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  Ryan burst through the door. She jerked the zipper closed on her bag. Somewhere he’d found his pants. He glanced from her to the bag before stepping forward. “I’m sorry.”

  Mikayla held up her hand. “Just get out of my way.”

  “I know it seems bad, but it’s not what you think.” Ryan’s usually perfect posture gave way to stooped shoulders.

  She closed her eyes, unable to meet his stare. “Get out of my way, Ryan.”

  His footsteps on the hardwood floor were slow as he crossed the room. She stiffened when he gently clasped his hands around her shoulders.

  “Mikayla, please, let me explain.” His voice dripped with regret, as if he were actually sorry about what happened.

  She opened her eyes. Even with the remorse in his eye, he still reminded her of the guy she’d considered her friend. Piercing brown eyes that had been full of sincerity when he’d insisted his feelings were real. The same full lips that comforted her when he’d kissed her forehead after she’d come to bed late the night before.

  She took a deep breath. The pungent smell of sex coated him. Revulsion twisted her stomach. She pushed his arms off her shoulders. Anger lifted her knee as she sharply kicked him between the legs.

  A piercing cry burst from his lips before he curled into a ball and fell to the floor. She stepped around him, gently pulled her coat off the hanger, and walked out the door. She may not really be a socialite, but she could hold her head high and walk out like one. The noise in the lobby hadn’t died down. Philip Caldwell’s voice arguing with another that she recognized as his brother’s overpowered the other voices.

  So much for keeping the peace at this damn wedding.

  Renee waited for her at the bottom of the stairs. Hands wringing before her and, lips turned down into a frown. Renee opened her mouth to speak, but Mikayla lifted her hand. Right now Mikayla couldn’t stomach seeing Renee, she looked too much like her twin.

  Maybe her friendship with Renee was just as superficial as her relationship with Ryan. Another person she thought she had a connection with but was only fooling herself. Pain flashed across Renee’s features, but thankfully she let Mikayla pass.

  She strode out of the estate into the cold February air with her head held high. Quickly, Mikayla put on her coat and stared at the icicle lined trees. What did she do now? She’d ridden up with Ryan, but she’d be damned if she stayed here all weekend. She pulled her cell phone out and searched for a cab company. The list of local cabbies had popped up a second before Andre burst through the front door, a single overnight bag in his hand.

  Their gazes locked. Mutual understanding flowed between them. He may be from the side of the Caldwell family feuding with Renee and Ryan’s side, but right now he was the only other person who wanted to get the hell off that mountain as much as she did.

  “Can you give me a ride?”

  He hesitated. She didn’t blame him. They’d barely talked the night before, and she was the girlfriend—former girlfriend—of the man who’d just fucked his woman in a closet. Mikayla considered taking back her request when he held out a hand. The tension in her shoulders eased a bit as she placed her palm in his. The warmth of his grasp traveled up her arm and spread like fingers inside her chest. His brow furled before he looked away and walked her to the black Mercedes S 550 brought out front by the valet.

  The snow that fell the night before crunched under their feet. She lowered her head and watched as the fragile crystals shattered by their steps. Shattered, much like her earlier enthusiasm of being invited away for a weekend with Ryan Caldwell. Just moments ago she’d thought her life was perfect. That she’d arrived. Instead, she was once again the outcast who didn’t belong with the cool kids.

  Andre dropped her hand as soon as they reached the car. The loss of his warmth seemed like another fist to her gut on a crappy afternoon.

  Ryan burst through the front door. His concerned gaze darted first to her then Andre. He hobbled toward them. “Mikayla!”

  She ignored Ryan and stared at Andre, “Let’s go.”

  Andre cracked his knuckles. She expected him to cross the distance and beat the crap out of Ryan. Instead, he clenched his jaw and entered the car. She followed and slammed the door. Closing her eyes, she blocked Ryan’s calls while Andre speed out of the driveway.

