Couples Like Us Read online

  He’d gotten it all wrong and invested his energy and his hopes in a business that, while it might bring him monetary rewards and recognition, would not replace the woman he’d planned to marry. She was beautiful, kind, filled with love, and so easily wounded. He should have seen that, should have made sure she knew how much he cared. How much he wanted her by his side. But he hadn’t, not until the day she told him she’d found someone who remembered she took one teaspoon of sugar in her coffee and loved biscotti.

  How sad was that?

  He’d been so determined to garner the lifestyle she’d been born into that he’d neglected her. That would be a loss he’d regret for a long time, maybe forever.

  And moving forward? How was he supposed to do that? While Reunion Gap was full of females, some eligible, some not, they weren’t her. None of them were. Still, he dated a few of the eligible ones until the hints started with words like long-term and going somewhere or relationship. That’s when he broke it off. Why pretend any of them would ever own his heart?

  Jameson shut down thoughts of his past mistakes, delivered two liqueurs to a couple in a corner booth, and headed back to the bar. That’s when he spotted her. Tall, dark-haired, sophisticated. Even from several yards away, he could tell she was beautiful. He watched as she removed her white coat—designer label, no doubt—and slid onto the barstool, set her handbag on the stool next to her. High-end had just blown into Reunion Gap and Jameson couldn’t help but wonder who she was here to see. And why? He’d guess one of the Alexanders. Tate Alexander would be the logical guess, but last he’d heard the guy preferred life wherever his old man wasn’t. Maybe it was the other brother, Neal, and if it were, the woman was in for a reckless ride.

  Or maybe she’d come to see the old man himself. Harrison Alexander, the tycoon who knew all about money and nothing about family, other than how to demean and dominate them. Rumor had it, his mistresses were all young, beautiful, and brunette. Jameson worked his way back to the bar, his gaze on the woman. Slender shoulders, long legs, graceful hands. Who was she? She glanced up, raised a brow when she caught him watching her in the mirror over the bar.

  Oh, she was a cool one. He forced a smile, eased behind the bar, and placed his hands on the mahogany countertop. The woman was definitely big city—he could tell by the clothes and the attitude—and she hadn’t spoken a single word yet. Didn’t need to, because Jameson had spent too many years trying to fit in with the “haves” when he’d been a “have not.” His almost-fiancée hadn’t minded that he’d come from nothing, but that’s because she had no idea what that meant. He stared into the woman’s hazel eyes, kept his expression bland. “Hi. Can I get you something?”

  Her full lips hovered between a frown and a polite smile. “Cabernet sauvignon?” She asked the question like she thought he wouldn’t have it.

  “Sure. Coming right up.” He poured a glass, set it in front of her. “There you go.”

  “Thank you.” She shifted on her stool, sat up straight, and sipped.

  Jameson nodded, leaned against the counter, and said in a casual voice, “What brings you to Reunion Gap?”

  “A friend suggested it.” She took another sip of wine. “She said it was the perfect place to relax and regroup.”

  The left side of her jaw twitched and her voice tightened as though the recollection weren’t a pleasant or welcome one. “Well, your friend’s right about that. Not much going on here to distract you.” His gaze landed on the curve of her neck, bounced to her lips, settled on her eyes. He cleared his throat, thrust out a hand. “Jameson Price.”

  She extended a slender hand. “Nicki Gallagher.”

  The firm grip told him she navigated in a man’s world and didn’t mind it one bit. He released her hand, studied her. “I know you’re a city girl, but I’m trying to determine the city.” He rubbed his jaw, took in the royal blue angora sweater. “I hear a bit of small-town Midwest in your voice.” He might as well have said she spoke gibberish from the scowl she gave him.

  “I am Midwest, but I assure you, small-town is not part of the equation.”

  “Hmm.” He knew what he heard and it was small-town Midwest, but if she wanted to deny it, who was he to call her on it? “So, where are you from?” No more guesses from him. If she wanted to tell him, fine. If she wanted to make up a story, that was fine, too.

  “Chicago.”

