A Little Too Close, page 26
But I never said I was in love with you, did I? Fuck. I was never going to get those words out of my head.
Simon scurried to stand. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”
“Obviously.” I yanked my coat off and hung it on the rack. “How was today’s tour?”
“They were okay. A bunch of suits from Kansas who needed to spend a little more time on the groomed areas of the slope, if you know what I mean.” He rolled his eyes.
“Unfortunately, I know exactly what you mean.” I moved around him and took my seat back, firing up the computer. “How old are you, anyway?”
“Twenty-one,” he replied. “Moved here about three years ago. You’re kind of a legend around here.”
“Thanks, but I think you’re talking about my brother, Crew.” Twenty-one? The kid looked like a baby. Man, I was getting old. I logged in and immediately checked our bookings. We were pretty solid until the third week in May. We’d only take reservations on an if-we’re-still-open basis after that. Typically, we were closed by Memorial Day, but the new area was at a slightly higher elevation, so there was a chance the season would be extended.
“No. He’s pretty awesome. I’ve actually seen him live once. But I was talking about your freeskiing skills. Some of the townies say that you’ve skied every part of these mountains.”
“Just about,” I answered honestly.
The door from the inside of the hangar burst open and Theo spread his arms wide. “The public speaker has returned!”
I scoffed.
“My favorite part was when you tried to draw the analogy to carrying troops into battle with ferrying the spoiled-ass rich people up the mountain to ski.” He grinned, flashing his bright white teeth at me.
“You were watching?” I clicked over to see our financials. Damn, we were solid.
“Online, of course. Like I’d miss it.” He leaned back and kicked his feet up on the desk. “I also enjoyed the part where you almost knocked your entire glass of water over.”
“Public speaking is not my strong suit.” I glared at him.
“Why does he get to put his feet on the desk?” Simon whined.
“Because he’s my business partner and my best friend.”
“We both know you didn’t go there to speak, anyway.” Theo started throwing his tennis ball into the air and catching it. “You were running away.”
“What?” Simon asked.
I bit back a growl at my best friend. “Did the kid hold his own?”
Theo glanced at Simon. “He wasn’t too bad.”
I grunted in approval. “Why don’t you head home, Simon. We’ll call you if we need you. If you’re interested.”
“Absolutely interested!” He took his jacket off the rack, knocking mine to the ground. “Oh, sorry.” He hung it back up. “Thanks for the chance!” He waved on his way out the door.
“You’re telling me that clumsy oaf held his own?” I asked Theo.
“I’d give him a solid eight.” Theo threw the ball up and caught it. “So tell me, how did running away work for you?”
I shot him a look that told him to drop it.
He sat up straight and pinned me with a single stare. “Because I’m thinking it didn’t work out so well.”
“I couldn’t be here.” I rubbed my hands over my face. Shit, I was exhausted. Turned out, I’d forgotten how to sleep through the night without Callie. “Not after I told her to go. One look at her and I’d cave. I’d beg her to stay, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the reason she misses out on her dream.” Not when I knew exactly how it had broken my heart to lose mine.
So, I’d done the only respectable thing and cut the tether between us. God, I hoped she’d chosen to go, otherwise all this pain would be for nothing.
Reed told me the day I’d left for the conference that Callie was set to leave a week later, which meant I only had to avoid her for three days.
“Seriously, West? That’s how you want to leave things with her?” He lifted his brows at me. “With some bullshit where you force her into a choice because you don’t give her all the information she needs to make a real decision?” He shook his head. “You’re better than that.”
“What am I supposed to do, Theo? Ask her not to go?”
He scoffed. “You do what Jeanine has done through every deployment and you tell her you’ll wait. That you’ll be here when she gets back. A year sucks, but it’s nothing in the scheme of things.”
“Even if she wasn’t about to leave—which I hope she is—for this incredible internship, I can’t be what she deserves, man. It’s not that I wouldn’t wait a year for her, because I would. I’d wait for as long as she wanted me to, but I can’t give her what she wants.” The sooner she realized that, the better.
“And what exactly is that?”
“She wants me to love her.” The admission came out gruff.
“And the problem is?”
“You know what happens when you love people? They leave. They die. Losing them makes you fucking miserable, and you never get over it. Who signs up for that?”
He stared at me in pure exasperation.
“What?”
“You’re an idiot.” He snorted.
“I’m sorry?”
“She wants you to love her. Damn, I mean, that’s a pretty heavy demand. Next thing you know, she’ll be asking you to be faithful to her and to come home every night. Then you’ll really have a problem.” He threw the ball and caught it again.
“I’m already faithful and already come home every night.” I grimaced. “At least I did before we ended things.” Before I ended things.
“And you’re already in love with her, so I guess I just don’t see the point you’re trying to make.”
I stared at him.
“Please.” He shook his head. “Like you don’t already know that. Somewhere deep down, you do. I’ve never seen you look at someone the way you watch her. Never seen you smile so much. Never seen you lose your damn mind over a woman either.” He caught the ball and looked me in the eyes. “You don’t have to admit to something for it to be true.”
