Happily Ever After Page 9

  “I did, thanks.” She turned at the sound of Clay slamming the trunk closed.

  “All set, Miss Harrison,” he said, moving around the truck to climb back in.

  “Wait . . .” she said.

  Logan watched her walk to Clay, heard her thank him, and saw her discreetly slip him what Logan was sure was a generous tip. Clay smiled and laughed at something she said, raised a hand in parting to Logan, and drove down the long, winding driveway.

  She went back to Logan and said, “I’m glad to see you here but a bit surprised. Were you waiting for me?”

  “I was,” he said. “Just to make sure you got settled in all right. You said it was a spur-of-the-moment trip when you called, so . . .” He lifted a hand to rub the head of the ten-pound dog squirming in her arms. “Hey, Bubbles. Hello, you tiny princess.”

  The dog barked and licked his hand, squirming even harder.

  “Thank you for waiting,” Tess said. “You didn’t have to. I’m sure you’ve got your hands full; I know it’s the busy season here.” Her breath escaped in white puffs.

  “No problem at all.” Logan waved a dismissive hand. “More bags than usual, I noticed. How long are you staying?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure.” She shifted the dog in her arms for a better hold. “Definitely until the end of February, possibly longer. I’ll see. For once in my life, I’m playing it by ear.”

  “Really?” Logan’s eyes widened a bit and his brows lifted. The longest any of the Harrisons had stayed for a visit had been two weeks. Curiosity pricked him.

  “Mm-hmm.” She grinned and added, “So you’ll be seeing more of me, I suppose.”

  “I have no problem with that,” Logan said. “C’mon, let’s get you both inside; it’s cold out.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his ski jacket, he stepped aside to let her walk before him. He couldn’t help but admire the sway of her hips and her long, long hair as she moved. She’d be in Aspen for two months, maybe longer? That bit of interesting news, along with seeing her, had brightened his day. Maybe his whole week. In spite of having his guard up around her, there were few women he enjoyed looking at more than Tess Harrison.

  Chapter Two

  Tess set Bubbles down as soon as they stepped through the door. The dog took off, skittering across the polished hardwood floor and barking happily. The warmth of the house was a wonderful contrast to the cold outdoors; Tess pulled off her leather gloves and opened her coat. She hadn’t been here since last March and she looked around with a smile as she took it in, the familiar space a comfort. The door closed behind her and she turned to gaze at her house manager, who flashed an amiable grin as he stepped toward her.

  From the first time she’d met him, she’d thought Logan Carter was a seriously striking man. Incredibly tall—tall enough for her to think him tall—broad and muscled, with shaggy blond hair and pale green eyes, he was ruggedly handsome, a quietly powerful presence. He reminded her of a Viking; picturing him in that garb with a heavy sword in his hand wasn’t too far a stretch. But his beard, a shade darker than his hair, was neatly kept. His gorgeous eyes twinkled with geniality, not bloodthirst. His large hands were callused from hard work and his cheeks were often ruddy from working outdoors. Standing in her elegant foyer in his worn jeans and work boots, navy hoodie under a royal blue ski jacket, he looked a little out of place, but his presence was both commanding and reassuring. She’d always liked him, and yes, liked looking at him too.

  But his powerful stance and chiseled good looks weren’t the only reason she found him striking. It was the way he carried himself. This strong, very physical man was quiet, somber, and intelligent. Quick to grin but not to talk; unlike most handsome men she’d met, this guy wasn’t in love with himself or the sound of his own voice. He thought before he spoke. She loved to coax big smiles from him because she sensed he didn’t do it often enough. He was attentive to details, clever, and a born leader—he radiated natural command. She’d wondered more than once how a man like him had gotten into the house-managing business. There was a story there, she was sure of it.

  “The place looks great,” she said brightly. “Didn’t realize how much I’d missed it until just now. Thank you so much for being willing to get it ready for me on such short notice.”

  “Like I said before, not a problem.” His deep voice was resonant, utterly masculine. “I’m glad I was able to do it.”

