No need for a shotgun wedding this time.

They’re still married!

An impromptu trip to Vegas brings Brielle Channing face-to-face with her ex-husband. Except Caleb Gilmore has some news—the handsome cowboy never signed those divorce papers years ago. Still husband and wife, they rekindle their undying spark and receive the ultimate surprise. But is a baby on the way enough to keep them together when their families are wanting to tear them apart once again?

BRENDA HARLEN is a former attorney who once had the privilege of appearing before the Supreme Court of Canada. The practice of law taught her a lot about the world and reinforced her determination to become a writer—because in iction, she could promise a happy ending! Now she is an awardwinning, RITA® Award-nominated national bestselling author of more than thirty titles for Mills & Boon. You can keep up-to-date with Brenda on Facebook and Twitter or through her website, brendaharlen.com

Also by Brenda Harlen

The Sheriff’s Nine-Month SurpriseHer Seven-Day FiancéSix Weeks to Catch a CowboyClaiming the Cowboy’s HeartDouble Duty for the Cowboy

Baby Talk & Wedding BellsThe Last Single Garrett

Bring Me a Maverick for Christmas!

The Maverick’s Midnight Proposal

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

One Night with the Cowboy

Brenda Harlen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09140-4

ONE NIGHT WITH THE COWBOY

© 2019 Brenda Harlen

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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This book is dedicated to my dad.

Daniel Stickles

5 December 1931–25 September 2018

My first hero. Forever in my heart.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Prologue

Brielle Channing slid out of bed in the darkness before dawn, dressing quickly in a plain T-shirt, a pair of well-worn jeans and her favorite cowboy boots. She didn’t need any light to make her way down the stairs, out the back door and toward the stables—she’d traveled the familiar route more times than she could count.

She saddled up Domino, the black gelding with white markings, and tried not to think about the fact that this would be their last ride before Brie piled her bags into the back of her father’s truck and headed to the airport. She would miss her equine companion as much as she’d miss her parents and sister and brothers, but the hardest goodbye would be the one she said this morning, by the stand of ponderosa pines on top of the rocky ridge that formed part of the northern boundary of the Crooked Creek Ranch.

By the time she led Domino out of the barn, the sun had begun to rise, painting streaks of orange, pink and purple across the early morning sky. She lifted herself into the saddle, then let her horse take the lead, bending low over Domino’s back as the gelding galloped across the field, hooves biting chunks out of the tired, dry soil. The wind whipped through Brie’s hair and made her eyes sting, but she kept them open and focused to absorb all the sights and scents and sounds of the world around her—as if to lock them into her memory forever.

The sky was more light than dark now, and she could see the outline of the simple cabin that had been built as a shelter for cowboys caught by unexpected severe weather. The first time she’d given herself to Caleb Gilmore had been in that cabin, and the primitive shelter had become their private refuge from everything that wanted to tear them apart.

She was thinking about Caleb as she dismounted and led Domino to the narrow stream to drink. The boy she’d known for most of her life had always been serious and intense, and when he’d focused that intensity in her direction, she hadn’t stood a chance.

Not that she’d resisted. Not even for a minute. Because she’d loved Caleb Gilmore with every beat of her heart—and loving him had nearly destroyed her family.

The thundering hooves of Indigo, his prized stallion, crashed through her reverie moments before horse and rider came into view. As always, the sight of him made her body quiver and her heart sigh. Though barely twenty, he was already so much more man than boy: over six feet tall with a solid build that attested to years of work on his family’s cattle ranch. He controlled the powerful animal beneath him with a light hand on the reins and subtle signals from the strong thighs that gripped its flank. Indigo pulled up and Caleb slid off the stallion’s back, releasing the reins so the animal could dip its head to drink from the stream beside Domino.

Though Caleb’s face was shaded by the brim of his hat, Brie felt the intensity of his gaze on her. After a long minute, he finally said, “I hear you’ve decided on Columbia.”

She nodded. “It’s a really good school,” she said, because it was true, though not even a fraction of the whole truth.

“So’s UC Berkeley,” he pointed out, naming the college she’d originally planned to attend.

She nodded again.

“But California wasn’t far enough from Haven,” he guessed.

“I just think it’s best, for everyone, if we put some distance between us,” she said.

He shook his head. “Do you really believe that?” he challenged. “Because I can guarantee it’s not best for me, and I don’t think it’s what you want, either.”

She’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but she hadn’t imagined it could be this hard. After everything they’d been through over the past few weeks, her heart should be numb. But it wasn’t—it was torn open and bleeding, and she knew that going away from here, away from Caleb, was the only way to make the hurting stop.

She had to swallow before she could speak. “I’ve always wanted to get out of this town,” she told him, her voice breaking just a little. “And you’ve never wanted to be anywhere else.”

“You didn’t always want to get out of this town,” he contradicted. “There was a time when you wanted to be my wife and help me build our home on the Circle G.”

“That was before I knew that the idea of a Blake married to a Gilmore would give my grandfather a heart attack.”

“Your grandfather is a grumpy old man whose heart is kicking along just fine with his new pacemaker. And you’re a Channing, not a Blake.”

“My mother was a Blake,” she reminded him, as she retrieved a manila envelope from her saddlebag. “And her blood runs through my veins.”

He had no choice but to take the envelope she thrust into his hands. “There’s nothing I can say that will change your mind, is there?”

She shook her head. “This is a great opportunity for me.”

“And when you’re finished with school—what will you do then?” he asked. “Will you come home?”

She looked away. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you do,” he said, his tone resigned as he hoisted himself into the saddle again. “Good luck in New York, Brie.”

Then he rode away, Indigo’s hooves trampling the already broken pieces of her heart.

Chapter One

Seven years later

“We’re going to Las Vegas!”

The words stole the air from Brie’s lungs, like the first big drop of the Cyclone at Coney Island. But unlike the thrill of plunging eighty-five feet at sixty miles an hour, there was no exhilarating rise that followed—only an uncomfortable queasy feeling.

Judging by Lily’s excited squeals, she had an altogether different reaction to the announcement.

“Okay.” Grace clapped her hands together and grinned. “Stop squealing and start packing—we fly out at eight forty-five tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” Brie echoed, when she’d managed to find her voice. “But—”

“Don’t you dare say you can’t go,” Grace interjected. “We talked about this months ago, and we all agreed that we would take a long weekend to celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday.”

