Her corner office was enormous, as big as the one I’d had in Boston. The interior walls had floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and the others were lined with windows. A couch and two loveseats angled toward the view occupied half of the room.
It was classy yet comfortable. Inviting and clean. The entire setup suited her completely.
Though Katherine had always fit here.
From the day we’d stepped off the bus, it had seemed like she’d found the place where she’d fit. Today, she looked even more at home, sitting at a fancy desk, wearing jeans and boots, with a picture window at her back and the mountains in the distance.
Her dark hair hung straight and sleek past her shoulders. Its natural shine was something I’d envied as a teenager—adult too. And I had yet to meet a person on earth with bluer eyes than Katherine Gates. They were almost exactly the color of the cloudless sky through the window.
She folded her hands together, leaning on the papers scattered on her desk. Her expression was neutral but there was a wariness in her gaze.
Katherine was six inches shorter than my five seven. She had a petite frame and trim figure. But sitting behind that desk, she was a force of her own. She was the boss and this was her throne.
It was a good look for her.
“How are you?” I asked.
“Good, thanks.” Her tone was polite. Cautious. “You?”
“I’m good.” I crossed my legs, trying to appear relaxed when I was the furthest thing from it. “Carol told me you’re running the resort. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
The silence that followed was excruciating.
What felt like an hour was likely seconds, but the message was clear. Katherine didn’t want me here, so I gave myself a mental shove to get this over with.
Sorry. That was all I had to say. I’m sorry.
So what the hell are you waiting for, Gemma?
“I wanted to—”
The phone on Katherine’s desk rang. She pushed a button to shut it off, but not one second after it quieted, her cell phone began to vibrate. She silenced it too. “What were you saying?”
The confidence I’d summoned evaporated. The last thing I wanted was to fumble through this and risk coming across as hurried and insincere.
“I’m interrupting.” I stood from the chair. “I’ll let you get back to work. Maybe we could meet for coffee later.”
“Today’s crazy. I, um . . . maybe I could take a late lunch around one. But I’d only have thirty minutes.”
I’d dodged many people with the late, short lunch before.
Which meant this was my chance to say my peace and then get the hell off the Greer Ranch.
I recognized when I wasn’t welcome.
“It’s okay.” I gave her a sad smile. “Mostly, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. You were my friend and how I left, what I did, it wasn’t okay.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Yes.”
Katherine stared at me, her expression unreadable. Then slowly, it softened. Warmth spread into her eyes and her hands unclasped. “Are you staying?”
“If you don’t mind.” No matter what Carol said, if Katherine had a problem with me being here, I’d leave.
“No, I don’t mind. I do have a crazy day. I was going to eat lunch at my desk. But maybe we could meet for dinner. In the dining room around six?”
“That would be wonderful.” I let myself out, holding my smile until I was in the hallway. Then I let it stretch as years of regret and guilt vanished.
She doesn’t hate me.
I could leave right this minute and feel like this trip had been valuable. But I wasn’t going to leave. I was going to have dinner with my friend and hopefully rekindle a relationship I’d once held dear. My feet were practically floating as I descended the stairs.
Carol wasn’t at the front desk, so I opted to head outside and collect my suitcase. I opened the door, a smile still on my face, and collided, headfirst, with a wall of muscle.
“Oh, sorry.” I looked up and my heart stopped.
The smell of leather and aftershave filled my nose. I looked up to see a pair of dark brown eyes hooded by long, onyx lashes. I took in the straight nose, the sharp jaw and strong chin. My gaze dropped to the full lips I’d tasted once, on a night eleven years ago.
I’d never seen a face as symmetrical and so beautifully masculine as Easton Greer’s.
Even when he scowled, like he was now, it was a wonder.
He’d gotten even more handsome. How was that possible? He’d transformed from a young man to just a man, man. Rugged and rough and sexy.
“Gemma.” My name came out as a growl in his deep voice and I tore my gaze away from his mouth, taking a step back.
“Hi,” I breathed, the air heavy and thick.
He took a step away, then another, his glare unwavering.
Easton cast his scowl over his shoulder and spotted the Cadillac. “That yours?”
“Yes.”
“You’re staying here.” Not a question. An accusation. If he had it his way, I’d be uninvited.
I lifted my chin. “Yes, I came to see Katherine.”
His jaw ticked. “I thought we’d gotten rid of you years ago.”
Ouch. I guess he was still pissed about that whole sex in his room and waking up to find me gone.
But, good or bad, he hadn’t forgotten me.
Chapter Three
Easton
What the fuck was she doing here?
I stormed through the wide, open barn door and kicked a clump of dirt. “And who the fuck is bringing dirt into my barn?”
I looked around, spotting a four-wheeler parked in the middle of the space that hadn’t been there ten minutes ago. Its wheels were caked with mud. Someone—my grandfather—had probably been driving it around the lower meadow. We’d had a good rain last night and the ground was soggy.
Sure enough, Granddad emerged from behind the tractor at the far end of the building. He had a travel mug in one hand and a wrench in the other. “What’s crawled up your ass this morning?”
“We just swept out this floor.” I pointed to the four-wheeler. “Maybe next time you could park it outside. Save my crew from doing cleanup twice.”
“It’s a barn, Easton.” He frowned. “And in my day, the crews didn’t have much time to sweep.”
My day. For fuck’s sake. The last thing I needed this morning was a lecture about how this ranch had been run in his day.
I clenched my fists and kept my mouth shut before we got into a fight that would have my father playing mediator, my mother reminding me to have patience and Grandma lecturing me about respect.
The bottom line? I’d been put in charge of this ranch but Granddad hadn’t read the memo.
He reminded me daily of how he’d done things in my day. He’d done the same to Dad when Dad had been running the show, though it had never bothered my father the way it irked me. Maybe because Dad and Granddad usually were of the same mind.
They both questioned my decisions. Yet we were thriving because I’d pushed and pushed and pushed to do things differently.
Neither of them had cared if the barn was clean. Granddad was right, he hadn’t had staff to tidy up because both he and Dad had run with a skeleton crew for so damn long that we’d gotten the reputation for burning out ranch hands faster than we could hire their replacements.