Page 19 of Lucky in Love
While he prided himself on being willing to go anywhere and stay in any place, it had been years since he’d been assigned anything other than the top-of-the-line, high-end stuff. Oceanor skyline views, depending on the city, and always grand state rooms or suites with full concierge service.
It dawned on him that all his lamenting was over his career and not his relationship with Chloe. What did that mean? Was it possible he loved her simply because she was literally one of the few people he knew very well? Were his feelings based more on semantics than a real, deep connection?
He thought about calling someone, but when he picked up his phone to do so, realized he didn’t have any friends. At least, none good enough to call in a crisis.
All of his relationships were situational. He’d make a friend in some country, on some trip, but the minute he left, the budding relationship, without nourishment, would wilt and eventually die. A hazard of not staying in one place very long. At thirty-five years old, he had a million acquaintances, but no actual friends.
“That’s a real kick in the junk,” he muttered. “Please let this be bottom.”
The next morning, he got up early, stopped by a pawnshop to hock the ring, and caught a cab to the airport.
He’d just settled into his seat when a tall, hulking man wearing an NYPD T-shirt sat in the seat in front of him.
Brody fought to keep his mouth shut when the man turned to the pretty woman beside him and introduced himself as Drake Humphries. Same name. NYPD. Was this Alex’s boyfriend?
At dinner the other night, Alex had said he was coming to visit this weekend. And there were only so many flights from NYC to Portsmouth. It had to be him.
Suddenly invested, Brody strained to listen in. Which wasn’t hard, because neither Drake nor the woman was subtle or quiet. Brody went from curious to angry as Drake flirted withhis seatmate the entire trip, never once mentioning he had a girlfriend.
In fact, when the woman asked why he was going to New Hampshire, he’d answered, “to hang out with an old buddy.” If thiswasAlex’s Drake, Brody didn’t think “old buddy” was a description she’d appreciate.
And if that weren’t bad enough, Drake initiated the exchange of phone numbers as they were deplaning! His flirting could have had something to do with the fact that, in the ninety-minute flight, he’d downed no less than four cocktails, growing more obnoxious with each one.
Brody noticed him stagger a little when it was his turn to head out. Luckily, he also saw him heading toward the taxi line at baggage claim. At least he wouldn’t have to share the road with him.
As he passed under the Whispering Pines welcome sign, he felt the trees take some of his burden. Yes, this would be the perfect place to lick his wounds and come up with a new life plan.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Green Valley Falls could not have looked prettier. The mid-October leaves raced each other to turn first. Every day, more brilliant golds, crimsons, and ambers made their debut, setting the trees ablaze. Not to be outdone, the weather forecast promised perfect chilly-but-sunny days for the entire weekend.
Drake would be here any second, and excitement hung in the crisp cool air. Alex had offered to pick him up at the airport, but he’d declined, saying he didn’t want to be a bother. So thoughtful.
Daisy waddled along beside her as she paced the parking lot, waiting for his taxi to arrive.
Finally, at the crunching of gravel, she perked up, but was disappointed to see it was only Brody’s rental car approaching. He slowed, acknowledged her with a nod, and turned up the road to his cabin.
For a man recently engaged, he looked pretty grim. She didn’t have time to give it a second thought though, because a minute later, Drake’s taxi arrived.
Drake got out, and she jogged to greet him.
“Hey, babe,” he said, bending to kiss her. “I’ve missed you.”
“It’s only been like ten days,” she teased. “But yeah, I missed you too.”
Drake retrieved his suitcase and paid the cab driver. The man glanced at the money, shot Drake a dirty look, and sped off in a huff.
“I don’t think he liked your tip,” she said.
“Probably not, since I didn’t.”
“Oh.” She wondered why but didn’t ask. “I always feel so bad when they have to drive all the way out to Timbuktu. I doubt they ever get a fare back.”
He blew past the topic and glanced around. “So, this is where you live, huh?”
The question was innocent enough, but there was a subtle, judgmental undertone she didn’t care for.
“Yep. This is home. Are you tired? Hungry? We’re meeting my friends for dinner later, but I’ve got snacks.”
