Wasted Summer Page 2

  He laughed. “Wait, I got it. It’s short for Melody.” Before she could stop herself, her head jerked his way—a clear giveaway. She noted the way his glance moved over her face in a careful assessment. He nodded and grinned. “Yeah, that’s it isn’t it?” He pumped his hand in triumph. “Nailed it.”

  “Yeah, you’re a regular Rumpelstiltskin, but I don’t go by that anymore.” She curled her fingers in her lap and wished she wasn’t so reactive, but lessons learned long ago taught her to act first, think later. “It’s just Mel now.”

  Ryeland frowned. “Don’t you think someone should get to know a person before they pass judgment?”

  Was he serious? People judged others all the time for no good reason. She was a prime example. And the truth was, she might not know him, but at least her assessments were based on facts, not rumor.

  “You can’t hate someone if you don’t know them, right?” he pressed.

  She stared at him and wondered what color the sky was in his fairytale world. Then again, who was she to judge what he believed? She spent most of her nights living in her own make-believe world. The stacks of unfinished stories piled high on her desk were proof of that.

  When she didn’t answer, he turned the radio down and asked again, “You can’t, right?”

  “Yeah, you can,” she shot back.

  He gave a hard turn of the wheel and took the corner. “Okay, but you shouldn’t.” He cast her a quick glance. “I’m sure you’d agree with me there?”

  “Yeah, I would.” She eyed him carefully, wondering where he was going with this. Perhaps it was best not to know.

  “So it’s settled then. You’ll get to know me. Then you’ll see I’m not like my friends and there’s no reason to hate me.”

  Mel squeezed the tampon box between her elbow and side little harder, the wet cardboard crushing under the strain. “I never said I hated you,” she corrected. “I said I didn’t know you.”

  “Which brings me back to the fact that we need to get to know each other.”

  “Look—” she began but then shook her head. “Wait, what? That doesn’t even make…” Her words fell off when he started to drive past the main lodge and toward the staff housing. “Stop, drop me off here,” she said quickly. “I don’t have time to go to my room. I have to work in…” She stole a quick glance at the dashboard clock. “Damn, I’m going to be late.”

  Ryeland hit the brakes. “What about your clothes? You can’t go to work like that.”

  She reached for the door handle. “I have a spare uniform in my locker.”

  “Hold on.” Ryeland reached for her, but seconds before he touched her arm he caught himself. He pulled back, gripped the shoulders of his polo shirt and peeled it over his head. “Put this on. You’re liable to draw some unwanted attention if you don’t.”

  She was about to protest but her gaze followed his and when she saw her nipples poking through her soaked tank top she groaned. “Thanks,” she murmured and quickly pulled the shirt on, but not before she noticed his hard, striated muscle and tanned skin. Ryeland had certainly grown up since the first time she saw him at the Cave all those years ago. He was hot. Hard. Cut.

  In fact, his body was like a Plinko game, all those hard ridges and muscles guiding her gaze down to the thin line of hair that disappeared into his jeans.

  “I’ll wash it and return it right away,” she managed to get out around a tongue gone thick.

  “Then you’ll need my address.”

  “No. I already know where your chalet is.”

  That sexy, lopsided grin returned. “Well, now, would you look at that.”

  “What?”

  “It appears you do know quite a bit about me after all.”

  She lifted her chin and countered with, “Which means there’s no reason for us to get to know each other better.”

  His smile fell, and he suddenly looked like a puppy that had just been kicked. “But you still hate me.”

  “No, I…” When she caught the glint in his eyes, the heated way he looked at her, she briefly shut her eyes and looked skyward. “You’re a little infuriating, you know that?” Jesus, could he pour it on any thicker? The guy was all sex and charm even when he wasn’t trying.

  “Only a little?” His sexy laugh fell over her, and Mel noticed the way her body warmed in all the wrong places. “Wait until you get to know me better,” he teased with a wink. “I’m sure there’ll be lots of other things you’ll want to call me.”

  “I can already think of a few.”

  “Hey, be nice. I’m one of the good guys. You’ll see.”