  CHAPTER 2

  Andre whipped his car around a sharp curve. Anger pushed his foot on the pedal every time he remembered Angelica landing on the floor in Ryan’s arms. He’d thought he and Ryan were past this. Past the childish games and petty rivalry their father’s started. What the fuck was he thinking? No matter how much he tried to pull away this infighting would never end.

  He swung around another curve, hit a patch of ice, and jerked the wheel quickly to straighten the vehicle. His companion gasped. One of her hands gripped the door, the other balled into a fist between their seats. Easing off the gas, Andre maneuvered the next curve at a slower speed. The snow and ice from the night before made the roads worse than they were when he drove up yesterday. Killing both of them in the mountains would be an imperfect ending to the weekend from hell. His fingers released their death grip on the wheel, and he tried to control his angry foot.

  He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to let her come with him. In their brief conversation the night before, he could tell she was starry-eyed for Ryan. The desperation on her face when she’d asked him to leave pushed past any preconceived notions from the night before. She may not have had the good sense to stay away from Ryan, but she didn’t deserve spending the rest of the weekend up there.

  Spotting a bar on the main road, he quickly pulled his car into the parking lot. He needed to calm down. He was too angry to drive rationally. Neon beer signs flashed in the windows of the wood building, old gas station signs hung on the exterior walls. It wasn’t his ideal place to stop, but the lack of a Confederate flag was enough to make it suitable.

  “Why are we stopping?”

  He turned to…damn, he’d forgotten her name already. “You want a drink?”

  She scanned the building, nose crinkled, she drummed the fingers of her right hand against the door. After a few seconds of consideration, she turned to him and shrugged. “No stars and bars. Why not?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted in an appreciative smile that she’d looked for the same flag he had as she opened the car door and stepped out. Whatever her name was, she wasn’t stuck up, something not usually found in Ryan’s girlfriends.

  They entered the dim interior of the bar. Country music played softly in the background and a thin haze of cigarette smoke clouded the view of the few people at the bar. The friendly smile of the bartender eased his tension.

  “Sit wherever y’all want.” The bartender yelled. “I’ll be over in a second.”

  His companion nodded at the bartender before sliding into one of the worn wooden booths near the front window.

  “His greeting is comforting,” she said.

  “I agree.”

  She looked out the window and he checked out the inside of the bar. No need for false conversation. There weren’t many pleasant things to say after finding your significant others having sex in a closet.

  She ran her fingers through her hair. He’d noticed her hair the night before. It was cut chin length and framed her face in a sleek even style. He loved when a woman’s hairstyle accented her features. The smoke filtered sunlight didn’t diminish the glossy shine of the dark brown, almost black, bone straight tresses. His fingers twitched to touch them, and he clenched his fist.

  Andre had noticed a lot about her the night before. She wasn’t what he’d expect from one of Ryan’s girlfriends. Flashy, high maintenance, and beautiful were what Ryan usually went for. Instead, she was stylish but didn’t appear fully comfortable with her style. Her steps hesitant in heels, as if she were still getting used to them. Sexy, in that girl next door kind of way. The biggest shocker, her kindness. While everyone else struggled to get away from his step-sister, sh
e’d jumped right in to help. The mismatch of her and Ryan grabbed his attention the second he’d seen them together.

  His eyes strayed to the hint of cleavage revealed by the buttons of her light green blouse. Yeah, he’d noticed her for other reasons, too. He jerked that thought back. No more sleeping with his cousin’s girlfriends. His family may be ruthless, but he’d adopted the philosophy of using that tactic only for a specific purpose. Sleeping with her served no goal. Ryan didn’t want her, and he didn’t want Ryan’s leftovers.

  He cleared his throat and shifted in the seat. She looked back at him with wide eyes that sparked with her anger.

  “Can you believe that just happened?” she asked.

  Thoughts of her tempting cleavage were forgotten as the memory of the reason for their departure came back. “No.”

  She lowered her eyes to her fingers tracing grooves on the table. She had nice long lashes. “How long were you two together?”

  He sat back in the stiff seat. “Nine months.”