  Chicago? “Ah, Chicago.” Yeah, he wished she’d said any city but the one that held too many memories for him—not all of them good. “And now you’re in Reunion Gap to relax?”

  She nodded and her dark hair shimmered under the soft lights. “I am.” Big sigh. “I’m here until New Year’s.”

  Nicki Gallagher didn’t sound one bit pleased about it. In fact, she made it sound like a punishment. “Are you visiting anyone in particular?” Like one of the Alexanders?

  “No. I don’t know anybody in this town.” One more big sigh. “Circumstances landed me here.”

  “Ah, circumstances.” What the hell did that mean?

  “Exactly.”

  Jameson shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She eyed him as though trying to decide how much she wanted to share. “I was sent on a mandatory vacation. Can you imagine?” She took a healthy sip of wine. “Do you think I’d choose to leave Chicago for a place that probably doesn’t have a decent restaurant or a coffee shop? Ugh. December is never going to be over.”

  He raised a brow. “You do realize this is a restaurant, right?”

  “Oh.” A dull red crept up her neck, splattered her cheeks. “Nothing personal. I’m just saying there’s no way the food in this town can compare to Chicago’s.” She finished her wine, inched the glass toward him. “May I have another?”

  He couldn’t resist. “You sure the wine’s acceptable? I mean, compared to Chicago standards, you might find it lacking.”

  She narrowed her gaze on him. “It’s actually quite good.”

  Her words and expression said this surprised her. Yeah, well, if she knew Jameson’s background and his history with Chicago, she might not be so surprised. “You might enjoy the food, too. In Reunion Gap, we don’t refer to it as cuisine and we don’t use terms like gastropubs or small plates. No big-name reviewers either, unless you count family giving a dish the thumbs up or down.”

  “Family doesn’t count.”

  He refilled her glass, slid it toward her. “Family always counts.” He wasn’t talking about whether his mother and sisters liked or disliked his culinary choices. Nope. He was talking about the bonds and commitment they showed toward each other, the love and support that never failed, no matter what. He’d needed them when he ditched Chicago and headed back to Reunion Gap. It had taken a while to settle in, let the wounds heal, but he’d done it. And if he hadn’t had his family beside him, the process would have been a lot more difficult.

  “If you say so.” She sipped her wine, looked away.

  Something in her words told him she didn’t agree, which meant she either didn’t have family or had a bad experience that hardened her views. “Guess it’s all about perspective and experience.”

  “Right.” She traced the stem of her wine glass, let out a long sigh. “My friend said this was the perfect place for a vacation, and she’d be here if she could, but …”

  “But you’re wondering how that could possibly be true?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Meredith has traveled enough to know what constitutes the perfect vacation spot, but she could be speaking from a sentimental viewpoint since she’s from here.”

  “Meredith?” His gaze narrowed on her. “You wouldn’t be talking about Meredith Alexander, would you?”

  Her face lit up and she smiled, a real smile that made her even more beautiful. “Yes, Meredith Alexander.” Pause. “She’s my friend. Do you know her?”

  “Everybody knows the Alexanders.” He didn’t bother to add and most wished they didn’t. Meredith and her brother, Tate, we
re the decent ones in the family, even if they had too much money and a father who treated them like possessions.

  “Yes, well, she said she’d be here, if she could.”

  “Meaning, if her old man wasn’t.”

  That comment must have surprised her because her eyes grew wide and when she spoke, her words tumbled out, “That’s pretty much what she said, but I didn’t realize it would be common knowledge.”

  “Of course it is.” He eyed her. “You can’t keep that kind of animosity between four walls forever. Eventually, it spills out, and when it does, it’s not pretty.”

  “I think I would rather try to keep it contained.” She frowned and her brows pinched together. “I don’t exactly like the idea of being the subject of everyone’s dinner conversation.”

  “Nobody likes it,” he said, “but sooner or letter, we all get a turn.”