  Mel had no intentions of getting to know the infamous Ryeland Montgomery, a boy who’d recently graduated Canada’s Ivy League university in the top of his class and was on his way to law school to follow in his daddy’s footsteps, but she had no time to argue. She jumped from the Jeep and rushed along the stone walkway leading to the main entrance. As she hurried her steps, a strange tingle raced down her spine and the sensation that she was being watched prompted her to glance over her shoulder. Her gaze collided with Ryeland’s and they exchanged a long look. His eyes drilled into hers, tracking her every movement carefully.

  Fighting off the strange way he made her feel, she pushed through the front doors, putting Ryeland Montgomery, his sexy body, boyish grin, and demands that she get to know him better out of her mind.

  With her head low, she walked through the front foyer and dashed toward the dining room, all the while hoping to avoid a run-in with her boss. Water dripped from her bangs and she wiped her cheek on her shoulder. That’s when she caught Ryeland’s scent in the fabric. Dear God, he smelled good. Like the fresh outdoors, clean soap, and hard man all mixed together. If someone decided to bottle his scent, they’d surely make millions.

  Jaelyn came in to the back staff lounge behind her. “Holy shit, Mel, was that Ryeland Montgomery dropping you off?” Her green eyes moved over the polo Mel was wearing and she pointed a manicured nail at the little alligator logo. “Is that his?”

  “Yes and yes,” Mel said, tossing the wet tampon box into her locker before pulling his shirt over her shoulders. She was about to stuff it onto the top shelf of her cubbyhole when she caught his smell a second time. Unable to help herself she buried her face in the shirt and pulled in a breath. She drew it deep, savoring the aroma as it filled her lungs.

  “Mel?”

  Oh, God, what am I doing?

  “Yeah?” she asked, throwing the polo to the back of her locker. She grabbed her clothes and slammed the metal door shut.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “He gave me a lift because his friends soaked me. That’s it. And what’s really going on is I need to get dressed.” Dishes clanged in the dish pit outside the staff lounge as Mel paused and pointed to the dining room. “And I need to get out there before Judith realizes I’m late and cans my sorry ass.”

  Jaelyn gave her an odd look but didn’t press for details about Ryeland, and for that Mel was thankful. Changing the subject, Jaelyn whacked Mel on the ass. “Hey, you don’t have a sorry ass. You have a nice ass. Not as nice as mine of course.”

  Mel laughed. “Of course.” Jaelyn was a good friend, and even they were opposite in almost every way, she was the one person who could pull a smile from her, the one person she could count on when push came to shove. No doubt it was because her closest and only friend was also a lost soul. Except Jaelyn was a transplant who hadn’t grown up in Deerfield, which meant she was quite content to stay and work here, whereas Mel just wanted out of Dodge and to start a new life somewhere else.

  After stripping, Mel pulled on her green work shirt, with the Stone Cliff logo over her left breast, tugged on her black dress pants, and wrapped her apron around her waist. She tied her wet hair back and stuffed her notepad into her pocket. She looked at Jaelyn, who was frowning at the reservation screen on the restaurant’s computer.

  “What?” Mel asked.

  “You’re working the firs
t dinner shift on the back patio tonight right?” Jaelyn asked.

  Mel stepped up to her and looked over her shoulder. “Yeah, why?”

  “Because this just came in.” Jaelyn pointed to a name on the screen and arched her eyebrow.

  “Shit,” Mel cursed under her breath.

  Jaelyn puckered her painted lips, and cast a curious glance Mel’s way. “You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s really going on between you two?”

  Chapter Two

  Ryeland sat in his car and couldn’t wipe the stupid-ass grin off his face as he watched Melody rush up the walkway, her sweet ass dragging his focus until she disappeared from his line of sight.

  Melody…

  The name was pretty, and suited her well, which made him wonder why she’d shortened it. From the way her face fell and body tightened when he’d guessed correctly, he suspected the reason must have been a pretty damn important one.

