Chapter 14
Regan
I step out of the car and head up the long driveway to the King estate. The triple-story mansion rises ahead like something out of a magazine, with red bricks, manicured trees, and a green lawn. I run my hand along the smooth banister as I climb the steps to the front door and press the bell.
I’m expecting staff. Maybe the same housekeeper in her crisp whites.
Instead, the door swings open, and Scarlet appears, her smile so wide it nearly knocks the tired right out of me. “I knew it was you.” She steps into the doorway and pulls me into a hug.
I didn’t realize how much I missed this, missed her. Friends back in the city are fine. Some are even great. But none of them feel like home the way she does.
Scarlet pulls it back with a grin, gesturing to me. “Come on in.”
The floors are the same wood from when we were kids, but newly polished, the grain glossy and golden in the soft lighting.
The house smells like fresh lilies and high-end candles.
Framed prints line the walls now, floral arrangements tucked in the corner, soft light spilling through high windows.
The whole house feels like Somer, Scarlet's mother, put love into it.
I follow her through the open-plan living area, trailing her toward the back.
“Can I get you a drink?” Scarlet asks as she glances over her shoulder.
“Sure,” I say, already loosening up. “What are you having?”
She lifts a bottle from the counter and winks. “Wine. Obviously.”
I grin. “Then pour me one too. Wine sounds perfect.”
She’s already reaching for a second glass when her mom appears from the hallway.
“Oh my goodness!” Somer beams, eyes lighting up. “Look at you. It’s so nice to see you.”
I don’t hesitate. I step into her arms, letting her wrap me up in the kind of maternal hug that makes my throat tighten. It hits me then that I haven’t called my own mom today, and guilt twists in my stomach. I’ll have to do that first thing tomorrow.
When we pull apart, Somer runs her hands gently over my arms, still beaming. Her eyes are kind, bright, identical to Scarlet’s, and they search mine with open affection. “You’re just as beautiful as ever.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Thank you.”
“Any lucky man?”
“No, nothing’s changed there.”
She tsks playfully. “That’s okay. You’re still young.”
“I’m just focused on work right now,” I say honestly. “It’s been… a bit of an adjustment being back.”
Somer nods in understanding. “I bet.”
Scarlet hands me the wine.
“Mom, want one too?”
“I’ve got mine somewhere…” Somer glances around, then waves a hand. “But yes, I’ll take a fresh glass.”
Scarlet vanishes toward the bar with a small laugh, and Somer turns her attention back to me. “So. How’s it been? Since you came back?”
I take a sip of wine, letting the cool, citrusy taste from the Chardonnay fill my mouth before answering.
“It was hard at first. I won’t lie.” I glance toward the patio doors, where the garden is shining in evening glow.
“But today was… better. I helped Dad clean out the spare bedroom. It was actually kind of nice.”
Somer tilts her head, like she’s trying to see beyond the words. “That does sound nice, darling. You could’ve invited him here, you know.”
I smile faintly, warmth curling in my chest again, but this time, it’s something more than just relief or familiarity. It’s this feeling I get whenever Scarlet looks at me like that, or her laugh rings out too long.
“Yeah, I know.” I swirl the wine in my glass as I lean against the counter. “But I think he liked having me to himself today. Kind of… happy to see me again. On my own, you know?”
Somer gives me a knowing smile and winks. “Maybe next time, then.”
I smile back, but my gaze shifts. “Where’s Milton?” Her husband.
She glances over her shoulder. “Oh, he’s out the back somewhere. I hope you’re hungry. Got enough food to feed an army.”
I chuckle, scanning the room. “Where’s Dusty?”
Somer doesn’t seem to notice the shift in my voice. “Probably out back too. With Brant.”
Her words hit me like a splash of cold water, and my grip tightens slightly around the wineglass. Brant? My skin prickles. Surely, she doesn’t mean that Brant. Why would he be here? Why today?
Suddenly, the idea of wandering outside loses its appeal.
I’d already bumped into him once today, and now the thought of seeing him again…
Something I can’t name takes over my senses.
A tension. Or an ache I shouldn’t feel when I’m supposed to be focusing on myself.
But somehow, he’s everywhere, filling my thoughts.
I sip my wine slowly, letting the chill of it cool my nerves, and shift my attention back to Somer, who’s talking about her new routine since retiring.
“I’ve been volunteering around town,” she says, eyes lighting up. “At the library, mostly. And the community garden. Keeps me busy.”
“That’s lovely,” I say, grateful for the distraction. “Sounds like the perfect kind of busy.”