  “Was it serious?”

  He glanced over his shoulder for the bartender. Thought of the engagement ring in his bag. “You can say that.”

  “You know Ryan begged me to come. After years of listening to my instincts tell me he wasn’t ready for a grown-up relationship, I finally broke down and look what happened.”

  She opened her mouth then snapped it shut. She gave him a wary glance, before crossing her arms and stared out of the window. Twice she turned to him as if she were going to say something before sighing and turning away with a frown.

  He didn’t blame her for keeping her thoughts to herself. As much as he wanted to punch the hell out of something or scream, he wouldn’t dare do it in front of her. Why tell her he wasn’t surprised Ryan had slept with Angelica? This one would probably be back in Ryan’s bed after his cousin begged, flashed those dimples, and bought an expensive gift.

  The bartender finally lumbered over. A tall slender man, with thin blonde hair and a wide smile minus one side tooth. “Sorry folks. I got to talking to my cousin at the bar. Him and his missus going at it again. Not that y’all came in here to hear about my cousin’s problems. What can I get you?”

  “Coke, please,” Andre said. A bit of rum in it along with a cigarette would go nicely. But not while driving unfamiliar roads. Plus, she didn’t seem like the type who would share a smoke with him.

  The bartender turned toward…was it Marcella? “And you miss?”

  Her brow creased and she slid him a questioning glance. “I’ll just have a Coke.”

  Andre raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t want something stronger? I know I do.”

  “But you’re drinking soda.”

  “I’m driving icy mountain roads. Get what you want.”

  She nodded then smiled at the bartender. “Amaretto sour, please.”

  The bartender nodded. “Coming right up.”

  Again, Andre silently watched her as they waited for the drinks. She turned to the window, hair swaying softly against the curve of her cheek. She had a cute heart shaped face, and toffee color skin he’d bet money was silky soft.

  A few minutes later, the bartender returned with the drinks. “Here ya go, folks. Do you want me to keep a tab open?”

  Andre shook his head. “No, we’ll be on our way soon.”

  A frown creased the bartender’s brow. “Where you from?”

  “South Carolina,” she answered.

  The man’s frown deepened. “South Carolina…that’s I-40. I hate to tell you this, but there was a rock slide on I-40 last night. You’ll have to take the detour and I don’t think the roads have been cleared of last night’s snow.”

  His companion’s glass hit the table with a thud. “What? No, I need to get home.”

  The bartender shrugged. “Don’t kill the messenger. You might want to find lodgings for tonight. Start over in the morning.” He turned and left them to their drinks.

  Slender fingers once again raked through her glossy hair. “This is just great.”

  Andre took a swig from his coke, now would be a good time to add that rum. “Actually, it’s pretty damn lousy.”

  “What are we going to do? I’m not going back to that wedding.”

  “I agree with you on that.”

  He hadn’t wanted to go to his step-sister’s wedding in the first place. But showing loyalty to the family by attending was a non-negotiable. Curtis Caldwell demanded loyalty from his kids above all else. Not that Barbara would have cared if he hadn’t shown up. They’d disliked each other the day their parents introduced them. Two days after his dad left his mom and informed his sons his best friend’s wife would be their new mother.

  “We’ll find someplace to stay and leave tomorrow.” He downed his soda and considered ordering something stronger.

  “I didn’t see any hotels on the way out.”

  “We’ll figure something out.”

  “Like what?”

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose and tried to ignore the sudden onslaught of a headache. I shouldn’t be in this damn predicament in the first place. He was supposed to show his face, propose to Angelica and secure his lifetime hostess. Then take his butt home to finalize the pieces on a new deal that would undo some of the tarnish clinging to the family business. Improving the negative image his dad created while building Caldwell Environmental Solutions into a mega house in the waste management world was all Andre cared about. Angelica effectively ruined part of his plan to show the next generation of C.E.S. was settling down and preparing for the future. If he were alone, he’d brave the icy roads, but the risk of scaring his companion half to death, was not a viable option.