Fuck.
“I’m going for a drive.” I pushed back from the desk and grabbed my coat on the way out the door.
“Maybe you should drive by your house so you can stop sleeping on my couch,” he called after me. “Even if she’s leaving, she should know how you feel. Evolve, West!”
A growl rumbled in my chest as I climbed into my truck and turned the ignition. I wanted to run, to drive as far and as fast as I could. I wanted to go back to last month or the month before and tell Sutton she couldn’t compete. I wanted to go back to that fight in the kitchen and tell her that I was so wrapped up in her that I couldn’t see a future without her.
Damn it. More than anything, I wanted her to go, to have her chance at living out her dream. But I wasn’t sure I’d survive losing her.
I ended up at the duplex.
I just really wanted to talk it out with Callie.
Guilt gnawed at the edges of my stomach. If I told her how I felt, and she chose to stay, I’d never forgive myself. But the lie didn’t sit right either. Theo was right. Callie deserved all of the information. She deserved to know I’d wait. She deserved to know how badly I wanted her.
She could do whatever she wanted with the information.
Taking the deepest breath possible, I climbed out of the truck and walked up the steps to the little porch. Then I put my key in the lock and opened the door.
There was something off.
The house didn’t smell like oranges, and the art was missing from the walls. My stomach churned, and I ran up Callie’s steps, throwing open her bedroom door. Her furniture was there, but everything else was gone. Her bed was stripped, her windows were bare, and it was…empty.
I yanked out my phone and called the only person I knew who might know what the fuck was going on.
“Hey, Weston,” Ava answered, sadness saturating her voice.
“Where’s Callie?”
“Did you just get back?”
“Yeah, about an hour ago. Where’s Callie?”
She sighed. “So, please don’t hate me, but I made a mistake.”
“About what?”
“I heard Reed tell you that he was glad you’d left the mountain, and I told Callie.”
“Okay? You overheard us talking about the conference. No big deal.” That didn’t explain why Callie’s room was empty.
“Right, so from this end of the conversation, it sounded like you’d left…left. And I was asleep by the time Reed got home so I didn’t get to talk to him until the next morning, and that’s when he told me that you were only gone for a few days and he was glad you were getting the break because of what you and Callie were going through, but by the time I tried to call Callie, her phone was off—”
“Where. Is. Callie?”
“She left for the internship three days ago, Weston. I’m so sorry.”
Whatever was left of my heart shattered.
20
Weston
* * *
Three months later
* * *
Dear Weston,
We’re in Ecuador now. It’s hot, but the flowers are pretty, and I like being so close to the ocean. I get to go to the beach on days Mom isn’t shooting. But she shoots a lot. Yesterday we spent the whole day in one tiny area of the forest while she took pictures of flowers. I think we messed up. She’s not happy. Not like I thought she would be. I know you can’t write back. Mom gets sad when I say your name, but I wanted you to know we made it here, and we’ll be here for a few weeks. I’ll ask Carmen to sneak me out another letter when we get to Panama next month.
Love,
Sutton
* * *
You’re already in love with her. Theo’s words and Sutton’s monthly letters were my only companions in the empty house.
They were gone. The house smelled like…nothing, which was why I couldn’t stand to be there. I loathed every part of my day, from the second I woke up without her beside me, through the mornings I spent flying when she wasn’t strapped in behind me, to the nights when there was no laughter at dinner. No Sutton cracking jokes. No Callie helping her with her homework.
Everything in my life felt…empty, and whatever wasn’t empty was just pain.
You’re already in love with her.
“Are you listening to me?” Reed asked as we walked downtown, dodging early June tourists who darted in and out of the shops that lined the street.
“Expansion, blah blah. Profits, blah blah. Missing an entire demographic, blah blah.” I finished my overpriced coffee and threw the cup into the trash on the corner of Hudson and Main.
“This is your family business, too, you know.” Reed shot me a glare.
“Well aware.” I stared at the light, willing the crosswalk symbol to illuminate. The fact that Dad respected my boundaries, leaving Reed and me to make the decisions about our various responsibilities, was the only reason I was willing to call it a family business.
Reed and my relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than when I’d come home nine months ago.
“You can go, you have to know that,” he said softly.
I turned to face him. “You’ve said that twice in the last three months.”
“Yeah, well, this time I don’t mean for the weekend.” He blew out a breath. “You’re miserable here, Weston. For a while there, I thought you were happy, but…”
I was miserable without Callie. We both knew it. I wasn’t sure how I was still managing to breathe, how I kept forcing air through my lungs.
“I’m just saying that if you need an out, I’m giving you one. I know you came back because I needed you.”
“And you don’t need me anymore?” I looked over his shoulder and saw Mrs. Rupert a block away, fighting with a fallen tree branch. Late spring snows were the worst, and last week’s dumping had been the heavy kind that took down trees and a couple power lines.
“I need you to be happy. I need to not be the cause of your misery.”
You’re already in love with her.
