Loe raamatut: «Snowed in with Her Ex»

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

“I’m sorry.” Briana Harper interrupted her business partner in the middle of their weekly meeting. “Did you just say we’ve booked the Missy Kline and Ian Lawson wedding? The Missy Kline and Ian Lawson?”

Natalie, the wedding planner and office manager, looked up from her tablet, her brow furrowing in mild irritation at Bree breaking her flow. “Yes,” she said with a heavy sigh. “What’s the big deal with that? We have plenty of celebrity weddings.”

Bree shook her head and returned to tapping absently at her own tablet. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.” That wasn’t all, but she wasn’t going to tell her best friends and business partners that. One of the most important rules at From This Moment was to remain professional at all times. It didn’t matter if the ring bearer knocked over the wedding cake, a guest spoke up during the dreaded “if anyone has any reason why these two should not be wed” moment or the groom was your ex-boyfriend. So Bree kept her mouth shut.

“They’re all over the magazine covers at the grocery store checkout lines,” Gretchen added. “I don’t know how you could’ve missed it. Apparently she’s pregnant, too.”

“I guess I’ve been eating too much takeout,” Bree muttered. Pregnant. The bare-midriff pop queen was going to have Ian’s baby. For some reason that bothered her. A lot. How could she have missed this news?

Natalie flung her dark brown hair over her shoulder and continued on with her Monday morning briefing. When Natalie was focused on the job, there was no room for joking around or unnecessary drama.

Each Monday, the four owners of From This Moment met to discuss new clients, business issues and the previous weekend’s wedding.

From This Moment was a one-stop wedding venue that catered to the discriminating Nashville bride. Anybody who was anybody got married at their facility. In just six short years, college friends Natalie, Amelia, Gretchen and Bree had gone from being nobodies with a dream to members of the Nashville business elite.

Together, they were a powerhouse of wedding perfection. If they couldn’t do it, they knew someone who could. Anything the bridal couple wanted, they made it happen. No request was too complex, and they built a reputation on that. That, and a policy of strict confidentiality.

Natalie was right; they did have their fair share of celebrities marry here. Missy Kline was just one more star they could add to their roster of famous clients, but Bree couldn’t care less about her. She was far more interested in Missy’s groom—Nashville music producer and owner of SpinTrax Records, Ian Lawson.

Once upon a time, Ian had been the center of Bree’s universe. They had met as freshmen at Belmont University in Nashville and for more than a year, they had been inseparable. He had been the sexy coffee shop musician with the long hair in his sleepy eyes and the smile that could charm her panties off. When he’d played his guitar and sang to her, all was right in the world. And then he had stopped playing and everything went wrong.

“Bree?”

Bree’s head snapped up. The other three ladies were looking at her. She’d obviously missed something. “Yes?”

“I said,” Natalie repeated, “will you be able to do the engagement portraits this Thursday and still be back in time to cover the rehearsal dinner for the Conner wedding on Friday?”

Now it was Bree’s turn to frown. “Why wouldn’t I be back in time? It only takes a couple hours for an engagement shoot.”

“The bride wants to do the photo shoot at the groom’s cabin in Gatlinburg.” Amelia repeated the detail Bree had missed.

“That should be fine.”

“Okay, good.” Natalie made a note. “I’ll get you the address of the cabin. Plan to arrive around noon.”

That was that. Once Natalie noted something in her tablet, it was virtually signed in blood. There was no getting out of it now. Bree would finally come face-to-face with the man who had haunted her thoughts and dreams for the past nine years.

And his new bride.

One

“This is not good.”

As though the universe had heard Ian’s words, the tires on his Cadillac Escalade skidded on a patch of ice. He corrected the truck’s erratic movement and steered it back into the lane and away from the deep ditch on the side of the road. Gripping the leather steering wheel with white-knuckled tension, he cursed and silently thanked his assistant for making sure he left first thing this morning. Any later and he might not have made it.

The snowflakes were growing increasingly difficult to see through and were collecting along the side of the road. On the freeway from Nashville toward Gatlinburg, the weather had changed from rain to sleet to an icy slush. Now, in the heart of the Smoky Mountains, it was one hundred percent snow.

