Something Old Page 4

  “This has nothing to do with Delaney. Maybe at the beginning it did, but now, I love it here. I’m making my own way and want to stay here.”

  His father grunted. “I’m not getting any younger, Ethan. It’s time you come home and settle down with that sweet girl, Cami Spencer, right? She’s perfect for you.”

  “As Delaney was five years ago?” Ethan couldn’t resist the taunt, even as his heart twisted, an emotion he thought he’d long gotten over, along with the girl. “Cami is a diversion, nothing more.”

  “She could be more. She’s young, from a good family, and already great friends with your stepmother. She’ll step into the role of society wife easily.”

  “I don’t want a society wife.” Not that it mattered.

  “Tell me you’re not dallying with a farmer’s daughter?”

  The horror in his father’s tone had Ethan laughing. What he wouldn’t give to bring home exactly that, just once. Maybe his father would leave him alone. The only thing worse would be bringing Delaney back into the family fold.

  The silence dragged on, leaving his father to fill the empty space. “We’ll talk about this further. Maybe next week.” His voice changed, no longer the gruff businessman but now the father. “Kira wondered if you would take us over to the island when you go. You’re headed over Thursday or Friday?”

  He glanced at his calendar, debating whether to lie or tell the truth. He hated flying his stepmonster anywhere, with her absurd theatrics and fake tears. “I’m supposed to head over Sunday, but I might have to delay that. Big storm coming off the gulf.”

  “Well, let me know. I could always charter something if you can’t make it. See you next week, son.” The phone clicked.

  “Bye, Dad.” Ethan spoke into the buzzing phone line.

  Conversation over, but only for a time. He’d bought himself a week, but the pressure would be on after the wedding.

  But his father had brought up one thing. Facing Delaney was going to be difficult but it was the perfect opportunity to make the final break with his past, to find out what had happened between them and get the closure he needed to finally move on with his life. Just because he had moved to Hermitage and away from Houston didn’t mean he had left everything behind. No, he was still tethered to the past and it was time to deal with it. He wouldn’t be inviting Cami. He’d confront the past head-on, put it to bed, and come out stronger.

  Decision made, he grabbed a pair of gloves and headed out to the truck. Walking the vines and checking the grapes for fungus and ripening, and taking sugar counts would be a great way to work off his frustration and figure out how to deal with Delaney and his father. And how the hell he’d survive a week in Delaney’s company without getting sucked back into that black hole.

  Chapter Three

  Delaney steered her ten-year-old Toyota Corolla out of Houston and down Route 45 to Galveston where she’d catch the airplane to take to the small coastal island for the wedding. It was Sunday morning and her eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. For the past two nights, she’d tossed and turned, thinking about Caroline’s “reunion” and their reaction to seeing her. The bridal shower had been an unmitigated disaster, with resentment coming off the other bridesmaids in waves and guests of Caroline sneering at Delaney the whole time.

  That had been the first time she had seen most of these people in a social setting since the arrest. She’d avoided most of her friends, which honestly wasn’t hard since she’d been focused on her family and survival mode for the first year after her father’s arrest. Caroline’s accusation that she had cut them out of her life still stung, but it had been all about self-preservation. But now, the past five years and her history were coming back to slap her in the face. Not only would she see all her former society friends, she’d be thrown into close quarters with the three women she had lived with in college. And he would be there too.

  Ethan.

  Pain twisted in her chest, something she felt every time she thought about Ethan or heard his name. She missed him. Missed his strength. Missed his teasing side, not letting her take herself too seriously. Missed being in his bed. They might have been Houston’s golden couple, but they were fire and ice in the bedroom. Only with Ethan had she ever let go completely, and she burned for him. She couldn’t bear to see that fire extinguished by hatred and vitriol. She had broken it off in a cowardly way, doing it at a charity event in front of all their friends and then running before he could stop her. It was the only way she could do it, could survive it.