  There was no denying that everything about her intrigued him. It had for years now, actually. Ever since he’d first spotted her at the Cave when they were teens, he knew there was something special about her, and soon enough he found himself watching her every move, searching for her in the crowd. Every year he counted on her being here at Stone Cliff, and knew she could always be found somewhere or another in the small mountain town neighboring the resort. Melody Spencer was as much a part of the landscape as the towering Rocky Mountains.

  For years she worked at Johnson’s Convenience, and Ryeland had made lots of excuses to stop in, even though she’d never paid him a lick of attention. After graduating high school, she started living in Wolf Creek Lodge and working at the daycare camps as well as the resort’s dining room, mainly the outdoor patio section—yeah, he’d been paying attention.

  He grabbed his phone and called his buddy Jared, the resort’s concierge. If anyone could make things happen around this place it was Jared. The guy had his pulse on the action and knew everything about everyone.

  “Stone Cliff Resort, Jared speaking. How can I help you?”

  “Jared, buddy, it’s Ryeland.”

  “Hey. Ryeland, welcome back. How’s it going?”

  “Things are good. Listen, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to deliver a package to Mel Spencer for me.”

  “You bet.”

  After giving him the details, he dropped his phone onto his lap, put his vehicle back in gear, and followed the road leading to his folk’s chalet.

  Tall trees overhead shaded the road and provided a canopy from the heavy rain. Ryeland cracked his window, and while he usually loved the drive along the mountain, and loved spending his summers with his younger siblings, today he had a peach-sized lump in his throat.

  After a hard four years studying at McGill, this summer hiatus was supposed to be about regrouping before he started law school in the fall and eventually joining his father in his practice, Montgomery and Associates. But deep down, he wanted to be a physician, a specialist, more than anything, not a cutthroat shark that gave all attorneys bad names. Except his father was a driven man and not someone anyone wanted to disappoint, which left Ryeland in a tough spot.

  Ryeland wanted to do something more purposeful with his life, more meaningful—at least to him anyway. If he had it his way, if he felt his future was actually in his hands, he’d become an oncologist, helping sick kids here in Canada as well as volunteering his time overseas. But how could he turn his back on his father when the man had been grooming him to take over his firm for as long as he could remember? It was important to Arthur Montgomery to have his son join him, important to keep up appearances and present a united front in his social circles. While things might not always be perfect at home, every single Montgomery had to pretend their life was flawless. No way could the hard-hitting lawyer risk the opposition digging up dirt and using it to their advantage in the courtroom.

  His father might be hard on him, harder than he was on his younger siblings. But he guessed it was because some eighteen years ago, when Ryeland was five years old, he’d nearly died from childhood leukemia. His father had changed drastically after Ryeland’s diagnosis, became a little colder with Ryeland, a little tougher. Perhaps it was because he felt Ryeland needed his strength and not his coddling. Regardless, his old man’s hard-headedness, his unemotional, clinical approach to Ryeland’s illness pushed Ryeland to be stronger, to be tougher. Although he had to admit a hug every now and then might have been nice. But his father wasn’t the hugging type, at least not after the sickness—or with him. And the truth was, he hated when Ryeland showed empathy. Ryeland was pretty sure it pissed the man off when he volunteered at the resort’s stables. Maybe the hard-assed lawyer in him thought compassion and empathy for others was some kind of weakness.

  Birds chirped in the distance and pulled his thoughts back as he drove along the windy stretch of road that followed along beside the lake. Kids hovered near a wharf, waiting for the storm to pass before they jumped back in. Their laugher could be heard as he crested the hill leading to their summer chalet. From his distance he caught sight of Justin Beechcroft and his two buddies, Cameron and Nikko sitting on the porch railing under the awning, waiting for him.

  He pulled his car up beside Justin’s flashy Mustang, slammed the stick into first, and yanked on his emergency brake.

  “What took you so long?” Justin asked as Ryeland climbed from the driver’s seat. “And where the hell is your shirt?”

  Ryeland grabbed his duffle bag from the backseat, slamming the door with more force than necessary. “You fucking asshole.”

