No Better Man (23 page)

“Avery!” Van sang from the bottom of the steps.

“Coming!” Energy buzzed through her as she dashed over and opened the door.

Moose barked, leaping and bounding, overjoyed with a new person to fall in love with, but Van warded him off with her outstretched hands. “Holy Moses! What the hell is that thing? A horse?”

“His name is Moose, and he’s the sweetest puppy ever,” she cooed, unfazed by her friend’s look of horror.

“Puppy? You call that thing a
puppy
? Back off, killer.” Van hid behind Avery, even though she also had a dog, Smidgen the Wonder Yorkie. Of course, he weighed about five pounds and rode everywhere in her purse.

“Go lay down, Moose,” Avery commanded him like Bryce. And he listened. He actually slunk to his massive pillow near the fireplace and curled up in a sulk. “Good boy!” She’d have to slip him one of those oversized doggie bones she’d seen in the cupboard before she left.

“So, is Bryce dressed yet?” Van inquired with a smirk. “In the shower, perhaps?” Her shaped eyebrows dipped together. “Don’t hold out me. I know he’s taken and everything, but I can still peek.”

“He’s not here.” She snatched the bag of clothes from Van’s hand. They didn’t have much time. If she was going to save the Walker Mountain Ranch, she’d have to get dressed and get to work. Pronto.

“I’m sorry, what?” Van looked around like she thought it was a joke. “What do you mean, he’s not here?”

“He left,” she said, ignoring the painful tug of her heart.

“Ouch.” Van tugged her to the couch. They sat down. “What happened?”

Submerging an impatient sigh, she started at the beginning. “Dad called him this morning and told him the bank was taking the ranch to auction.”

Her jaw dropped. “Wow. Talk about bad timing.”

“Yeah. He was pretty pissed off.” Really pissed off. Not that she blamed him. “I’m pretty sure he’ll never talk to me again.”

“That sucks,” Van offered. “Sorry, Avery.”

But there wasn’t time to be sorry. Bryce had said the auction would take place next week. That gave her seven days to pull this thing off. And she’d need all the help she could get. “This isn’t about me. I have to help him, Van. I have to save the ranch.”

“How? I hate to say this, but it’s not like you can outbid your father.”

No.
She couldn’t. But if she rounded up enough people, maybe they all could. Together. “What if we threw a fundraiser? Like a picnic in the park or something?”

“A picnic in the park,” her friend scoffed, shaking her head, bouncing those tight black curls. “Honey, if you want to bring in the big spenders, you’re gonna need more than a picnic in the park.” With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, she practically pushed Avery off the couch. “Go get dressed. We’ve got work to do.”

T
he aftereffects of last night’s snowstorm still lingered in the form of slushy roads and a billowing fog, but that didn’t stop Bryce from gunning the engine and taking the curves too fast all the way down to the highway. Traffic flowed through the roundabout, splattering muddy sludge across his windshield. Messy. Things had gotten so damn messy. He flicked on the wipers, ignoring the way regret nagged him to flip a U-turn and go back to her. To tell her he was sorry.

He hadn’t meant to lose it like that. Not with Avery. Bryce checked the rearview mirror, but there was no way he could turn around. Cars packed him in on both sides; some headed into town, some headed for the hills. Typical fall day in Aspen when the leaves were peaking.

Didn’t matter, anyway. He’d walked out on her twice now. Relationships didn’t usually recover from things like that. She was probably using his computer to purchase a one-way plane ticket to Cali right now, dreaming up a new life with someone who wasn’t such an ass. He knew one thing for sure: she deserved better.

For three years, he’d kept a tight leash on his heart and in less than two weeks, she’d managed to snap it. If he was honest with himself, staying with her, talking things out, would’ve been harder. There was more risk involved. If she’d managed to do this to him in less than two weeks, what would happen if he lost her in five years?

He accelerated as if he could really outrun the mess he’d made, the memory of the way her face had fallen when he’d told her this was her fault. As if she was to blame for all the shit that had happened to bring him to this point.

She wasn’t. He was. Now he only had one option left. Taking the wheel in one hand, he fished out his cell and found Ben’s number.

After a couple of rings, he answered. “What’s up, Walker?”

Too much to go into on the phone. “Can you meet me for a burger?”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.” Ben hesitated. “What time?”

“Now would be good.”

“Wow.” A lengthy pause made him wonder if the call had been dropped. “Everything okay?” Ben finally asked.

“Not sure, yet,” he answered honestly, because he didn’t have time to beat around the bush.

“Where d’you wanna meet?”

Bryce fired off the address to the only place he’d ever eat a burger in Aspen. “See you there.” He clicked off the phone and stuffed it back into his pocket, then zipped through town before cranking the wheel to squeeze the truck into the parking lot of the restaurant Paige’s family owned.

THE HIGH ALTITUDE CAFÉ

WHERE FUN AND MOUNTAINS MEAT.

