Chapter 3
Chapter Three
DANI
Looking up into Wade’s familiar espresso gaze, tears stung my eyes, and I worried I might burst out crying. I managed a shallow breath and swallowed, a wobbly effort to get my emotions under control.
“Dani,” Wade said, the tender rasp in his voice nearly undoing me.
I couldn’t figure out how we had gotten to this point. I had been doing so well, so spectacularly well, at avoiding this. He lifted a hand, his thumb brushing across my cheek. I hadn’t even realized a tear had fallen.
His forehead fell to mine as he murmured, “I don’t know what it is, but I’m sorry.”
His lips brushed across mine—once, twice, three times. When he straightened and raised his head, the urge to lean up and kiss him again was almost overpowering. I managed to keep myself in check, but just barely.
The tenderness contained in his gaze yanked at my heartstrings. I scrambled for purchase inside my heart and mind. There was a reason I had resisted letting myself get close to Wade. I felt his gaze searching mine, and I sensed he wanted to ask what was bothering me.
I prayed he wouldn’t. The young man Wade had once been knew me in ways no one else did. Perhaps it had been a few years, and perhaps he didn’t know me the way he once did, but he gave me the space I needed right now.
“I don’t know when,” he said softly, “but we need to talk.”
I opened my mouth to reply, only to hear footsteps coming quickly down the hallway.
“Hey Dani, do you know—?” Shay Martin appeared in the doorway, literally skidding to a stop when she saw Wade and me. “Oh, sorry!” She backed away and dashed down the hall.
Wade stepped back when she appeared, and now a foot or so separated us. It felt like miles and miles, a chasm I didn’t know how to cross.
“I have to go,” I said abruptly, before turning and almost running down the hallway.
Only when I burst through the door into my studio cabin, with cold air whooshing around me, did I realize I didn’t have my jacket and I’d left my purse behind in the office.
Good thing I lived on the premises at Stolen Hearts Lodge in one of the staff cabins. Also, a good thing I never bothered locking my door.
Just now, I couldn’t face Wade again, no matter how ridiculous it was that I left him behind in my own office.
The staff kitchen was quiet when I entered the following morning, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Managing the restaurant staff and most of the lodging for the hotel here meant my days were filled with people.
Stolen Hearts Lodge was a high-end outdoor resort tucked into the Blue Ridge Mountains in Stolen Hearts Valley, North Carolina.
The owners, Jackson and Ash Stone, a brother and sister who had grown up here on their family’s old farm had renovated it into what it was now.
Of late, Jackson was the only one around, what with Ash traipsing around the country with her boyfriend on the rodeo circuit.
I’d known Jackson and Ash in high school and jumped at the chance to take the chef position here.
When I realized how little Jackson enjoyed managing anything, I had largely taken over most of that role for the last few years.
His girlfriend, Shay, the very woman who encountered me in Wade’s arms last night, had been a huge help lately, assuming most of the management for the rescue program and veterinary clinic that were another part of this massive operation.
Recalling the moment Shay saw Wade and me last night had heat blooming on my cheeks. Although, I didn’t have to worry about Shay gossiping. She had swiftly become a good friend and also understood how painful rumors could be, more so than most.
I checked the office, laughing softly to myself when I realized Wade had closed the door for me after I bolted.
My jacket was draped haphazardly on my chair where I had left it and my purse was still on the desk.
When my eyes landed on my phone, where I dropped it on a stack of papers, I lifted it to see a text from Wade.
Closed up for ya. Next time, try to run out a little faster. ;)
Emotions welled in my chest and my lips tugged into a smile. Wade was good at getting me to laugh.
I plugged my phone in and did my usual loop, striding through the staff kitchen, and into the restaurant kitchen. At this hour, it was quiet and sparkling clean, just as expected.
The front of the restaurant was lovely this time of day, nothing more than a glimmer of sunrise above the mountains in the distance through the front windows.
The restaurant was housed in a massive old barn.
It had been renovated down to the original beams and was now an upscale, charming space.
The restaurant took up half of the bottom floor and stayed busy all the time.
We had guests traipsing in and out of the luxury rooms on the upper floor. Another nearby renovated barn was entirely for guest lodging. In addition, there were high-end studio cabins scattered throughout the nearby trees, along with some set aside for staff lodging.
The original part of the farm where the old family farmhouse was situated had a new barn built into a sloping hill. The lower floor of that barn housed horses, while the upper floor was used for administrative offices and the vet clinic, which Jackson ran.
Another barn in that area was where they ran Stolen Hearts Rescue, an animal rescue program for a hodgepodge of animals.
They rescued everything from the usual dogs and cats to pigs, horses, chickens, goats, and more.
Jackson also helped lead the first responder team for Stolen Hearts Valley Emergency Response.
I paused by the windows that looked out over the valley, smiling softly at the hint of light shimmering behind the mountains. When the sun broke through, it would fall through these windows in shafts, gleaming on the wide plank hardwood floors.
With it still mostly dark outside, I flicked the lights on, letting my gaze scan the restaurant.
The wooden tables were clean and already set with simple white cloth napkins and silverware.
The team last night had left everything as it should be for the morning shift.
I prided myself on running a tight ship, and I loved my staff. They were like family.
Satisfied, I turned and headed back into the kitchen.
The morning crew would be here within an hour, and meanwhile, I had baking to begin.
With my priorities in order, I started a pot of coffee—dark, exactly how I liked it.
After that, I went to fetch flour from the pantry, pleased Evie had already re-organized the shelves at my request and put the flour on a lower shelf.
