32. Elsa
Chapter Thirty-Two
Elsa
Should we go home?
Of course, I nodded when Haven asked that. Alaska was home. Willow Brook was home. And now, Heartfire Falls Resort in this small apartment above a barn was home.
Haven felt like home. I was falling. So hard and fast. For a person and a place. I was in way too deep.
I’d always felt a little bit out of step with everyone. For most of my life, I’d wanted nothing more than to feel like I belonged somewhere. Haven and Heartfire Falls gave me that feeling.
I fell asleep in Haven’s arms that night after he took me roughly in our bed. Being with him felt so good it almost frightened me. The goodness felt as fragile as spun sugar.
The next evening, Chloe walked into the kitchen where we were eating and announced, “Some guy is here looking for Elsa.”
I should have known it would all blow apart. The goodness cracked on the edges. I’d always known it had to be too good to be true.
“Huh? Who?” I asked.
“He says his name is Brad,” Chloe replied.
A ball of ice and dread formed in my stomach instantly. I was relieved Haven was running late and blessedly not present for this.
“I don’t like the name Brad,” Tommy announced. He took his last bite of cereal, and the sound of his spoon dropping against the edge of the bowl clattered on my unsettled nerves.
“What should I tell him?” Chloe asked, oblivious to my state.
I swallowed. “I’ll deal with it.”
Jude happened to be standing by the doorway, and his eyes met mine. “You okay?” he asked as I walked by.
“Fine,” I said, knowing my tone was sharp. I took a shaky breath as I walked through the resort to the main entrance, all the while wondering how the hell Brad had found me.
I wasn’t sure as I approached if Chloe had left him waiting on the porch. I kind of hoped she had. When I discovered the door was closed and no one was waiting in the entryway, I let out a tiny sigh of relief.
I was over Brad.
You are over Brad.
Great, now we’re talking to ourselves in the third person. Even worse, we’re referring to ourselves like we’re a split personality or something.
I mentally chastised myself. I was over Brad, but I was still disappointed in myself. Deeply embarrassed because he’d played me for a fool, and it hadn’t even taken much effort on his part. I knew this. My track record with men was so pathetic.
After we moved away from Willow Brook during high school, I’d been that foolish young girl who wanted to fall in love and was so desperate to belong. Even though my parents’ marriage had actually been a decent example—my dad had adored my mom—the world wasn’t all that kind to girls like me.
I’d been insecure and felt out of place everywhere I went. All of that had led to a string of stupid choices when it came to men. These choices culminated in Brad, the big boss of assholes in my life.
My hands were damp from nervousness and anxiety. I brushed them over the front of my jeans, cleared my throat, and swung the door open. I didn’t even give Brad a chance to think he could come in.
I stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind me. “Hi, Brad.” My voice was a little loud, a little forced.
He tipped his head to the side, his lips curling in a slow smile. That smile once would have gotten to me. Now, it just made me feel angry.
“Elsa, Elsa, Elsa,” he said, using what I thought of as his fake charming voice.
I crossed my arms. “What is it, Brad?”
“Babe, I missed you.” His voice was low, cajoling.
I took a minute to study him. The man was handsome. He had brown hair shot through with gold—not quite blond, but almost. He also had blue eyes, and he was really good at making them look wide and innocent, like he did now.
Haven’s blue eyes were better. I silently scoffed. “Brad, what do you want?”
I didn’t even give in to the urge to pointedly tell him that I didn’t miss him.
Because I didn’t. It was so not fun to be involved with someone who constantly elicited a sense of insecurity.
Brad had been that guy—handsome, intelligent, had a good job.
He had it together on the surface yet had played me like the foolish fiddle I was.
For better or worse, my abandonment issues—say, my dad dying and leaving us nearly broke—made me crave stability in an unhealthy way. Grief was messy most of the time.
Brad’s gaze sobered, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, shifting from the guy who was worried about me and missed me to looking a little contrite. “I mean it, Elsa. I missed you.”
I tightened my arms in front of my chest. “You didn’t miss me, Brad. What do you want? I don’t have anything you want, so I have no idea why you’re here and why you even chased me down.”
Shocker of all shockers, he decided to play it straight. “I’ll be honest. I heard you inherited that property here and?—”
“What do you need with that property?” I cut in.
“Collateral.”
“Collateral?” I sputtered. All that hurt and foolishness spun like an angry, painful storm in my chest.
“Fuck off, Brad. Just leave.” I turned to go just as Brad reached for my arm, his hand closing around the spot above my elbow a little too tightly. I sensed motion just out of the corner of my eye.
I glanced over to see Haven practically running as he dashed up onto the steps. “Get your fucking hands off her,” he nearly growled.
Brad had already dropped his hand because I’d yanked my elbow away.
“Who the fuck are you?” Brad muttered. He was used to being in control and calling the shots.
“I own this place, and I’m telling you right now to get the hell off this property.” Haven met my gaze. “Who is this?”
“Brad, my ex. He’s an asshole. He wants my property. For collateral,” I said, my tone dry.
“Jesus, Elsa. I’m not that bad,” Brad protested.
I felt on the verge of tears. Not because I was sad about Brad. But his presence and being so blunt about the property—that was how little he thought of me. I hated how stupid I felt.
“Get the hell out of here,” Haven spoke to Brad dismissively.
When I glanced between the men, the contrast couldn’t have been more stark.
While Brad was handsome, it was polished and calculated.
Haven was everything he wasn’t. Brad used an attitude and superficial confidence to make it seem as if he was assured.
Haven was the real deal. He was in shape, not because he worked out, but because his life demanded it.
His strength was rugged and assured because his life demanded that too.
He fought fires. He led hikes through the wilderness.
He was all rugged and pure man. None of it an affectation. All of it deeply real.
Even in this brief interaction, it was clear that Brad knew there was no sense in trying to make it seem like anything else. It was like watching two male dogs circle each other, and Brad ran off with his tail between his legs. He held his hands up, taking a step back. “Whoa, buddy. Back off.”
Haven eyed him steadily. I could practically hear a silent growl in his throat. “I don’t know what the fuck you want, but?—”
Then Brad tried to go and be stupid. “Don’t overdo it, tough guy.”
Haven didn’t even move. “I’m a lawyer. I’ll bury you in lawsuits if you don’t get off my property right now.”
I often forgot that detail about Haven. He didn’t talk about it much.
Brad was quiet for a few beats. Haven moved, taking one step in his direction. Brad blanched. “Calm the fuck down, man. I’m out of here.”
I didn’t realize my eyes were welling up with tears until Brad was climbing into his car, and Haven turned to face me.
“Sweetheart, what’s going on?”
I blinked. I felt like even more of an idiot because I should have handled this myself. I didn’t need some guy swooping in to straighten it all out for me. Yet it only made me love Haven more. He had no idea what a mess I was.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, and I couldn’t. All I could do was turn, shake my head, and tighten my arms around my waist. “I have to go.”
“Elsa, wait!” Haven called as I turned.