“Of course I’m going to celebrate with you,” she assured her friend. “I just thought you’d want something a little more...or maybe a little less. And Vegas in August is going to be sticky and gross.”

“Worse than New York?” Lily asked dubiously.

“Trust me,” Brie said.

“I realize you’ve probably been there a thousand times,” Grace said. “But I never have and that’s where I want to go. Plus, the plane tickets and hotel are already paid for by my parents as their birthday present to me.”

Although Brie had grown up less than 450 miles from Las Vegas, she’d only ever made one trip to Sin City. One unforgettable trip more than seven years earlier, and though the heartache had begun to fade, she knew she could never forget the man—or their reasons for making that trip.

“Now I’m off to the obligatory birthday dinner with the family at Per Se,” Grace continued, already heading toward the stairs. “Make sure you pack your party clothes—I want to celebrate my quarter-century milestone in a big way.”

Lily pushed off the sofa. “I knew there was a reason I bought that sexy red dress at Bergdorf’s last weekend.”

“I thought you bought it because you couldn’t resist a sale,” Brie noted dryly.

Her friend grinned. “That, too.”

Lily disappeared into her bedroom to begin packing, and Brie decided to do the same, albeit with less enthusiasm. Because going to Nevada naturally made her think about Haven, where she’d grown up and where most of her family still lived, and thinking about Haven brought back memories of Caleb, the first—and only—boy she’d ever loved. And even after seven years, those memories made her heart yearn.

When she left Haven, she didn’t think she’d ever go back. And for the first four years, she hadn’t. Then her grandmother died, and she’d needed to grieve with her family. Two years after that, she’d returned for a much happier occasion: the wedding of her brother Spencer to Kenzie Atkins, Brie’s best friend throughout high school. The next spring, she’d gone back for the birth of her sister Regan’s twin baby girls—and again for Piper and Poppy’s baptism.

Each successive trip had been a little easier than the one before. Of course it helped that she didn’t need to worry about running into Caleb, because her parents had built a big house closer to town a few years earlier and he rarely ventured far from the Circle G.

She pulled her suitcase out from under her bed now and set it on top of the mattress—and vaguely wondered if she could fake being sick to avoid the trip. She immediately felt guilty for even contemplating such a ruse, but the way her stomach tied itself into knots at the prospect of returning to Las Vegas, she might not have to fake anything.

But she would do this for Grace. She would do anything for either of the two women who’d been her best friends since her first week in New York, when they’d met as freshmen residents of Hartley Hall.

There was a light tap on the partially open door, then Lily poked her head into her room. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Brie invited.

Her friend looked at the still empty suitcase, then at her. “You absolutely hate the idea of going to Las Vegas, don’t you?”

Brie opened a drawer and began rifling through the contents. “There are a lot of other places I would have preferred to visit, but I can understand why Grace wants to go. Everyone should experience Sin City at least once.”

“I’m not particularly close to my family—as you know,” Lily admitted. “But even I go home at least three times a year.”

“My parents come to New York periodically.”

“They come here,” her friend agreed. “How often do you go there?”

In the past year, more than she’d wanted to, but Brie knew that response would only raise more questions. “I don’t enjoy traveling as much as they do,” she suggested as an explanation instead.

“Says the woman who visited ten countries in Europe on her summer vacation last year,” Lily noted.

“That was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Her friend lowered herself onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard with one leg tucked up beneath the other. “Las Vegas is 432 miles from Haven,” she pointed out.

A detail of which Brie was well aware, but not one that she’d expect an East Coast native to know.

Her surprise must have shown on her face, because Lily shrugged and explained, “I looked it up.”

Brie continued packing.

“Are you ever going to tell us what happened to make you leave Nevada and never want to return?” her friend asked gently.

“What can I say? I love New York.”

“I know that’s true, but I also know it’s not the whole truth.”

Brie sighed. “Maybe I should have told you—and Grace—a long time ago, but I was feeling too raw and vulnerable at first. And then, as time passed, I realized that my heartbreak wasn’t nearly as big a deal as it seemed.”

“It must have been a bigger deal than you’re pretending now,” Lily said. “Or the thought of going to Nevada wouldn’t have you strangling that dress the way you are.”

She immediately unclenched her hands and shook out the garment, then folded it neatly into her suitcase. “It wasn’t a big deal,” she insisted. “I simply fell in love with the wrong guy.”

“Why was he wrong?” her friend wondered.

“Our families were the Montagues and Capulets of Haven,” she explained. “And while the whole star-crossed lovers thing seemed incredibly romantic at the time, it didn’t end well.

“No big surprise there, of course, but I chose to walk away with a broken heart rather than put a dagger through it.”

“Are you still in love with him?”

“It was seven years ago,” she reminded Lily.

“Which doesn’t actually answer the question,” her friend noted.

“I’m not still in love with him,” she said, because she needed to believe it was true.

After more than seven years, she didn’t want to admit—even to herself—that Caleb Gilmore still owned the biggest piece of her heart.

* * *

Caleb Gilmore had been back to Las Vegas a handful of times since his impulsive trip with Brielle Channing seven years earlier. But each subsequent journey inevitably brought back memories of the first time.

And of Brie.

Of course, it was rare for a single day to pass without him thinking about her, because in Haven, there were reminders every way he turned. Driving past the high school, he couldn’t help but think about the first time they’d danced together. Riding up to Eagle Rock to herd a lost calf, he was reminded of their first kiss. And returning to Las Vegas brought back memories of the promises they’d made to each other so long ago. Promises that had obviously meant more to him than to her, since she’d broken every one of them within a few weeks of their return to Haven.

This time, he’d made the trip at the request of his childhood friend Joe Bishop, to serve as best man at Joe’s wedding. They’d arrived late the night before and checked into The Destiny—a newer luxury hotel on the strip that Joe had chosen because he was certain he was about to meet his destiny.

“Do you have the ring?” the groom-to-be asked, for the tenth time in as many minutes.

Caleb nodded. “I’ve got it,” he confirmed, as he’d done each time before.