  She’d called him early the morning before, the morning after Christmas, to ask him to have the house ready for her arrival in twenty-four hours. He hadn’t given her an ounce of attitude. Someone else might have. “Well, I really appreciate it.” She pulled off her parka and set it on one of the three rust-colored couches in the living room. “Today, you’re my knight in shining armor.”

  He snorted out a dismissive laugh and stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “Nah. A woman like you doesn’t need a knight.” But his green eyes sparkled as he smiled.

  His pleased smile made her feel like she’d earned a gold star. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

  “No, thanks, I’m fine.” He glanced toward the back of the house when the dog barked, then looked back to Tess. “I’m going to my mom’s place for lunch when I leave here, so don’t you worry, I’ll be overfed.”

  Remembering, Tess’s smile faded some. “How’s your mother doing? Hopefully better?”

  His grin faded too. “Uh . . . no, actually. Last rounds of chemo and radiation have made her weaker but haven’t beaten the cancer. So, well . . .” He shrugged. “It is what it is. But she had a nice Christmas, so that’s something. It’s, uh . . . well. Yeah.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Tess murmured, genuinely moved. She didn’t know much about Logan, but she remembered their chat when he’d revealed a few personal details. How he’d grown up about half an hour outside Aspen, and when he’d moved back a few years before to start work in his cousin’s house-managing business, his mom had sold his childhood home and bought a condo in Aspen to be closer to him. But a few years ago, things had changed and he was helping her instead—a widow battling breast cancer on her own. After a double mastectomy, she’d gone into remission for a year or so, but apparently . . . damn. Tess sighed and said gently, “Please send her my best. I know she doesn’t know me, but . . . I really do wish her well.”

  His pale eyes fixed on her, rounded a bit. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”

  Bubbles barked and came running in, sliding a bit on the polished floor. Tess crouched down to scoop her up into her arms. “Silly girl, you’re going to slide right into a wall if you don’t slow down!”

  Logan chuckled. “I put the poinsettias high so she couldn’t eat them,” he said, his voice stronger now, not husky as it’d been a minute before. “I know they’re not poisonous to dogs—that’s a myth, you know—but it can make ’em sick if they eat ’em. So I just figured better safe than sorry.”

  “You did that?” Tess glanced at him in surprise, then darted around to the bright red plants, then back to him. “How thoughtful of you. Thank you! The color is so fabulous. Red’s my favorite color, you know.”

  “I didn’t know that.” He eyed the parka she’d removed. “But come to think of it, I guess you do wear a lot of it.”

  “Yes, I do. Because I love it.” She grinned and walked across the living room to the glass wall. One of her favorite features of the house, the entire back wall was made of glass, from the foundation to the roof. The views it afforded of the mountains and the landscape beyond were absolutely breathtaking. Pristine snow covered the peaks, both close and in the distance, and the clear blue sky seemed endless. “Have to hit that mountain soon,” she said. “I haven’t been skiing in a long time. I’m likely rusty.”

  “If you want me to set up a time on the mountain for you,” Logan volunteered, “I can do that.”

  She turned back to him with a smile, stroking her dog’s soft fur as she walked back to him. “Oh, I can do that, but thanks. I don’t know when
I’ll go just yet.” She paused. “Is the Lotus Yoga Center on Blake Street still open? That’s where I went last time I was here.”

  “Oh, sure. Business is booming, actually—they expanded the studio over the summer. Added another three rooms.” Logan ran a hand over his dark blond beard, an absentminded gesture that made something in Tess’s belly ping low. His beard looked like it was soft. She was suddenly seized with an urge to touch it and find out. “Their spa expanded too. My cousin Rick’s wife, Sami-Jo, is one of the managers now. Any time you wanna set something up, ask for her. Tell her I sent you.”

  “I will. Good to have connections in town,” Tess said with a conspiratorial air.

  “Ah, I just know folks, that’s all.” He reached out to pet Bubbles’s head, then said, “You have any questions, need anything, don’t hesitate to call me, okay?”

