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Authors: Angela Smith

Final Mend (34 page)

BOOK: Final Mend
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Reagan's heels clacked across the wood as she entered the room. The furniture absorbed most of the noise, but the teaks' acoustics lent a sexy sway to the sound.

“Wow. This room looks great.”

Or it could be his soon-to-be sister-in-law who lent the sexy sway.

“Thanks.” He perched his arm on her shoulder and pecked her cheek before they both faced the window.

Burgundy curtains were open to reveal shattered sunlight caught in the limbs of trees. Some rays managed to escape and spotlight the rug under the coffee table.

Six weeks ago this room had been a shell. Two days ago, the last of the necessities had been installed. Yesterday, Chayton helped Garret lug furniture into the room. Today, Chayton had worked relentlessly finishing up while Garret and Reagan tended to other things. He'd wanted to surprise them with his completed work.

“Thank you for everything,” she said.

“You're welcome. I'm quite proud of it.”

“So am I. It looks fantastic.”

“You couldn't have chosen a better location for the living room.” Mountains soared in the background. Pine trees rose from ruts in the ridges and the milieu trailed on and on until it fell again, only to be hoisted upward by another towering crag.

The entire house site was extraordinary, and Chayton was relieved the construction had been completed without a hitch. The day after Garret had proposed to Reagan, they had hunted for a piece of property to build a home and hired enough people to make it happen within five months. Reagan's condo was large enough for them both, but she'd inherited it from her brother, who ended up being a jewel fence, and she didn't want those transgressions to scar her memories. She'd wanted a home of her own.

His faith in humanity had been sorely affected when he found out about his friend, Ray. Chayton still had a hard time getting over the fact that his best friend was a long-time jewel fence.

“Get away from my woman,” Garret boomed as he walked into the room. “Wow.” He stopped to observe Chayton's handiwork and pounded his hand against Chayton's back. “Great job, Chay. I didn't know you had such decorating skills.”

Chayton rolled his shoulders and moved his head to stretch. “Yeah, well, it's not all finished yet.”

“The kitchen is done. We can have our first meal here tonight,” Reagan said. “We'd love for you to join us.”

“I don't know. I need to check on Air Dog.”

“Oh, come on.” Reagan poked out her lower lip in a pout. Her brown eyes gleamed as she gave him her pleading look, as if he could ever say no to that. “You've put so much work into this and we want you to enjoy it with us. You have to share our first meal in our new home. Simone can handle Air Dog fine without you.”

Yeah, he knew that was the truth, but he didn't know if he could handle being away from his bar another night. Things always slowed down this time of year, but he missed it and his patrons when he stayed away too long, and they missed him. He'd taken the last two nights off and couldn't remember a time he'd taken off two nights in a row, much less three.

The phone rang, interrupting the rest of Reagan's tirade, but he had a feeling it'd include “you always work” or something to that effect.

“Our first phone call in our new home!” Reagan skipped to the phone.

Chayton glanced at Garret and smacked him on the back as his brother watched his fiancée's behind.

“We've settled on a date,” Garret said, turning his attention to him.

“Oh yeah? When?”

“October sixteenth. We have the church and the reception hall, but we'd love to host a post-reception party at Air Dog, if you'll agree.”

“Of course I'll agree. But what about space? And time? That's only six weeks away.”

“Don't worry about anything. We're going all-out on the reception, and there's no point in doing anything special to Air Dog. Just keep it open for those who would like to do something after the reception.”

“Of course.”

“Naomi!” Reagan exclaimed on the phone. “So good to hear from you.”

Chayton's heart floundered in his chest at Naomi's name. He rolled his eyes, more at his own reaction than hearing her name and Reagan's glee. Oh yippee, Naomi was calling. To what do we owe this great fortune?

“Is everything alright?” Reagan asked.

Tension braided Chayton's shoulders, already sore from hanging pictures and curtains. His clammy skin felt like he'd been dipped into an active volcano and then into ice water, his blood sizzling. Reagan paused, listening to what Naomi said on the other end. Chayton paused too, straining to hear their conversation.

He imagined it went something like this:
No, no Caleb is doing great. No, he isn't beating me. No, the bruises on my face are from my own clumsiness.

Naomi was anything but clumsy. She could ski faster and work harder than any man he knew, but she stayed with a boyfriend who beat up on her. A hole still knotted Chayton's gut that she'd left in the dead of winter without so much as a goodbye.

Chayton tried to ignore Reagan's conversation, but a smile broadened her face as she performed a little skip jump on her new floor. At times he envied his brother, but then there were times, like now, he wasn't sure he could handle a woman's enthusiasm.

“Are you kidding?” she squealed. “I would love to have you come now. I need help choosing the dress. The tuxes. The flowers. Everything! I'm so glad you decided to come early.”

A strong wave of dread pushed him backward, and he took one step to keep from falling. He clamped down on his teeth, biting back emotions that bordered between anger and … fear. He knew Garret felt his tension. His brother was too damned perceptive. Garret studied him, judging his every action and reaction. Chayton's eyes remained on Reagan, as if her words were more certain when he wasn't only hearing them but seeing her speak them as well.

“We just finished our house and you're welcome here,” Reagan continued, “But we left Ray's condo available for you if you prefer.”