“It was my grandmother’s,” his friend said. “She wore it every day for almost sixty years.”

And now he was ready to put that ring on the finger of a woman he’d known for less than six hours.

“You know this is crazy, right?” Caleb felt compelled to ask his friend.

“I know you think so,” Joe acknowledged. “But me and Delia have been chatting and gaming online for almost seven months, and I knew I loved her even before I saw her. Now that we’ve finally met, I have no doubt that she’s the woman I’m destined to be with for the rest of my life.”

“The rest of your life is a long time,” he warned.

“I hope so,” his friend said sincerely. “But if you’re not comfortable standing up for me, I can—”

“No,” Caleb interjected. “I want to do this. Because even if I do think this is more than a little impulsive, it’s obvious that Delia is just as smitten with you as you are with her.”

“Then why are you scowling?” Joe asked him.

He shook his head. “If I tell you, you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Tell me anyway,” his friend said.

Caleb slipped his arms into his jacket, then buttoned the front, tugged on the cuffs. “I caught a glimpse of a woman in the hotel lobby downstairs,” he finally admitted. “And I thought—for a minute—that it was Brie.”

“Brielle Channing?”

He nodded.

Joe considered the admission for a moment before responding. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. I’m crazy for falling in love with a woman I met online seven months ago, but it’s okay that you’re still in love with the woman who walked away from you more than seven years ago?”

“I’m not still in love with her,” Caleb denied.

“Then forget about her,” Joe advised. “Because what happens in Vegas—”

“Stays in Vegas,” he finished, the marketing slogan being truer than even his buddy realized.

The groom-to-be grinned. “That’s right, my friend. And after the ceremony, I will be escorting my bride to the honeymoon suite, which means that this room is all yours.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Caleb said. Although the idea of spending the night with a random stranger held absolutely no appeal, admitting as much to his friend would only result in more questions about Brie—and he definitely didn’t want to go there.

“Good.” Joe adjusted his tie in the mirror. “Do you have—”

“Yes,” he interrupted. “I have the ring.”

“Okay.”

Caleb glanced at his watch and decided they had some time before they needed to head down to the chapel. The thick carpet of the luxury room muffled his footsteps as he crossed to the bar to retrieve two bottles of beer from the fridge.

“Do you have any idea what they charge for those?” the anxious groom asked, his preoccupation with his grandmother’s ring momentarily forgotten.

“No,” he admitted, as he uncapped both bottles and handed one to Joe. “But undoubtedly less than the champagne, and I thought you’d prefer to toast your marriage this way.”

“Can’t argue with that,” his buddy decided.

“To you and Delia,” Caleb said, lifting his bottle in the air. “May you have a long and happy life together.”

“And to my best friend,” Joe said, raising his drink. “I hope that someday you find your perfect match and feel as lucky as I do right now. In the meantime—” he grinned again “—I hope you at least get lucky.”

They tapped their bottles together and drank, then Joe went to escort his bride while Caleb headed to the chapel.

On his way, he passed one of the hotel’s three pools and lingered for a minute to admire the crystal clear water sparkling in the afternoon sun—and the numerous shapely female bodies in and around it.

He felt an unwelcome tug in the vicinity of his chest when he saw her there: the same woman he’d caught a glimpse of earlier. The woman he’d believed—for the space of one endless, aching heartbeat—was Brielle.

Of course, it wasn’t her. There were more than fifty hotels on the strip, and the odds that she might be vacationing in Las Vegas and staying at this particular hotel on the same weekend that he was here were...incalculable.

Whoever the woman was, she wasn’t Brie, and he had to stop imagining otherwise.

* * *

Brie stepped out of the water and reached for one of the thick, fluffy towels provided by the hotel.

Then her gaze lifted to his face, noted the light brown hair that showed hints of gold in the sun, the tanned skin and square jaw, the hazel eyes framed by thick lashes—eyes that seemed to be staring right into hers even through the dark lenses of the sunglasses perched on her nose.

Her breath caught in her throat and her heart actually skipped a beat before it resumed its rhythm, albeit a little harder and faster than before.

“It is you,” he said, in a low voice that was achingly familiar.

She ignored the racing of her heart and reminded herself that she wasn’t a teenager anymore. She was a twenty-five-year-old woman who could handle an unexpected encounter with a former lover without falling to pieces.

Buoyed by this quick internal pep talk, she managed to respond casually, easily. “Hello, Caleb.”

Though she couldn’t take her eyes off him, she was aware that both of her friends were avidly watching the interaction. She felt the weight of their stares—and their unspoken questions.

“I wasn’t sure it was really you at first.” He settled on the edge of her lounger, so that he could look her in the eye—despite the fact that hers were still shaded.

She was grateful for the protection, because Caleb had always been able to see too much of what she was feeling. And his sudden and unexpected appearance here had brought to the surface too many feelings that she’d thought were long forgotten—or at least deeply buried.

“I saw you waiting for the elevator earlier,” he continued, “but by the time I crossed the lobby, the doors had closed, and I decided that it couldn’t have been you, anyway.”

She didn’t know what to say to that—or if she was even capable of forming a coherent sentence. So many thoughts and questions were swirling through her mind, so many emotions battling for dominance inside her heart.

Her friends came to her rescue now, with Lily shoving her hand toward him. “I’m Lily—one of Brielle’s roommates in New York.”

Deeply ingrained manners forced him to shift his attention and accept the proffered hand. And Grace’s, too, when she followed the initial introduction with her own.

By then, Brie had recovered sufficiently from the shock of the unexpected encounter that she was able to string enough words together to say, “Caleb and I grew up together in Haven.”

“So the two of you are...old friends?” Grace guessed.

Caleb looked at Brie again, waiting for her to answer.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Old friends.”

He gave the slightest shake of his head then, as if he was disappointed by her response.

“We’re a little more than that,” he said, and though he was answering Grace’s question, his eyes never left Brie’s face.

“How much more?” Lily asked curiously.

He settled a hand on Brie’s knee, the casual gesture of a man accustomed to touching a woman.

Her breath caught in her throat as the contact caused her blood to heat and race through her veins, the effect of his touch exactly the same as it had been so many years before.

The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he registered her body’s instinctive response to the contact before she drew her leg away. Then he shifted his attention to her friends and finally responded to Lily’s question.

