The resort had been sold. The somber thought weighed heavily on her shoulders. It didn’t help that rumors were running rampant that all the management positions were being replaced. Why did it have to happen with Christmas only a few weeks away?
Everything will work out. Everything will work out. She repeated the mantra over and over in her mind, anxious to believe the old adage. But something in her gut said nothing would ever be the same again.
“Kara?”
The deep baritone voice came from behind her. She froze. Her gaze remained locked on a red bell-shaped ornament as her mind processed the sound. Even in the two syllables of her name, she knew that voice, knew the way her name rolled off his tongue as sweet as candy.
Jason Smith.
It couldn’t be. He’d sworn he would never come back.
“Kara, won’t you even look at me?”
Her gaze shifted to the glass doors that led to the parking lot. Her feet refused to cooperate, remaining cemented to the swirled golden pattern on the hotel carpet. Seven years ago, she’d bolted out those exact doors after Jason had broken their engagement. Back then she’d been unsure and confused by the depth of her emotions. Since then life had given her a crash course in growing up. Running was no longer her style.
She sucked in a deep breath, leveled her shoulders and turned.
Clear blue eyes stared back at her. A slow, easy grin lifted the tired lines around Jason’s eyes. She blinked, but he was still there.
This couldn’t be happening. The overtime and lack of sleep must be catching up with her.
“Are you okay?” He reached out to her.
She jumped back before he could touch her. Words rushed up her throat, but clogged in her mouth. She pressed her lips together and willed her heart to slow. Her pulse pounded in her ears as her fists clenched at her sides. A breath in. A breath out.
“You’re so pale. Sit down.” He gestured to one of the overstuffed couches surrounding the stone fireplace. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
She didn’t move. This surreal moment struck her as a clip from a movie—a visit from the ghost of Christmas past. Only, this wasn’t a Hollywood soundstage and he wasn’t an actor.
She studied the man before her, trying to make sense of things. The dark scruff obscuring his boyish features was a new addition, as was the two-inch scar trailing up the right side of his jaw. His hardened appearance was a visual reminder of the military life he’d chosen over her. Her fingers longed to reach out and trace the uneven skin of his jaw, but instead she gripped the strap of her tote even tighter. A bit older and a little scuffed up, but it was most definitely Jason.
Just pretend he’s a mere acquaintance from years ago, not the man who threw your love back in your face and walked away without any explanation.
“Jason Smith. I can’t believe you’re here,” she said, trying her best to sound casual.
“Actually, I go by Jason Greene these days....”
The fact he now used his mother’s maiden name came as a surprise, but Kara supposed she shouldn’t find it too shocking, knowing the stormy relationship between him and his father. The name change had presumably contributed to her inability to track him down and notify him of his father’s failing health. A question teetered on her tongue, but she clamped her lips shut. Playing catch-up with Jason was akin to striking a match near fireworks. One wrong move and it’d blow up in her face. Best to stick to safe topics.
His gaze implored her for an answer, but to what? She’d lost track of the strained conversation. “What did you say?”
“How are you?”
He wanted to exchange pleasantries as though they’d parted on good terms? She didn’t have time to beat around the bush. She should already be home, getting dinner for her daughter before they went over her homework.
“When you left Pleasant Valley, you swore you’d never return. So what happened? What finally changed your mind?”
His expression hardened. If he’d been expecting a warm welcome, he’d been sadly mistaken.
He shrugged. “Things change.”
Well, most things did, and generally not for the better, but not in Jason’s case. He hadn’t gained so much as a beer gut or a receding hairline. Even the jagged scar on his face added to his sexiness.
Kara’s gaze rose to meet his. At first glance, she thought his intense blue eyes were the same as she remembered, but a closer inspection revealed a hard glint in them. He no longer resembled the warm, lighthearted guy she’d dated for nearly four years. Or had he been that way all along? Had those rose-colored glasses she’d been wearing back then obscured his real character? Had she ever truly known him at all?
Jason hitched his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “I’m sorry about what happened between us. I handled it poorly.”
“You certainly did.”
“If I could explain, I would, but I can’t—”
“Don’t.” She held up a hand, stalling his too little, too late explanation. “Nothing you say will change what happened.”
Her pride refused to let on that his presence affected her, that even after all this time she longed to know what had changed his mind about marrying her. She reconciled herself to the fact that she was better off not knowing—not prying open that door to her past.
Jason shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I guess it was too much to hope that you’d be willing to put the past behind us.”
She lifted her chin, drawing on the strength she’d used to manage this place in the recent absence of her boss, who also happened to be Jason’s father. “I’ve moved on.”
It’d taken time—lots of time—but she’d gotten over him and the way her life had unraveled after he’d dumped her. She refused to let him get under her skin again. Besides, she had enough on her plate already.
After working her way up through the ranks, to now be dismissed from her hard-earned position would be utterly demoralizing. She’d like to think she was needlessly worrying, but the rumors said the new owners wanted their own people running the show—people with more education and experience.
She went to step around Jason, but he snagged hold of her arm. “Wait. I need to apologize.”
Even through her coat she could feel his warmth radiating into her body. She yanked at her arm, to no avail.
“Let go,” she said with a hard edge. He couldn’t just worm his way past her defenses with an empty apology. She refused to let him off the hook that easily. “If you were truly sorry, you’d have said something before now. You wouldn’t have ignored me all these years or returned your father’s letters unopened.”
His hand slipped from her arm. “You know about that?”
She tightened her hold on the strap of the tote bag slung over her shoulder, which held the red scarf she was knitting for Jason’s father for Christmas. “Yes. He told me. After you left, he was never quite the same. Not knowing if you were dead or alive seemed to age him overnight.”
Jason’s body visibly stiffened. “I think you’ve mixed my father up with someone who cares.”
“He’s sick, Jason. Real sick. I’ve done what I can to help him, but he needs you.”
“I don’t want to discuss him.”
She should turn away and walk out the