Mel felt her heart skip several times as another panic attack threatened to consume her.
“I’ll start if you want,” Brent continued as he took another slice of pizza. “My birthday is October eighth. I was born in Seattle. My parents died on my twenty-first birthday in a boating accident in Mexico. Dylan and I were two of the four survivors. After that, I was given custody of Dylan and for the next few years proceeded to do a shit job of raising her. Then I lucked out by winning this place and am hoping that things have finally turned around for me.” He had said all of it in a pleasant tone, but she’d gasped at his story.
“How horrible.” She set down her drink.
“Yeah, I know, being born in Seattle.” He rolled his eyes, and she couldn’t help but smile.
Her smile slipped a little. “How old was Dylan?” she asked, and Brent’s eyes turned sober.
“She’d just turned seventeen.” He looked down into his pizza.
She thought back to what she’d been doing at seventeen. How her parents had been there, at least back then, supporting her, giving her everything she’d wanted. Even now, all it would take was a phone call to have them send her the money for a plane ticket home. Back into the arms of her husband. Ex, she corrected.
Swallowing, she decided she could tell Brent a few details without giving him the entire story.
“I grew up in the city. I graduated high school and business school top of my class.”
“A brainiac,” he interrupted with a smile. “Pegged it.”
She smiled and then took a deep breath.
“I married my college sweetheart within months of graduating and divorced him less than a year later,” she said, avoiding Brent’s eyes.
“How long ago was that?” he asked.
She glanced up at him. “A year ago.”
His eyes narrowed. “Since then?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “I’ve been traveling.”
“Sabbatical?” he asked.
“Of sorts,” she agreed, though it was the farthest thing from the truth. A sabbatical is really a discovering of oneself. She knew who she was. What she wanted.
“I suppose that’s what I’ve spent the last two years doing myself,” he said. “The last time I was in Haven, things weren’t going so well for me.” He leaned back slightly. “I had been with this woman…” He took a deep breath. “She wasn’t… good for me. I was in a bad place and surrounded myself with people as damaged as I was. I believed I couldn’t do any better. That I wasn’t worth anything.” He reached for his drink but, instead of taking a sip, he turned the cup several times while he thought. She could see him trying to decide what to say next and waited patiently. After all, the more he talked about himself, the less he would expect her to open up. She just wasn’t ready for more at this point. “I guess you could say my eyes were opened when I caught Darla poking holes in my condoms.”
“What?” She sat forward. “Seriously?”
He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. I mean, who does that, right?”
“Yeah.” She shook her head in disbelief as she thought of the birth control patches that she’d hidden from Ethan. It wasn’t the same thing. Not really. He’d been pushing her to have kids, and she’d known beyond any doubt that if they had children together, she would never be able to escape him. “Children should be a mutually agreed move in any relationship.”
“Exactly.” He motioned with his drink. “Not that I don’t love kids.” He pulled out his phone and looked at the image of him holding his new niece. “Bella.” He showed her the image. “She’s so small. I like them best when they’re bigger.”
She chuckled. “They don’t stay that small for long.”
“No.” He sighed and looked at the image again. “She has my sister’s hair and eyes.”
“That’s a good thing,” she joked.
“Yeah. Not that the McGowans aren’t a good-looking group. But I’m thankful she looks like Dylan.”
“Babies all look alike to me,” Mel admitted. She had a couple cousins that had kids. Each one of them looked like the other until they grew up and started running around. Then she could easily tell them apart.
He turned his phone towards her again, and she took a closer look at the little bundle he was holding wrapped in pink.
“Look at that hair.” She grabbed his phone and was shocked to see thick black hair on the little girl. “My god, you could almost braid it.”
He chuckled. “Dylan was the same when she was born. My mother claimed she had to give her a haircut the first week after she was born.”
“She is super cute,” Mel admitted. “I doubt I would confuse her with any other baby.”
“No,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Bella is in a league of her own.”
“It is a good thing you made it to the hospital in time,” she said, thankful that the subject had turned away from her life.
“Just barely. Trey opened the truck door and had to practically dive in to catch his daughter.” He smiled. “I had to run the truck through the wash inside and out, twice.”
She could see by the smile on his face that he didn’t really mind.
“Still, it makes for a good story.”
“Yes, it does.” His smile grew. “Best story ever.”
“What now?” she asked.
“Now”—he took another slice of pizza— “the family goes home, celebrates with a cookout this weekend, and gets started on a little brother for Bella.”
She laughed. “No wasted time.”
He shook his head. “Trey was already talking about creating an army of dark-haired kids just like Bella.”
“Cute,” she responded as she thought about her own future. For many years, she’d dreamed of her own family. Kids, house, dogs, a picket fence. Everything. Ethan had taken that away from her.
“Something wrong?” Brent asked her when she stopped talking or responding to him.
“No.” She shook off the mood and reached for another slice of pizza. “Just thinking about the marketing plan. I think we can—”
“Nope, no more shop talk tonight. Today is a national holiday.” He stood up suddenly and walked to the standing fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne. He opened it and poured two glasses. “Celebration.” He held up the glass for her and then tapped it against his own. “To Bella Maria McGowan.”
“To Bella,” she said and took a drink.
Then Brent stood up again and walked over to the freezer. “How do you feel about butter rum?” he asked, his head deep in the freezer.
