Lucky was an understatement.
“I’m glad you came back,” Katherine said. “It’s good to see you.”
“I’m glad I came too.” There was a sense of peace here. A calm weight to the air. “It’s relaxing.”
“Tonight’s a quiet night. You came at exactly the right time. Normally, the dining room is full until eight or nine. But this is a slow week.”
Which explained why we were the only two in the room except some staffers wandering in and out, checking to see if Katherine needed anything.
After I’d settled into my guest room earlier, I’d called to check in with Benjamin. As expected, he had everything handled and no emergencies to report. But with nothing else to do—something that hadn’t bothered me while I’d been driving because I’d been driving—I’d pulled out my laptop and spent an hour going through emails.
It had felt good to reconnect with that familiar part of me. The person who worked efficiently and effectively, checking boxes off lists and moving things forward.
Except there hadn’t been much to move along. Mostly, it had been correspondence from my financial management team who were still processing the details from my sale of Gemma Lane. Then there’d been a few notes from acquaintances around Boston wondering if the rumors of my hastened exit from the city were true.
Those emails I’d simply deleted. There’d be buzz about my departure for weeks. People would speculate that I’d lost my mind or burned out. They’d gossip about my shortcomings or that the pressure had become too much.
It didn’t matter.
Boston was history and I had no plans to return.
The rest of my afternoon had been spent reading. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d read a book for sheer pleasure. I hadn’t even owned a book, but my room had compensated for my shortcomings. It had come stocked with three different paperbacks in the dresser drawer.
I’d lost myself in a thriller until Katherine had knocked on my door around six for dinner. We’d been talking for hours. I’d told Katherine about my life and she’d told me about hers here at the resort.
My gaze traveled around the room in a slow, appraising circle. The tables were arranged much like a restaurant, in varying sizes, around the space. Katherine had explained that they employed a full-time chef and served both breakfast and dinner here. Sack lunches were available by request, mostly because keeping regular hours with the resort activities was difficult.
A few guests had come down for dinner but had since retired to their rooms. Others must have opted for room service. The guests who rented the chalets—at four thousand dollars per night—had access to a different chef who’d go to their chalets and prepare a private meal.
“This place looks fantastic,” I told Katherine. “When I came in this morning, my first thought was how nothing here had changed. But that’s not true, is it?”
“About four years ago, we started doing some renovations,” she said. “Mostly cosmetic. Paint. Curtains. Art. Bedding. It’s made a difference.”
“It was your idea, wasn’t it?”
She hid her smile in her wine.
The differences had Katherine’s gentle and classic touch written all over them. She’d transformed the resort from lovely to magical.
The subtle differences had escaped my quick inspection earlier. The walls were a brighter shade of white, something that complemented the rich wood ceilings and floors. The chairs in the dining room had once been wooden, but they’d been replaced with cream upholstered pieces that softened the room and brightened the crystal chandelier’s golden light.
It was still rustic, but now there was a chic edge to the decor. It was fancy without being pretentious but would appeal to the wealthy who could afford a vacation here.
“We actually did updates all over the ranch. The stables are a dream these days. You could eat off the floor because Easton insists on keeping them spotless.”
Easton.
I’d seen him earlier from the window in my room. He’d been riding a huge black horse through a meadow in the distance. I’d spied on him until he and his horse had become nothing but a fleck in the green pasture.
But I’d known it was him. I’d recognize Easton’s broad shoulders and black cowboy hat anywhere. I remembered how his dark hair looked when the ends curled at the nape of his neck, and how his strong arms filled out the sleeves of his plaid, pearl-snap shirts.
The thud of boots echoed through the room, drawing me from my musings.
Katherine’s attention darted over my shoulder. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Tingles ran up my spine at the familiar deep rumble.
But I refused to turn and pay Easton any mind. He’d been cold and unfriendly to me for as long as I could remember. Well, except that one night. But after today’s collision by the front door, it seemed nothing had changed.
“What’s up?” Katherine asked him.
“Came to grab some dinner before I go home.”
Home? It was almost nine o’clock at night. Didn’t he have a wife or a girlfriend waiting?
“You remember Gemma, don’t you?” Katherine gestured to me with her wineglass.
I looked over my shoulder and gave him a tight smile.
Easton was standing at my side, his arms crossed over his chest. His jaw was granite and his eyes didn’t so much as flicker my direction.
He ignored Katherine’s reintroduction entirely.
Asshole. “Nice to see you again, Easton. You look . . . older.”
Older. Sexy as hell. Same thing.
He harrumphed, but didn’t bother with any other acknowledgement, addressing only Katherine as he spoke. “I need an hour tomorrow when you have one to go over some schedules. I need to steal a couple of the hands from guest services to help move some steers.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll check my calendar and shoot you a text with the time.”
“Fine.”
“Would you like to join us?” She gestured to the empty seat beside me.
Easton answered by walking out of the room, not sparing me another glance before he disappeared through the door that led to the kitchen.
Wow.
“I see you two still hate each other.”
It had never been hatred. More like two kids who hadn’t realized that hate was actually foreplay.
Katherine stood from her chair and walked over to the bar along the rear wall. She swiped a wine bottle off the shelf, opened it with the corkscrew and brought it to the table. “I’ll probably regret this bottle in the morning.”
“Me too.” I held up my glass.
“How long are you staying?”
“I don’t know. A day or two. Is that okay? If you have an incoming reservation, I can take off tomorrow.”
“No, stay. I’ll need the room back next week. It’s hunting season and we’re booked solid through Christmas. But if you want to stay longer, you can stay at my place. We have a guest bedroom that’s always empty.”
“We?” My eyes darted to her naked ring finger. “I didn’t know you were living with someone.”
“I live with Cash.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize you were together.”
“No, no, no.” She waved it off. “We’re not together. We’re just roommates. And coworkers. And friends.”