A few years back,
Aspen Monthly
had crowned Paige’s dad the King of Bad Puns. The name fit the establishment. Cheesy. That was the only way to describe it. Originally the place had been built as a saloon and a brothel, serving the miners who’d settled there in the early 1920s. When the Harper family bought it thirty years ago, it had been condemned. Paige’s dad rebuilt it himself, trying to maintain the original integrity of the structure, if there was such a thing. He’d kept the two-story floor plan and imported bricks that matched the originals. The problem was, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, so the place ended up looking lopsided and crooked, though he swore by the stability. Somehow it’d passed inspection, proving miracles did happen.

Bryce chose a parking spot on the outskirts of the lot and got out of the truck. He passed the constellation of neon signs that buzzed and flickered against the large window.
Budweiser
.
Corona. Blue Moon
. And his personal favorite,
Coors Light
. What could he say? He was a Colorado man through and through. It was cheap and went down easy. A little too easy.

Man, he could use a beer right now. He inhaled until that craving subsided, knowing he couldn’t go back. Not after everything he’d been through to get sober.

Shoving open the wooden door, he ducked inside. The place was a total dive, but that was the best part about it. None of that swanky music. No stuck-up celebrities gliding around in their fur and leather and whatever the hell else they wore. Just the local crowd—the ski bums and board rats who worked hard to be able to stuff as many roommates as possible into two-bedroom condos so they could live in one of the most spectacular places in the world—and serve the celebrities.

The inside of the café was as tacky as the outside. The black-and-white linoleum floor didn’t seem to match the dark wood-paneled walls. The red vinyl booths looked like they’d been ripped off from a highway diner. Not that he cared. Peter Harper had gotten one thing right. He specialized in meat. All kinds of meat. Bison and elk and beef. Despite the shoddy appearance of the restaurant, the High Altitude Café’s burgers had been featured on the Food Network twice.

For a while afterward, there was always a wait, but then the novelty wore off and it usually looked the way it did right now. He glanced around. Not a big crowd. A couple of the regulars. Ted from the dry cleaners. The transient who looked like Santa Claus and lived in a cabin up near Independence Pass…

“Bryce!” Paige rushed out from behind the bar. “Hey.” Her face was red and agitated, just like it always was when she had to be around her family.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, trying to hide a grin. Paige was a vegetarian. She hated working at the restaurant. While the rest of her four siblings made it their livelihood, Paige had done everything she could to get away from it.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Filling in for Penny.”

He always had to think pretty hard to remember which Harper was which. Didn’t help that they all had P names. Peter and Patsy were the parents. Then there was Paul, the oldest. Penny came next; at least he was pretty sure of that. Then Pearl, then Pete Jr. Paige was the youngest by ten years, one of those little surprises that had seemed to throw her parents off. They’d never known what to do with her.

“What about you?” She laid her hands on her hips, giving him a cross-examination. “What’re
you
doing here?”

The door
whoosh
ed open and Ben strode in, always on time.

“I’m meeting a friend,” he said, but Paige didn’t seem to hear. She was too busy watching Ben walk toward them with that look of awe he’d seen on many-a-woman’s face whenever he hung out with Noble. He’d played second fiddle to Ben for years when it came to women. Didn’t look like this time would be any different. Paige seemed to forget he was even standing there.

“Nothing like the smell of beef in the morning.” Ben greeted him with a hearty handshake.

“Wait ’til you taste it,” he said, then nudged Paige. “You remember Ben Noble, right?” They’d met, albeit briefly, when they’d gone Jeeping the other day.

“Uh huh.” She didn’t blink, so he turned to Noble. “Paige’s family owns the restaurant.”

“Really?” He shot her that grin that had been making women swoon since 1985. “What a place,” Ben said. “Can’t wait to try the famous burgers.”

Paige smiled softly and smoothed her hair behind her ear.

Huh
. Bryce had never seen her act like such a girl.

“Get whatever you want,” she said sweetly. “It’s on the house.”

His friend’s eyebrows shot up and he increased his smile by about 500 watts. “What
ever
I want?”

Seriously?
Bryce cleared his throat. Couldn’t let Ben get any ideas about Paige. She was like his little sister. “So…first thing we’ll need is a table.” They did have things to discuss. And he needed Ben to stop eyeballing Paige like she was a juicy cut of meat.

“Oh. Sure. Right. Yes. A table.” Her face turned as red as those vinyl booths. “Right this way.” She grabbed two laminated menus and practically sprinted to a booth in the corner. That suited him just fine. Didn’t need anyone else listening in.

Once they’d sat down, Paige and Ben picked up their heated staring where they’d left off.

“So, I’ll take a Coke,” Bryce interrupted. “What d’you want, Noble?”
Besides
the woman who stood in front of them. Because he couldn’t have her.

“Same,” he answered without taking his eyes off of Paige.

“Two Cokes coming right up,” she squeaked.

Had he ever seen her blush like that?

As soon as she was gone, Ben leaned halfway over the table. “How come I’ve never met Paige before this week?”

“She’s not your type.” Ben tended to gravitate toward women who didn’t expect much of a commitment, and Paige deserved a commitment.