“No,” Chayton said. Reagan didn't hear him, or else ignored him. Chayton groaned, wariness burning a hole in his gut. He turned away from his brother's stare and blinked slowly.

The last thing he wanted, needed, was for Naomi to be living right beside him.

He hadn't seen her in six months. Flowers had burst forth, new growth had erupted on the slopes of Tanyon, Montana. Summer had come upon them, and soon the leaves of autumn would arouse the slopes with fiery hues. Chayton's heart had healed over Naomi's abrupt departure.

He thought they were friends, but a friend wouldn't treat him the way she had. He'd tried to call once, but she hadn't acknowledged his message and he hadn't bothered again.

Reagan hung up the phone and bounced to his side. She clapped her hands once, the sound cracking, if only because he resented her giddiness over the phone call. “Naomi is coming.”

“Good for her,” he intoned as he straightened the newly placed lamp on the sofa table.

He knew he'd have to see Naomi at the wedding but hoped it would only be for a day. He couldn't handle more than that, but God, she was Reagan's cousin. He couldn't likely avoid her. Especially now. Not with the wedding so near. She'd be there, front and center, if she didn't get bored and leave first.

Maybe he could leave, take a much needed vacation.

No, he couldn't do that to his brother. He was the best man. No doubt, Naomi was the maid of honor. He hadn't thought of that, but he'd have to deal.

He'd lost many friends over the past year, but her abrupt departure hurt the worst.

“She's flying in tomorrow and plans on staying until after the wedding,” Reagan stated, as if she knew he considered leaving for a few days. “I told her she could stay in Ray's condo.”

“I heard.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Chayton pivoted and glared at Reagan, who rested her head on Garret's shoulder, Garret's arm wrapped around her. He'd never seen a happier couple, and though he sometimes wished he could find joy that deep, he didn't bank on it happening for him. “Should we throw her a welcome back party, or what? Do you really think she should come back this early before the wedding? She'll get bored and leave just like last time. I hope she doesn't leave you high and dry. I can't be the best man and the maid of honor at the same time.”

Reagan gasped and stepped back, her eyebrows furrowing at his harsh words. He didn't know what it was but every time he heard Naomi's name, his temper flared.

“Well, it's true,” he said, this time a bit softer. “I don't want to see her hurt you.”

“She's not going to hurt me,” Reagan said. “She won't miss my wedding.”

“Yeah? I hope not.” Actually, it wouldn't bother him if she did miss the wedding. It'd mean less time for him to have to deal with her but as it was, he had to deal with her. He'd do his best to avoid her as she had avoided him.

“She left because she had a job.”

“Yeah, well, are you paying her to help you with your wedding? What's going to happen when she gets another job trying to teach someone how to dress?”

“Don't be an ass,” Garret warned.

“Okay, well I'm headed to Air Dog.” Chayton kissed Reagan's cheek and thumped his brother on the back.

“But I thought you were going to eat with us,” Reagan said.

“It's your first dinner in your new home. You both need to enjoy it, just the two of you.” He walked out the door, leaving no room for argument and waving out one last goodbye before the door slammed behind him.

Naomi's name had been mentioned in that room and he couldn't stand to be there until her presence dissolved. And it would eventually. It'd happened with Air Dog and on the ski slopes. Her energy had haunted all his hang-outs after she'd left, but he could finally walk around town and not see her everywhere he looked.

That wouldn't last long. Her return, no matter how brief, would underscore her presence with a permanent marker. He'd see her face everywhere he looked and every one of his friend's faces would stitch a memory of Naomi in his mind. She'd be at the wedding, she'd be dancing on the dance floor, she'd be standing beside him and his friends and in his town and in his Air Dog.

Naomi strived for perfection, and he wanted to tarnish that reality by taking that perfectly coiffed hair and disrupt it, that perfect speech and botch it, that perfect body and show her perfection's deceit. He was drawn to those impeccable beings, probably because Diane's love had been flawless. He couldn't have asked for a better home, but neither did he believe it could ever happen again. Now all he wanted to do was reveal these seemingly perfect women as human, nothing but a pipe dream.

So he'd almost gotten her arrested. Did she not see the horrors of life in Hollywood? Did she envisage life was this great wonderful box of fucking chocolates?

Did she think he was worse than the man who had put that bruise on her face?

Clenching his teeth, he walked out Garret's door and into the cool evening air of his hometown. She'd be here to disrupt it again, but he'd bottle his emotions, even if it did make him seem like an asshole. It didn't take him long to get the hint, and she'd brushed him off one too many times.

If nothing else, they'd been friends before their ordeal. Did she not consider he deserved at least a good-bye? She thought he was a damn bartender. Never mind he owned this frigging bar, the coffee shop down the street, and half the ski shops in this town.

He wasn't good enough for her, so she'd gone back to her Hollywoodites to teach them how to dress. She'd been a nice break from reality at the time.

He was a rugged, outdoor man who owned a bar and liked to jump out of airplanes. She was a classy, sophisticated girl who dressed celebrities for a living and liked to ski down the black slopes of hell just as much as he did.

Maybe that's why he was so attracted to her.

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Burn on the Western Slope

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