A Brand New Ending (Page 5)

“I didn’t write those screenplays.”

“Oh, sorry. Sometimes they all seem the same.” His wince confirmed she’d made a direct hit to his ego. “I am not now and will never be your consolation prize, or the vehicle needed to reconnect with your past. Whatever we felt for each other died long ago—including our friendship. I’d advise we leave the dead untouched. Don’t you agree?”

She walked past him, opened the door, and waited.

Slowly, he backed up, took his briefcase, and stepped into the cold. He paused only briefly. His gaze pierced hers, holding her captive. Those dark-green depths mixed with seething, raw emotions.

Then Ophelia shut the door.

Her fingers shook. She held her breath and counted.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven . . .

Footsteps clattered down the porch steps. Soon, headlights cut through the side window, arced high, then disappeared into the night.

It was like he’d never even been there.

He was gone.

Relief sagged her muscles even as her stomach turned. Ethan would be pissed. She hadn’t acted as a gracious, calm, centered hostess. She’d turned a childhood friend out in the cold after he asked for help. It was against everything she’d practiced and become since returning home—a woman who not only accepted but also tried to embrace her new life and find joy in all the hidden parts.

Today, she’d acted like a lover scorned. A mean-spirited bitch. A woman bent on a little revenge.

God, it felt so damn good.

She headed toward the kitchen to open a bottle of wine.

Vacuuming was definitely done for the day.

Chapter Three

Ethan stared at him in shock. “She threw you out?”

Kyle sat back in the leather chair and sipped his coffee, enjoying the added touch of cinnamon that elevated Ethan’s usual black sludge. Of course, Mia had probably made it. The petite, attractive woman perched by his friend’s side was comfortably notched against his chest, her head barely reaching Ethan’s chin. From her fashionable bobbed honey hair, manicured French nails, sleek black pants, and trendy sweater, he knew she’d definitely been the one to upgrade both the coffee and bungalow.

Ethan was a minimalist. Even though the bungalow was small, Mia’s special contemporary touches made it homey, from the canvas watercolors of Saratoga horse racing, Tuscan pottery vases sprouting wild blooms of color, and scattered throw rugs, afghans, and matching pillows in rich earth tones.

Though it was the first time they’d met, Kyle took an instant liking to the woman who had stolen his friend’s heart. Ethan’s leg had almost been blown off during a Special Forces mission, and he’d suffered some wicked PTSD. Finding love with the right woman had softened all his hard edges and put a joy back in his eyes that seemed to make all the bad worth it.

Kyle reached down to pet the dogs curled at his feet. He couldn’t believe Wheezy was still around. The family hound had howled in welcome after catching his scent, his white face evidence of an advanced age. The dog had been part of many of their adventures on the Bishop farm, and well loved. He’d found a companion who seemed to be his shadow—a small brown-and-white terrier mix named Bolt. Currently, the pup was snoring on top of Wheezy’s back.

He put his coffee mug on the table. “Let’s just say she made it clear I wasn’t welcome.”

“What happened between you two?” Mia asked, brow arched in curiosity. “Ethan said you guys were all tight friends growing up.”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Ethan said. “I went into the military, and you both took off to California. By the way, I’m still not pleased with that move.”

Kyle winced. When his friend had found out from Harper they’d run off, their friendship had taken a hit. Thank God, after some time, Ethan had forgiven him. “Sorry.”

Ethan snorted. “Yeah, right. Anyway, they were in California for a while. Then suddenly Ophelia comes back, declares she’s done singing, and wants to run the B & B with Mom. When I asked what happened with you, she said it just didn’t work out. I figured she didn’t like the lifestyle out there, but I never realized there was bad blood between you two. What happened, dude?”

Kyle took another sip of coffee to buy time. If only there was one answer to that question. Instead, a million responses whirred in his head, hurting his heart.

He’d been too young. Too sure of the world around him. Too selfish. Too ready to sacrifice anything for his dream, even if it was love.

He’d spent enough nights racked with regrets but always pushed them away to chase the next film project. He’d gone from a poor farmer in a small town to a big-time Hollywood screenwriter. He’d morphed from a kid whose own father despised him to a famous writer with an audience of millions who reveled in his talent. It had been easy to get lost.

And Ophelia?

The image of her slammed into his vision. How many times had he imagined her in his dreams? The milky white of her skin. The thick coarseness of her strawberry-blonde hair. The sprinkling of freckles on her cheek that looked like a heart. The bee-stung lushness of her mouth. Once, he’d known every inch of her body, able to pleasure her by just a touch.

The woman he’d met today was so much better than his memory.

Clad in those tight yoga pants that cupped the perfect curves of her ass and hips, heavy breasts that he could see were braless no matter how hard she tried to hide it, her face bare of makeup—which only emphasized the freckles she despised—he’d been thunderstruck. Those sky-blue eyes flashed with a confidence and challenge that practically begged a man to tame her.

Once, he’d risen to that challenge. Now, he had no right.

But the moment he stepped close, his gaze delving deep into hers, he’d been hit by a surge of pure electricity that almost knocked him on his ass. He’d caught her tiny hitch of breath; the way her pulse beat madly beneath her pale, delicate skin; the dilation of her pupils. Their chemistry had always been red-hot. Their connection ran deep. He knew if he reached out to touch her, she wouldn’t be able to fight her reaction. Their bodies still belonged to each other, no matter how many years had passed.

Instead, he’d clenched his fists, ignored his straining dick, and tried hard not to remember how she was the only one who’d ever made him feel whole.

She accused him of running away.

But who’d been the one to jump on a plane and return home without a look back? Had he been that easy to forget?

She gave up on him, her vows, and her own dreams to retreat back to safety.

But he couldn’t tell Ethan any of it. It would rip his heart out to know the truth.

Kyle refocused on the conversation. “We had a big fight in California. She came home, and I stayed. Guess we never really had time to settle the argument.”

Mia cocked her head. She raked her gaze over him in a way that was way too shrewd for his comfort. “Ophelia doesn’t fight. She’s the calmest, most centered person I’ve ever met.”

Kyle barely managed to clamp down a laugh. The girl he’d known was a spitfire. Mischievous. Passionate. Stubborn. She gave with her whole heart. “She must’ve changed, because that’s not the woman I knew.”

Ethan laughed. “Yeah, Kyle always knew how to push her buttons. Tink has definitely settled in. Now she’s happy to run the inn and control her own environment. Just like Mom.”

Kyle smiled at the nickname Ophelia’s brother had bestowed on her from their shared love of Disney movies. With her looks, she was definitely fairy material—and she also had the famous Tinkerbell temper.