Chapter 20
TWENTY
F ord
The resort sprawls out in front of us, all timber beams and glass, tucked into the mountains, Whistler’s ski hills loom large above the hotel, snow glistening under the spring sun.
The village is packed with tourists and locals alike, everyone eager to get a few last runs in before the season comes to a close.
I kill the engine in front of valet and glance over at Landyn. She’s staring out the windshield, absentmindedly twisting the rings on her fingers, probably not even realizing she’s doing it.
The drive up together was good. Better than good.
She was soft and open, letting me see pieces of her she’s had guarded since she came back to town.
It’s the closest I’ve felt to her in a very long time.
But now that we’re here, I can sense the walls being rebuilt, protecting the careful space that exists between who we were then and who we are now.
“You ready?” I ask, hoping to draw her back to me.
“Always.” She flashes me a quick smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes .
We get out of the car, and I hand the keys to the bellman , then we grab our bags from the backseat. Hers is small. Practical. That was always her—efficient, never trying to impress anyone.
The lobby is sleek but warm, all wood tones and floor-to-ceiling windows.
The hum of quiet conversations reverberates off the stone floors as people move around us.
We navigate through the room full of tourists—some still in robes from their spa treatments—conference guests, families, people with less intense schedules and less complicated backstories.
At the front desk, the concierge smiles broadly and welcomes us to the hotel.
“We’re here for the Sustainability Summit. Winters, Cove Group,” I say, handing over my ID.
“Of course, Mr. Winters. We have two rooms reserved under your name. Side by side, as requested.”
I glance at Landyn. Her mouth twitches, but she doesn’t look at me. The concierge slides two key cards across the counter and Landyn takes both, handing one to me. When I take it, my fingers brush hers by accident—or maybe not. Either way, the jolt it sends through me is very real.
“This resort is beautiful,” she says as we head toward the elevators.
“Not just the resort,” I say, before I can stop myself. My eyes meet hers. She looks away, but she doesn’t call me on it.
We step into the elevator, alone now. The doors close with a soft thud. The tension? Not so soft.
“Let me guess,” she says, glancing up at me. “You’re thinking about schedules and panels and investor meetings.”
I smirk. “I’m thinking you’re trying very hard to keep this professional.”
“That’s because it is professional. ”
“Right,” I say, leaning back against the wall. “That’s why you’ve been twisting your rings since we pulled into the hotel driveway.”
She glares at me, but she doesn’t deny it. When the doors open, we step into the hallway.
Room 312. Room 314.
It’s probably not a good idea. It’s probably far too close, considering the attraction I’m feeling towards her, but at the same time, it’s nowhere near close enough. We stop at her door.
“Dinner’s with the panel hosts tonight. Will that be enough time to do what you need to do?”
“It will be fine,” she says, sliding the key into the lock. But before she goes inside, she looks up at me.
“Ford.”
“Yeah?”
“I can help you. Help Cove. I want to. Don’t go easy on me just because we have history.”
“I never planned to,” I tell her, meaning every damn word.
For a second, she just watches me. Then the corner of her mouth curves, a flash of that familiar fire sparking behind her eyes.
She turns, her door clicking shut behind her, and I’m left standing here wondering how the hell I’m supposed to keep this professional when all I want to do is follow her into her hotel room.
With a sigh, I walk the few steps to my door. Inside my own room, I drop my bag on the chair in the corner and then sit on the bed, hyper-aware of the fact that Landyn is just feet away. The wall between us doesn’t do a damn thing to shut her out of my head.
The room’s nice. High-end finishing, impressive view, the kind of understated luxury I usually appreciate. Tonight, it barely registers because all I can think about is the way she said it. Don’t go easy on me just because we have history.
I tug my jacket off and run a hand through my hair. The mirror above the dresser catches my reflection. Same face. Same sharp edges. But something in my expression feels…unsettled. It’s been a long time since someone’s thrown me this far off balance
I spend the afternoon working, stopping only to order a late lunch from room service.
Before I know it, it’s 5 p.m., time to get ready for this evening’s dinner.
I take off my shirt, trading it for a clean black one, rolling the sleeves up to my forearms. In the bathroom, I splash some cool water on my face and take a few calming breaths.
