Beautiful Mine (Beautiful Rivers #1) (14 page)

“Wow,” I breathe.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

I just nod, taking it all in.

The elevator stops and the doors open. “Come on,” he says, putting his hand on the small of my back just for a moment. “You can see more from over here.”

We exit not to a hallway leading to hotel rooms, as I’d expected, but to a luxurious lobby area framed in rich, dark wood. There’s a massive crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, and—directly in front of us—the entrance to the resort’s famous five-star restaurant, Commoners. I’d forgotten it located at the top of the resort.

The lobby stretches away a bit to either side, is lined with massive windows, and has several doors leading out to a covered, stone patio. Connor gives a wave to the hostess at the hostess stand, but leads me out to the patio. “I would’ve brought you here for dinner,” he says as we step outside, “but I wanted more privacy than that. Too many ears.”

We step out onto the patio, where there are a few people hanging out with their glasses of wine, and go to the heavy, stone railing. We’re rewarded with an even broader view than we had from the elevator.

“Okay,” he says, leaning close to me and pointing in the distance and to the right, away from the ocean. There, the grounds just keep going and going. “Those are the different courts,” he says. I see tennis, sand volleyball, basketball, and a large, one-story building nearby. “Then the golf course is over there.”

I’m not into golf, but it looks like a gorgeous course.

“We can take a cart out there if you want to see it all up close, but it’s just as interesting from up here. I’ll take you around the pools and stuff on the ground if you’d like though.”

“All right. What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the building next to the tennis courts.

“Indoor courts. All the same as what’s outside, plus racquetball.”

“Nice,” I say, but I’m taking a closer look at the pools, now. There are several beautiful pools perfect for lounging, plus a lap pool and what looks like a kids’ pool, complete with slides and... “Is that a lazy river?”

“Yeah. I loved that thing as a kid. Rayce won’t let me go on it now, though,” he says. “He thinks it’s an undistinguished activity for the owners. He’s probably right. Maybe.”

I laugh. “What’s that building by the slides?”

“That’s the teen center. It’s full of all these classic arcade games. I think it’d be great if we could expand it to put in other stuff, like bowling and laser tag. See?” he says, leaning closer again and pointing. “There’s plenty of room to add on right there. Maybe renovate the whole thing and give it a cool theme, like pirates or a Tiki hut or something.”

I nod, smiling at his enthusiasm. Maybe when he said he enjoys working here, he wasn’t just saying that. “Sounds great. Are you going to do it?”

His expression dims a bit and he shrugs. “Maybe eventually. Right now it’s… kind of hard to make changes. Rayce and Lizzy have mentioned a few ideas they have too, but it’s only ever been in passing. I don’t think we’re ready to get serious about anything like that.”

“Are you still too busy?”

“At first we were. Now I think we just don’t want to do anything that will make it different than it was the last time they saw it.” He shrugs again and smiles.

“Ah.” I press my lips together and nod. “I can see that.”

He takes a deep breath and turns to me fully. “Okay, do you want me to take you through the restaurant or do you want to just go down and see the ballroom? Or maybe just the ground floor? I don’t know how detailed you want this tour to be.”

“I want to see everything.”

He smiles. “Well, right this way.” He puts his hand on my back again and gestures toward the restaurant’s entrance. God, he gets me tingling every time he touches me. Hell, I’m zinging and humming every time I merely
look
at him.

The whole thing is starting to kind of scare me. I remember how amazing it was to be with him, and I want that. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But I remember what it was like to leave too. And that’s the thing. Even though Connor’s breezed back into my life like the wild little piece of wind he is, that doesn’t mean he can’t breeze right back out. He’s been here in Swan Pointe eight whole months already.

How much longer is that really going to last?

Connor

I feel like I’m playing with fire here.

I don’t even have to ask Whitney if she has a boyfriend. I know. It’s like the connection between us hasn’t lessened at all, like the time apart didn’t even happen.

Except that it did. And being with her is making it hard for me to pretend it wouldn’t kill me to get involved again, only to have to say goodbye. Again.