  Chapter 3

  The Peace & Harmony Inn had a honeymoon suite with a bed strewn with rose petals. Now that was creative and could be a real moneymaker. Nicki pictured the petal-covered bed on the glossy pages of a magazine. There were so many ways you could approach the marketing, but the big one would be romance-meets-nostalgia.

  Jennifer Merrick wasn’t interested, and while Nicki enjoyed a breakfast of waffles and strawberries the next morning, the proprietor told her why she didn’t believe in monetizing people’s experiences. “Everything shouldn’t have a price tag. Some things should be gifted with no expectation.” She paused, her words bursting with emotion. “For the pure act of giving and the desire to bring joy.”

  “Is that why you do it? For the giving and the joy?”

  The woman’s face paled. “It’s part of the reason.” She traced the rim of her coffee cup, let out a soft sigh. “But the main reason is that it brings back memories from years ago.” Pause. “There was another bed-and-breakfast that covered the bed in the honeymoon suite with roses…I lived there, and I used to place the roses on the comforter…with great care and such gentleness…” Her voice wobbled, cracked. “I loved those days.” She cleared her throat and lifted her coffee mug. “But that was a lifetime ago.”

  There was real pain in the woman’s voice. Something had happened and whatever it was had changed Jennifer Merrick’s life; Nicki could tell from the way she talked about the bed-and-breakfast. She sipped her coffee, thought about Jennifer and her sadness. How was it that she’d gotten involved in this woman’s emotional situation and she’d been in town less than twenty-four hours? Is this what happened when a person didn’t try to fight life or the feelings that went with it? If it was, could she deal with it? Did she want to?

  “We’re going to get five to six inches of snow later today,” Jennifer said, pulling Nicki from her thoughts. “If you haven’t strolled around town, you really should. It’s like a holiday postcard with the Christmas tree in the center of town and twinkle lights in all the windows.” She paused, and her next words hinted that she’d figured out Nicki had known her own share of sadness. “Even if you aren’t a big believer in Christmas, downtown is something to see.” Her voice dipped, filled with wonder. “It’s magical, and who knows, maybe it will make a believer out of you.”

  Nicki remembered the proprietor’s words a few hours later as she stood in front of the massive Christmas tree and admired the twinkle lights and decorations hanging from the limbs. There must be hundreds and hundreds of decorations: ornaments, twinkle lights, ropes of garland, and a brilliant star on top of the tree! She stood back, lifted her face, and closed her eyes. Snowflakes landed on her cheeks, her chin, her nose… Pure. Clean. Perfect. Nicki opened her mouth and let the snowflakes melt on her tongue.

  “Bet you don’t do that in Chicago.”

  She blinked her eyes open and caught the bartender from last night watching her. Tall, muscular, strong jaw, whiskey-colored eyes. He’d said his name was Jameson. Nicki smiled and said, “Reunion Gap is a long way from Chicago.” But right now, she liked that city life was hundreds of miles away. Had she ever seen a more majestic Christmas tree? Even the Christmas music that swirled around the street didn’t bother her.

  Not like it did in Chicago.

  Now why was that?

  Was it because she’d taken a deep breath and refocused her energies on something other than achievement and corporate-ladder climbing?

  Maybe it was because she’d let down her guard for a few seconds…

  “I called the Peace & Harmony, and Jennifer told me you’d gone exploring.”

  Nicki laughed and held out her gloved hands. “I have been exploring and look, I didn’t buy a thing! In Chicago, exploring means bargain hunting.” She shook her head and said, “This has got to be a first.”

  Jameson’s lips twitched like he wanted to smile. “Yeah, Chicago has a way of doing that to a person.”

  “Have you been there?”

  The almost-smile faded and he shrugged. “A time or two. Look, The Oak Table’s serving veal Oscar tonight and I’d like you to try it. It’s not upscale Chicago, but it’s a favorite in town.” He held her gaze. “My treat. I’m working until 7:00. How about 7:15?”

  Was this like a date?

  Did she want it to be?

  She couldn’t get involved with a man she met on vacation. Certainly not. What was the point? Nicki opened her mouth to offer a polite refusal, but the words that fell out were quite different. In fact, they were the exact opposite. “I’d love to.”