  He pulled out his cell phone to search for hotels nearby. No network signal. He sighed and dropped the phone on the table.

  “We can drive downtown, look to see if there are any rooms available.” He focused back on…Melissa? But she was gazing out of the window again.

  She tapped the foggy glass. “There’s a cabin rental place across the street. Maybe they have one we can get for the night.”

  He turned to the sign visible through the window for Huggie Bear rentals. One cabin sat behind the sign, and a small winding road led up to several cabins along the mountain.

  “I’m not sure a cabin makes sense.”

  She turned to him, her brows creased as she frowned. “Cabin, hotel, does it really make a difference? Since we’re stuck together for the night, we might as well make plans soon.” She looked at the sky. “We might get more snow.”

  He mirrored her movements. Heavy grey clouds sat motionless in the sky. As if summoned, a few fat flakes drifted down. With an inward sigh, he resigned himself to the cabin idea.

  “Huggie Bear it is. I hope they have something available.” He drained his soda.

  Megan maybe…took a small sip from her drink. She set the glass on the table and used the tip of her finger to play in the condensation along the cup. Drawing lines until a large drop formed and ran down the side of the glass. She repeated the movement over and over.

  “I can’t believe this happened…” she said softly. Tears glimmered in her eyes.

  Andre shifted in his seat. Please, God, not a crier. Comfort wasn’t his strong suit, and this situation called for more than a pat on the back and a gruff there, there. Seduction, shrewd business tactics, and money he knew, not compassion.

  “I’m not surprised by anything my cousins do. Especially Ryan,” he said.

  She blinked away the tears. “Funny, Renee said the same thing about you and your side of the family.” She took another sip of her drink. “I wonder which side is worse.”

  Andre cocked a brow. “Both.”

  She sat up straight. Her confused gaze jumped back to his. “I’m surprised you’d say that. Renee and Ryan never lay the blame on their end.”

  He caught the bartender’s attention and called for a rum and coke. Might as well since they were staying across the street. “That doesn’t surprise me. T
he rift between our families is equal on both ends. This stunt your boyfriend pulled today is just another previously used weapon in the Caldwell family arsenal.”

  “You mean…he’s done this before?”

  “We both have.” He accepted the drink from the bartender.

  “But, why. Why would he do that while I’m around? I thought—”

  “You thought you were special. That Ryan really cared about you?”

  Her face hardened at the mocking tone of his voice. “I’ve known Ryan for six years and in that time we became friends. Or, at least, I thought we did. Despite what happened, I can’t believe he would do something so vile just to taunt you.”

  He thought back to the rivalry. The bogus family reunions organized for the opportunity to claim bragging rights for their kid’s achievements in sports and grades. The long lasting rivalry was the only reason they’d invited Uncle Philip and his family to Barbara’s wedding. To show off. The competition, suspicion, and disdain drove his dad’s ambition to have more, and to some extent drove Andre too. Fighting and backstabbing were all he knew.

  “Never underestimate the Caldwell rivalry,” he said and then drained half of his drink.

  Arms crossed over her breasts, hands briskly rubbing up and down she diverted her eyes.

  “Let’s go,” she said. “It’s snowing harder.”

  He reached for his wallet to pay the tab. She pulled two folded bills out of her purse and dropped them on the table.

  “I got it,” he said.

  She shook her head. “You gave me a ride. I don’t mind buying you a drink.” Sliding out of the booth, she hurried to the door.

  He stared at the money on the table. The drinks weren’t much, but he’d expected her to wait for him to pay. He turned to where she stood by the door. Arms folded, head held high, a calm expression on her face. Poised, even though they’d both been hit by a landslide of humiliation. She hadn’t crumbled. No hysterics when Ryan and Angelica fell out of the closet. Only a trace of tears. Angelica would have had a world class fit in that lobby if the tables were turned. She has her shit together. Ryan, what kind of fool are you? Losing a decent woman over a stupid rivalry.