“We’ll take my car and come back for yours later.”
“Actually, we can walk. It’s less than a block away.”
He took her down jacket and held it for her, lifting her braid out of the way then letting it fall against her back. She felt his nearness all the way down her back as if he’d spooned with her, just like in Atlantic City during the brief time they’d slept. Back then she’d felt safe in his arms. Comforted.
It wasn’t what she felt this time.
He made small talk as they walked, asking about her day, listening to her stories. Something unusual happened most days.
“Do you gamble?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Not allowed to?”
“It’s an unspoken rule. It wouldn’t be good, whether we won or lost.”
“How did you end up in Atlantic City?”
They both had their hands stuffed into their pockets against the cold. She was grateful he wasn’t pushing a physical connection.
Liar. You want that more than anything.
She ignored the honest voice in her head. “My best friend from high school and I decided to take the summer after graduation to see the country. We ran out of money in Atlantic City, found jobs, then stayed. I stayed, that is. She saved enough to get herself home and off to college. I had no college plans.”
“Wouldn’t your parents have sent you the money to get home?” he asked.
The surprise in his voice told her a lot about him. “I was being independent.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, I liked the city. My job was okay, and I found an apartment to share with two other girls. After a couple of years, the Sterling hired me. They’ve been good to me. And good for me. I’d been very sheltered at home.”
“Were your parents disappointed you didn’t go to college?”
“I imagine so. They never said so, not directly. How about you? Where did you go?”
“Harvard.”
Harvard. Of course. The divide between them cracked wider. The only thing they had in common was the child they’d created.
Don’t forget sexual compatibility. The words didn’t whisper but yelled in her head. Since they’d bumped into each other last night she’d been remembering even more of the details of that night in Atlantic City. But sexual compatibility wasn’t enough to make a relationship work beyond the short term.
“Why did you come to Tahoe?” she asked, as he held the casino door open. She pointed in the direction of the coffee bar.
“To honor a pact I made during college.”
The casino noise prevented easy conversation. They reached the coffee bar and examined the desserts in the display case. A mile-high decadent chocolate cake called her name, but she resisted, determined to keep her pregnancy weight under control. “I’d like a hot chocolate,” she said to the clerk.
“Coffee and a piece of that,” he said when it was his turn, pointing to the slice of heaven Nicole had been coveting.
Great. Now she was going to have to sit across from him while he indulged himself. It blackened her mood.
They sat at a table tucked in a corner. As soon as they were settled he produced two forks, giving one to her. He smiled slightly as if daring her to argue that she didn’t want any.
She supposed she could manage a bite or two. After all, how bad could it be if they shared? A quarter of a piece wouldn’t hurt anything.
Well, maybe half, she amended after one bite.
She glanced at Devlin. His expression was just short of smug.
“It’s good,” he said, toasting her with his cake-laden fork. “Reminds me of the cake we had in Atlantic City.”
She’d forgotten about it. During the middle of the night he’d called room service and ordered a couple of sandwiches and a piece of chocolate cake, her absolute favorite dessert. She’d devoured most of it, making orgasmic sounds of appreciation, which he’d commented on. He’d scooped frosting onto his finger and dragged it between her breasts and down her abdomen, then licked it off….
She met his gaze—direct and bold. He remembered, too, and had no doubt ordered the cake to make her remember.
She picked up her mug. “What kind of pact did you make?”
His eyes sparkled at her change of subject. “During my freshman year I met a fellow freshman named Hunter Palmer. He was charismatic, the kind of guy who could get you to break rules and take adventure to a whole new level. He accumulated friends, of which I was one. Because of that association I also made friends with five other freshmen he’d brought into his circle.”
He sipped his coffee, his eyes unfocused, as if living that time again.
“He sounds special,” Nicole said.
“Yeah. I’d had good friends before, but nothing like that—a group of guys I could count on. Eventually we called ourselves the Seven Samurai. One night we’d been partying enough to have covered our dining table with empty beer bottles, and we pledged to build a lodge on the shores of Lake Tahoe ten years after graduation. Each of us promised to spend a month there, then we would all gather after the last month for a get-together, to celebrate our friendship and successes. Hunter probably chose Hunter’s Landing as his idea of a joke.”
“Why spend a whole month?”
“We thought that a decade later would be a good time to examine where we’d been and where we should be going. A month seemed like the right amount of time. We were twenty-two. What did we know?”
“So you’re supposed to be assessing your life while you’re here?”
“Pretty much.”
“And you all own the lodge?”
“No. In fact I’d forgotten about it. I’ve had very little contact with the guys since graduation.”
“There’s a story there.”
“Hunter died.”
He said it matter-of-factly, but his grip tightened on his mug and his jaw hardened. “Suddenly?” she asked.
“He had melanoma, but it wasn’t caught until it was too late. He died right before graduation.”
“It devastated you.”
He nodded.
“So how did the lodge come about?”
“Hunter left instructions in his will. He created a foundation to have the lodge built in time for our pact to be carried out, then at the end of the six months, the lodge will become a respite house for cancer survivors and patients, plus twenty million dollars will be disbursed to charity. The only requirement is that the six remaining Samurai each stay here a month, as we all promised.”
Amazing. Twenty million dollars given away, just like that. And the lodge must have cost millions. “That’s a lot of money.”
“Hunter’s family is in pharmaceuticals and personal-care products. You’d recognize the brands.”
It felt nice having a regular conversation with him, Nicole thought, leaning back, sated with cake and cocoa. “Why didn’t you all remain friends? I would think that would bind you even further.”
“I don’t think we knew how to deal with it. No one expects a twenty-two-year-old to die like that. Plus we all graduated immediately after and went our separate ways, onto lives and careers. We exchanged Christmas cards for a few years, but even those stopped.”