No Better Man (18 page)

A
ll set.
Avery zipped the carry-on and set it on the floor, glancing around to make sure she’d gotten everything. With her legs confined by her black pencil skirt, feet teetering in her shiny black heels, she edged around the bed and carefully made it, smoothing out the quilt, already missing its weight over her. Who knew quilts were so warm?

After Bryce had walked out on her, she’d found comfort under that quilt, though she hadn’t slept much. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him…
felt
him, his hands on her, his lips against hers. The memory sparked again, moving through her in a slow heat. Battling it back once again, she arranged the pillows on the bed.

As soon as the early pink sunrise had glowed in her window, she’d gotten up and reclaimed Avery King, the professional, because that side of her, the logical and practical side, made much better decisions. So she’d packed away the jeans, the flowered tops, and the hiking boots, and dressed the part she played so well. Maybe a skirt and silky blouse and uncomfortable shoes would make it easier to say good-bye to Bryce.

With one last look around the room and an overwhelming sense of nostalgia, she opened the door. Rolling her luggage behind her, Avery tried to maintain a confident posture as she marched down the hall.

She shouldn’t have gotten that close to him. She’d known better, but he’d been so shaken. Goose bumps spread down her arms. God, the way Bryce had held her and touched her… like he
needed
her. A shiver coursed through her body. She hadn’t been able to think, not even one clear thought under the influence of his powerful hands, of his body against hers. Seeing him so vulnerable had gotten to her.

This was her fault and now she had to leave. She couldn’t stay here every day and see him. Besides, now that she knew he had an investor, it was time to start looking for other build sites. She’d stay at The Knightley in town and start investigating today. It would give her something to focus on, maybe ease the sense of loss that weighed her down, even though she’d never had him in the first place.

Inside the foyer, she inhaled the scent of a hearty breakfast—something crisp and sweet. One of Elsie’s masterful concoctions, no doubt, but for once in her life she wasn’t hungry.

Rays of early morning sunlight beamed through the picture windows along the back wall of the sitting room. After parking her luggage by the door, she followed her usual path past clusters of furniture and into the dining room, where dishes clanged. The scent of strong coffee reminded her of Dad. She could almost hear him saying,
You’re a King for God’s sake. Act like it
. In his opinion, Kings didn’t sulk and they didn’t let regret sink too deep before casting it aside with a new plan, a new deal, a new project.

So she straightened her shoulders, and stalked past the fireplace.

“Morning dear!” Elsie greeted her with a hug.

“Hi, Elsie.” The woman’s arms felt so warm and welcoming that Avery snuck a couple of extra seconds sheltered in her embrace. What she would give to have a motherly presence, a nurturing voice of wisdom in her life. So much for battling the longing, the regret. It swelled through her until tears heated her eyes.

Maybe she wasn’t really a King after all.

Elsie pulled back and looked her over. A frown puckered her lips. “Why, don’t you look…” She paused as though searching for the right word. “…businesslike today.”

Tears blurred Avery’s vision but she fought back with a smile.

Unfortunately, Elsie wasn’t fooled. Her head slanted to the side. “Avery, dear. What’s the matter?” Her blue eyes might’ve been watered down with age, but somehow they saw more than Avery wanted them to. “Didn’t you sleep well?”

“I slept okay.” She quickly ducked to the table and found a seat before Elsie could read the truth in her eyes. “I still have a headache. That’s all.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Elsie murmured as she scurried to the other side of the table. “Nothing a good breakfast won’t fix, though. I whipped up buttermilk waffles with strawberry sauce.” She spread her arms in grand presentation. “There’s also a warm bacon quiche. Everyone needs a good dose of protein in the morning.”

She gazed at the offering displayed in front of her. Steam curled off the perfectly browned quiche. Plump strawberries swam in a sugary sauce. The mixture of emotions that had filled her stomach seemed to dissipate in the presence of such extravagance. A low rumble somewhere deep inside begged for a taste of the sweet and savory food.

This sure beat the protein smoothies she made at home.

“Elsie.” She shook her head in awe. “This is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Except maybe on the Food Network. “It’s a good thing I’m not staying another night. If I keep eating this way, I’ll gain a hundred pounds.”

