Crazy Ever After

Chapter Four

He was staying there? In her parents’ house?

Samara hurried up the stairs to the privacy of her bedroom. She’d said she was tired and she was, but even so, once in bed she lay wide awake in the darkness. Her body was tired but her mind remained active, churning over everything that had happened that day, starting with that phone call from Travis.

Seeing him again. All those memories flooding back, the ones she’d locked away in the very back of her mind. She turned her face into the pillow, her chest aching, remembering all those intense teenage feelings she’d had for him. Remembering that night just after her high school graduation, the night she’d done the stupidest thing in her life, and how wounded she’d been.

She’d had a crush on Travis for so long. Every boy she dated was just that...a boy. She’d compared everyone to Travis—his athletic body, lean and muscled from the surfing, sailing, and climbing he did on weekends, his maturity, his willingness to get into deep discussions about things like fair trade and conditions in developing countries and how to take market share away from Starbucks. The magnetic attraction his easy smile and sparkling blue eyes held for her. Nobody even came close to appealing to her like Travis did.

Sure he was older than her. He was her father’s friend and business associate, and maybe that made him seem a little forbidden, a little dangerous. She was honest enough with herself to question whether that increased the attraction for her, and she didn’t know the answer. She only knew she wanted him so badly and truly felt like she was falling in love with him.

There were moments where she was convinced he wanted her too. Like at the dinner table when she’d look up at him and he’d be staring at her with such focused intensity she immediately became hot and disoriented. Or at the company golf tournament when they’d golfed on the same team, when she’d sunk a putt to birdie the ninth hole and he’d grabbed her in an exuberant hug that had lasted just a little too long, awareness surging between them. Maybe if those things had never happened, she never would have let herself think there could really be something between them.

That evening just after graduation, she’d taken Travis out to show him the new gazebo they’d had built in the yard. She’d led the way down the stone path through the woods, the late evening sun casting long dappled shadows through the lacy leaves of the trees. They’d been all alone in the tranquil grounds. Travis had been quiet—tense.

She took his hand in hers as they walked and she chatted away. When they arrived at the gazebo, all decorated with Victorian gingerbread, she led him inside. In the dim light, she turned to face him, still holding his hand. They stared at each other wordlessly for a long, stretched-out moment, and her heart had thudded so hard it made her breathless. Then she tugged on his hand, moving them closer together, her breasts brushing his chest.

She was the first to admit she’d been aggressive that night. It seemed like the perfect opportunity, and who knew when she’d have another one? So, she’d boldly gone up on her toes, wound her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

He’d kissed her back. When he closed his hands on her waist and opened his mouth over hers, she’d started shaking with excitement and lust. Finally, finally they were together! And it was delicious. Better than she’d imagined in all her feverish fantasies alone in her bedroom. She pressed her aching breasts against his hard body, threading her fingers through his shaggy hair to pull his head closer.

His hands tightened on her and she could feel how hot he was, almost damp, how his body was shaking too. Triumph and exhilaration sparked through her veins. The kiss went on and on. He tipped his head to deepen it, licking into her mouth to find her tongue.

She was dizzy, hot, beyond thinking as she responded to the hormones and lust that drove her, kissing him back, open-mouthed, hungry, desperate for him.

Then he’d closed his eyes and turned his head away from her seeking mouth. “Christ, Sam,” he muttered, jaw tight, nostrils flaring.

“What?” she murmured. “I know you want me too, Travis.” She kissed his jaw, the growth of whiskers there thrillingly rough and masculine.

His hands were hard on her waist as he set her away from him, turned, then covered his face with his hand. She stood there, open-mouthed.

“Travis? What?”

“Samara. We can’t do this.”

“Why...why not?” Her voice came out high and shaky.

“You’re seventeen.”

“Eighteen.”

“Not yet, you aren’t. You’re just a kid.”

Her heart cracked a bit, making her gasp, and her stomach turned over. “I’m not a kid.” She wanted to argue, to protest, to beg. She laid a hand on his shoulder and tried to get in his face. “Travis. Please.” Her body still ached for him, but she was starting to feel a burn of humiliation. Heat seared her cheeks.

