Page 5 of Love is a Roller Coaster

No reaction. “I hope you enjoy your stay. Have you been to Canyon Cove before?”

“Once.”

“Oh, nice.” A smirk appears on his lips. “How long ago?”

I want to punch his smug face. “About five years,” I reply.

“Ah.” He nods. “Anyone here you’re hoping to see?”

I gape at him, then notice that his lips are pressed together tightly and his shoulders are shaking. He’slaughing.

“You brat,” I say, a smile spreading on my lips.

He takes that as the signal that the charade is over, and he laughs out loud. “Brooke Westfield, I wondered how long you’d pretend not to recognize me.”

Myheart warms at the sound of my name on his lips. “I’m not the one who broke first,” I protest.

“True. That was all me.” He sits down on the pool chair next to me. “So, what have you been up to for the last few years?”

“Aren’t you going to get in trouble?” I ask, looking around for whoever must be his boss.

He furrows his brow. “Trouble?”

“Yeah, for sitting and talking to a guest while you’re on the job.”

His eyes soften and the side of his mouth lifts in a grin. “No. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” I take another sip of my drink and lean back in my chair. I don’t miss the way his eyes rove over my legs as I lay back. My swimsuit is modest, but I still do my best to keep myself in shape. “Well, I finished my degree.”

“What did you end up pursuing? Art?”

I shake my head, surprised he remembers. “I decided to go into communications.”

“Communications?” He furrows his brow. “What made you choose that?”

I shrug, not wanting to say that it was my parents and Landon who figured it would be the best path for me instead of getting a “useless” degree in art, specifically painting. “I finished my bachelors two years ago, and then I got my masters. So I’ve just been in school until now.”

“Do you have a job lined up?”

I feel my face flushing, and turn to look at the pool. “Uh, no.”

“Really? I’m surprised you haven’t had some job secured for the last few years.”

How do you explain to someone that your degrees ended up just being pretty certificates toplace in your husband’s study? That your only plan in life was to be the decoration on his arm?

And now that everything has exploded, you have no idea what to do with your life and the education that you didn’t care for in the first place?

Before I can answer, a scraggy teenager comes up and taps Tyler on the shoulder. “Mr. Matthews, there’s a phone call for you about the repairs. I tried to talk to them, but they said they would only speak to the owner of the hotel.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Maverick.” He stands and brushes off his shorts. “Duty calls,” he says with a wink, and turns to walk back into the hotel.

I’m sure I look like a fish, my mouth wide open. “Wait, what?” I squeal. “You’re the owner?”

He turns back to face me, that same scheming glint in his eye, and shrugs. “I’ll see you around, Brooke Westfield.”

I spendthe rest of the afternoon at the pool, mentally berating myself for assuming that Tyler was just a pool boy. But how was I supposed to know that he’s theownerof this hotel? I must have seemed so condescending. No wonder he just smirked at me when I asked if he would get in trouble. I could kick myself.

But at the same time, he has to know why this would be a shock. Five years ago, he said his life goal was to be a beach bum, to make just enough money so he could surf whenever he wanted. I never saw him as an ambitious business owner. How did he even get this position?

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