Page 12 of Relentless

“You heard me,” he lectured.

“No way,” she hurled back. Crew had made sure she was proficient enough to avoid hurting herself in case of an emergency, but that was it. Even the thought of carrying a rifle set her nerves on edge. “That’s a no from me, Sawyer,” she announced, firmly doubling down. “I’m a lover, not a killer.”

“Fine, be a grizzly snack,” he shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You need a break, Sawyer,” she replied with a deep eye roll. “All work and no play is making you unbearably dramatic.”

Tugging the reins, she clicked her tongue against her cheek and gestured to Sawyer with a cursory wave. She was counting down the days until Maeve would be home again. Her list of chores would be lighter, and things would finally return to normal. The family just didn’t feel complete without her.

Oakleigh couldn’t help but feel happy for her, though. She was confident if she had planned the honeymoon as expertly as she thought she had, Maeve wasn’t missing anything at all — except for maybe the smooth, bold taste of cowboy coffee.

Chapter 5

Bliss

Harper angled into her bathroom mirror as she meticulously applied her makeup. She usually looked forward to meeting her fabulous friends for brunch. A long, relaxing afternoon of gossip and cocktails was typically the perfect distraction from her newly mundane existence. Lately, however, it had begun to feel like a burden.

More specifically —shefelt like the burden.

It didn’t take long after the family’s public scandal to realize who had become the focal point of the brunch gossip. Harper’s thriving social circle quickly dwindled to one last loyal friend.

Good old Delia.

Though she would have never consented to being referred to asold.

They had supported each other through great successes and a few failures throughout their decades-long friendship. Although, Harper wasn’t blind to notice that even Delia seemedto be distancing herself, coming up with one excuse or another to avoid meeting in public.

Even as she got ready that morning, she steadied herself for yet another last-minute text about some pressing matter that had suddenly become a priority. There had been more times than she would admit when she had arrived at the restaurant only to receive a smarmy apologetic message from Delia that shejust had to cancel.

Harper wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that it actually hurt her feelings. The thought of disclosing that she could be so fragile was uncomfortably transparent. She would never be able to tolerate a look of pity that would inevitably flash across her best friend’s face, not after all they’d been through together.

Her phone vibrated with a notification, sending her heart into her stomach.

Delia — typing…

See you soon, friend. I can’t wait to catch up!

The flippant use of the wordfriendmade her cringe, but Harper was determined to snag every opportunity she could to crawl back into Delia Hollister’s good graces. Gone were the days when Delia would clamber to stay on Harper’s radar, feeding off every crumb of attention tossed her way. The pendulum had swung in Delia’s favor, forever tipping the scale with the old money she had married.

Harper brushed mascara on her lashes and gave her makeup one last glance in the mirror. Slipping her toes into her high heels, she ran her fingers down her toned calf muscle. Endless pilates, yoga, and a cocktail here and there kept her anxious mind at bay. Pulling her designer purse over her shoulder, she smoothed out any wayward wrinkles in her delicate flowing top. Even though Harper’s longtime trademark had been her finely tailored, brightly colored clothing, she was determined to lay low until the tide of public opinion turned in their favor. Lately, she had opted for a more muted appearance in various cool whites and tans. The moment the Davenports could schedule a positive press release, Harper had a flashy suit picked out in a shade of blue that herformerstylist had calledArctic Aqua.

Cracking her bedroom door open, she peeked down the hall before chancing her hasty exit. She was relieved that the large estate seemed quiet that morning. Her high heels clacked across the marble as she went down the stairs. If Shep was still lingering around the house, she could only hope he wouldn’t be alerted to her presence. Harper was in no mood for another sparring match. Shep knew every chink in her armor, and it seemed like he could find just about any reason to pick a fight.

She climbed into her luxurious white Mercedes. Pressing the ignition, she relished the soft leather interior.

Lounging in the backseat of a chauffeured car while scrolling through her phone was a distant memory. The Davenport’srecent financial predicaments meant she had the hassle of driving, but at least she had been left with a fewbasiccomforts.

Pressing the toe of her red-soled high heel on the gas pedal, she took Pacific Coast Highway a little faster than she should have. Her car sped alongside the cliffside overlooking the ocean, and she allowed her intrusive thoughts to edge in. With just the slightest tilt of the steering wheel, she could send her vehicle through the guardrail and over the scenic precipice.

It wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

The morbid thought gave her a sudden chill.

“Pull it together, Harper,” she thought aloud, reminding herself that she had plenty of reasons to live — brunch with her best friend being one of them.

She parked at the picturesque seaside cafe and pulled down the sun visor, giving her appearance one last glimpse in the mirror. Again, she was reminded that she was losing the battle. A cold hollowness stared back at her, driving her to keep her sunglasses on despite the dreary, overcast day on the coast.

Tucking her purse tightly under her arm, she stepped into the restaurant.

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