And a lot of it.

At the bottom of the hill that led to his mountainside community, he backed up slightly, put his SUV into a lower gear and started accelerating up the incline. Slow and steady, he made it up and around the long, winding curve to his driveway at the very top, then pulled into the garage.

Ian grabbed his bag from the passenger’s seat and stepped out. He walked to the door to his cabin, pushed a button and watched the snow continue to fall until the garage door closed and blocked out the inclement weather he hadn’t planned for.

He should’ve known this would happen. It was just one more thing in a string of screwups that had plagued his life the past few months. He knew that he should think of them as happy accidents, but he couldn’t help but feel trapped by his circumstances. This weather was no exception.

Ian never came to the mountains in January or February. The weather was always too unpredictable this time of year. Living at the top of a mountain was luxurious and the view was incredible, but you could only benefit from it if you could get up there. He wouldn’t be here now except that his fiancée, Missy, had insisted they take their engagement photos at the mountain house. Against his better judgment, he’d agreed.

Ian set his bag on the granite countertop and glanced out the bay window to the valley below him. It was a sea of white out there. At this rate, the few inches on the ground would easily reach half a foot or more. “No accumulation of note.” He snorted after mimicking what the man on the news had said last night. Missy had left from Atlanta, so maybe the weather was better from the south, but likely it wasn’t. He was pretty sure Missy wouldn’t be able to make it up the mountain in her little Jaguar.

And the photographer... Who knew what kind of car he or she would be driving. If this storm had surprised him, it had probably surprised everyone.

Thank goodness he’d had the cabin stocked with supplies. Ian walked around the kitchen, opening the cabinets and the refrigerator to inspect the contents. There was enough to feed them for several days, as requested. His caretakers were a married couple who lived down the hill. They kept the grounds tidy and the cabin clean and well maintained. Before he made a trip to the house, he would give Rick and Patty a list of food and supplies and they would see to it that everything was there.

Sometimes Patty would even do a little extra to welcome Ian home. Today there was a bottle of champagne chilling in the refrigerator door and a pair of flutes sitting on the counter by a vase of fresh flowers. Neither had been on his list, so that was Patty’s way of congratulating him and his new fiancée on their engagement.

She must have somehow missed the announcement that Missy was eight weeks pregnant. Missy had gushed about their newly forming family to anyone who would listen—from her two million Facebook fans to the journalist at some tabloid magazine. Ian didn’t think there was a person left in the United States who didn’t know about his personal business.

They would wed in March at a venue in Nashville that Missy had chosen. Ian had not been involved with the details. He had told himself, and Missy, that he was busy with work so she could plan whatever she liked. It was her big day, after all. The truth was that he was still coming to terms with all the new developments in his life. But he was hoping to turn that around.

He wanted this baby to be welcomed into a happy, loving family and he was willing to make the effort to turn that into a reality in the next seven months. It would take work on both their parts. Missy wasn’t the easiest woman to be with. She was demanding, spoiled and used to people constantly telling her how wonderful she was.

They weren’t a love match by any stretch of the imagination, but Ian was beginning to think love and the trappings that went with it were just a myth, anyway. Any marriage took work. Their situation might not be ideal, but she was going to have his baby and they were getting married.

He should make the most of a complicated situation. A romantic weekend together was just what they needed to stoke the fires. After all, plenty of men would love to marry Missy Kline. Her sultry voice and hard body had been a staple in Top 40 radio for the past few years. She was the star of Ian’s record label.

At least she had been. Her most recent record hadn’t done that well, but Missy wasn’t worried. She had the wedding and baby to keep her relevant. Her manager had arranged to sell the exclusive story and pictures from their wedding to some magazine. They were working on making their upcoming ceremony into some television special. It was going to be invasive, and Ian hated the idea of the whole thing, but Missy was pretty business savvy. They couldn’t pay for this kind of publicity. The day their engagement was announced and photos of her ring hit the gossip blogs, her latest song hit the top ten on iTunes. As her label, he couldn’t complain. As her fiancé, he wasn’t as thrilled.