He shook his head, moving determinedly away from her. “Let’s go back.”

Her sharp intake of air hurt her chest. Her eyes stung, and her stomach heaved. Why was he being so mean about this when she knew he was just as turned on as her? She wasn’t very sexually experienced—okay she had no sexual experience at that point—but she knew what a hard-on felt like, and he’d had one. A huge one.

“But, Travis...I love you.”

He groaned, rubbed his face. “Oh god. No you don’t,” he said, his voice gravelly. “You’re just a kid.”

She stared at him, burning with humiliation, her face hot, her heart pattering so fast she felt dizzy. She swallowed a moan, whirled around and fled.

She’d been humiliated. Hurt. She couldn’t stop thinking about him and why he’d rejected her when she knew he’d felt something for her too. She’d been trying to think of ways to show him that she was nearly an adult, that the age difference between them didn’t matter, but only a few days later, she’d overheard that conversation between him and her mother, and she’d found out the real reason he’d rejected her.

She’d been hurt, so badly, and not just by Travis, but by her own mother. Her own mother had taken away the man she loved.

Now, hot tears spilled onto her pillow, tears she hadn’t allowed herself to shed since she’d left home seven years ago. She’d shut off her emotions and focused on school and work and the coffee business, intent on making a new life for herself far away from the people who’d hurt her and betrayed her, people she’d loved most in all the world. Only her father had never let her down and now...he had. He was gone. Damn him.

Hot anger swelled up inside her, making her face burn. How could he have done this? What had happened to him? He was the one who’d always been there for her. “Damn you, Daddy,” she whispered into the darkness, her throat aching. “Why’d this happen? Why’d you have to go? I can’t handle this.”

Yes, you can.

She heard his voice as if he were in the room with her.

“You can do anything you put your mind to,” her father had told her so many times. As a child, whenever something seemed impossible, he’d encouraged her. “Everything you do that’s difficult is a chance for you to grow, to learn exactly what you’re capable of. To increase your confidence. When you’ve done it, you can say ‘I did it’ and remember that next time. And know you can do whatever you want.”

He’d been right. Confidence was never something she’d lacked as she’d grown up.

If she ever needed it, it was now.

For years after she’d left home, she’d dreamt about Travis nearly every night, but over the years, the dreams had faded in intensity and lessened in frequency. Now they’d come back with a vengeance, making her restless and twitchy all night in her bed, interrupting her sleep. Facing him in the morning, her body tingled with awareness and heat warmed her cheeks remembering those dreams. But she was not going to let him know how disturbed she was by him being there.

“What are you going to do today?” she inquired.

“I’ll need to meet with Communications.” He lifted his coffee cup. “They’ll want to do a press release and also send some kind of communication out to staff. Parker must have left some work outstanding. I’ll see what I can take care of.”

Today he wore a casual golf shirt, an olive green color that emphasized the deep golden tan of his skin. Living in California apparently suited him. He looked like he spent a lot of time at the beach.

“I’ll come with you. To the office.”

He gave her a level look. “You have a funeral to arrange.”

“Mom can make the arrangements without me.”

“I thought we discussed this already. She needs your help, Samara.”

“I don’t know anything about arranging funerals. I won’t be much help.”

“Let me rephrase that. She needs your support.”

He was right, dammit. She blew out a breath. “Okay, fine. I can come to the office after. Wait for me.”

His brows drew down. “Excuse me?”

“Wait for me,” she said again. Had he not heard her? “We won’t be long. I’ll go to the office with you.”

“Uh...why?”

“I’m his daughter,” she said. Duh.

“Samara, you’re a regional manager. You wouldn’t have a clue about your father’s work.”

Indignation and hurt stabbed inside her. She drew herself up. “I beg your pardon? I already told you my father was teaching me about all parts of the business. Plus, I have a degree in Operations and Supply Chain Management.” She paused. “Which you do not.”

His eyes narrowed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you questioning my ability to run this company?”

“You don’t run the company,” she retorted. “My father runs— I mean, ran the company.”

His jaw tensed, and his eyes flashed blue sparks. “Your father and I were partners.”

“But he was the CEO.”