“Not staying?” Elsie paused next to her, the coffee pot dangling from her hand. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Oh.” She tried to keep her expression neutral—businesslike—and picked up the serving spoon. “I’m going to stay in town. With my father.” She concentrated on heaping piles of food onto her plate and ended up with way too much.

“But why, dear?” The older woman’s body slowly deflated to a chair next to her, the coffee pot still dangling in her hand like she’d forgotten about it. “Why do you have to stay in town?”

Because I can’t seem keep my hands off of your wounded son
. He’d already jerked her heart a couple times and it was starting to feel a bit fragile. “Oh, you know. We have projects to start. I’ve put things on hold long enough. Time to jump back in.”

“Have you told Bryce?”

“Not yet.” She slipped in a bite of waffle and let it melt in her mouth. One mention of his name was all it took to fluster her. Instead of a dainty bite, it felt like she was trying to swallow a snake. “Will, he, uh, join us for breakfast?”

Elsie popped up as if she suddenly remembered she was holding the coffee pot. She leaned over to fill Avery’s mug. “I’ll tell you what. That boy is in a mood today.” She set the coffee pot on the table. “He never misses breakfast when I’m cooking, mind you, but when I went to find him, he said he wasn’t hungry.”

“Huh.” Avery folded and refolded the napkin in her lap. “That’s weird.”

“It’s a lie, that’s what it is. Bryce is always hungry.”

Avoiding the woman’s curious glance, Avery lifted her spoon to stir the strawberry sauce on the plate. Somehow, that woman saw right through her.

“Anyway,” she said through a sigh, “I reminded him we have a guest and told him he didn’t have a choice.” A quiet
harrumph
accentuated her authority. “He’ll be here shortly.”

“Good. That’s great.” The tremor in her voice weakened her confidence. It would be easier if she didn’t have to see him, if she could hug Elsie good-bye and waltz out of there without having to look into Bryce’s eyes again.

“Are you sure you’re all right, dear? You look upset.” This time, Elsie scooted into a chair across the table, which made it hard to avoid her eyes.

“Nope,” Avery chirped. “Everything’s fine. I’m just tired.”

“I suppose that’s to be expected when you’ve been through such a terrible ordeal.” Elsie held her mug in both of her hands like she wanted to warm them. “Did Bryce call and wake you last night? He was so worried about you.”

Her face burned. “Mmm hmmm. Yes. He sure did.”

The sweet older woman looked at her thoughtfully. “Did something happen—?”

Somewhere nearby, a door crashed open. Bryce plowed into the room but stopped when he saw her. His entire body went stiff, as if the sight of her had turned him to stone.

She instantly looked down at her plate. He must have blamed her, too.

“There you are.” Elsie gestured to the seat on her left. “I’ve got your plate all ready.”

“Thanks, Ma.” Without a glance in her direction, Bryce plopped down across from her, chin nearly touching his chest, eyes focused on the food.

Silence expanded in the room until her eardrums thrummed. She stuffed bites of waffle in her mouth and stared at the bacon quiche so hard it seemed to shimmer.

“I guess this will be our last breakfast together,” Elsie finally said sadly.

That seemed to get Bryce’s attention. His head snapped up and for the first time since he’d come in, he actually looked at her instead of through her. “What?”

Oh, those eyes. Those striking green eyes. She distanced herself from him with a glance at her watch. “I’m leaving today,” she said as though reporting it to the board of trustees. “My car will be here any minute.”

Bryce’s tense face went soft and, damn him, he looked at her the way he had right before he’d kissed her. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Actually, I do.”
Smile.
“My father and I have to research a new site for the resort. There’s so much to do.” It was a grand performance. Dad would’ve been proud. Apparently all those years of pretending everything was fabulous had rubbed off on her. Ignoring the elephant in the room had become a carefully honed talent.

Unfortunately, Bryce didn’t possess the same skill. He drilled his gaze into hers. She swore he had superhuman powers—he cut straight to her heart with his eyes.

“Avery.” The way Bryce uttered her name said so much—that he was as tortured, sorry, and conflicted as she was.

Elsie planted her hands on the table, her gaze bouncing back and forth between them. A worried look crinkled her forehead. “My goodness! I nearly forgot the muffins. I’ll be right back.” She practically leapt to her feet and bustled away, obviously wanting to give them time alone.

