Everything You Need (12 page)

He worked his mouth and couldn’t seem to find the
right words. She stalked down the stairs, out of the house,
ignoring Brice’s calls. Her feet sank into the sand, making her
angry march feel more like lunges than stomps.

She held onto the anger, though. Not letting the
other emotion, the one that would make her knees give from under
her, come to the surface. She would have been better off never
meeting him.

Yes, she got her job back, but it wasn’t worth it.
Breathing became a little hard too do, and it had nothing to do
with the fast pace of her walk. She took a deep breath, hoping it
would forestall the rising emotions in her throat. She stopped and
closed her eyes. Willingly Hazel had let him in and even at the
time she knew it was a bad idea.

If your first thought after sex was how bad things
would end… She should have run, but she’d felt alive for the first
time in years. Glancing back, a silhouette started to form in the
distance. It was Brice, but he wasn’t moving any closer.

Hazel’s breath caught. It meant nothing. It was just
a short affair. A job, if she really wanted to lessen what they
were. She closed her eyes and then opened them again. At her front
another silhouette cane into focus. She recognized Angie’s
signature gait now. Hazel moved toward her, needing a shoulder to
cry on, because Brice had meant something. It was the first lie in
years that she couldn’t tell.

Chapter 11

“You’re an idiot. You know that, right?” Tony said
before stuffing the meatball in his mouth.

Brice secretly hoped his brother would choke on it.
How many times had he thought the same thing? He should have gone
after Hazel, but how many more times could he apologize before she
stopped forgiving him? Hazel was better off without him. He glared
at his brother, who continued to stuff his face with spaghetti.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You should. I know women. Maybe I can help.”

Stabbing at a meatball, Brice laughed. “Me, take
advice from a man who plans to stay a bachelor until he’s eighty?
Don’t think so.”

“I’ll just tell Mom, then, what actually
happened.”

“Aren’t you too old to be eavesdropping on personal
conversations?”

Brice already knew he wouldn’t get an answer, because
his brother was right. His mother didn’t know all the details, but
if she found out she’d probably stop feeding him altogether. She
would also kick him out of his old room. Bad enough she’d stopped
talking to him in English a day ago. No words he wanted to
repeat.

“Hazel was the best thing to come into your
life.”

Stiff fingers clenched around the fork. “And what was
Carmen?”

“You made a good decision. Handled it badly, but a
good decision to break things off. She wasn’t right for you.” Tony
shrugged. “On some level you knew. Now, about Hazel, you’re just
being an idiot.”

He couldn’t dredge up the necessary sarcasm for a
proper reply. He stood to clear off his plate. “Well, it’s a moot
argument. She’s left the beach house and gone back to work. Some
woman named Angie told me.”

“Just like that? You’re just going to give up?”

Brice braced his hands on the sink, barely fighting
the urge to verbally rip his brother a new one. “Yes.”

Tony sighed. “You can’t say I’ve never told you
anything—give her the house. That’s better than any lame apology
you could come up with.”

He ignored his brother, because a letter addressed to
him sat upright by the coffee maker. He picked it up. From a
company called
Everything You Need
. “How long has this been
sitting there?”

Tony wiped his mouth. “Since the mailman came by. Mom
told me to tell you about it.”

Brice smirked. “In English?”

“Yup.” Tony picked up his plate. “I’ve been trying to
tell you for years she loves me more than you.”

With a flick of his wrist, he ripped the letter open.
It invited him to stay for a free week in the cabin where Hazel had
stayed. He frowned at the paper. How in the hell did they get this
address? Tony took the letter out of his hands.

“And you talk about me being immature,” Brice crossed
his arms.

Tony placed the paper on the counter. “Since I’ve
given you my wisdom as an older brother who understands women, you
should know what you have to do now.”

He sighed. “Work for Dad and then leave the ball in
her court.”

Tony motioned to the letter. “You should take the
vacation first.”

Brice slapped Tony’s back extra hard. “Finally,
something I can agree with.”

*****

Hazel crooked the phone between her ear and shoulder
while opening up her mailbox at home. She should have enjoyed her
vacation while it lasted. “Hazel Garvey.”

“This is
Everything You Need.
”

She inwardly groaned at the familiar voice. “Hi,
Angie.”

“Oh, I should have paid attention to the name.
Anyway, you left a painting at the cabin and you need to pick it
up.”

She stuffed the box under her arm and walked toward
her home’s door. Cobwebs had started to form along the doorjamb.
“What painting?”

“The one you left above the bed. If you don’t get it
in the next twenty-four hours we’ll have to charge you $2,000.”

Yes, she had the money to burn, but that wasn’t the
point. “You gave me that painting. How can your company charge me
for leaving it behind?”

“I don’t make the rules. I just follow them.”

“I thought you didn’t follow the rules.”

“When it comes to a client’s welfare and what they
need, those are the guidelines I follow. Our current client is very
unhappy with the painting and you need to pick it up.”

“We kind of bonded with our last chat. Well, really
you just cried for a few hours, but I think we came to an
understanding. I’ll be in huge trouble if you don’t pick up the
painting. Do this for me. I really can’t afford to lose my job.”
She paused. “It’s really not a job but a duty, and if I fail the
consequences will be dire. Brimstone type of dire.”

