No Better Man (19 page)

He might’ve lied back then, but there was no point now. He’d always been able to tell Mom most anything and it’d never seemed to shock her or change her opinion of him. He sighed. “We ended up…kissing. But I had a flashback. To the accident.”

“Oh, son.” Surprisingly, the words weren’t scolding. They were just plain sad. “You have to protect a woman’s heart. You can’t be with her that way until you’re ready to move on.”

“I’d sure as hell like to move on.” So why couldn’t he? Why couldn’t he make himself forget?

She expelled the same deep motherly sigh he’d heard a thousand times and leaned against the porch railing. “How do you expect to move on when you don’t even acknowledge Yvonne? When you pretend like she never even existed?”

The accusation raised his defenses. “I don’t—”

“You don’t talk about her,” she interrupted. “Or look at pictures or even let yourself remember. You can’t erase her from your heart.”

“I wasn’t trying to erase her.” He was trying to survive.

“You packed away everything in those boxes and shoved it all in the attic,” Mom said quietly. “All of the pictures, your wedding album, even that lovely painting of Maroon Bells you got for your wedding. You hid it all.”

He’d hidden it all because everything reminded him of her. Everything she’d touched or admired had suddenly made him angry, and it was either pack it away or break it—rip it apart until some of the agony subsided.

“I know it hurts to think of her, to let those memories be real.” She squeezed his hand tightly in hers, and somehow that small gesture made him feel stronger. “But if you want to move on, son, you have to embrace that pain. You can’t forget her. You have to embrace her as part of you before you can open your hands and let it all go.”

He smiled down at Mom, the one who’d always held his hand, the one who’d spanked him more times than he could count, the one who’d loved him no matter what, the one who’d picked him up off the ground every time he fell, literally and figuratively.

She smiled back, her eyes shining with tears. “You’re worthy of a good life, Bryce. A future. A family. You’re worthy of love.”

“Thank you,” he said, for all of it. For refusing to give up on him. For telling him the truth, day after day, year after year, even when he refused to hear it. “I know what I need to do,” and even just the thought of it raked him with fear.

But he’d do anything. Now that he’d met Avery, he finally had a reason to let the past go.

A
very wrapped the bathrobe tighter around her shoulders and perched on the edge of the soft leather sofa. Directly across from her, a massive window framed the craggy peak behind Aspen Mountain. Below it, ski runs stretched down, glowing green islands in the sea of shimmering pines and golden aspen trees. Overhead, dense gray clouds had started to crowd out the blue sky, giving the scene a gloomy feel, which fit her mood perfectly.

She panned her gaze across The Knightley suite. From the mahogany four-poster bed, piled high with white pillows and a fluffy comforter, to the sparkling granite countertops in the fully-stocked kitchen, the place exuded opulence. Everything seemed to be plated with silver or gold. The fabrics shone with that silken look. Even the wood floors gleamed with what looked like a fresh coat of wax. When she’d walked through the door, she’d discovered an extravagant array of fruits and vegetables, meats and cheeses, along with collection of fine red wines. An hour later, some poor bellboy had had to come and gather it all into the refrigerator.

This was her life—money and extravagance and all of the notoriety that went along with her father’s name. But for all the hotel offered her, it didn’t comfort the way the lodge had, with its musty smells and faded quilts and dusty log accents. It didn’t offer Elsie’s hospitality or her warm accepting hugs. And though the food looked good, it couldn’t possibly compete with one of Elsie’s meals.

She missed the ranch.

Across the room, a plasma television perched precariously on the mantel of a grand fireplace encased with white and silver-swirled marble. The Cubs game hummed in the background.

There was a time she would’ve been glued to the game, biting her nails even, but she could hardly pay attention. For the last half hour, she’d been perusing the Internet instead, trying to find a new site for the resort before she broke the news to her father that Bryce’s ranch wasn’t available. Good thing he’d gone golfing with Mayor Pendleton for the day. That had given her time to prepare.

She’d found a couple acreages that could work, though both were much farther outside of town. One near Snowmass and one up north. Neither one had the views but that simply meant they’d have to build something extraordinary to make up for it. She shut down her laptop, snatched the remote off the coffee table, and turned off the game. Dad had planned some big dinner with the mayor, a couple of city council members, and who knew what other bigwigs tonight, which meant she had to get dressed.

A knock halted her progress and damn it if she didn’t gasp in a hopeful breath.
Bryce?

“Avery! It’s Vanessa!”

She squealed and leapt off the couch. Not as good as her first choice, but definitely the next best thing. She padded to the door and unlatched it, swinging it open wide to give her friend a hug. She so needed a friend right now, and Van was about the best friend anyone could ask for.

Vanessa bounded in, bringing along the happy scent of perfume as peppy and bright as she was.

“Hey, chica.” She fluffed Avery’s damp hair and cycloned into the sitting room, dragging her suitcase behind her.

Avery followed. “What are you doing here?” Already her presence had taken the edge off the loneliness that had made her feel as heavy as those clouds outside.