But being alone with him would make it harder for her to stay strong. She breathed in. She had to stay strong…

After the kitchen door shut, Bryce reached for her hand, but she pulled away before he could touch her. “I can’t stay here, Bryce. I can’t.”
I want you too much.
And she had to protect her heart.

His chin dipped toward his chest, but his eyes peered up at her. “I don’t want you to leave.” The words were raw, so desolate they made her eyes sting again.

“I’m not enough,” she choked out. “I can’t make you forget. I can’t make the memories of your accident go away. I would if I could.” But he had to be the one to choose his freedom. Her father never had. “I’m sorry.” She wadded up her napkin and let it fall on the table.

It was time to say good-bye.

He was losing her.

Bryce stared down at the food Mom had piled in front of him, hands itching to launch it across the room, to break it into a million pieces, to break something.
Damn it.
Damn his past. Damn it all.

“Here we are, dears.” Mom reappeared in the doorway carrying a tray of freshly baked muffins. She set it down in the center of the table with that bright, world-changing smile of hers.

But something told him it couldn’t change this. It couldn’t make Avery stay.

“I can’t eat another bite.” Avery sat back against her chair and rested a hand on her stomach.

He’d felt that exact part of her body last night, her lower abdomen right above her hips. The curve and swell, the warmth…

The weight of desire for her bore down and threatened to crush him.

“I swear, Elsie. I might have to special order your food and have it shipped to Chicago,” Avery said with a pained grimace. “You have a gift.”

So did she. Did she realize it? How she made everyone feel like they were the best person in the world? Avery loved deep, a lot like Mom—he could see it, and he wanted to feel it, too.

“I won’t have to ship the food, dear.” Mom reached over and patted her hand. “You’ll come back and visit. Anytime you want. Promise me you will.”

He detected the gloom in her voice. This was hard on Mom, too. Avery had brought life back to the lodge, with her laughter and energy. She’d brought hope in a way he hadn’t felt for years.

“Of course I’ll come back and visit.” Her eyes met his and he saw right through the words. She wouldn’t come back. Not unless he could give her a reason to.

She glanced at her watch. “I really need to go. I’m sure the car is outside.”

Feeling the distance grow between them, he forced himself to a standing position, trudged to the front doors, and lifted her suitcase.

Silently, they all walked out to the porch.

“Thanks for everything,” Avery said from a good distance away. She seemed afraid to come too close to him, to touch him, and he couldn’t blame her. She’d gotten close to him once and now she was afraid of getting burned again.

“Any time.” He battled the urge to enclose her in his arms, make all kinds of promises he didn’t know if he could keep, and drag her back to his bedroom to finish what they’d started, to show her how much he wanted her. But he only stood there, weighed down by the knowledge that she was right. She wasn’t enough. He couldn’t use her as a remedy for the things that tortured him.

“Please don’t be a stranger.” Mom gave her a long hug, but he hung back.

“I won’t,” Avery lied, pulling away from her. She eased her suitcase down the steps and hurried to the black town car that idled in the parking lot. The driver opened her door and she waved once more. “Thanks again. Take care.”

“Keep in touch!” his mom called, sniffling.

He raised his hand in a silent wave and thought he saw her hesitate. His breath caught, but then she slid into the car and disappeared.

The driver got in and drove away and he watched Avery slip right through his fingers.

“Bryce David Walker.” Mom whirled to face him as the cloud of dust dissipated. “What the hell did you do to her?”

Whoa
. If she was swearing, he knew he was in trouble.

“She seems positively devastated.” Mom stepped closer, those blazing eyes analyzing his face, daring him to lie to her. “And so do you.”

She had one of the most well-honed B.S. detectors he’d ever seen. So he opted for the truth. “She didn’t answer the phone when I called last night, so I went to her room.” It wasn’t as if his mother would be surprised. She probably knew anyway. She had that freakish mother’s intuition that’d always gotten him busted. Like the time he’d snuck out to meet his friends for a midnight climb. Or the time he’d snuck Yvonne into his bedroom when they were fourteen. Mom had busted right in. Said she’d had a “feeling.”