“Actually, Brielle is my wife.”

Chapter Two

“Ex-wife,” Brielle said through gritted teeth.

But her short-lived marriage was a detail she’d never shared with anyone outside of her immediate family, so it was no wonder her friends were looking at her with nearly identical expressions of shock and disbelief right now.

However, it was Caleb’s focused gaze that unnerved her. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he said.

“So do we, apparently,” Grace murmured.

“I can’t believe you never told us you were married.” Lily sounded not just stunned but hurt.

And justifiably so, Brie acknowledged, as the two women had been not only her best friends but her surrogate family for the past seven years.

“It was a long time ago,” Brie told them. “And over almost before it began.”

“It was a long time ago,” Caleb agreed. “But over...well, I’d have to disagree with you on that, darlin’.”

“I’m not your darlin’,” she protested.

“Well, this might finally explain why she hardly ever goes out,” Lily remarked to Grace.

“And why she rarely goes out with the same guy more than once,” Grace added.

“That’s not true,” Brie said to her friends. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t analyze the intimate details of my love life in front of a stranger.”

“Our point is that there are no intimate details,” Grace said.

“And how can you refer to your husband as a stranger?” Lily chided.

“Ex-husband,” she said again. “And he’s a stranger to both of you.”

“Any friend of yours is a friend of ours,” Grace said, and turned to smile at Caleb. “So how far back do you and Brie go?”

“We went to school together, though I was a couple years ahead.”

“You were high school sweethearts?” Lily guessed.

“Secret high school sweethearts,” he clarified.

One of Grace’s perfectly arched brows lifted. “Why the secrecy?”

“There’s some...history between our families,” he explained. “And we knew they wouldn’t approve of our friendship—or our dating.”

“The Montagues and the Capulets,” Lily murmured, obviously recalling what Brie had told her when they were packing for this trip.

“Or the Hatfields and the McCoys,” he suggested.

“Tell us more,” Grace urged.

“I wish I could,” Caleb said, rising to his feet again. “But Brie will have to fill in the rest of the details, because I’ve got a wedding to get to.”

She’d thought nothing could surprise her as much as seeing him standing in front of her, but the way Brie’s stomach dropped in response to his words proved otherwise. “You...you’re...getting married?”

He sent her a look that she couldn’t begin to decipher. “I’m not the groom. I’m the best man.”

“Oh,” she said, and exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“We’re definitely going to find out from Brie if that’s true,” Grace teased.

Caleb grinned, appreciating her friend’s flirtatious humor.

It was the same familiar cocky grin that had always made Brielle’s heart pound and her knees weak. And it was frustrating to discover that, seven years later, its effect on her was undiminished.

“Joe Bishop’s getting married,” he said to her now.

She knew Joe, because he’d been friends with Caleb for as long as she’d known him, prompting her to ask, “Is the bride anyone I know?”

“The bride isn’t anyone he knows,” Caleb remarked dryly. “They met online seven months ago and in-person—” he glanced at the watch on his wrist “—about nine hours ago.”

“I never thought Joe was the impulsive type.”

“A lot of things can change in seven years,” he said, holding her gaze. “Then again, some things never do.”

“I’m so glad you wanted to come to Vegas.” Lily’s comment to Grace cut through the heavy silence.

“I just wanted to get drunk and lose some money at the tables,” Grace replied. “This live show is so much better than anything I could have anticipated.”

“Show’s over, ladies,” Caleb said apologetically. “I’ve got Joe’s grandmother’s ring, so I can’t be late.”

“Maybe we could just consider this an intermission?” Lily said hopefully.

He chuckled at that, but his expression grew serious when he turned to Brie again. “Will you meet me for a drink later?”

She shook her head. “I can’t. We’re here to celebrate Grace’s birthday and—”

“Just one drink. Six o’clock?” He glanced at her friends, as if to enlist their cooperation. “I’m sure Grace and Lily can manage to occupy themselves for an hour or so.”

“It doesn’t matter whether they can or can’t,” Brie said. “I’m here with my friends and we’ve got plans for dinner.”

“Plans but no reservations,” Grace piped up helpfully. “So we’re not on any particular schedule. And if we’re not still here after the happy couple say their ‘I do’s,’ we’ll be in room 1268.”

He nodded to Brie. “I’ll find you there later, then.”

Of course, she watched him walk away. She couldn’t help herself. And she couldn’t deny that he looked as good now as he’d looked the last time she saw him, seven years earlier. Maybe even better.

She suspected that her friends were watching him walk away, too, because it was only when he’d disappeared through the doors and back into the hotel that they turned to her.

“Oh. My. God.” It was Lily who spoke first. “I can’t believe you were married.”

“And didn’t tell us,” Grace added.

“Because it was for a very short while a very long time ago,” she said again.

“I don’t care how short it was or how long ago,” Grace said. “That’s not the kind of secret you keep from your best friends.”

“So maybe we’re not her best friends,” Lily suggested, sounding hurt.

“You know you are,” Brie assured them sincerely.

“And yet, you didn’t tell us about your hunky husband,” Grace remarked. “Not a single word.”

“Actually, she said a few words,” Lily noted. “But only after you told us about this trip. And there was definitely no mention of a wedding or a husband.”

Brie sighed, resigned to the imminent interrogation—and maybe a little relieved that she’d finally have the opportunity to unburden herself of the secrets she’d held on to for so long. But aware that her emotions were already running high, she’d prefer not to do so in public. “Can we continue this conversation upstairs?”

“Stalling for seven years wasn’t long enough?” Lily challenged.

“I’m not trying to stall,” Brie denied.

But she wouldn’t have minded a few minutes under the spray of the shower to clear her head and organize her thoughts. Except that after unlocking the door to their suite, Grace pointed to a chair, a wordless command to her to sit.

Her dark-haired, dark-eyed friend with the take-charge personality had always been the unspoken leader of their little group. The other two women sometimes teased her for being bossy, but they were mostly content to follow her lead.

And because Brie accepted that she owed her friends an explanation, she sat. Lily and Grace settled side by side on the sofa, facing her.

“So...you were married,” Grace prompted, when Brie remained silent.

“I was married,” she confirmed.