Because the truth is, that
pacing, pacing, pacing
has been revving through my body more and more these days. I’m trying to make it stop. Not for the first fucking time in my life, I’m trying like hell to make it stop. I don’t know how to do it. How do people
stay?

Earlier, Whitney called me impulsive. She’s not wrong. But that’s something my dad worked really hard to help me be wise about. Going left or right down a street? There’s no harm either way, usually, so it’s fine to take a leap. But if you’re going to, say,
take
an actual leap,
it’s best to check out your landing conditions first.

I learned that the hard way when I went cliff diving as a preteen and broke my arm on a rock under the surface. If I’d landed one foot to the left, I probably wouldn’t have survived long enough to bury my parents.

Dad said it over and over again: there’s
good
impulsive and there’s
bad
impulsive. The difference comes down to being wise enough to assess the risks. It comes down to being strong enough to walk away if taking that leap means you or someone else can get seriously hurt.

Like now. Because as I take Whitney through the resort and watch her eyes light up at the things I’ve come to take for granted—she’s even fascinated by the fucking A/V room for Pete’s sake—I feel that powerful lure of taking a leap.

You know what I mean: the adrenaline of running full out for the edge, the thrill of launching into clear blue sky, and the beauty of falling so fast it’s like you’re flying.

Flying.

Only I can’t see what dangers might be at the bottom of that leap.

For either of us.

Whitney

As requested, Connor gave me a thorough tour. In between getting him caught up on my life—I leave out the dating part—I get to see just about everything. My favorite parts kept changing as we went along. First it was meeting the head chef of Commoners and getting a taste of the
ah-mazing
butternut squash soup they were making. Then it was seeing the stunning Grand Ballroom with its massive crystal chandeliers. And then it was meeting their Events Manager—Renee—and watching her team in action as they set up for a wedding on the massive, second-floor, stone balcony with a gorgeous view of the ocean. The balcony can seat up to 200 people!

Connor and I also played a few games of Mrs. Pac-Man in the teen lounge and got some raspberry truffles from the resort’s little brunch cafe and sweet shop, Sweetbrew.

The most fascinating thing has been getting a glimpse at what goes on behind-the-scenes. I never thought about what it really takes to keep an operation like this going.

But my favorite thing? My most favorite thing? Connor himself. Not just being with him, which has been as amazing as it’s always been, but seeing how he is with his staff. He’s friendly and encouraging, but still wears this air of quiet authority they all seem to respond to. It’s a mix that I find incredibly attractive. In fact, the more employees we pass, and they are
everywhere
, the more amazed I am by who Connor is.

“How many employees do you have?” I ask as he leads me toward our final stop on the main floor, the administrative offices.

“That depends on the time of year,” he says. “We get a big influx of part time and temp workers during the season. Sometimes as many as six-hundred.”

“Holy cow. You manage all these people?”

He laughs. “No. We manage the managers who manage all these people.”

Still.

“What?” he says, grinning at the way I’m staring at him.

“I’m really impressed.”

“Ah,” he says lightly, as we approach a wide, dark-wood door marked
Executive Offices.
“You didn’t know the wanderer had it in him, huh?”

I laugh. “I guess not.”

“That’s all right. It’s a common mistake.”

“I don’t know. Your employees seem to view you with respect.”

“They’ve never met the wanderer though, have they?” he says, winking at me. Oh, I remember that wink. Damn, Connor, you are
killing me.

The fact that he does, clearly, love what he’s doing here is giving me hope, though. It’s also helping me understand why he’s been struggling to make a decision. Between enjoying his work and feeling what I suspect is a strong sense of obligation to his siblings, it’s a wonder this situation isn’t tearing my little wanderer in two.

I’m not sure it isn’t.

We go through the door and into a large area that has a central cluster of nice, open cubicle spaces—for employees who do mostly accounting and administrative support work—and an outer ring of doors leading to private offices. These offices start small—with door tags identifying the Events Manager, Food and Beverage Manager, and so on—and work up to impressive offices well suited for the people who work in them.