This weekend they would take their engagement portraits and project the image of the happy power couple to the world. Then they would spend the next few days together trying to make it into a reality. A crackling fire, a stunning view, hot cocoa on the deck while snuggled under a blanket together... It would be a romantic music video come to life. He hoped.

Right now, he couldn’t guarantee that any of it was going to happen. Missy had said the snow would be romantic. He had no doubt she’d changed her mind by now.

Frowning, Ian walked to the front door, opened it and stepped out onto the front porch. The snow was sticking in earnest now, piling on the grass and creating a solid blanket across the road. You couldn’t even see the pavement. Or the layer of ice likely forming beneath it. In the South, it was rarely snow that was the problem. It was the ice that sent you skidding into ditches and sliding backward down hills.

As he watched the snow fall, a little white SUV rounded the corner and headed in his direction. His house was the last on the winding path, so once the car passed his closest neighbor he knew it had to be the photographer. If the photographer could make it from Nashville despite the weather, maybe Missy would make it in from Atlanta. At the very least, he knew the roads hadn’t closed yet.

The SUV pulled up by the steps to the front porch. Ian pasted on his smile, readying himself for a day of Academy Award–winning acting. He took careful steps down the stacked stone stairs to greet the photographer and help bring in any equipment.

A woman in a tight pair of jeans and a fitted turtleneck with a fleece jacket over it got out. She was dressed for a January day in Nashville, not the mountains. The snow had obviously been a surprise for her, too. She had no heavy coat, no gloves and no scarf, and her red Converse sneakers would offer about as much traction on ice as baby oil.

At least she had a hat. Her long blond hair peeked out beneath the knitted cap pulled down over her head. She was wearing wide, dark sunglasses, so he could see very little of her face, but for some reason, she seemed familiar to him.

The woman slammed her car door shut and slipped off her sunglasses. “Hi, Ian.”

In an instant, the face, the voice and the memories slammed together and socked him in the gut. It was Bree. Briana Harper. His freshman romance. The one who distracted him from his classes with her young, firm body and adventurous spirit. The one who dumped him at the lowest point in his life.

Ian swallowed the lump in his throat. “Bree? Wow. I had no idea you were, uh, that you would be...”

Bree winced and nodded. He could tell from the visible tension in her neck and shoulders that this was equally awkward for her. She was strung tight as a drum, and the familiarity of their past urged him to reach out and massage her neck the way he used to. But that was just nostalgia talking. He sincerely doubted touching Bree would help this situation.

“You didn’t know I was coming?”

“No, I...left all the details to Missy. She didn’t mention who the photographer would be.”

“I knew that I should’ve said something,” she began, “or given you some kind of warning in case you didn’t know, but I’d hoped not to make a big deal of it. My business partners didn’t know you and I were acquainted.”

Acquainted. That was one word for it. Touched every inch of each other’s bodies was another way to phrase it. Once the shock of her arrival faded, Ian let his curious gaze run over the rest of her once-familiar curves. There were more than he remembered, but they’d practically been kids then, still teenagers. Now she was a full-grown woman in a pair of jeans that looked painted-on.

“Is this going to be a problem for you?” she asked. “It’s not for me. I intend to keep this very professional. Your fiancée doesn’t even need to know we’ve met previously, if that’s what you prefer.”

“Yes, that’s probably for the best.” Although Missy claimed she had little competition, she was at the same time insanely jealous. She had made headlines for starting catfights in night clubs and industry parties. She’d snatched the extensions out of her supposed rival’s hair for just talking to her ex-boyfriend at a promoted event in Las Vegas.

Ian hadn’t given Missy any reason to be jealous, but he knew how easily that switch could flip in her. The last thing he needed was Missy throwing a fit about the photographer. They needed these pictures done and released to the magazine for the scheduled issue. They couldn’t wait for someone else to come up here and replace Bree.

That is, if anyone else could even make it up the mountain. The snow was falling faster than ever now. “We’d better get your things inside,” he suggested.

Bree nodded. When she turned to head toward the back of her car, her shoe skidded on the slick pavement. Her eyes widened and her arms shot out for something to steady her, but it was Ian’s lightning-fast reflexes that saved her. He reached out, his arms encircling her waist and tugging her up and against his body.