  “Thank you, Logan. I absolutely will.” She grinned as Bubbles licked his hand.

  “I’ll be by the day after tomorrow to take out the trash for you, restock the wood if you need, the usual.” He zipped up his jacket all the way. “So, uh . . . staying by yourself for two or so months, huh? Charles and Dane not coming at all?”

  “I needed some time to myself,” she said, lowering Bubbles to the floor again. When she straightened, she looked him in the eye as she said, “I’ve got some things I need to do. On my own. But . . . I’ll admit, I feel better knowing you’re around. Someone to call if I need to.”

  “Of course you can,” he said. “For anything, any time. Promise me.”

  She blinked but said, “I promise.”

  He glanced around the living room, a distracted sweep of his eyes. “I don’t mean to sound like this’ll sound,” he said with a bit of hesitation. “But knowing you’re up here by yourself . . . I’ll be checking on you sometimes. Just to make sure you’re all right.” His eyes glittered with something protective. “If that’s okay with you, of course. I don’t mean to insinuate you’re not a grown woman who can take care of herself. I’m just . . .” He ran a hand through his golden hair, tousling it. It was long enough that the ends settled past his square jawline. “It’s winter, you’re up here by yourself . . . I’m kind of old-fashioned that way.”

  Her stomach did a slow flip, surprising her. “Your mother raised you right,” Tess said softly. “There aren’t many gentlemen left in the world these days. It’s okay with me to be checked on occasionally.” She smiled and added, “Thank you in advance.”

  His chin bobbed in something like a tiny bow, and the chivalrous gesture made her stomach wobble again. “All right, then. Good. Well, I’d better get going.” He looked at her for a moment longer, then headed for the door. “Your SUV’s in the garage. I took it out yesterday for a quick spin to gas it up; it’s running fine.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “Of course.” He turned to look at her as he opened the heavy front door. “Hope you enjoy your stay.”

  “I will.” She followed him, holding the doorknob as she looked up into his handsome face. “Thanks again for everything. Have a great rest of your day.”

  “Thanks. You too.” He flashed her one last mild grin, then stepped outside.

  She watched his long, strong legs carry him as he strode to his truck, a silver Ford F-150 with a long flatbed. The truck, like its owner, was big and powerfully built. She closed the door and turned back to look at the wide, high-ceilinged rooms, the burnished wood and glass, the rusts, tan, browns, and olive of the décor . . . and let out a long exhalation of contentment. She’d done it. She was far from home, on her own, free to do what she wanted.

  And what she wanted was to make herself a temple to peace and serenity. So her body would welcome the priming necessary to become pregnant, and then hopefully conceive without too many attempts once she picked a sperm donor. She’d already started her research on the plane, narrowed the clinics down to a top-notch facility right there, just outside Aspen city limits. She intended to interview the staff there soon after the New Year.

  This trip would be her personal retreat. She’d relax here, take yoga classes, paint, ski, read, eat well . . . without being watched over by her family or friends, free to have wobbly days if they happened, free to do whatever she liked before committing herself 100 percent to life as a single mother, and to care for her baby.

  A feeling of calm washed over her as she sank down onto one of the plush rust-colored sofas. She stared out at the magnificent view of the mountains and the spread of forest before them. She’d done the right thing, coming here. Something told her it was going to be exactly what she needed to venture into the next part of her life.

  * * *

  By the end of her second day there, Tess felt more settled. She’d gone grocery shopping; stopped into the yoga center to sign up for classes twice a week and a one-on-one session every Wednesday; stocked up on paints, brushes, and two new canvases; and taken a morning hike along the winding path up the mountain. While in town, she’d run into a few acquaintances who were also in Aspen for the holidays, which was a pleasant surprise. She’d even seen and made a lunch date with Allie Connors, an old friend from grad school who’d married well, had three kids, and had a house on Red Mountain not far from hers. Allie had always been able to get Tess to open up and enjoy herself; she’d be good company for the few weeks she’d be around.