“Before you moved to New York?” Lily asked, seeking clarification.

She answered with a slow nod.

“Which means you were barely eighteen.”

Brie nodded again. “I was eighteen and—” her voice wavered and her eyes filled with tears “—pregnant.”

* * *

The silence that followed her announcement was so complete, she could almost hear her friends’ jaws drop.

Grace recovered first and asked, “You had a baby?”

Now Brie shook her head and pressed a hand to her chest, as if to assuage the ache that had never quite gone away. “No, I... I lost the baby.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Grace breached the distance to embrace her.

If anyone had asked, Brie would have said that she’d finished crying for her unborn baby years earlier—but the tears that spilled onto her cheeks now proved otherwise.

“Oh, crap.” That remark came from Lily, because any outpouring of emotion inevitably brought on her own tears of empathy. “We didn’t know...we didn’t mean... Oh, Brie, we’re so sorry. Oh, please don’t cry.” She shoved a box of tissues into Brie’s lap, after plucking a couple out for her own use.

She managed a watery smile. “You did so mean to push and pry—it’s what you do.”

“Well, okay,” Lily conceded. “But we didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Although tears can be therapeutic,” Grace said soothingly. “So you shouldn’t be afraid to let them out.”

“I don’t think I can stop them now,” Brie admitted. It was as if she’d built a dam around her emotions and that dam had suddenly given way, allowing seven years of repressed feelings and grief to flood over her.

She told her friends everything: from the first terrifying suspicion that she was pregnant, to Caleb holding her hands while they waited for the result of the home pregnancy test, followed by his impulsive proposal and their impromptu trip to Vegas, all without telling anyone in either of their families about their plans. And then the fallout, when they finally got back to Haven and shared the news about their wedding and the baby with their parents and grandparents.

“Your grandfather actually had a heart attack when he found out you’d married a Gilmore?” Lily asked.

“I don’t know if the announcement of our wedding directly caused the cardiac arrest, but yes, he had surgery the next day.” She plucked another tissue from the box as her eyes overflowed again. “Four days after that, I had a miscarriage. And since the baby was why we got married, losing the baby meant there was no reason for us to stay married, so I went to see a lawyer and had divorce papers drawn up.”

“I’m sorry,” Grace said again, clearly at a bit of a loss for words.

“You don’t have to apologize. I should have told you both everything a long time ago.”

“We would have been there for you, if we’d known,” Lily said gently.

“Even without knowing, you were there for me,” Brie assured her friends. “When I first went to New York, I didn’t want to talk about it. I couldn’t. The hurt was too raw. Not even Regan or Kenzie knew all the details of what happened. And then...well, the more time that went by, the more I didn’t want to remember everything that happened.”

“Is this really the first time you’ve seen Caleb since you moved away?” Grace asked.

“It is,” she confirmed.

“That’s why you always avoided going home,” Lily realized.

“And why you weren’t thrilled about coming to Vegas,” Grace guessed.

“Well, I never actually believed I’d run into him here,” Brie said.

“And I never would have suggested coming here if I’d known,” Grace said, almost apologetically.

“It’s fine,” Brie said, wishing it was so. “And it was inevitable that our paths would cross sooner or later. Now at least that first awkward meeting is done—and it wasn’t even all that awkward.”

Her friends exchanged a glance.

Brie frowned. “Or was it more awkward than I realized?”

Lily gave a slow shake of her head. “No. At least, awkward isn’t the word I would have used to describe it.”

“I’d suggest sizzling as a more appropriate descriptor,” Grace added.

“Well, it is one hundred and six degrees outside,” Brie remarked.

“And about a thousand degrees hotter between you and your sexy ex,” Lily noted.

She couldn’t dispute the accuracy of her friend’s description. Because even though almost half of the more than eight million people who lived in New York City were male, she’d never met a man who turned her on as much as Caleb Gilmore. “He did look good, didn’t he?”

“I never understood the cowboy mystique,” Grace confided. “Now I do.”

“Of course, it doesn’t matter how ruggedly handsome he is,” Lily hastened to add. “We hate him for breaking your heart.”

Brie managed a smile, touched by the unswerving loyalty of her friends. “When I left Haven, I broke his, too,” she admitted.

“He shouldn’t have let you go,” Lily said.

But Grace shook her head. “He had to let her go.”

“Why?” Lily demanded.

“Because he loved her,” Grace said simply. “And he knew that she didn’t want to stay.”

“I couldn’t stay,” Brie told them. “There were too many memories—and too much heartache—in Haven.”

“But you loved him, too,” Grace noted.

“When I was a teenager,” she agreed. “And maybe for a long time after.”

“And maybe still,” Lily said, obviously choosing not to believe her friend’s previous denials.

“I’m not still in love with him,” she said again.

“Are you sure?” Lily pressed. “Because all the evidence suggests that you still have some pretty deep feelings for your cowboy.”

“What evidence?” she challenged.

“The fact that you didn’t mention his name to either of us—even once—in the seven years that we’ve known you.”

“That’s somehow proof that I’m still hung up on him?” Brie challenged skeptically.

“Actually, I think I agree with Lily on this one,” Grace said. “If Caleb didn’t matter to you, you wouldn’t have been so careful to avoid talking about him.”

“Or maybe I just didn’t want to talk about him,” she suggested as an alternative. “Maybe I didn’t want to think about the fact that I’d been in love and had my heart broken.”

“We’ve all had our hearts broken,” Grace pointed out.

“Yours probably more than most,” Lily interjected.

Grace shrugged, because it was true. “I do seem to fall in and out of love frequently and easily. But sharing the joys and heartaches with friends is part of the journey—and the healing process.”

“You’re right,” Brie said. “And I do feel better now that I’ve told you about my ill-fated marriage, but I don’t want to talk about Caleb anymore.”

“We’ll table the discussion for later,” Lily agreed. “Because you don’t have a lot of time left to get ready before he’s going to be knocking on the door.”

“I wouldn’t have to worry about that if someone hadn’t given him our room number,” Brie remarked, with a pointed look at Grace.

Her friend shrugged. “What can I say? Apparently I’ve got a weak spot for handsome cowboys.”

“So maybe you should go for a drink with my ex-husband,” Brie suggested.