Rayce’s name is on the big corner office with large windows facing the lush front gardens. On either side are two offices for Connor and Lizzy, slightly smaller but also with broad windows. Rayce’s office is empty, but my nerves shoot up when I realize Connor is leading me past his own office and straight to Lizzy’s where—yep, there she is, getting up from her desk and coming around as she sees us walk right in.

“Hey Lizzy,” Connor says. “I wanted you to meet a friend of mine. I’m showing her around. This is Whitney Spencer. Whitney, Lizzy.”

Lizzy has dark hair and pretty green eyes. She’s wearing a friendly smile that so resembles Connor’s, but when she hears my name her eyebrows shoot up and she seems to give Connor a questioning look.

If I had to translate this look, I’d say it went something along the lines of,
Oh, ho, ho. Who do we have here?

But then the look is gone and she’s back to smiling at me. “It’s nice to meet you,” she says, shaking my hand.

“You as well. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good, I hope,” she says, like she’s not at all worried about how Connor might talk about her when she’s not around. These are the kind of people who make me wonder what it would have been like to grow up with siblings and be such good friends with them later in life. “Is he giving you the grand tour?”

I nod. “It’s really beautiful here. I’m so impressed.”

“Thank you. Ah, here’s Rayce.” She looks behind us and we turn to see Connor’s older brother walking through the door.

Rayce certainly resembles his siblings in appearance, but his demeanor is something else entirely. While it’s easy to describe Connor and Lizzy as friendly, Rayce is much too powerful a presence to be defined by such a word. He’s not
un
friendly, and gives me a gracious smile as he enters and notices me, but he’s the kind of person who
looks
like he owns and runs a famous luxury resort.

Connor introduces him as “Rayce”, but when we shake hands and I say, “Nice to meet you,” it’s awfully tempting to add a
Sir
to the end.

“Whitney and I met in Spain last year,” Connor explains. “She works for the Kendrick Refugee Outreach Center in San Francisco and is visiting one of the kids she placed with a family that lives here.”

“Now I’m the one who’s impressed,” Lizzy says. “They do great work.”

“They do. Thank you.”

“Well, since you’re here I think you should join us for our monthly dinner on Sunday.” She smiles and glances briefly at the other two as if to get their opinion about the idea, but doesn’t wait for them to give it. “How long are you in town?”

“Uh…” I look to Connor to see if this is a serious offer or what. He’s giving his sister an amused smile. “I fly out Sunday afternoon.”

“We can change it to Saturday then. Are you free Saturday?”

“You didn’t ask if
I
have Saturday free,” Rayce says, but he’s giving her a smile that manages to be both distinguished and fond. It’s easy to see these brothers love their sister.

“Shush.” She waves a hand at him and looks at me. She’s smiling at me eagerly. I have to say, she seems so genuine and welcoming that I kind of want to go. But I don’t know. Having dinner with Connor’s family feels like a bit much, like we’d be taking a
step
or something. We haven’t even had a chance to talk properly. For all I know, that’s as far as this is going.

“Stop trying to take over her vacation,” Connor says easily, winking at me.

“Oh fine.” But she’s still smiling gracefully.

“Thank you for the offer, though,” I say, and mean it.

Rayce pulls out his phone, which has just beeped at him. He checks the screen. “Excuse me, I have to go. Oh Connor, did Lukas ever send you those numbers?”

“Yes. I’ll get my report to you Monday.”

“All right. That works.” He looks at me and I’m a little startled to have his full attention again. “Whitney, it was nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”
Sir.

“We’re off as well,” Connor says. “We’re having dinner at Martini Ranch.”

Lizzy nods in approval. “Your tour’s over then?”

“Just about. I still want to show her the gardens.”

“Well enjoy, you two.” She gives a little wave as she heads to her chair, and I wave back.

When we’re out in the hall, I say, “Your family’s so nice.”

“Tell me I’m the cutest one,” he says, grinning. “Even if you have to lie.”

“Oh, I don’t have to lie,” I say, without hesitation. “I’ve already told you how hot you are.”
In fact, you’re driving me crazy.

“Good answer. I’ll be sure to tell Rayce you said that.”

“No!”