  Snow fell until late afternoon, leaving a predicted five inches of white stuff. Jennifer worried about Nicki driving and suggested she reschedule the dinner date, as she called it.

  I’m fine. A little snow never stopped me from getting where I wanted to go.

  Ah. So, you’re looking forward to the dinner?

  Nicki had shrugged. I’m looking forward to the veal Oscar, which I hear is a favorite.

  Jennifer’s laugh fell between them. There’s more than just a veal dish that’s a town favorite in that place.

  Meaning Jameson. The man was probably the favorite there, with the veal a distant second. Nicki took her time dressing, chose a burgundy silk blouse, black slacks, and high-heeled boots. The diamond pendant and matching studs completed the simple yet elegant look. One more glance in the mirror and she slipped into her coat and grabbed her handbag

  Bye, Jennifer. See you later.

  Like in the morning? Don’t rush home if a better opportunity presents itself.

  It’s a dinner, not a sleepover.

  Sleepovers usually start out with dinner.

  Not this one.

  We’ll see. She’d smiled and waved goodbye. Be careful driving.

  Always.

  The roads were more slippery than she’d expected and it took an extra ten minutes to reach The Oak Table. She didn’t drive much in Chicago, and some wondered why she still had a car. It wasn’t about the car; it was about the independence that came with knowing she could go wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted, without depending on anyone else. That was worth the monthly charge for the parking space. Nicki parked her car and made her way to the front door.

  Jameson spotted her as soon as she walked in. He held up a hand, then turned to one of the waiters who escorted her to a dimly lit booth in the back of the restaurant. Despite the recent snow and the fact that it was midweek, the place was crowded. Nicki sat back and let the ambiance of the place settle over her: the large, rough-hewn timbers, the fireplace crackling several yards away, the wrought-iron sconces on the walls and matching lights dangling over the tables. The place smelled and spoke of comfort and one look at Jameson Price laughing with a customer while he mixed a drink told her the man was very much at home with this place.

  Nicki accepted the wine the waiter brought and had just begun to peruse the menu when Jameson slid into the seat across from her. The navy V-neck sweater and jeans might look too casual on some men, but not this one. Perfect and appealing came to mind.

  Jameson set his glass of wine on the table and smile
d. “It’s not an extensive menu, but it’s good.”

  She lifted a brow, hid a smile. “Says the bartender who’s sampled the entire menu.”

  He laughed. “Exactly.” He glanced at the menu, rubbed his jaw and said in a matter-of-fact manner, “You don’t want to miss out on the veal, but if you’re not in the mood, the prime rib and Chilean sea bass are big hits, too. And the sides are more than enough for two people.”

  Nicki closed the menu. “I’ll have the special. What do you think of the sautéed spinach with bacon and garlic?”

  He grinned. “One of my personal favorites.”

  “Well, then. I’m sold.” Once the waiter took their orders, Nicki asked the question she’d been wondering since she met him. “How long have you been bartending?” Pause. “Do you…do anything else?”

  “Ah. You mean do I have another job to supplement my income?”

  Yes, that was exactly what she meant. Darn, but had she really been that obvious? Nicki cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business and I shouldn’t—”

  “I own this place.”

  “Oh.” She stared at him, waited to hear more, and when he remained silent, she said, “Well, you could have told me that last night and saved me from embarrassing myself.”

  “I guess I could have.” Jameson leaned against the booth, sipped his wine, and said, “Maybe next time, you shouldn’t draw conclusions so fast. Now I’ve got a few questions for you. Why are you here all alone? No boyfriend?” His gaze slid to her left hand. “No husband?”

  She shook her head. “Relationships have always been too complicated and too much of a hassle.”

  “Really? The women I know have the opposite opinion.”

  Nicki shrugged. “Maybe you don’t know the right kind of women.”

  “You may be on to something.” He saluted her with his wine glass. “Still, you don’t buy into that whole love and happily-ever-after story?”