eight
I never said goodbye to Clint at Townsend Manor because he and Ridge hadn’t made it back on the horses in time.
I’d had to ask Delilah to pass on my apologies to the both of them, and to tell Clint that I would see him back at work the following Thursday.
But the entire time I was in Steamboat Springs, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I even told my dad about it—I don’t know what on earth possessed me to. I guess I needed someone to talk to, seeing as Brooke wasn’t around and Dad had asked about my love life, so it made sense at the time.
Dad was released from the hospital, which was a relief. The doctors told him to take it easy, and that he should probably think about retiring. But in characteristic Dad style, he wouldn’t hear another word about quitting the force.
Yes, my dad works in law enforcement, hence where I get my cautiousness, wit, and sternness.
But I love that he gave me all those things. It’s got me to where I am today and even though that’s a scrambled place right now, I wouldn’t choose it to be any different.
Speaking of scrambled, Clint has just arrived in the office two hours late. He’s walking toward me with a grave expression, like he’s just heard bad news and doesn’t quite know how to handle it.
“Happy Thursday, Lauren,” he says informally. “Ready to go over the schedule?”
I sigh and take a deep breath after he’s walked past.
So it’s back to being strictly business again, is it?
Two can play at that game, buddy.
I take a seat in the client chair closest to his desk, opening up the itinerary to the first page. If he doesn’t at least acknowledge what happened over Thanksgiving, I swear to God I’m going to walk out of this office and never come back.
“So what time is the meeting with Seattle?” he asks shortly.
“Nine thirty,” I say without looking up.
“My lunch appointment with the new investor?”
“Twelve fifty-five at the Gramercy Tavern.”
“The follow-up conference with Kuala Lumpur?”
“Two thirty.”
“And how is your dad?”
I raise my head to look at him. “Better. Thank you.”
“That’s good to hear,” he sighs, “because I’m not sure I can give you any more time off for a while.” He stops to take a breath. “I’m going to need you close by me. Permanently.”
Permanently?
Don’t tell me there’s another trip coming up he hasn’t told me about.
“What is it?” I ask, flipping through the schedule to find if there’s anything important I’ve forgotten about. “Have I missed something?”
“No, you haven’t missed anything, Lauren.”
“Oh,” I say, putting down the itinerary. “Okay, then what’s going on?”
“Lauren, I—” But he suddenly glances away, getting up from his seat to walk over to the arched windows.
“Clint?”
He coughs and sharply turns from the city. “I think, I mean, I, I’m…falling in love with you.”
Ah, I didn’t exactly see that coming.
“What did you just say?” I whisper, not sure if I’ve imagined it or not. He didn’t really say love, did he?
“Lauren, we need to talk about this,” he says, gazing deeply into my eyes. “We need to talk about what happened over Thanksgiving.”
“I—yes, I agree—but you just said—”
“You’re my PA,” he interrupts. “I’m your boss. I really don’t know how this is going to work.”
Well isn’t that the freaking understatement of the year. And the same one I’ve been thinking for the last six months.
“I know,” I retort, yet am not quite sure how to respond to him.
Here we are, finally getting things out, and I can’t find the words.
“Seeing as I’ve said that much, I may as well go full throttle on this,” he states, notably uncomfortable. I’ve never seen him this jittery. “The last six months have been…very hard for me. Every time you walk into this damn office, all I want to do is…oh, I don’t know if I should even say it.”
“Please do,” I implore him. “I think we both need you to.”
He manages a quick nod before he continues. “Every morning that you walk into this office, it’s near impossible for me to take my eyes off you. I mean, do you realize how much of an effect you have on me? I know that you already know I find you very attractive.”
Wait—is he referring to the one-night stand now? When he told me that very same thing in the bar?
“Clint, I—”
“I’m not finished,” he lashes. “I’ve been fighting my feelings for you for months. Why do you think I’ve been so short-tempered lately? It’s hard to control myself when all I want to do is bend you over this desk and—”
“Okay, don’t finish that sentence,” I say, holding up my hand. I can figure out the rest. “It’s all well and good to tell me all this, Clint. I respect you for it and I feel the same way. But…where does that leave us?”
“I don’t know,” he says simply, sitting down at the desk and burying his head in his hands. “I’ve never been in this situation before. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this…”
His muffled voice fades out and, once again, I don’t need him to finish the sentence.
He’s thinking about her.
“I know about Catherine.” It comes out as barely a murmur.
Clint releases his hands from his face and peers at me, the color completely drained from his cheeks. “What? Catherine is none of your business.” He states it so harshly that if I were standing, my legs would have given out beneath me.
“I disagree,” I tell him staunchly. “I think I have a right to know. It sure explains a few things.”
“How long have you known about her?” he asks, ignoring my comment.
“I figured most of it out on the day of the mud run. Dana told me the rest.”
“Dana!”
“Don’t get mad at her; I’m the one who asked her about it. Besides, I already knew something had happened between you and Ridge. It was obvious—you two were bickering all weekend.”
“So let me get this straight,” he verbalizes, his tone getting fiercer. “You surmised, even before Dana confirmed it, that Ridge and I had some kind of falling out over a woman?”
“Yes.”
“All the while having strong feelings for me, correct?”
“Yes.” Where the hell is he going with this?
“And yet you acted like you were best pals with Ridge on Thanksgiving night, cracking jokes with each other and talking about your hometowns around the bonfire—quite flirtatiously, I might add. Some may even say it was downright romantic!”