“We’re not in college anymore, Walker,” Ben said in his lazy drawl. “Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe I’m looking for somethin’ different.”

“Yeah, well, you can keep looking. Got that?” He unrolled his silverware and set it out. “Anyway, I didn’t bring you here to hit on my friend, who is also the closest thing I have to a little sister. Understand?”

Ben opened his mouth—probably to argue, knowing him—but Bryce shut him down with a glare. “I got a call this morning. They’re taking the ranch to auction. Next week.”

His friend’s face sobered. “Are you kidding?”

“I wish I were.”

“Here we are,” Paige busted in on the moment, placing their Cokes in front of them. “Are you ready to order?” she asked Ben with a shy smile Bryce had never even seen her use before.

Great.

“We’ll both take the heart attack burger,” Bryce answered for him. “Everything on it.”

“Sounds perfect.” Ben’s smile had lost some momentum, thank god.

“Okay. That’ll be right up.” She backed away, eyes locked on Ben’s. Then she turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

Ben’s jaw was set in the determined look Bryce remembered from their college days. He’d always been as competitive as hell. The guy had never failed at anything, as far as he knew, but there was a first time for everything.

“I’ll try to find the funds. Pull some investments. Light a fire under my buddies. We’ll work it out,” he said like they were talking about hundreds instead of millions.

“Not sure about that.” There probably weren’t enough funds in the world. “Edward King met with the president of my bank.” He told him about the phone call.

When he’d finished, Ben shook his head. “He won’t let it go, then. He’s cutthroat.”

“I’m guessing he’ll drive up the price until no else can afford it.” Not even Benjamin Hunter Noble III and his group of investors.

Ben kneaded the back of his neck like it killed him that he couldn’t help. “If I wasn’t launching the campaign, I might be able to outbid him, but there’s no way it can happen right now,” he said. “Shit, Walker. I’m sorry. I know how much that place means to you.”

It was what he’d expected to hear, but the finality of Ben’s response made him feel like the rug had been pulled out from under his life. Suddenly, everything was up in the air, floating above him, ready to hit the ground around him. And he didn’t know where it’d all land.

He nodded at Ben. “Figured that was the case, but I thought I’d ask.” Then, because there wasn’t much else to say, he looked out the massive square window at the town that’d always been his home. For the first time in his life, he was groundless. Even when fate had taken his wife, he’d always had the ranch to hold onto. The familiarity had kept him sane. It’d given him a place to heal.

Now, he’d have to learn how to survive without it.

Ben & Jerry’s Cheesecake Brownie ice cream…the breakfast of champions.

Avery slopped another bite into her mouth and let the frozen goodness melt into a sweet cream that soothed all the way down her throat. She eyed the other carton, which she’d practically licked clean, the crumpled frozen pizza box, and the empty bottle of wine that had tipped over on the counter. It appeared that event planning stressed her out. Last night, she and Vanessa had split up to make some phone calls. Then Vanessa had a late meeting with her father and the mayor, so she’d been on her own.

And over the last twelve hours, she’d learned that she sucked at event planning. So far she hadn’t even found a venue that was available in three days. She’d failed. Miserably.

But thank god Ben & Jerry didn’t judge. Their intricate work in fusing two of the best desserts on the planet proved that they loved her unconditionally, even if she had let Bryce down.

As she dug in for another bite, her phone buzzed for about the hundredth time in an hour. But where was it? Avery tossed down the spoon and raked through the mountain of papers, notes, and pictures strewn across the counter in her suite.
Come on!
She couldn’t afford to miss a phone call.

The twinkling buzz of a voice mail ridiculed her. What was she thinking? She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t pull off a fund-raiser in three days!

Down the hall, the door busted open. “Avery!”

Vanessa’s cheery voice inspired a shriek. She tore down the hall and hugged her, nearly knocking them both off balance.

“Wow. You’re that desperate, huh?” Van peeled herself away and smoothed out her short, pleated red skirt and sassy, white blouse. Her spiral curls had been pinned to one side, cascading down over her left shoulder. Somehow, the woman always managed to look like she’d just stepped right out of a fashion magazine. Avery looked down at her own attire, which consisted of the hotel’s bathrobe. After event planning 101, maybe Van could give her some pointers on her wardrobe.

“Are things really that bad?” her friend asked. “I’ve only been gone for twelve hours.”

“I can’t even find my phone,” she confessed. “I’m a mess without you.”

For any event King Enterprises had ever put on, Vanessa had been the spine, holding it all together, making sure everything ran the way it was supposed to.

“Okay, girl. Settle down.” Her friend glided through the hallway and into the kitchen, then stopped when she saw the mess. “Whoa. You’ve
got
to be kidding me.”

Avery shot her a sheepish grin. “Um, yeah. I didn’t have file folders or anything. Sorry.”

“Are there at least piles?” She shuffled through the papers and held up a torn piece of a magazine. “What the hell is this?”

“Food ideas?” Avery scooted herself onto a stool. “Like I said, I need you. This is never gonna work.” Bryce would never get his ranch back…