  Since their breakup, Delaney hadn’t seen him except once in the past five years. About a year after she broke their engagement, he came to a museum event, probably at the urging of his stepmother. He had a replacement on his arm, another society darling. A blond-haired, blue-eyed petite beauty. If Delaney didn’t know any better, she’d think that girl was a replacement for her. When confronted with Ethan, he had stared through her, as if he didn’t even see her, as if she hadn’t mattered, as if she didn’t exist. That was the one and only time Delaney had cried, hiding in the bathroom in the employees’ lounge, tears flowing.

  How would their meeting be this time? Would he be cruel, looking right through her? She doubted it. He’d be forced to interact with her, unable to pretend she didn’t exist. Maybe he’d gotten over her and they’d be almost strangers. Strangers who’d slept together and planned to marry. Either way, it was the perfect time to mend the broken fences and move on with her life. Apologize, have a nice week then return to her everyday life. Maybe then, with her past put to bed, she could move on and accept her changes and find a new path. Although, a small secret part of her whispered that he wasn’t attached and she wasn’t either. Maybe enough time had passed for a second chance.

  She hoped Caroline hadn’t adopted Delaney as her next pet project. Caroline seemed all sweetness and light to people who didn’t know her. Delaney had known Caroline for over twenty years. She was velvet-wrapped steel and possessed a way of deciding what would be best for people.

  Once Delaney crossed the bridge to Galveston, she rolled down the windows, conserving the barely working air-conditioning and let the ocean breezes take away all her concerns, including her worries over the coming week. The wind tousled through her layered bob, making her feel five years younger and carefree, pushing aside the small niggling guilt at cutting her hair just before the wedding. She didn’t care. The look was younger, peppy, hip. Freeing, really. A shot in the arm to her confidence that she desperately needed for the week ahead. When she finally pulled in the parking lot in the small airport, where she would pick up the charter, she felt relaxed and prepared to handle whatever came her way.

  Then reality hit harder than a wave on the east shore. She really was going. Going to see Ethan and everyone again.

  Nerves and something else held her back, physically, keeping her in the car, protecting her from any renewed pain that this week would dredge up. Was she ready for this? Did she have a choice?

  Delaney heaved a sigh and opened the car door. If she waited much longer, the charter flight would leave without her and, as much as she wanted to bail on the whole week, she couldn’t do that to her best friend. Heat from the hot September sun slammed into her and sweat broke out on her brow immediately. Damn. Even early on a Sunday morning and near the Gulf of Mexico, the heat wave sucked the life out of her, just like in Houston. Hopefully, Whitby Island would be cooler with the ocean breezes and lower water temperatures making it more bearable.

  She yanked the cheap, wheeled bag out of the trunk and draped the plastic dress case with her maid of honor gown over her arm along with her purse, already feeling the moisture from the humidity gathering on her arm under the plastic. The flimsy, plastic wheels protested any movement and fought her as she dragged them over the rough blacktop of the parking lot. She finally got to the charter flight office, where a bearded older man sat at the counter doing a crossword puzzle, wearing a grease-stained baseball cap. She dug out her ticket and passed it across the
opening to him. He studied it for a moment and frowned.

  “That’s not here, miss. That’s a private charter. Head over to hangar two to meet your charter plane.” He pointed the way and she groaned. More walking outside in the heat on the baking blacktop.

  She hitched her handbag over her shoulder, tried to ignore the trickle of sweat rolling down her back and wheeled her luggage over to the designated hangar.

  A twin-engine airplane was parked in front of the hangar and a tall man in jeans and a shirt was walking around it with a clipboard, inspecting the plane. The sun was in her eyes so she had a hard time making out his features. Nor did she see any other passengers waiting for the trip. She stopped about twenty feet away and left her luggage with the maid of honor gown draped over the suitcase.

  She walked a couple steps, shading her eyes against the glare. “Excuse me? I’m looking for a charter?”

  Without turning around, the man replied, “Over by the gate.”

  A chill ran up her spine at the timbre of his voice. It couldn’t be. Caroline wouldn’t do that to her.