“Edward flew me out,” Van informed her. “He’s got some project he wants me to work on, though I have no idea what it is.” She turned and slapped a hand on her hip, eyeing Avery up and down. “Besides that, I had to get out here and find out what the hell is going on with you.”

“What do you mean?” Avery asked, trying to sound as innocent as a Disney princess.

“Uh huh. Don’t bother with me, missy. I know you too well.” She meandered to the bar and picked up one of the wine bottles, studying the label carefully. “You’ve been gone almost two weeks, girl.” She stabbed the corkscrew into the cork and twisted until it popped. “I’ve never known you to stay on a business trip for more than three days. Not even in Barbados.”

Yes, that was true. Yet another reminder of her workaholic tendencies. Until this week, that was: she’d hardly worked at all since meeting Bryce. Even then, when she’d been checking e-mail or looking over a project proposal, he’d crept into her thoughts and derailed her productivity. And yes, of course, her heart started to flutter just thinking about him, which meant it was only a matter of time before her face flushed. She gazed out the window at the emerald mountainside so Vanessa wouldn’t see. “Things haven’t gone as smoothly as I’d hoped.”

“No shit.” Vanessa sipped her wine and perched on the sofa. “How’s the concussion?” she asked, her tone teetering on sarcasm.

“I feel great.” She would’ve sounded a lot more convincing if she could’ve mustered some enthusiasm, but she was clean out, which meant it was time to change the subject. “How’s Logan, by the way?” Yesterday, Vanessa had sent her a text to let her know she was taking Logan to Avery’s place so he could pick up some of his things.

“You know him,” she answered with a smirk. “Always the eternal optimist.” Her grin faded. “By the way…I took him out for a drink after we locked up at your place. I hope that’s not weird or anything.”

“Are you kidding?” Avery gasped and turned to face her friend. Those two would be perfect for each other! Why had she never thought of it before? “That’s great, Van. Really. He’s a quality person.”

A grin brought out Vanessa’s dimples. “Yeah. He really is.” She scooted to the edge of the couch. “But enough about him. I want to hear all about
Bryce Walker
.” She rolled the
r
’s in an exotic accent.

A prick on Avery’s cheeks warned of another oncoming blush. Her eyes wandered back to the safety of the window. “What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with why you two were on some secret, romantic horseback ride in the middle of nowhere, shall we?”

“I was trying to get to know him better. So I could convince him to sell.”

“Mmmm hmmmm.” Van set her wineglass on the coffee table. “Don’t you hold out on me, sister. I Googled the man and he is one fine example of God’s talent, I’ll tell you that much.”

Van had no idea. Her body temperature shot up about thirty degrees.
Yeah.
She needed a drink, too. Trying to outrun Van’s questions, Avery hurried to the bar and poured a glass of wine.

When she turned back around, her friend looked her over, one brow raised in omniscience, then slapped a hand over her mouth. “You slept with him!”

“Not exactly.” She sank into the chair next to the sofa and sipped the dry red wine. “I guess we almost did, but…”

“But what?” Van demanded, as if no possible explanation could possibly suffice.

“His wife died three years ago. He’s definitely not over her.” A long sigh pushed her back against the plush leather. “He’s amazing, though. So real and thoughtful.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Van motioned for her to get to the point before she lost interest. “And he looked like he could bench press a pick-up truck, too. Let’s discuss that. I’m guessing he has a six-pack. Am I right? Surely you saw it…” Her teasing expression fished for details.

Avery tipped her glass and sipped more wine to fend off that annoying burn deep in her chest. “He’s definitely good looking.”

“Good looking?” her friend blurted. “
Mamacita
, he’s hotter than a July night in a Vegas strip club.”

“Sure. Yeah.” She wasn’t about to deny that Bryce had some serious sex appeal. “But he’s also one of the best people I’ve ever met. Complicated.” That was for sure. “But one of the best.”

Her friend’s dark eyes gleamed. “You have feelings for him.”

“Yes.” Her body sunk under the weight of it. “I see something in him I’ve never seen in anyone.”

Van’s smile got all dreamy, like she was watching the end of a chick flick, but then her eyes went wide like she’d just realized the story wouldn’t end in a happily ever after. “Shit, Avery. Have you told Edward?”

“No,” she admitted. “There’s no reason to. I can’t be with someone who’s clearly still in love with someone else.”

“Are you sure he’s still in love with her?”

“Pretty sure.” Why else would he have walked out on her? She still didn’t know what had triggered his hasty retreat. One minute, he was kissing her, telling her he wanted her like he’d never wanted anyone else, and the next he was sitting on the side of the bed looking like he’d just witnessed a train wreck.

Van crossed her long legs and donned her know-it-all frown. She considered herself skilled in a variety of areas—therapy, medical mysteries, supernatural phenomenon. The woman watched a lot of TLC.

“Sometimes people hide behind loss when they’re afraid of what they’re feeling,” she intoned as if she’d suddenly earned a PhD.