Of course, recalling my little flour fiasco yesterday morning sparked heat inside of me. Because I couldn’t think about that without thinking about Wade’s kiss. Just my luck, one of my favorite things to do—baking—was now linked to Wade.
More specifically, flour was linked to Wade. Seeing as I couldn’t bake without flour, well, you get my point. Forcibly shoving Wade out of my mind—conveniently, I’d had years of practice at that—I returned to the staff kitchen where I did all of my baking.
With quiet surrounding me, I poured myself a cup of coffee and got to work. I was kneading a batch of dough when the door to the back hallway opened. I tensed instantly, anxious it was Wade. Here’s the fucking kicker. I was disappointed when I looked over my shoulder and saw it wasn’t him.
Shay walked through the door, knocking the snow off her boots as she stepped inside. Shaking her jacket, she hung it on the hooks by the door and glanced over at me.
“It’s snowing,” she announced.
She walked a straight line across the kitchen to the coffee pot on the counter. The counter was parallel to the large stainless-steel table running through the center of the kitchen where I was working.
“It is? It wasn’t snowing when I came in.” Pausing, I took a sip of my coffee before continuing to knead the dough.
Shay spun around with a mug in hand and walked to the table, where she slid her hips on one of the stools across from me.
Her dark-blonde hair was damp and fell around her shoulders.
Her green eyes were bright as she smiled over at me.
After taking a long swallow of her coffee, she sighed.
“Delicious. I’m always glad you make the first pot of coffee around here. ”
“How come?” I asked as I rolled the dough into an oval and dropped it in a glass bread pan rubbed with olive oil. I immediately shifted to the next ball of dough waiting for me to knead it.
“Because you always make it dark. I’m not complaining about anyone else who makes it, but yours is the best.”
I grinned. “Well, I won’t argue that point. I can’t stand half-ass coffee.”
Shay’s eyes flicked to the small bowls of ingredients beside me on the table. “What kind of bread are you making?”
“Rosemary, garlic, and feta.”
“Oh my God, that is going to be so good. When will the first loaf be out of the oven?”
“First, it needs time to rise, so it won’t be ready for three hours at least.”
Shay beamed. “Perfect. I’ll take a break and come get some fresh bread. I’ll need one by then. I’m redoing the whole website for the rescue program, and it’s a little tedious.”
“Thank God you’re doing that. It probably hasn’t been updated since Ash threw it together a few years ago.”
Shay laughed softly. “Considering that websites aren’t really Ash’s thing, she did a good job for something totally basic. And then, Jackson did nothing after that. Honestly, I should’ve gotten to it sooner, but …”
Her words trailed off when I laughed. “You’ve only had a million and one things to do. Jackson let just about everything slide on the business end before you got here. If I haven’t mentioned it lately, thank God you’re here.”
Shay shrugged lightly. “I’m just so glad to be here.”
“And, head over heels in love with Jackson, who’s into you like nobody’s business,” I teased.
A flush washed over Shay’s cheeks. I didn’t realize I had opened myself up for a return volley until she spoke. “Speaking of head over heels, what did I interrupt last night?”
I knew my own cheeks were pink, and I bit back a sigh. “Nothing,” I muttered, grabbing my coffee and draining it. Restless, I paused in my kneading and dusted my hands on my apron as I quickly rounded the table to refill my coffee cup.
When I returned, Shay was waiting patiently. “That wasn’t nothing. I might not have been around here too long, but there has always been something with you and Wade. And Jackson told me y’all actually dated in high school.”
After another gulp of coffee, I started kneading again, relieved I had something to do with my hands. “Fine. So, we did. Date in high school, that is.”
“So, did something happen again? I’ll be honest, it’s obvious you two like each other. Half the time, you’re all bitchy with him, and he dishes it right back. But, I see the way he looks at you, and I see how hard you try not to look at him.”
Although I had only gotten to know Shay well in the last year, she had become a good friend.
She’d grown up in the area like me, but I hadn’t known her too well when we were younger.
I wanted to hedge and avoid this conversation, but it didn’t seem fair.
I finally looked up and met her eyes. Although there was a teasing glint in them, it faded when she saw me.
I didn’t know what she saw reflected in my own, but she set her coffee down.
“Okay, I was just teasing. It seems like I hit on a sore subject, huh?”
I looked back down at the dough, rolling it into a tidy ball and putting it in another oiled pan. “Yeah, we have history. I’m not exactly sure what you mean about the way Wade looks at me, but it’s kind of complicated.”
Shay was quiet for a moment before she said, “People are complicated. When I saw you two last night, it was the first time I’ve ever seen you that relaxed. I mean, not to be weird, but it seems to me like you matter to each other. Perhaps a lot.”
A jolt of emotion rocked me. I viscerally remembered the sensation of being held in Wade’s strong arms last night. Wade did matter to me. A lot. Just as Shay observed. But if he ever knew why I broke up with him and what happened, he might never forgive me.
I reached for another ball of dough, hoping Shay didn’t pick up on my emotional state. “Nothing is simple when it comes to Wade and me.” When I looked across the table at her, her mouth twisted to the side, her gaze considering as she regarded me.
“So what? Look, take it from someone with a totally fucked-up and complicated past. If someone is the right person for you, don’t let that shit get in the way.”
“You don’t understand,” I protested. Even to me, my tone sounded feeble.
She took a long, slow sip of her coffee before responding. “I’m not saying I understand, not specifically. But generally speaking, I do. I don’t know what the deal is, but I think you’re getting in your own way.”