Page 8 of It Happened In Paris

She scoffed and squared off with me. “I’m not proud of this, but Iendedup getting back together with Adrien, and then I found out I was pregnant. We married, but I left him within a year and we divorced,” she explained, crossing her arms.

“That asshole? How could you have gone back to him, even after he raised his hand to you?” I muttered, clenching my fists in my pockets as if he were here and I needed to protect her all over again.

“Don’t judge me for how I chose to live my life. You have no right,” she snapped, raising her voice as the elevator doors opened and she stepped inside. I didn’t follow, but I held the doors from closing.

“That was rude of me. I didn’t mean—look, I gather from the call your daughter is sick? I’ll arrange transportation back to Holly Creek as soon as you're ready. If conditions are clear, then the chopper?—”

“You’re hardly in any condition to fly,” she cut in sharply. And she was right—I’d had too much to drink tonight.

“True, but I have a pilot and driver on call. They’ll get you home promptly and safely.” I offered sincerely, feeling compelled to help for reasons I couldn’t quite explain. “Please, let me do this for you—on behalf of the Buchanans for the fantastic cake service tonight. Besides, you’re family now. And fuck, you’re gorgeous—” I trailed off, letting the Macallan talk for me on the last few words.

Her eyes snapped to mine in an intense stare as if she weighed her options, then she nodded. “Fine. But I’ll reimburse you for any expenses.”

I let the door go, lettinghergo, unsure if I’d ever see her again. I stood there and closed my eyes, swaying slightly. With Vivian, I could imagine the possibilities of more, because she could set my world on fire if I let her. But where would that lead? To the altar? To the bank where I’d find she’d taken all my money? Oh, how my ex had turned me so cynical.

4

MEETING PARIS

RICHARD

After Rexand Chelsea’s luxurious wedding and reception in the city, my brother coordinated a major win with a surprise small town wedding and reception for his bride on Christmas night. The crowd buzzed around the Holly Creek Hops Brewery, a craft brew house in Chelsea’s small town.

Closest friends and families gathered, happy to be here for thissecondcelebration of their nuptials—while I couldn’t even pull offonewedding with Janet a few years ago. I snorted. I loved my brother and wished them well, but a part of my ego stung badly from this.

The only relief among the blur of twinkling lights and holiday cheer was Vivian at the center of it all. She worked at a long wooden table, groaning under the weight of cookies, cake, and pies, a hot cocoa bar, and enough Christmas decorations to make a department store blush. With never a faltering smile, she handed out plates of treats to the guests.

Her mouth tantalized me in cherry red with a glossy center on her bottom lip. A tight red sweater dress hugged every curve. Her hair cascaded over one shoulder. As she spoke to each person, her hands moved like she was conducting an orchestra of pastries.

Nothing escaped my notice when it came to her.

Displaced, like a grumbly outsider in a room full of warmth and cheer, I stood in the shadows to one side, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed. Every move she made held me in a trance.

Vivian was the only reason I was here, the pull that kept me from spending the holiday in my usual solitude back in New York City or jumping on my jet bound for a sunny exotic destination somewhere in the southern hemisphere. Anything to avoid Rex’ssecondwedding celebration with Chelsea. But Vivian was also the reason I stood on the periphery, watching instead of joining the celebration.

She had a way of unsettling me, stirring things up that I’d buried. I could not deny how I desired her, and I couldn’t get my mind off of her since the city wedding, but desire was dangerous. It came with risking my heart, and I wasn’t sure I could afford to take chances with that.

“Don’t play with her, Richard. Since single mothers aren’t your thing, then leave her be,” Rex warned, appearing at my side with a stein of a local brew in hand. Dressed in a plaid shirt that made him appear more like a mountain man than a Buchanan, complete with scruff on his face, his expression contained a mix of amusement and seriousness.

I had never told him or Miriam about that fateful trip to Paris. I wouldn’t start now, and shrugged indifference. “I don’t play games, Rex. You know that. I make sure women know where I stand at the start. Nothing serious. Sex only. I’ll steer clear of her. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate her assets from afar, though.”

“Good. She’s not like other women,” he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper as if the walls had ears.

“You got that right.” And that was precisely the problem. She didn’t fawn all over me as a rich eligible bachelor in the city. Shewas independent, strong, and it intrigued me and scared the hell out of me all at once.

“I only mean that if you break her heart, she’s family now. You’ll upset my wife, and then I’d hate to break your nose,” Rex explained.

“Right. I’d like to see you try, asshole,” I grumbled.

He chuckled, then stopped short. “Look out. Miriam alert.” He scuttled away like a coward.

Miriam’s presence loomed before me as graceful and commanding as ever. She wore a mink scarf that probably cost more than most people’s rent for a year, and her smile was the kind that held devious plots. “There you are. I was thinking you’d slipped away.”

“Not yet,” I replied, my voice flat. “But soon. I have a trip booked after the new year to New Zealand.”

“What are you going to do? Roam the globe for the rest of your life?”

“Sure. There are plenty of countries I have yet to see.”

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