Grace shrugged, because it was true. “I do seem to fall in and out of love frequently and easily. But sharing the joys and heartaches with friends is part of the journey—and the healing process.”
“You’re right,” Brie said. “And I do feel better now that I’ve told you about my ill-fated marriage, but I don’t want to talk about Caleb anymore.”
“We’ll table the discussion for later,” Lily agreed. “Because you don’t have a lot of time left to get ready before he’s going to be knocking on the door.”
“I wouldn’t have to worry about that if someone hadn’t given him our room number,” Brie remarked, with a pointed look at Grace.
Her friend shrugged. “What can I say? Apparently I’ve got a weak spot for handsome cowboys.”
“So maybe you should go for a drink with my ex-husband,” Brie suggested.
“I wasn’t invited,” Grace pointed out.
“I’m still not sure why I was,” she admitted.
“Don’t worry about his reasons,” Lily suggested. “This is your opportunity to prove to your ex—and to yourself—that you’re one hundred percent totally and completely over him.”
“If you’re sure that you are,” Grace said.
“I am,” she insisted.
But as she stood under the spray of the shower and thought about the evening ahead, Brie couldn’t deny that seeing him again made her suspect she wasn’t as totally and completely over Caleb Gilmore as she wanted to believe.
* * *
Seven years after she’d walked out of his life, Brielle Channing still had the power to take his breath away—a fact that was proved to Caleb when he spotted her by the pool earlier that afternoon.
He’d given himself a minute to draw air back into his lungs and think about what he was going to say so that he didn’t stutter and stumble over his words, and he’d thought that first meeting had gone rather well. But seeing her had sent his whole world into a tailspin.
Although he’d made it to the chapel to witness the exchange of wedding vows, Joe had to elbow him in the ribs—twice—to prompt him to hand over the ring when requested by the officiant. Because the whole time he was standing beside his friend, he was thinking about Brie.
His first love. His wife. The woman he’d always believed would be the mother of his children.
The only woman he’d ever loved.
Yeah, he knew it was pathetic. And no way in hell would he ever admit it aloud to anyone else, but it was a truth he couldn’t deny to himself. For Caleb, it had always been Brie. She wasn’t just “the one”—she was his everything.
But she’d walked away from him, forcing him to acknowledge that she didn’t feel the same way. To accept that the love they’d shared was gone, the vows they’d exchanged were broken, the lives once joined together were now torn apart.
And he’d moved on. Or at least continued to live his life, working beside his father and brother, grandfather, uncle and cousins at the Circle G. He’d even built the house that he’d once imagined he would share with Brie, but he lived in it alone, and the three extra bedrooms planned for their children remained empty and silent.
Not forever, of course. Just because he’d lost Brie didn’t mean he’d given up hope on finding another woman to fill his heart and share his home. The only problem was, every other woman he met wasn’t quite right—because no other woman was Brie.
His brother believed that Caleb loved the memory of Brielle more than he’d ever loved her. Liam had encouraged him to see her again, insisting that he wouldn’t be able to move on with his life until he’d put his past with Brie behind him. Caleb didn’t think his brother was any kind of an expert, but since Liam had recently gotten engaged to Macy Clayton—a single mother of year-old triplets—Caleb was forced to acknowledge that his brother might know a little bit more about relationships than he did.
So tonight, he was going to have a drink with Brie—and finally confess the secret he’d held close to his chest for seven years.
Caleb knocked on the door numbered 1268 and mentally braced himself to see her again. This time, it wouldn’t be a surprise. This time, he would be prepared.
Except that nothing could have prepared him for the stunningly sexy woman in the little black dress and skyscraper heels who suddenly appeared before him.
He felt breathless and a little dizzy, as if he’d been sucker punched. Then she smiled, a follow-up jab that nearly brought him to his knees.
“You’re punctual,” she noted.
“And you’re—” his gaze skimmed over her, from the sleek fall of pale blond hair that fell past her shoulders, to the deep vee at the front of her dress and the short skirt that hugged her hips and thighs, down long bare legs that went on and on to the narrow feet tied into strappy sandals that added four inches to her height “—wow.”
Her smile widened as she stepped back to allow him entry to the suite. “I left my denim and flannel in Nevada when I moved away. And because Lily helped me pack, I didn’t have anything more appropriate for a drink with an old friend.”
“I’m not complaining,” he assured her. But while the dress and shoes were nice, he suspected that he would have had the same reaction if she’d been dressed in a pair of jeans and an old shirt. Because Brielle had always been sexy, regardless of what she was wearing—and especially when she was wearing nothing at all.
Which was definitely not something he should be thinking about right now.
He cleared his throat and attempted to shove the tantalizing image to the back of his mind. “Now I’m really glad I didn’t take the time to change after the wedding,” he said, keeping his tone light.
“You look good in a suit,” she told him.
“I feel naked without my hat,” he admitted.
She chuckled softly. “I’ll bet you’re missing your boots, too.”
“I am,” he confirmed. “But Joe put his foot down with respect to my footwear.”
“The things we do for our friends,” she mused.
“Speaking of—where are Grace and Lily?”
“They went down to the casino.” She slid a key card into her handbag.
“You didn’t want to join them?”
“I was reminded that I had other plans,” Brie admitted.
He glanced around the suite and briefly considered suggesting that they stay in and order up drinks. But while that option would afford them more privacy, the proximity of the bedroom might be too much of a distraction—at least for him.
“Do you want to go to The Gilded Lion or The Reservoir?” he asked instead, opening the door for her to exit.
“I assume I can get a glass of wine at either, so I’ll let you decide,” she said, moving past him.
“It looked like you were drinking something fancier than wine at the pool earlier,” he noted.
“Several things fancier,” she acknowledged, as he closed the door behind them and checked to ensure that it had latched. “That’s why I’m sticking with wine tonight.”
He punched the button to summon the elevator. “Let’s try The Gilded Lion,” he suggested. “And maybe get something to nibble on along with