Today, apparently, Van was a grief counselor. Smiling at her friend’s suddenly serious face, Avery finished off her wine and slid the glass onto the table. “Maybe. But I can’t fix that for him.” Just like she hadn’t been able to fix it for her father. She’d tried. God knew, she’d tried. And meanwhile, her life had passed her by, the minutes ticking away while she sat in meetings and wrote e-mails and traveled to various sites around the world, pumping every ounce of energy and inspiration into work. All of which she did while sleeping alone. She didn’t want her bed cold anymore. She wanted it the way it had felt with Bryce, warm and intimate. Even if she couldn’t be with him, he’d opened her up to new possibilities; he’d revived her and exposed her to a depth of passion she hadn’t even known existed. He’d made her want more.

Her heart shifted hard in her chest, making her feel reckless and free as she gazed out at the mountains. Just like Bryce, she had a choice. She could choose her own freedom. “I don’t want to go back,” she said, eyes captivated by the swirling clouds.

It looked like change was coming, a storm…

“What do you mean?” Van asked.

“To Chicago. To work. I don’t want to go back.” Now that she’d said it, it felt like the easiest decision she’d ever made.

“Whoa, chica. That’s huge. Let’s take a step back here…”

She turned to her friend, the fiery energy inside of her gaining momentum. “I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t belong there.”

Van blinked at her a few times, as if letting the information soak in. “What do you want to do, then? Stay here?”

Yes.
That was exactly what she wanted, but life had taught her that you don’t always get exactly what you want. “I can’t stay here.” This was Bryce’s community, his life. “I don’t know where I’ll go. Maybe to California.” That’s where a group of her grad school friends had started their own consulting business. They’d been trying to recruit her for years.

“What the hell would you do in California?” Van demanded, as if insulted that Avery would even consider moving away from her.

“I don’t know.” The spinning wheels in her brain propelled her body into motion. She paced across the soft shag rug in front of the fireplace. “Whatever I want. I have a marketing degree. An MBA from Harvard, for crying out loud. I can get a job.”

“Oh, boy,” Vanessa mumbled with a worried shake of her head. “Edward’ll have a coronary, Avery.”

“He’ll understand,” she insisted, her fists clenched. Eventually. He loved her. She had to believe he loved her enough to accept her decision, to let her go. Maybe not now…

But hopefully someday he’d understand.

Why the hell had he suggested this, again?

Bryce glanced out the passenger side window of Ben’s rented Jeep. The two-hundred-foot dropoff below him seemed to roll on and on forever, all twisted tree roots and piles of boulders and loose shale that had slid down from the cliff hovering precariously above them. He cleared his throat so he could breathe. Small puffs of steam rose from his mouth, but it still felt like someone had shoved their fist all the way down into his chest.

It didn’t help that the clouds above them had sunk low, shrouding the peaks in a dull gray. He inhaled the crisp, cold smell that warned of an incoming blizzard. Bad time to be caught in an open-air Jeep. On the side of a cliff. He zipped up his fleece and blew warmth into his freezing hands.

“You okay?” Ben asked, eyeing him, but also keeping his focus on the rutted Jeep road, thank the lord, because one wrong move and they’d roll down the cliff. Been there, done that. Had no desire to do it again.

“I’m great.” His voice had gone hoarse. Truth was, he hadn’t been out in a Jeep since the accident. Hadn’t had a reason to go back to the place that haunted him. Not until now, that was. Not until the day Avery King had walked into his office.

Fear clashed with resolve and started an uprising in his stomach.
Moving on
. He was moving on, and this had to be done. For three years, he’d avoided coming out here, to the backcountry where he and Yvonne had spent so much time together. This was where most of his memories lived—all those times they’d hiked and fished and camped out, making love under the stars. He hadn’t been able to face it, like being alone out here would somehow make her death real.

But it was time.

“Now that’s a cliff.” Gritting his teeth, Ben slowed the Jeep and leaned over the steering wheel. “Good thing I opted for the insurance package.”

Bryce laughed. Felt good to release some of the pressure. “Just make sure you hug the right side of the road.”

“Road? You call this a road?” Ben asked, but his eyes held that look of conquest. That’s why he’d asked Ben to do this with him. The guy lived for adventure. Well, that and he’d recently lost his father so Bryce figured he’d understand why he had to go to the last place he’d seen Yvonne alive. He couldn’t have driven himself. Didn’t know if he’d ever be able to drive on a Jeep road again without dry heaving the whole time.

Even with someone else driving, it was tempting, but he took slow, deep breaths and tried to think about something else. Good thing they had other matters to discuss. “So, have you heard anything from your contacts?” he asked and grimaced at the series of bumps that shook him right down to his bones.

Ben slowed the Jeep to a crawl and eased it over a boulder in the center of the road. “Yeah. I’ve got a few buddies interested. You still want to go the investors route?” His hands were securely fastened at ten o’clock and two o’clock. “Or do you want me to give you the loan? It’s no problem, Walker.”