Angie wasn’t the type of person who instilled
loyalty, but Hazel could understand a demanding boss. She liked the
challenges Laura threw at her, but yeah, she understood brimstone
type of dire. She placed her purse on the table in the foyer and
sighed.

“Okay, I’m not sure if I can make it today. Will your
new client mind if I stop by to get it?”

“Nope, it’s what he needs. Thanks. Got to go.
Remember—twenty-four hours.”

Snapping the phone closed, she pulled the small
package from under her arm. She didn’t recognize the handwriting
and it didn’t have a return address. Warily she tore open the side
and shook out the contents.

Keys fell into the palm of her hand. Hazel frowned
until she recognized the charm. It was the country of Italy. She
knew only one person who’d have that type of charm on a key ring.
Only one person who would send her keys to say “Sorry” in his own
ass-backward way.

She glared at her phone. “New client, my foot.”

Hazel balled the keys into her fist, knowing but not
liking what she had to do.

*****

She pounded, like the police would if pursuing a
suspect, on her former cabin’s door. It sounded like someone was
breaking his neck to get to it. Brice opened it and, even though
she’d expected to see him, it surprised her. Instead of taking in
the sight of him, she threw the keys at him. He caught them and
frowned at her.

The nerve of some people. “What in the hell do you
think you’re doing?”

“I’m on vacation until I start working for Pops.”

Nails dug into her palms as she tried to keep a
semblance of control. “Well, now I’ve given you the keys back. Sell
the house. I’ve gotten my career back. There’s no need to throw
yourself on the altar of forgiveness. And you sure as hell don’t
have to work for your father as a penance.”

He stepped back to let her in and she pushed past
him. “I’m not giving you the house as penance. And what in the hell
are you doing here?”

“I’m here to give you the keys and pick up my
painting. Don’t change the subject.”

She stopped her tirade long enough to see the
condition of the cabin. It was a mess. A pizza box sat on the
island in the small kitchen. It looked like he’d kicked off the
day’s clothes and left them on the floor to rot. “You can clean. It
won’t kill you.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t see the purpose. Every morning
I wake up and the cabin is clean.” He pushed the keys into her
hand. “Stop getting off the subject. The house is yours.”

She pushed the keys against his chest. “If it means
you having to work for your father, I don’t want them.”

His hand covered hers and his eyes still dark,
changed with purpose. “Why does it matter to you if I work for my
father?”

She stepped back, but he moved with her. “I don’t.
You can rot, for all I care.” She lied, but it wasn’t as easy as it
used to be. She glanced down, breaking the eye contact first.

“Liar.”

She brought her gaze back to his. “Why did you send
me the keys in the first place?”

He placed her hand over his chest and stilled. “I
wanted you to have it.”

She watched for something other than sincerity to
cross his face. He was telling the truth. Hazel took another step
back. He followed. Hazel realized a moment too late she’d back
herself into a wall. Her heart beat in her ears as the blood
started to rush into her head.

“I don’t want your sacrificial lamb if it means you
giving up your renovation business.”

As usual his eyes seemed to look past her, straight
through the lies. “Why do you care?”

She swallowed, though the spit in her mouth had
dried. “Now that I’m working again, I won’t be able to get to a
beach house often.”

“You need to make the time. I’m sure fantasizing
about the porch deck and the view from the master bedroom will
force you to take more time for yourself just to get back to it.
Give me a better excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse.”

He raised his brows and pressed against her. He now
held both of her hands and there was no way she could get out of
his embrace gracefully.

“There really isn’t any point for me to keep it. Our
agreement was for you to sell it.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

She swallowed again at his intense stare. Hazel
didn’t have much pride, but admitting her real reasons to him would
make her vulnerable. She wasn’t about to give up that power to him,
not again.

“Why do you care whether I keep the house?”

“I can’t call it love, but I want to make sure you
aren’t driving yourself insane with the job. I want to protect you,
even if that means from me. I saw the way you looked at the walls
of my house and longed for them. I want to see you look that way
until I get tired of it. If that means forever, then it’s forever.
But I never want to make you cry. That’s all I know for certain,
Cara.”

His words took the fight out of her. She was never
going to own rights to her feminist card if he kept talking to her
like that. “And I’m supposed to believe you’ve had a change of
heart? You won’t lash out at me anymore?”

“Me lash out?” He grinned. “Who was the one who threw
the keys at me at the beginning of this conversation, anyway?”

Damned if he didn’t have a point. It felt better to
argue with him than to close herself off like she’d been doing.
“Constant conflict isn’t healthy for any relationship.”

“Why do you care, Cara?” His voice softened.

His whole body was pressed against hers now. Hazel
had to admit she had missed the warmth of him. The way he made her
feel alive, wanted and cherished. She had never felt like she could
be honest with anyone, before Brice.

Her mind went back to him standing on the porch,
waiting for her to meet him halfway. She hadn’t; she’d kept on
walking. Looking into his eyes, that emerald gaze, telling her the
truth of how he felt for her, Hazel relaxed against him. It wasn’t
about who won or lost—it was about meeting him halfway.

“I can’t call it love,” she told him.

He smiled down at her. “I was lying, and so are
you.”

“God, we’re hardheaded.”

He brushed his lips against hers. “
Mi
amore.
”

Hazel closed her eyes and pressed her mouth against
his, needing the comfort, knowing she’d could always find it here.
“Yes,
mi amore.
”

Both their hands closed over the keys, and it was
everything they both needed.

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