“I wasn’t invited,” Grace pointed out.

“I’m still not sure why I was,” she admitted.

“Don’t worry about his reasons,” Lily suggested. “This is your opportunity to prove to your ex—and to yourself—that you’re one hundred percent totally and completely over him.”

“If you’re sure that you are,” Grace said.

“I am,” she insisted.

But as she stood under the spray of the shower and thought about the evening ahead, Brie couldn’t deny that seeing him again made her suspect she wasn’t as totally and completely over Caleb Gilmore as she wanted to believe.

* * *

Seven years after she’d walked out of his life, Brielle Channing still had the power to take his breath away—a fact that was proved to Caleb when he spotted her by the pool earlier that afternoon.

He’d given himself a minute to draw air back into his lungs and think about what he was going to say so that he didn’t stutter and stumble over his words, and he’d thought that first meeting had gone rather well. But seeing her had sent his whole world into a tailspin.

Although he’d made it to the chapel to witness the exchange of wedding vows, Joe had to elbow him in the ribs—twice—to prompt him to hand over the ring when requested by the officiant. Because the whole time he was standing beside his friend, he was thinking about Brie.

His first love. His wife. The woman he’d always believed would be the mother of his children.

The only woman he’d ever loved.

Yeah, he knew it was pathetic. And no way in hell would he ever admit it aloud to anyone else, but it was a truth he couldn’t deny to himself. For Caleb, it had always been Brie. She wasn’t just “the one”—she was his everything.

But she’d walked away from him, forcing him to acknowledge that she didn’t feel the same way. To accept that the love they’d shared was gone, the vows they’d exchanged were broken, the lives once joined together were now torn apart.

And he’d moved on. Or at least continued to live his life, working beside his father and brother, grandfather, uncle and cousins at the Circle G. He’d even built the house that he’d once imagined he would share with Brie, but he lived in it alone, and the three extra bedrooms planned for their children remained empty and silent.

Not forever, of course. Just because he’d lost Brie didn’t mean he’d given up hope on finding another woman to fill his heart and share his home. The only problem was, every other woman he met wasn’t quite right—because no other woman was Brie.

His brother believed that Caleb loved the memory of Brielle more than he’d ever loved her. Liam had encouraged him to see her again, insisting that he wouldn’t be able to move on with his life until he’d put his past with Brie behind him. Caleb didn’t think his brother was any kind of an expert, but since Liam had recently gotten engaged to Macy Clayton—a single mother of year-old triplets—Caleb was forced to acknowledge that his brother might know a little bit more about relationships than he did.

So tonight, he was going to have a drink with Brie—and finally confess the secret he’d held close to his chest for seven years.

Chapter Three

Caleb knocked on the door numbered 1268 and mentally braced himself to see her again. This time, it wouldn’t be a surprise. This time, he would be prepared.

Except that nothing could have prepared him for the stunningly sexy woman in the little black dress and skyscraper heels who suddenly appeared before him.

He felt breathless and a little dizzy, as if he’d been sucker punched. Then she smiled, a follow-up jab that nearly brought him to his knees.

“You’re punctual,” she noted.

“And you’re—” his gaze skimmed over her, from the sleek fall of pale blond hair that fell past her shoulders, to the deep vee at the front of her dress and the short skirt that hugged her hips and thighs, down long bare legs that went on and on to the narrow feet tied into strappy sandals that added four inches to her height “—wow.”

Her smile widened as she stepped back to allow him entry to the suite. “I left my denim and flannel in Nevada when I moved away. And because Lily helped me pack, I didn’t have anything more appropriate for a drink with an old friend.”

“I’m not complaining,” he assured her. But while the dress and shoes were nice, he suspected that he would have had the same reaction if she’d been dressed in a pair of jeans and an old shirt. Because Brielle had always been sexy, regardless of what she was wearing—and especially when she was wearing nothing at all.

Which was definitely not something he should be thinking about right now.

He cleared his throat and attempted to shove the tantalizing image to the back of his mind. “Now I’m really glad I didn’t take the time to change after the wedding,” he said, keeping his tone light.

“You look good in a suit,” she told him.

“I feel naked without my hat,” he admitted.

She chuckled softly. “I’ll bet you’re missing your boots, too.”

“I am,” he confirmed. “But Joe put his foot down with respect to my footwear.”

“The things we do for our friends,” she mused.

“Speaking of—where are Grace and Lily?”

“They went down to the casino.” She slid a key card into her handbag.

“You didn’t want to join them?”

“I was reminded that I had other plans,” Brie admitted.

He glanced around the suite and briefly considered suggesting that they stay in and order up drinks. But while that option would afford them more privacy, the proximity of the bedroom might be too much of a distraction—at least for him.

“Do you want to go to The Gilded Lion or The Reservoir?” he asked instead, opening the door for her to exit.

“I assume I can get a glass of wine at either, so I’ll let you decide,” she said, moving past him.

“It looked like you were drinking something fancier than wine at the pool earlier,” he noted.

“Several things fancier,” she acknowledged, as he closed the door behind them and checked to ensure that it had latched. “That’s why I’m sticking with wine tonight.”

He punched the button to summon the elevator. “Let’s try The Gilded Lion,” he suggested. “And maybe get something to nibble on along with the wine. I haven’t had a chance to eat anything all day myself.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said.

They rode down to the main level in silence and were quickly seated in a cozy booth by the hostess of the lounge.

After perusing the drink menu, Brie opted for a Napa Valley Merlot; Caleb ordered a draft beer and an appetizer sampler.

“How was the wedding?” Brie asked, after their drinks had been delivered.

“Short and sweet. And...nice,” he admitted. “I had some reservations, but Joe and Delia seem really happy together.”

“I still can’t believe it. I never imagined Joe Bishop as the marrying kind.”

“Seven years ago, he wasn’t,” Caleb agreed. “But most of our mutual friends are married or in committed relationships, some even with kids, and Joe decided he wanted the same thing.”

“But why the quick ceremony in Vegas?”

“I guess not every bride dreams of a big fancy event,” he remarked.

But they both knew that Brie had done so, because they’d spent hours talking about the wedding they planned to have one day. Of course, that had been a long time ago—before she’d gotten pregnant, when they’d let themselves believe that their families would celebrate their love rather than object to the nuptials.