  “They directed me over here. I’m headed to Whitby Island.”

  Slowly, the man straightened and pivoted on his heel.

  He pushed back the cowboy hat and studied her. “Delaney Winters. I might’ve known.”

  At the first sound of the woman’s voice, Ethan’s stomach clenched and twisted. The smooth, cultured tone, with underpinnings of a Houston accent, a tone he hadn’t heard in a few years. He told himself that tone, that accent was common to society in Houston. Lord knew he’d attended many society events hosted by his stepmother, constantly turning to hear a voice, hoping, praying it was her. But it never was. She was gone, erased from his life like a death in the family, yet haunting him at odd moments like a ghost of a long-lost love. Unfortunately, he still found himself looking for Delaney Winters around every corner. Just when he’d vowed to move on, maybe find happiness with someone else, Matthew’s wedding slapped him in the face with the past, a past he’d hoped was buried forever.

  At the second sound of her voice, his heart stuttered and stopped then restarted again. Or maybe it started again for the first time in five years, since the breakup of their engagement. Either way, he had to man up and deal with the situation and not let her see his emotions roiling beneath the surface.

  He pivoted on his boot heel. He shoved his hat out of his face and studied the tall blond staring him down. Damn, it really was her. And, of course, the sun was streaming down at just the right angle to spotlight her, a halo for an angel. Only, her wings were clipped and the halo forever tarnished, or sold to cover her family’s many debts. His gaze wandered over her narrow frame. She had always been thin, but it was more from starvation and an over-enthusiastic regard for exercise, which often included sex with him. Now, she had grown, filled out a little and had curves in all the right places. She wasn’t soft or fat, by any means. The hardness in her eyes and the tension bracketing her lips reflected how she’d aged and grown up.

  A spurt of attraction shot through him, or maybe lust. He’d been too long without a woman, stayed sequestered on the vineyard too long, so it was only natural. At least that was what he kept telling himself. What kind of masochist lusted after a woman who ripped out his heart and stomped all over it? He’d thought he’d been prepared to see Delaney but his body’s reaction, the clenching deep inside and the shot of attraction was back as if the past five years had never happened. But it had and he could control his body.

  “Delaney. Been a while.”

  She nodded, a regal inclination of her head, but her eyes showed a hint of panic. “Ethan. Where’s the pilot?”

  He pulled off his hat and slapped it against his leg, enjoying her stress. “You’re looking at him.”

  Her eyes widened and she let out a nervous laugh. “Seriously. Where’s the pilot, and the rest of the passengers? Aren’t Brigid and Anna coming over too?”

  He shook his head once. “Nope, not that I’m aware of. Actually, I wasn’t expecting you either. Caroline asked me to bring over some special wine for her wedding and a special package. My guess is that’s you.”

  She scowled at a piece of paper in her hand. She grimaced, reflecting the argument she was having with herself. He opened the airplane door and tossed the clipboard inside. He strode over the twenty feet or so and jerked his head toward her bags. “You coming or not? It’s me or the ferry. I hear the Gulf is a little rough right now. The boat will be rocking all over the place.”

  Alarm skittered across her face and she turned a little green at the thought of the boat, then she glanced back and forth between the plane and him.

  Finally, she replied, in her prim, princess voice, “Are you qualified to fly that thing?”

  “Since I’ve owned it for two years and been licensed for four, I’d say yes. No accidents yet. But there’s always a first time.” He rocked back on his heels and smirked at her widened eyes. He never remembered getting much of a reaction out of her, but now she was off balance, and he found an off-balance Delaney to be intriguing.

  “I didn’t know you were a pilot.”

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. I like flying. Gives me freedom to go all over Texas, whenever I want. Are you coming or not?”

  She bit her lower lip and glanced at the gate and at the charter flights. A spurt of anger darted inside him. The flash of anger surprised him, the possessiveness, the overdeveloped sense of responsibility toward her motivating his actions. He’d have to tamp that down if he wanted to get her out of his system this week. But the fierceness rode him hard, his body clenching at her closeness. No way was his Delaney going to fly with anyone but him. Even if she wasn’t his anymore.