Ian instantly knew he’d made a mistake. The whole length of her was pressed into him. The scent of her favorite lotion mingled with the baby shampoo she’d always used. The familiar combination rushed to his nose, bringing back flashes of hot nights in his dorm room and in the back of his car. His entire body tensed, the cold unable to dampen the sudden arousal that being near Bree had so easily caused.

Bree clung to him, her ivory cheeks flushed pink from the cold and a hint of embarrassment. Her baby-blue eyes met his for a moment and the connection between them snapped like a current flowing freely through a copper wire. It had always been like this. Even minutes after he’d had her, he’d want her again. Back then, if she wasn’t in his arms, she was all he could think about.

He tore his gaze from hers, letting his eyes settle on the pink pucker of her mouth. That wasn’t much better. Her lips had been the softest, most welcoming lips he’d ever encountered, before college or since. Kissing Bree had been one of the divine pleasures of his life. Losing that had been almost as hard as losing his music.

That thought brought him back to reality. Ian steadied her on her feet and then disentangled himself from her before he did something stupid like kiss her. Bree reached a hand out for the side mirror of her car, taking a solid step back from him.

“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks now crimson. “That was really embarrassing.”

“That was nothing,” he said, more to himself than to her, but he followed it up. “Embarrassing would’ve been bruising your hind end on the driveway and getting your pants soaking wet and muddy.”

“True,” she said, looking around, apparently unwilling to meet his gaze again.

“Are your things in the trunk?” he asked.

“Yes.” Bree perked up, seemingly happy to focus on her work again. With one hand on her car she stepped cautiously to the back and opened the hatch on her Honda. She slung a green backpack over her shoulder and then pulled out a few black bags and a tripod.

Ian took as much as he could from her and escorted her up the stairs into the cabin. He let her focus on setting up her equipment and turned to his phone as a distraction. Hopefully reading a couple emails would help dull the raging arousal that still pumped through his veins and clouded his mind.

He hadn’t had a reaction to a woman like that since...He thought back and frowned. Since the last time he’d held Bree in his arms. Not even the belly-baring diva of his record label could match the need Bree built in him right now. He didn’t want that to be the case—life would be so much easier if things were reversed—but there was no denying it.

Missy would have a glass-breaking fit if she knew.

* * *

Bree focused on setting up her equipment even though she knew it was a pointless exercise. An hour had gone by without any sign of his fiancée. If she didn’t show up in the next half hour, the odds were that she wasn’t coming. One glance out the window made it perfectly obvious that the drive in would be next to impossible.

She had barely made it up the mountainside herself. Her tires had spun a time or two, lodging her heart in her throat. But that was nothing, nothing compared to the collision she’d just had with Ian.

It had been nine years since they’d been together. She should be over him by now. Long over him. Yet, when she was pressed against the hard wall of his chest and staring up into the dark green eyes she’d once lost herself in, the years apart seemed to vanish in an instant. All the reasons she walked away, all the heartache and the doubts, gone.

She thought he felt it, too. For a moment, she sensed a connection between them. An instant of attraction and longing had flickered in his eyes, a soft smile curling his lips. And then he’d looked away. A hard glint had shone in his eyes as he gently pushed her out of his arms.

And just as quickly, she’d realized she was a fool.

She hadn’t been able to get to her equipment fast enough. Bree needed the safety and security of her camera. It was like a barrier between her and the world. As long as she only looked at Ian through the lens, she would be okay.

At least that’s what she told herself.

That didn’t keep her from sneaking peeks of Ian now as she worked. As much as she tried to focus, her gaze would lift and she would take in a few seconds of his broad shoulders clad in black cashmere. His strong hands gripping his cell phone and typing madly at his laptop computer. The firm curve of his rear, highlighted by the custom fit of his gray wool pants...

Groaning, Bree focused her attention back on her equipment. The work is what would get her through this. It was just stupid, misplaced attraction mixed with nostalgia and jealousy. It wasn’t like things between them had ended well. There were plenty of good reasons why they didn’t work as a couple, and she had broken up with him. No sense in pining for something she had given up.