Back then, she’d envisioned riding to the ceremony in a horse-drawn carriage and walking down the aisle in a designer dress with a bouquet of pink roses. Instead, she’d traveled more than four hundred miles in an old pickup truck to exchange vows in front of a fake Elvis wearing tattered blue suede shoes.

“And a positive pregnancy test can change a girl’s dreams,” she noted.

He wondered if her casual tone was an accurate reflection of her feelings or merely a balm to cover old wounds. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the wedding you wanted,” he said to her now.

“It wasn’t your fault, Caleb. And it’s ancient history, anyway.”

Which was his cue to speak up. “Actually, it’s—”

“So why did Joe and Delia decide to elope?” she interjected to ask again.

He suspected that she wasn’t as interested in the details of a wedding between a groom she’d lost touch with a long time ago and a bride she’d never met as she was in not hearing what he wanted to say. And though he couldn’t let her walk away from him again without knowing the truth he’d kept hidden for too long, he allowed her to steer the direction of the conversation, at least for now.

“Delia lost her father a few years back, and she didn’t want a traditional wedding without him there to walk her down the aisle,” he explained.

“What about Joe’s family?” she asked. “What do they think about the elopement?”

“Well, his mom gave him his grandmother’s ring, so I have to assume she knew what he was planning and didn’t have any objections.”

“An engagement is different than a wedding,” she pointed out, perusing the appetizer platter that had been set on the table and selecting a deep-fried ravioli.

He swallowed a mouthful of beer before venturing to ask, “Do you think your parents would have been okay if we’d announced an engagement before we got married?”

“It doesn’t really matter at this point, does it?”

“Maybe it matters to me.”

She dipped the ravioli in marinara sauce and popped it into her mouth. “Well, my grandfather might have had his heart attack before we ever exchanged vows,” she said, when she’d finished chewing. “And then we wouldn’t have needed to get a divorce.”

Though her tone was deliberately light, he sensed the lingering hurt beneath her words. “Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said.

Her brows drew together as she lifted her glass to her lips and sipped her wine. “My grandfather?”

He shook his head. “The divorce.”

She set the glass down again and traced a fingertip slowly around its base. “I’ve spent enough time today dredging up our past—can we talk about something else instead?”

“We need to talk about this,” he told her.

“Tell me about the Circle G,” she said, ignoring his entreaty.

“Really?” he asked dubiously. “You want to know what’s going on at my family’s cattle ranch?”

“I want to hear what you’ve been doing over the past seven years,” she said. “I know, from conversations with my sister, that your brother’s been busy with The Stagecoach Inn, Katelyn’s law practice is booming and Sky’s still tending bar at Diggers’, but I haven’t heard much about you.”

“Have you asked?” he wondered.

“That would be a good way to start the gossip mill churning, wouldn’t it?”

“The gossip mill never stops,” he pointed out.

“Well, I have no desire to add grist to the mill.”

“I heard you were back for the baptism of Regan’s twins,” he remarked.

“Proof the gossip never stops. But yes,” she said, and smiled then, obviously thinking about her infant nieces. “I’m not just Piper and Poppy’s aunt, I’m also their godmother.”

He wished he could ask her if she ever thought about the baby they’d lost, and all the ways their lives would have been different if their baby had lived. But he bit back the question, instinctively understanding that, even after seven years, bringing up the subject would rip a scab off a still-raw wound for both of them.

Instead, he snagged a cheese ball from the plate and washed it down with a mouthful of beer while Brie nibbled on an onion ring.

She wiped her fingers on a napkin when a chirp sounded. “Grace said she’d text to let me know the dinner plan,” she explained, retrieving her cell from her purse.

He nodded as she unlocked the screen to read the message.

“Apparently there’s been a slight change of plans,” she remarked.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

“They got tickets to the seven o’clock show of Cirque du Soleil.”

He glanced at his watch. “You have to go now?”

She shook her head. “No, they only got two tickets.”

“Your friends didn’t get one for you?”

“Grace said there were only two available, but Grace has a habit of thinking she knows what’s best for her friends without consulting them.”

It took him a moment to read between the lines. “You think she didn’t try to get you a ticket?”

“She feels pretty strongly that I need to spend some time with you, to achieve relationship closure in order to move on with my life.”

Which was similar to what his brother had said, so maybe there was some validity to the argument. “Is that what you want—to move on with your life?” he asked.

“It’s been seven years,” she reminded him. “I think I need to move on with my life. We both do.”

“How do you know I haven’t?” he challenged.

“Maybe you have. But the fact that you’re here with me now would suggest otherwise.”

He nodded in acknowledgment of her point. “I guess I just always thought—hoped—that you’d eventually come back to Haven and we’d work things out.”

“There’s nothing left to work out,” she said gently.

“Do you really believe that?”

“It’s been seven years,” she said again.

“Which doesn’t answer my question,” he noted.

He was right, of course, but Brie hadn’t expected him to pick up on her effort to sidestep his query. In her admittedly limited experience, men weren’t usually very intuitive. But Caleb had always been more attuned to her thoughts and feelings than anyone else she’d ever known.

And because she still didn’t know how to answer his question, she tried to buy herself another few seconds by lifting her glass to her lips again—only to discover that it was empty.

As if on cue, the waitress appeared. “Can I get you another glass of wine?”

“Just the bill, please,” Caleb said, before Brie had a chance to nod her head.

“Of course,” the server agreed, and hurried away.

“Maybe I did want another glass of wine,” Brie said.

“You can have one with dinner,” he told her.

“We still have half a plate of appetizers right here,” she pointed out.

“I need real food,” he said.

“This tastes real to me,” she said, selecting another onion ring.

“Does it taste like steak?”

She dropped the onion ring back onto the plate.

He grinned. “Let’s take a walk, darlin’.”

Since her plans for a girls’ dinner had fallen by the wayside, she decided there was no harm in sharing a meal with an old friend—even if that old friend was also her ex-husband. So after Caleb signed the check, they headed out to the strip.

But he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to find a restaurant, and he held her hand as they weaved through the crowds.

“So I don’t lose you,” he explained, when he linked their fingers together.