  He grabbed her bag and the garment bag and strode toward the plane. Delaney charged after him, tugging at his arm. He opened the door and tossed her bags in the back then slammed the door.

  “Decision made. Let’s go.”

  She dug in her heels and crossed her arms in front of her. “I didn’t agree to go with you.”

  “You waited too long.” He took a step back, needing the distance, and studied her face. “You were never indecisive, Delaney. You’ve changed.”

  “We’ve all changed. I still don’t like your he-man, take charge attitude. You’re not the boss of me.”

  He crowded her against the plane, tilted back the hat, and placed a hand next to her head, not understanding the impulse that made him push her, only that he hated her remote coolness and needed to shake her up. Leaning close, he inhaled the scent of her shampoo. It was a different scent, like so much of her. She stepped back against the hot metal of the plane but met his gaze defiantly. He leaned close enough to smell her breath. He caught the scents of coffee beans mixed with something else. Hazelnut, if he wasn’t mistaken.

  “It’s been a while.” His voice lowered and came out huskier than he had expected, sharp need coursing through him.

  Her eyes widened again and her chest heaved. She swallowed but never broke the connection. A hunger burned in her eyes, burned for him and the explosive combination that they were. They weren’t over, not by a long shot.

  She lifted her hand and pressed it against his cheek, the coolness of her skin soft against the rough bristle of his three-day growth. “I never forgot you, Ethan.”

  Her quiet words slammed into him like a windstorm and forced him into action. He pushed away and opened the door to the cockpit.

  “You’ll ride up front with me. Side door.”

  Chapter Four

  Delaney’s hands twisted nervously in her lap, her eyes fixed downward instead of out of the cockpit or at the man seated next to her. The space was too small, the man too large, for her comfort. Damn her irrational fear of boats and the water. She should have taken the ferry and used the time to prepare herself for seeing Ethan again.

  She thought she had planned for this moment, ready for anything this week would throw at her. Boy, had she been mistaken. Ev
en as she had driven up here, a niggling sense of doubt prodded her mind and had her wondering if Caroline would dare try to play matchmaker. Never in her wildest dreams did she think Ethan would be the one to fly her to Whitby Island.

  She glanced over at Ethan, his confident hands controlling the plane, eyes focused on the horizon. Sure and steady, the complete opposite to her dramatic mother and hyperactive father. That had always attracted her to him. Her house had sometimes felt like a zoo where the animals ran free with no zookeeper, except for her. When things got too rough, she had had Caroline and then Ethan. Caroline never judged but always supported her. Ethan made her feel loved and wanted. When her life went to shit and chaos reigned, she couldn’t drag him down too.

  The plane jerked, turbulence, and she clenched her hands tighter. Ethan reached over and covered her hands with one of his, the heat warm and comforting. He gave a brief squeeze.

  “Relax. I’ve been flying for almost five years now. Trust me.” Then he laughed, a rough, raw sound that had her turning to face him. He took his hand back and shrugged. “I forgot. You’re not much on the trust thing.”

  She sighed. It was going to be like that. She placed a hand on his arm. “Ethan, you don’t understand.”

  “No, you’re right. I don’t understand. I didn’t back then, and I don’t now. But I’m not having this discussion while I’m trying to fly this plane. In fact, I might never have this discussion. Got it? You made your feelings pretty damn clear five years ago.”

  Bitterness laced his tone, adding a bite to the words that tore at Delaney.

  She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “Ethan, I’m sorry. I know I’ve never said...”

  “What part of not talking about this right now didn’t you understand?”

  His head whipped around to face her, jaw clenched. She itched to take off his sunglasses, to see his eyes, but she instinctively knew they’d blaze as hot as the sunlight they were flying into. She folded her hands in her lap and studied them, not looking up. His scent curled around her in the small cockpit, musk and sweat, a smell she never thought she’d experience again.