Not that it had been much to give up near the end. During the last two months of their relationship, Ian had completely changed as a person. Part of what had initially attracted Bree to Ian was that he was as different from her father as a man could get.

Doug Harper was a certified workaholic. He was successful and driven, spending nearly every waking hour of his life managing his construction company. He’d helped build half of Nashville and had made a fortune doing it. Her mother had filled the empty hours by traveling around the world and spending her husband’s earnings. That had left Bree alone at home with the housekeeper each night.

It had been a miserably lonely existence she didn’t intend to repeat as an adult. She’d always told herself she wanted a man who came home at night. One who was more interested in living than working. Who would put more importance on family and love than money and business. A soulful musician fit the bill nicely.

Ian had been everything she wanted and he’d really had a shot of doing well with his music. Until he’d stopped playing music and dropped out of school to work at a record company. Suddenly, he’d always been working.

It seemed like overnight she had lost her musician and in his place stood a clone of her dad. It had broken her heart to watch it happen, but in the end, things had turned out for the best. Ian had become extremely successful and was marrying his pop star. She had a career she was proud of and hopefully would one day find the perfect person for her, too. The photo session shouldn’t be awkward at all. At all.

So why did she have butterflies fluttering in her stomach?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ian’s voice. He was talking loudly to someone on the phone. He didn’t sound happy, but she was relieved to hear it was the weather and Missy’s tardiness that concerned him. For a moment, she’d thought he might ring up Natalie and demand another photographer. That would be so embarrassing. She couldn’t go back to Nashville and face her friends after something like that.

“What?” Ian’s sharp voice cut through the cabin, echoing in the large open space of the living room where she was unpacking. “Are you sure? No. No, of course I don’t blame you. I want you and the baby to be safe. That’s the most important thing. We can reschedule.”

Bree froze, waiting to hear the rest of the story. She was thankful she’d opted to have Amelia book her a hotel room nearby. Making it back to Nashville in this weather was a dangerous prospect. She glanced out the large bay window that looked over the valley below. She couldn’t see anything but white. No cars, no roads, no trees. Just white.

A loud curse followed by a hollow thunk startled her. She straightened up and turned back toward the kitchen. Ian blew through the archway a moment later, his jaw tight and the edges of his ears red with anger. He looked at Bree, about to speak, then he stopped himself. He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. “She’s not coming.”

Bree had gathered that much. “What happened?”

“The roads are all closed unless you have snow chains and even then, some roads are impassable. Missy was coming from Atlanta. She made it as far as Maryville, but then they started sending cars back. There’s no way to get here.” He shook his head. “I should’ve waited to do this until we could drive up together.”

Bree bit her lip, not quite sure what to say to that. “I guess we can reschedule the session in Nashville, if that’s easier.”

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the polished wooden floors. “That’s probably the best plan.”

Bree nodded. There was a confusing pang of emotions in her stomach as she turned back to her equipment to pack up.

She was relieved that she didn’t have to face his beautiful and successful fiancée today. She didn’t really feel like snapping pictures while they posed together intimately and smiled at her camera. She’d dodged the bullet. When she got back to Nashville, she needed to confess the truth to Natalie. It was probably for the best that someone else handle their engagement portraits and maybe the wedding itself. There was being a professional and there was being a masochist. She recognized the difference now.

At the same time, she didn’t want to leave. Walking out the door meant she might never see Ian again. When he’d held her outside, she’d felt a heat in her belly that hadn’t burned that strongly in a long time. She wanted him to hold her again. To kiss her the way she hadn’t been kissed in years.

She groaned inwardly and zipped her bag. Maybe she was a masochist. She was fantasizing about her ex. Her engaged, soon-to-be-a-daddy ex. The ex she’d broken up with because she couldn’t take the sudden change in everything about him. Overnight, he’d gone from a music major to a record label toadie working eighty hours a week. Bree was certain none of that had changed. He ran a successful record label. Just because he took a weekend off to pose for engagement pictures didn’t mean he was cured of his affliction.