And because it felt both natural and comfortable to hold his hand, she didn’t protest. Or point out that they’d lost one another a lot of years before.

They talked while they walked—casual conversation about mutual acquaintances and family members. The initial awkwardness had passed and being with him felt easy and familiar again. It also made Brie remember all the good times they’d shared, and that enticed her imagination to wander down the dangerously tempting path of “what if.”

They lucked out and managed to snag a table at Prime—a steak and seafood restaurant inside the Courtland Hotel. Caleb put his hand on her back as they followed the hostess, and even through the fabric of her dress, Brie felt the heat of his touch branding her skin and making her knees weak.

The small square table was covered with a white linen cloth and set with gleaming silver and sparkling crystal. Comfy armchairs were positioned on adjacent sides of the table, contributing to the intimacy of the atmosphere. Caleb pulled one of the chairs away from the table for her, and as Brie lowered herself into the leather seat, she found herself thinking that this suddenly felt a lot like a date with a capital D.

When they’d been dating, and trying to hide the fact from their respective families, they’d never shared a meal in a fancy restaurant. Because even grabbing a bite at Diggers’ had stretched their budgets—and set tongues wagging. Instead, they’d usually chosen to spend their meager dollars at Jo’s, where they could hang out as friends without anyone blinking an eye.

Brie had never felt as if she was missing out, though. And she’d especially enjoyed the times that they’d taken their pizza up to the old cabin at Crooked Creek and eaten it cold after making love.

She dragged her attention back to the present when she was handed a leather folder. The hostess then recited the drink and dinner specials and promised that their server would be over in just a minute.

“This is few steps up from Diggers’,” Caleb remarked when they were alone, the comment suggesting that his thoughts had wandered down a path similar to her own.

“It’s very nice,” she agreed, opening her menu to peruse the offerings.

“Of course, you must dine in fancy restaurants all the time in New York.”

“I go out to eat more than I probably should,” she acknowledged. “But rarely to fancy restaurants. In fact, one of my favorite places reminds me a lot of Diggers’—right down to the burly bartender.”

“I wouldn’t describe Sky as burly,” he said, his eyes twinkling with humor as they met hers. “Though she can definitely be surly, at times.”

“I was referring to Duke, not Sky,” she chided. The former was the owner of the bar and grill; the latter was his sister, an employee at the bar.

“Oh.” He nodded. “That does make more sense.”

Brie was smiling when the server, who introduced himself as Eric, delivered a basket of warm bread and a pot of whipped butter to the table.

Caleb ordered a bottle of Argentinean Malbec and Eric uncorked it at the table, then poured a first glass for the customer’s approval. He swirled the liquid in the bowl, passed it under his nose and finally sipped before nodding. The server then poured a second glass for Brie.

“When did you become a wine connoisseur?” she asked, when they were alone again.

“I’m hardly a connoisseur,” Caleb said. “But I paid attention when Macy was explaining the tasting procedure to my brother.”

“Macy’s the manager of the inn, right?”

“And now Liam’s fiancée.”

“Your brother proposed to a single mom of triplets?”

He nodded. “And if you think that’s surprising, you should see him dote on those kids.”

Except they both knew that wasn’t likely to ever happen.

On the rare occasions that Brie went back to Haven, she’d done everything she could to avoid running into Caleb. She’d been apprehensive about seeing him: uncertain about what to say, wary about how she might feel. And for more than seven years, her efforts to elude him had been successful.

Though she hadn’t been thrilled about making another trip to Nevada, she hadn’t anticipated crossing paths with Caleb in such a crowded city so far from Haven. Now she was sharing wine and conversation with him, remembering how much they’d once shared—and how much she’d missed him when he was no longer a part of her life.

She shook off the memories and melancholy and turned her attention back to her menu as Caleb set his aside.

“You know what you want already?” she asked, surprised that he’d decided when she’d barely skimmed through the appetizers.

“I’ve always known what I wanted,” he said.

She felt his gaze on her and wondered—for a brief moment—if he was referring to something other than food.

“Steak,” he said, when she peered cautiously at him over the top of the leather folder, and added a wink for good measure.

“Oh, right.” She quickly skimmed the rest of the menu offerings, then closed the cover as the server returned to their table.

Brie ordered the prime rib with garlic mashed potatoes and pan-seared broccolini; Caleb opted for the porterhouse steak with a loaded baked potato and sautéed green beans and mushrooms.

When Eric disappeared again, Caleb buttered a slice of bread and offered it to her.

As she started to shake her head, her stomach growled in protest.

He grinned and moved the bread closer to her lips. She instinctively opened her mouth and took a bite. She didn’t think about the intimacy of eating from his hand until her bottom lip caught on the pad of his thumb.

She abruptly pulled away, her lip tingling at the point of contact. Caleb’s gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered as she carefully chewed the bread.

“Maybe it’s not all in my head,” he mused quietly.

She didn’t ask.

She didn’t want to know—or try to put into words whatever was still between them. Because she could deny it until the cows came home, but it was obvious that something still was.

Thankfully, Caleb didn’t seem to expect a response. Instead, he set the bread on her plate and drew another slice out of the basket.

“Tell me how you know Grace and Lily,” he suggested, as he dipped the knife into the butter.

She latched onto the neutral topic gratefully and spent the next several minutes telling him about her first weeks at Columbia and the development of her friendship with the other two women.

When the waiter returned with their meals, they stopped talking to focus on their food. After dinner, they lingered over coffee and warm apple cobbler with vanilla bean ice cream drizzled with brandy caramel sauce. Though Brie had insisted that she couldn’t eat another bite, Eric brought two forks with the dessert and Caleb urged her to try a bite, and somehow one little nibble turned into more.

She didn’t know what time it was when they finally got back to their hotel. She wasn’t thinking about the clock as they made their way, still hand in hand, through the lobby where enormous chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting glittery light over everything below. They skirted around the towering fountain, its basin filled with coins of various shapes and sizes, to the bank of elevators.

Caleb punched the call button, and while they waited for the doors to open, Brie realized that she wasn’t quite ready to walk away from him again.

She’d agreed to see him tonight because Grace and Lily had insisted that it would give her a sense of closure, but now that it was nearing the time to say goodbye, she knew she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. Not yet.

Instead, she kissed him.

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