And yet, if this pain had anything to do with that emotion, I couldn’t understand why everyone was so hell-bent on feeling it. Hell, even Callie was sad according to Sutton, and she was out there living her dream.
Damn it, I hated that she was sad. She was supposed to be happy. That was the only saving grace of this whole cursed situation. She was supposed to thrive, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
Except maybe there was.
I’d let her go so she could be happy, but if she wasn’t, then all bets were off.
“You’re not the cause of my misery.” My eyes narrowed on Mrs. Rupert. Shit, she was struggling. I started walking in her direction.
“You could call her. I’m sure she has international service.” He sighed. “Are you seriously walking away right now?”
“Give me a second,” I called back over my shoulder as I walked up the incline toward Vine Street. “Hey, Mrs. Rupert. Need a hand?”
The older woman was currently at war with what looked like an entire trunk of an Aspen tree.
“Every year, Edward Baker just lets his branches tumble into our yard, and every year I have to yank them out.” She grumbled.
“I’ve got you.” I gripped the thick branch with both hands and she let go.
“It’s been a few years since I’ve seen you around, Weston Madigan.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I made quick work of hauling it to the street, where other limbs were gathered for pickup.
“I swear, I’m getting too old for this kind of upkeep. I’ve been asking my husband to downsize for the last year, but he refuses to sell to Airbnb vacation rental people.” She shook her head, her silver curls wobbling.
“But you’d sell to a local?” A knot threatened to form at the base of my throat. What would it mean if Callie wasn’t even here? But she’d be back in nine months…if she chose to return to Madigan.
My chest constricted. I wasn’t going to make it that long without seeing her, without telling her the truth. And if exposing my emotional jugular was what it took to ensure she’d come back here when she was done with her internship…
“Maybe.” She lifted her brows under her lavender hat. “You know anyone who might be interested?”
I nodded.
Five minutes later, I made my way back down to where Reed was waiting.
“How is Mrs. Rupert?” he asked as we started walking, heading across the street.
“She’s good.” My smile stretched from ear to ear.
“It scares me when you smile.”
I laughed.
“That’s fucking terrifying.” He glanced sideways at me.
“I know how we hit that demographic you’re so worried about,” I said, yanking out my phone.
“Okay. I’m all ears.”
I looked over to see if he was being sarcastic, but he wasn’t. He honestly wanted my opinion. “We need a new terrain park with a world-class half-pipe.”
“He isn’t going to come home for that.”
“No, but he’ll know someone who can help design it.” I lifted my brows. “Besides, that’s not the only reason to call him, is it?”
His eyebrows rose. “You’re going to ask?”
“Yep.” I dialed the number and lifted my phone to my ear. “Oh, and I’m going to need some time off,” I said to Reed as the line rang and rang. “Starting tomorrow. We only have scenic tours booked, and Theo can fly, so it’s not like I need a temp or anything.”
“Have somewhere to be?” he asked.
“Actually, yes,” I answered as he finally picked up.
“Are you dying?” Crew sounded winded, and I wondered where he was, who had snow this time of year. Chile? Argentina? I never knew when it came to him.
“Nope.”
“Reed dying?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, now you have my curiosity piqued. What’s up?”
“I need a favor. Well, Reed needs a favor.” I caught Reed’s glare. “Fine, we both need a favor.”
“What is it?”
“What does your schedule look like for coming home?”
“You’re kidding, right?” I could almost see him rolling his eyes from here.
“Nope. Reed is getting married.”
21
Callie
* * *
I bent low and captured the picture of Sutton running through the surf with a couple other kids. The lighting was gorgeous this time in the afternoon.
Then again, everything about Ecuador was gorgeous.
Paraguay, Brazil, and Peru had been the same. Breathtaking views. Rare wildlife. Exquisite florals.
“Do you ever take a break?” Carmen asked, a slight smile on her lips as she watched our kids in the water, her sandals clutched in one hand with a manila folder.
“Did you get where you are by taking breaks?” I asked, clicking another shot.
Carmen was everything I wanted to be. Well, everything eighteen-year-old me had wanted to be. She was a wildly successful photographer on the full-time staff at World Geographic, and in her forty-four years had taken some of the best landscape shots I’d ever seen in my life.
Including the lemur picture I’d had on my wall back in Colorado.
“I didn’t have Milo back then,” she said, waving to her son as he ran beside Sutton.
“I just have to balance both.” I shrugged, crouching in the sand for a better angle and taking another series of pictures. “I never thought I’d have this opportunity, so I have to make the most of it.” This experience had to be worth everything we’d gambled, from my savings account to my job back at Madigan.
And losing Weston.
My chest tightened. If he were here, he’d be out there in the water with Sutton, throwing her into the ocean, playing in the waves while I swallowed my protests that they were out too far.
If Weston were here, Sutton would be grinning, not just smiling. She loved the way he pushed the envelope because, as much as I hated to admit it, she was just like him. Always looking for the zip line, for the harder route to hike, for the biggest waves to bodysurf.