“We were partners,” he repeated. “Yes, we each had our own day-to-day responsibilities, and different titles, but we were still partners in the business.”

“I thought when he transferred you to L.A. you were demoted.”

His eyes widened, and then he laughed. He actually laughed. “Demoted. That’s a good one.”

She fumed, eyeing him across the breakfast table. “What’s so funny? If that’s not the case, then tell me why you did move to L.A.” She lifted her chin, challenging him. She thought she knew the reason, but what was he going to say?

He stared at her, brows drawn down, jaw tight. “We needed someone in L.A. to manage the wholesale and retail operations.”

She’d gotten to him with that question; she could tell. The way he pressed his lips together, the way his jaw tightened...it must be guilt about what he’d done.

Inside, she was the one quivering with guilt. She was being a bitch. But it was better to attack him than to let on how hurt she still was by what had happened. “Really. Somehow I thought it was more than that.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he managed to say. He slammed his coffee cup down and stood, balling up the napkin that had been on his lap. Then he laid both hands flat on the table and leaned down to put his face right in front of hers. “That company is just as much mine as it is your father’s,” he growled. “He might have taken me on when I had a lot less to invest than he did, but we grew the company together. We were business partners, and that never changed.”

Wow, he was furious. He was so intense, eyes flashing, mouth hard, she wanted to shrink back into her seat a little. Strangely, it was...exciting. Holy Godfrey. Her nipples tingled, and every hair on her arms stood up. Defiantly, she stayed in place, holding his heated gaze.

“Looks like someone’s guilty conscience is bothering him,” she said softly.

His eyebrows jerked together, and he stared at her. Then with a rough sound low in his throat, he straightened and pushed a hand through his tousled gold-streaked hair.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Now I know why Parker went gray so early.” He turned and left the room, brushing past her mother, who was just walking into the room. Her smile faded as he strode past her.

She turned to Samara. “What’s wrong with him? Oh, Samara. What did you say?”

Samara looked away from her mother’s chiding gaze. “We were talking about the company.”

Mom sat down at the table and reached for the coffee thermos. “I see.” She poured coffee into a cup. “You know, he is your boss.”

Samara blinked at her mother. “Well, yes, technically he is. But...”

Mom raised calm emerald eyes. “But what? What else is there but ‘technically’? You’ve always made a point of not wanting to use your family connection to your advantage in the company.”

Samara leaned back into her chair and blinked. “Travis can’t fire me.”

Her mom just tipped her head and sipped her coffee. “Well. He probably wouldn’t.”

Holy crap! What the...Samara’s mind whirled. He had no power over her. Not that way anyway. There was no way he could... Hell. She had to acknowledge the reality of their corporate structure. But none of the other executives would support him if he fired her, because of who she was. Except it was true—she had always made a point of not wanting any special treatment at Cedar Mill Coffee because of who she was.

She sat back in her chair. She was doing a good job. Better than good. She’d increased sales in every store she’d managed, and then for the entire division she supervised. She was a valuable asset to the company. He couldn’t fire her without risking a wrongful dismissal suit.

She’d sue his ass and take great pleasure from it.

Damn, he had a nice ass.

She slumped lower in the chair and took a breath. “He doesn’t want me to go to the office with him,” she told her mother, more calmly. “He doesn’t think I would be able to help.”

“Oh. And you think you would.”

“Yes. I think I could. I know more about the business than most people. Dad taught me a lot. I’ve taught myself a lot. I know Dad wanted me to work my way up. And maybe...” She hesitated. This was a bit of a leap, considering they’d never talked about that far into the future. “I think he wanted me to take over the company from him some day. When he retired.”

Mom smiled. “I doubt he’d ever have retired, but I have no doubt he wanted you involved in the company. Along with Travis.”

Samara’s eyes widened. “With Travis?” She shook her head. “But Dad was the CEO.” Travis’s protests about equal partnership echoed in her ears.

Mom shook her head. “You do know a lot about the business, Sam, but there’s still a lot to learn. Your father and Travis hold equal shares in the company, forty per cent each.”

Oh. She’d never thought about the actual shares in the company. “Who has the rest?”

Her mother smiled again. “I do.”