“Not one of my favorites, but it’ll go with champagne.”
He set a massive container of ice cream in front of her.
“It’s my favorite.” He moved over to get two bowls and spoons.
They sat in the kitchen, eating butter rum ice cream and drinking champagne, and talked about Haven and everyone in it. He filled her in on a few of the locals, the business the McGowans owned, and how a few years ago things had turned a little scary for McGowan Enterprises.
“So, that’s how Trey survived a fire after the explosion.” He finished telling the story of how his brother-in-law escaped the sabotage of one of the oil pumps.
“Wow, for such a small town, you really have a lot of crazy things going on around here. Maybe I should have found another town to have my truck break down in?”
He smiled. “Naw, that was a couple years ago. Things have settled down around here since.”
“Enough that you decided to come back and open up your own business.” She motioned around her. He’d poured her more champagne, her third glass. She didn’t mind, since he was currently on his third glass as well.
Could one get drunk off champagne? She’d never really had much of it. Except for the glass at her wedding. It had been expensive and tasted so bad that she’d only had two sips before setting her glass down and leaving it behind.
“It was time. I wanted to be here when my niece was born.” He smiled and held up his glass again. “Guess I made it just in time.”
She smiled as he scooped up another spoonful of melted ice cream, not seeming to care that it was now runny.
“What about you? If you had to settle down somewhere, would it be back in L.A.?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m done with city life. It’s too easy to get lost in the shuffle.”
“That’s why I like it here in Haven. Not only are the townspeople kind, but they also go out of their way to help one another. You won’t find that in the city. Well, not very often, at any rate.”
“No,” she agreed and set her glass down, done with the drink. “You won’t.”
“It’s obvious you’ve been hurt.” The tone of his voice lowered, and she met his eyes. “It doesn’t take a genius to guess that it was at the hands of your ex.” She turned her eyes away from him again. “I won’t try to guess why you’re on the run, nor will I ask.” He held up his hand. “What I will ask is that, whatever the reason, if at any point you feel unsafe, you let me know before taking off.”
She met his eyes again and nodded. “I can do that.”
“Good.” He smiled. “Now”—he sighed— “I think I’m going to call it a night.” He glanced down at his watch and winced. “Who cares if it’s only ten o’clock. I’ll get used to bar hours soon enough.”
She laughed and helped him clean up the pizza boxes and the ice cream mess. Then she watched as he locked all the doors.
“When do you plan on hiring the kitchen staff?” she asked as they made their way up the stairs. When he gave her a look, she held up her hands. “I know, no shop talk.”
“It’s okay. I was hoping to hire them after the kitchen was finished getting setup,” he answered. “Along with the bar employees and waitstaff.” He stopped at the top of the stairs and unlocked the door that led to the private rooms. “Do you have any experience hiring?”
“Some,” she told him. She’d spent most of her time in the past few years working as a waitress. She figured the experience would help her here.
“Good, maybe you can take on that task.” He turned to her and leaned on his door. “I’ll be honest, I’ve been dreading it.”
“Sure,” she answered. He’d stuck his neck out for her, so she should be willing to do the same. “If you have a list of potential employees…”
“Nope, I figured we’d just put a sign out in the window.” He shrugged.
She held in a chuckle, then realized he was serious. “Oh, right. I’ll… come up with something. Does Haven have a local paper?”
“They might. I don’t know.”
“I guess I’ll need to go into town in the morning,” she said mostly to herself.
“We can go together. Grab some breakfast at the Dancing Moose.”
“The Dancing…” She laughed.
“Moose,” he finished with a smile. “It’s a diner in town.”
She shrugged. “The Dancing Moose it is.”
“Great.” He opened his door but stopped. “I really appreciate you being here.”
“I’m glad everything worked out for Dylan and the baby,” she added.
“Me too.” He disappeared into his room.
She entered her room, but the sugar from the ice cream and champagne running through her kept her pulse kicking, so she decided to use the energy by pushing the coffee table aside and exercising. She changed into her yoga pants and sports bra and started with some warmup moves. The moves came to her without thinking.
She let her body take over while her mind shut down to anything beyond the movements, clearing everything out until all she was focused on was her heartbeat and her breathing. Sweat dripped down between her breasts, her breathing was shallow, and she believed she’d worked all the sugar out of her system by the time she came to rest.
Deciding she wanted a shower, she grabbed her night clothes and set off across the hallway. She hadn’t heard the shower running, but when she stepped in the bathroom, Brent was just getting out of the shower.
“Oh!” She turned around quickly while he wrapped a towel around his hips. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were in here.”
“No, it’s my fault. I guess I got used to not locking the door,” Brent said from behind her. “The bathroom’s all yours,” he said after a moment.
She turned and saw him standing before her with only a white towel resting low on his hips. Damn. She was going to need the cold shower for other reasons now.
Maybe it was the two and a half glasses of champagne, or maybe it was the way he got so excited looking at the picture of his niece. Whatever the reason, it was as if her body had a mind of its own. Suddenly, she moved towards him until her body was pressed up against that wet, hard body of his.
She’d dumped her clothes on the counter and hadn’t even noticed she’d done so until her fingers ran over his wet skin. He held still, as if waiting for her next move. Reaching up on her toes, she brushed her lips against his. If she would have known how potent kissing Brent would be, she would have stayed in her room.