He laughs at my reaction. “I’m only teasing.”

“Good,” I say as we head through the lobby and toward the front entrance. “Because your brother’s kind of intimidating.”

Connor laughs. “Oh, he’s all right. You know, when he’s not being an ass.”

I glance at Connor, not sure if he’s kidding or what, because in spite of the laugh, there was something in his tone.

We walk over to the gardens, which are on the west side of the resort’s front grounds, situated along the edge of the bluff, so there’s a clean view of the ocean. There are winding paths, little waterfalls, a lovely footbridge. It’s beautiful and impossibly romantic. We’ve slowed our pace and are meandering through in silence. For the first time since I arrived, we’re away from people. In fact, it feels like we’re completely alone.

We took so long on the tour, it’s nearing dinnertime and the sun’s making its descent toward the horizon. In a few more hours, it’ll be sinking into the water, which makes me think of the ocean sunset we once watched in Spain.

It makes my heart yearn for him, and he’s right here.

We come to a little labyrinth, laid out with white, rounded stones. It’s just off the main path, and set on a base of firm gravel. Impulsively, I enter it and start following its curved pathway, from the large outer circle, in to the smaller circles. Still in heels, I have to hold my hands out a bit to keep my balance on the gravel.

Connor stays on the garden’s main path, and I sense him watching me. I glance at him. His hands are in his pockets, his intense eyes are on me, and he’s giving me a look that brings a warm flush to my face.

Heart pounding, cheeks warm, I drop my eyes to the path and keep them there until I reach the center. Only then do I stop and meet Connor’s eyes again.

And there’s the look I’ve been waiting for.

The one that says he intends to kiss me.

It’s the look I’ve been longing for since we started the tour. Hell, since I saw him at lunch.

Scratch that, I’ve been longing for this since I left his ass in Spain.

Keeping his eyes on me, Connor steps off the path and into the labyrinth. He doesn’t follow the circular path though. He just steps over the little stones and slowly comes straight for me. A gentle breeze blows through, ruffling the soft fabric of my skirt around my thighs.

My heart is pounding and I feel a little unsteady on my feet. But I take a step forward to meet him anyway. We come close, bodies just shy of touching, and he puts his hands on my upper arms. I rest my hands on his waist, under his suit coat.

Neither one of us moves. His eyes are holding me in place. I’m holding my breath. Now I can’t tell if he wants to kiss me or not. Maybe he doesn’t know either.

But then he bends down and presses his lips to mine, so lightly. My breath catches and my hands gently squeeze his waist. Our lips part just slightly, and our heated breaths swirl together.

My eyes meet his, and in them I see the same confusing blend of hesitation and desire that I feel. We freeze here, searching each other’s faces, and I know the split second before he does it that he’s going to pull away.

“Sorry,” he says thickly, straightening. But he hasn’t let go of me. “I... maybe shouldn’t have done that. Not because I don’t want to,” he says quickly, reacting, I know, to the look on my face. “I just...” he squeezes my arms firmly, like he’s hanging on, and takes breath. “It was really hard ending it last time.”

I press my lips together.

“So... maybe we... shouldn’t,” he says, his voice full of regret.

Because you still can’t make promises,
I think. I swallow past the lump in my throat. God, he’s probably right. I hate this.

“It
was
hard,” I say. But as I look up at him, I know it wasn’t hard enough to keep me from doing it again. I want to be impulsive and reckless and take him while I can get him and pay the consequences later. Part of me doesn’t care.

But maybe he feels differently about me. And I don’t want to rope him into this when he’s telling me he wants to step back.

“All right” I nod. Agreeing. Hating it. “It’s okay.” I’m suddenly cold and shiver a bit. I drop my hands and rub them on my forearms.

“Come here,” he says gently, pulling me into him.

I wrap my arms around his waist, rest my cheek on his chest, and sigh. We stay there for several minutes, hanging onto each other.

“Can we still have dinner?” I ask. I’m not ready to say goodbye. “Just as friends?”

“Of course.” He squeezes me. “I want to.”

“Okay,” I say, just relieved this isn’t over yet.