Page 11 of The Holiday Heartbreaker

She ushered him off to his room, and then a few minutes later, once he had his pajamas on, she got down on her knees next to the tent bed. “You want a story?”

“No.”

He grabbed a flashlight from inside the tent bed and shone it at the canvas ceiling.

“That’s fine,” she said, trying to be cool.

“Good night,” he said.

“Good night, buddy. I love you.” She stood up slowly and walked to the door, turning the light off and pausing in the doorway for about a minute longer than she needed to. Then she turned and closed the door behind her, looking down the unfamiliar hallway, out into the living room.

And she had a visceral memory of the day she had moved into the apartment in Portland. When she had moved away from the property that she and Carter had called home.

That was her last move. And it hadn’t been her choice. It hadn’t been because she was moving toward something better. It was because what she was leaving behind had crumbled. Had fallen apart beyond repair, and had been left rubble that defied recognition.

She had chosen this place. This ranch. The future.

She just had to be firm and follow what she knew. And what she knew was that Benny might not understand now. But it would be a better life.

She would be happier. She would have more resources. More to give him.

She was exhausted. And she realized she hadn’t gone into her bedroom at all.

With a strange heaviness in her heart, she turned and walked all the way to the end of the hall, pushing open the door and revealing an oasis. The room was white, with a large bed in the center of it. There was a geometric rug on the floor, and potted plants all around. It was simple, but it was beautiful. She opened the door to the bathroom, and her heart lifted. There were more plants, and a large soaking tub. There was a window, right next to the tub, and she paused there for a whole thirty seconds, trying to figure out what the view might be. And for some reason, imagined Brody being in proximity to that view.

Her heart gave a stutter, and she grabbed the edge of one of the white linen curtains and swung it shut. And decided she was going to take a bath. There was also a shower with a glass door in the corner of the bathroom, but she couldn’t remember the last time she had taken a bath. The bathtub in her apartment was so small she had to make that terrible bargain. Boobs or knees under the water? It always ended chilly. But here, she would not have to make that bargain.

It felt like a metaphor. A very strange metaphor, but a metaphor nonetheless.

She started to run the water, and it just wouldn’t warm up. Persistently, she waited. And she waited. And she had been given a phone number to text if there were any issues, but she felt bad, because it was going on eight o’clock, and it was dark and cold outside, but she figured the text could go ignored if it was an issue. Because she wasn’t going to be silent if she needed something. She was trying to start something new. She was trying to do a new thing, be a new thing, and maybe that included saying something if she couldn’t get the hot water to work.

Because she really did at least need a shower.

After the whole of today, she wanted to get refreshed before she got into bed.

She sent off a text, and wasn’t sure who the recipient might be.

Brody.

Stop thinking about Brody.

Maybe it would be Lachlan. Easy Lachlan McCloud, who was just as handsome as his brother, but for some reason, didn’t get under her skin. Lachlan, for her, was more like one of those movie superheroes. Great muscles, beautiful to look at. A little bit thrilling. But not...

Whatever it was Brody was.

Or maybe it would be Gus, who was happily married and totally safe. Hunter, who was the same, or Tag.

But as soon as she heard the swift, hard knock on the door, she knew exactly who it was. Didn’t know how, only knew that her stomach did a strange tightening, shivering sensation. Maybe you’re projecting.

She was not projecting. It was Brody. And she knew it.

She swallowed hard, and then walked to the front door, opening it. And yes. There he was.

“Are you my official contact point?”

His lips curved upward. “Yep.”

He still had that cowboy hat on. Dark whiskers covered his jaw, and those eyes—more gold and green than brown—hit her with the impact of a physical blow. He was so tall. He made her feel petite. Carter was only a couple of inches taller than her, and while he was handsome, he didn’t make her feel...little.

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