Something about seeing her tonight—out of the office, away from Deep Cove—feels like crossing a line we’ve been dancing around since she came back.
I teased her earlier about keeping this trip professional, but the truth is I’m the one who needs that reminder. Because I know what I want. I want more.
My phone buzzes on the counter beside me with a meeting reminder, but it barely cuts through the noise in my head. If Landyn keeps looking at me like she did in the elevator—like part of her still remembers what it felt like to be mine—then these next three days are going to be hell.
A slow, torturous, tempting kind of hell.
My phone buzzes again and this time I pick it up, noticing that there’s a message from my brother waiting for me.
Jesse: So… how’s the romantic retreat going?
Me: It’s not a retreat. It’s business.
Jesse: Right. Funny how that business required you and Landyn to disappear into the mountains together for two nights.
I stare at the screen for a bit, thumbs hovering.
Me: You’re enjoying this too much.
Jesse: I’m guessing not half as much as you are. Tell her I say hi.
Jaw tight, I lock my phone and then check the time. Dinner is in 15 minutes, which gives me plenty of time to pull myself together. Or at least to try.
Tucked into the Whistler resort, the restaurant is sleek, modern and expensive—a perfect setting for the kind of people Cove needs to impress tonight.
The warmth of the gleaming hardwood floors is offset by deep, dark blue walls.
Velvet chairs line the marble-topped bar, its collection of amber-filled bottles catching the light of the scattered candles that cast a soft, golden glow throughout the space. It’s a stunning room.
And it all fades to nothing when I see her.
Landyn is standing a few feet from the bar, flipping through the menu.
Her knee-length fitted, emerald green dress is simple, elegant, devastating.
Her hair’s pulled back off her face into a slick bun at the nape of her neck.
She doesn’t see me yet, and that might be a good thing.
It gives me a second to get my head on straight .
I approach slowly, stopping just beside her, close enough to inhale the scent of her perfume. “You’re early,” I say.
She glances up, a small smile tugging at her lips. “So are you.”
“I like to be prepared.”
“I like to eat,” she replies, holding up the menu. “Priorities.”
God, I missed this. The way she could throw a jab with a smile. The way she never let me get too comfortable.
“Stunning, June,” my eyes move over her. A faint blush creeps up her cheeks.
“Come on,” I say, nodding toward the table where our hosts are gathering. “Let’s go charm the hell out of them.”
We settle into the table—six of us in total.
Investors, panel organizers, and Cove’s newest PR lead.
Landyn slides effortlessly into the conversation.
Sharp, poised, asking the right questions, listening to every word that’s said.
She makes it look easy, but I knew she would.
What surprises me is the way she glances at me sometimes, quick flicks of her eyes, like she’s checking to see if I’m paying attention.
I am. I always am.
“So,” one of the panel hosts, an energetic woman named Natasha, leans forward, wine glass in hand. “Cove’s making big moves with this new sustainability initiative. Do you think it will help mitigate the negative stories in the press?”
Before I can answer, Landyn speaks up. “Responsibility,” she says smoothly.
“It’s not just about innovation—it’s about integrity.
The backlash in the press is baseless, and we fully intend to prove just how wrong they are.
Cove was built on function and quality, but most importantly we evolve with our community’s values. ”
I could kiss her for that .
“Exactly,” I add, giving a nod. “We’re not interested in empty gestures. This isn’t a pivot. It’s a course correction.”
The conversation flows easily after that. They’re buying it. No—believing it. Because Landyn knows how to tell a story people want to be part of.
Beneath the surface, though, there’s still that current pulling at both of us.
Her foot brushes mine under the table. Maybe it’s accidental. Maybe not. I look at her. She doesn’t flinch. I feel my mouth twitch.
By the time dessert comes, I’ve answered half a dozen questions, secured two follow-up meetings, and just barely managed to keep my focus on business.
When we stand to leave, Landyn thanks the others, her smile professional but warm, then we step out into the cool night air, away from the crowd. We walk slowly through the darkened village, the muffled sounds of laughter and music escaping from the restaurants that line the central square.
“Well?” she asks, stopping to look at me. “How’d I do?”
“You know exactly how you did.”
She grins, and damn if it doesn’t hit me square in the chest.
“I told you not to go easy on me,” she says, eyes narrowing.
“I’m not,” I promise. “Not even close.”