  Initially, Tess had thought she’d live like a monk while in Aspen, but seeing Allie had excited her. She was a social butterfly; she couldn’t deny it. Seeing people here and there would be better for her than living in complete isolation.

  Tess took her tall glass of ice water into the living room and sank down onto the longest couch, opposite the fireplace. A yawn escaped her as Bubbles hopped up to snuggle her, and Tess checked the clock on her cell phone. Just past four; it seemed like an ideal time to catch a catnap. She stretched out on the soft cushions, propped a throw pillow behind her head, cradled Bubbles, and let her eyes slip closed.

  Her phone rang and she groaned. She had personal ringtones for all the men of her family: Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” for Pierce, Justin Timberlake’s “Can’t Stop the Feeling” for Dane, David Bowie’s “Heroes” for Charles, and Coldplay’s “Viva La Vida” for her father. Now, as Bowie sang to her for the fourth time in two days, she knew she couldn’t put her eldest brother off anymore and answered the call. “Hello there.”

  “About time you answered,” Charles half-growled. “You let me go to voice mail one more time and I was getting on a plane tomorrow to make sure you were okay.”

  “God, you’re a bear,” she teased. “I’m fine. I just want some alone time.”

  “You’re not fine,” he asserted. “You took off. You’re not answering calls, not mine or Dane’s or Pierce’s. Why won’t you tell any of us what’s going on?” He paused. “I’m really worried about you. I care. I’m not trying to be a jerk; I’m just concerned. Don’t you get that?”

  “I do. I’m sorry.” She sighed and shifted her position, rolling onto her back so she could gaze out the glass wall while they spoke. Pine trees parted just enough to reveal the majestic mountaintops beyond. She knew this would be a long talk and opted to enjoy the view during it. “I didn’t mean to worry anyone and didn’t think I would. You’re all overreacting a little. I just . . . got a little selfish for the first time in a long time. Wanted to do something for myself, by myself. I’m sorry you’re concerned, and I assure you there’s no reason to be.”

  “Two months, Tess?” Charles’s voice had softened some but still held firm. “You want to be away from everyone—your family, your huge circle of friends, your career—for two whole months, maybe more. Yes, we’re all concerned. And you’re still not really telling anyone why. Why is that?”

  “Because my life is my own,” she said, an edge to her voice she hadn’t counted on. “You all have your wives, someone to answer to. I don’t have to answer to anyone.”

  He paused, and Tess could almost hear the gears clicking in his he
ad. Charles was an incredibly smart, shrewd man who was renowned for the way he could read people. She waited to hear what he’d come up with. “Tess . . . you’re not sick, are you?”

  “What?” she sputtered. That wasn’t what she’d thought he’d say. “No!”

  “You sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes. I swear. In fact, I’m in the best physical health I’ve been in for a long time.”

  “Okay . . .”

  She sighed again. She wasn’t being fair. If it was the other way around, and one of her brothers had done what she had, she’d be going out of her mind wondering why and worrying. “Charles . . . there’s no big mystery. I’m not sick and hiding it. I just wanted some time for myself. A drastic change of scene. Something of a retreat. It’s not about anyone but me.”

  He grunted, signifying he appreciated that but it wasn’t enough.

  So she added, “I’m painting, of course, and I’ll be working from here. I’m also taking yoga classes, I’m going to see some friends who are in town . . . I promise I’m still getting out and doing things. I just need to do this right now.” She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to tell him she was planning to get pregnant soon, but she just didn’t yet. “I swear, there’s nothing to worry about. You all are just so used to having me around in the background, you’re aware of my absence now.”

  “That’s . . . Jesus, Tess. That’s how you think we all think of you? As merely some background support to lean on when it suits one of us?” Charles spat a curse under his breath. “I can’t believe you could even say that. Don’t you know what you mean to us?”

  Tess smiled gently to herself. “Yes, Charles, I do. But—”

  “But nothing. You’re not some Greek chorus for the Harrison brothers, dammit.”