Before she can respond, the front door opens. The sound of it makes my heart kick too fast, and I freeze, unsure of who I’m about to see. The footsteps grow louder, approaching.
I turn. “Milton!” I exclaim, my smile coming easily this time.
“Oh, love, it’s so nice to see you,” he says, pulling me into a bear hug, not like the stiff pat my dad gave me. Milton’s hugs have always felt natural.
“Are you ready to eat?” he asks, releasing me. “We’ve just finished cooking. We’re going to dish it up outside. Hope you don’t mind; we figured with the warm night, it’d be a good idea.”
“Not at all.” I smooth my hands down the front of my maxi dress, suddenly glad I chose the blue-and-white one. It fits the summery evening and makes me feel just a little bit... pretty.
“All right, then,” Scarlet chimes in, looping her arm through mine. “Let’s head out.”
I nod, trying to keep my smile steady, but the moment we step out onto the timber deck and go to stand beside Greer, the view makes me forget how to breathe.
The land stretches endlessly, lush green rolling into the horizon.
There’s no visible fence line, just open space, tall trees, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of grass and eucalyptus.
Not many flowers, but honestly, it’s beautiful in that understated way.
I remember playing with Scarlet out the back, making up elaborate stories about being lost princesses who had to survive in the wilderness with whatever we could find.
“Wow,” I whisper. “I forgot how stunning it is out here.”
Scarlet appears beside me, wineglass in hand. “We’ve changed quite a bit?”
I glance at her, smirking. “I suppose that happens after twenty years.”
We laugh together, the sound rising into the warm air. The past flickers between us like a shared secret. I glance toward the yard, and then I see them.
Dusty and Brant.
They’re kicking a ball back and forth across the grass, both wearing relaxed grins. My heart squeezes. Dusty looks so happy.
But my eyes betray me, drifting to Brant, who’s effortlessly confident. The ball curves toward him, and he kicks it back with smooth precision, his white-collared T-shirt lifting just enough to reveal a flash of skin and a dark trail dipping beneath his waistband. My breath stutters. Oh no.
I tear my gaze away, just as Scarlet calls out behind me, making me jump.
“Dusty! Brant! Look who’s here; come and eat!”
Brant turns. And that’s when it happens.
He flashes me a smile. One that only lifts on one side. The one I remember way too well from the hospital parking lot. It curls low in my belly. What the hell is wrong with me?
He starts walking toward us, cradling the ball under one arm. Dusty takes it from him mid-step and sprints down the yard, bouncing it as he runs.
“Hi, Dusty,” I call when he hits the deck.
He grins, waving back. “Hi!”
Something about that wave feels like a tiny victory.
But I can feel Brant approaching, and no matter how casual I try to appear, my pulse gives me away. He stops in front of me and offers a polite smile. “Regan.”
“Brant.” I return the smile before moving to the table.
Food is laid out on plates, and I can’t believe how much there is. Roast beef, herbed potatoes, glistening vegetables, three different salads, and warm, crusty bread.
And of course, the table setting is ridiculous. Fancy restaurant ridiculous. Linen napkins threaded through gold rings. Too many forks. Crystal glasses that feel unnecessarily heavy in my hand. I sip from mine, trying not to look overwhelmed.
Scarlet gestures to the seats. “I arranged everyone so we’d have good conversation flow,” she says with a grin that tells me she’s up to something.
And just my luck, my seat is next to Brant. Of course it is.
The wine catches in the back of my throat. I swear, if I make a big deal of it, Scarlet will call me out in front of everyone. So I do the only thing I can do and pretend I’m fine. Taking my seat, I lower my glass to the table.
Brant appears beside me a moment later, and Milton hands him a drink like they’re teammates passing the ball. Somer, Milton, Greer, Scarlet, and Dusty settle in too.
Somer lifts her glass with a cheers. “To having Regan back in town.”
I look down at the table sheepishly. I don’t love being the center of attention, especially not when Brant’s sitting right here, watching me. But I force myself to smile.
We all clink glasses. I take a large sip and lean back in my chair, just as Brant’s knee nudges mine under the table.
I immediately shuffle back in my seat to break the contact. My head is a mess as it is; having his leg touching mine will only add to the confusion.
We start eating, everyone talking over one another like a big, lively family. Milton digs in first, his focus shifting to me. “So, how’s work going? Settling in okay?”
I keep my tone casual, but there’s a weight in the air. Brant’s gaze is on me; I can feel it. I glance over and catch the corner of his mouth lifting in a way that makes my stomach flip. “The funny thing is, Brant’s my mentor.”