  “What?” Justin asked, laughing as he feigned innocence.

  “You know what. You splashed that girl on purpose.”

  “Like hell I did. I swerved to avoid a squirrel.” Justin held his hand over his heart. “Scout’s honor. Could I help it that she was walking next to a puddle?”

  “Yeah, sure, Justin. Go sell your crap to someone else.” Ryeland pushed his wet hair from his forehead and took the steps leading to the front door two at a time. “That was a shit thing to do and you know it.”

  “What, you’d prefer it if I killed an innocent squirrel? I mean, come on, don’t you remember the time I shot a squirrel with a BB gun and you went all Statham on my ass? Shit, I thought you’d be happy that I avoided it.”

  “We were nine,” Ryeland countered.

  “So you’re saying I should have killed a poor, helpless squirrel?”

  He took in Justin’s cocky smirk and suddenly wondered why they were still friends. Sure he’d known the guy since they were kids, meeting up with him and the other guys at Stone Cliff every summer. Their parents were all friends from back east which, by default, meant their kids were friends too. While Ryeland chose to go to school in another province, the other three stayed back home and went to Kingsdale and had all grown a lot tighter over the years.

  “Why are you worried about her?” Justin asked. “She’s nothing but the local whore anyway.”

  Ryeland glared at his friend, shards of anger prowling dangerously through his veins. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

  Nikko jumped from the railing. “Shit, what the hell’s gotten into you?”

  Ryeland pulled his key from his pocket and opened the front door. “Nothing,” he said as his friends piled in behind him. “Just don’t talk about her like that. You don’t know her.”

  “Well, when you put it like that, maybe I should get to know her a little better this summer.” Justin grinned and bumped fists with Nikko. “If you know what I mean.”

  Ryeland reached into his duffle bag and pulled out a clean shirt. “Leave her alone.”

  “You got a thing for her or something?” Nikko asked as he went to the fridge to grab a cold one. “I guess she is kind of cute.”

  Cute? She wasn’t cute. She was straight up gorgeous, with long dark hair that fell to the middle of her back and a sassy attitude that challenged him in ways he’d never been challenged before. She was so different from the
girls he normally associated with, and he had to admit, everything about the tough girl who didn’t like to be touched and wanted nothing from him—hell, everyone wanted something from him—made him want to get to know her that much more.

  Even though she had a great body, she was a little on the thin side, making those dark, haunted eyes of hers look ten times bigger. He’d heard the stories over the years and had been warned by his folks to stay away from the local girls, who were nothing but trouble. Ryeland, obedient son that he was, had always kept his distance. But today, oh Jesus, today after seeing her standing on the side of the road, soaking wet, looking like she was about to kill someone, he found her impossible to resist.

  He grinned, thinking about the way she’d taken a combative stance with him. Christ, he had no doubt she could kick his ass, and he kind of liked that she held her own against him. He could tell from the way she talked to him, to the disdain in her eyes, that she hated him and his friends—not that he could blame her after Justin’s childish stunt. But it did give him all the more reason to prove he was different. All the more reason to prove he wasn’t some stereotype, because somewhere deep inside, he suspected she wasn’t either, and the rumors were just that. Rumors. And truthfully, he really wanted to get to know her better. He had for a long time now.

  “What’s so funny?” Cameron, who’d remained quiet until now, asked.

  Ryeland wiped the smile from his face and looked out the window to see his parents’ car pull in behind his Wrangler. As his father walked to the trunk, the knot in his stomach tightened. Soon enough his dad would want to strategize and plot the rest of his career with him, and Ryeland knew he’d have to make one of two choices. Tell his old man he didn’t want to join his practice and risk getting blacklisted from the family—yeah his father was that much of a hard ass with him—or follow in Dad’s footsteps and spend the rest of his life miserable?

  Shit.

  Nikko dropped down onto the sofa and planted his feet on the glass coffee table. “So what’s on for tonight? Are we heading to the Cave? I hear it’s supposed to clear up later.” He took a long pull from his bottle and dropped it onto the table beside his feet.