“I won’t be long,” Tyce promised before he headed over to his van and loaded it with his gear.
Last night, after he’d made a pathetic excuse to Marge about Whitney rushing off to take an important call, he’d gone into the back kitchen and pulled out his phone to look up Whitney Banning on the internet. What a difference a last name made. Tyce had quickly learned that she was Vice President of Operations for Banning Wellness Corporation and worked downtown in their office complex.
Now he drove through the city, cutting through the traffic to get to her as quickly as possible. He parked across the street from the tall building and was just heading for the large gold-trimmed glass doors when Whitney stepped out into the sunlight.
Even in a charcoal grey business suit she was beautiful.
Beyond beautiful.
Her expression was both intelligent and focused as she spoke into her cell phone, gesturing with her hands to make a point to her wireless audience.
It was so different from the way she’d talked to Milo in the alley that night they’d met, when she’d been so gentle, so soft. And yet, he could still see that gentleness, that softness, in every move of her hands, in the purse of her full lips as she smiled at something her caller said.
She had just slipped the phone back into her bag when he got to her.
“Whitney.”
“Tyce?” He saw a flash of pure joy sparkle in her eyes before she tamped it down. “What are you doing
here?”
“You ran off so fast last night, we didn’t get much of a chance to talk.”
“We don’t have anything to talk about.”
“Are you sure about that?” Tyce asked. “After our dance last night, you really don’t think there’s anything to say? Ten minutes, that’s all I’m asking for.”
For now.
Whitney paused, and as he waited for her to make a decision about whether she would allow herself to talk to him, Tyce was worried she might shut him down. Completely.
Forever.
“All right,” she said at last. “Ten minutes. But this is my only chance for a break today, so I’ll need to get some food.”
He hated to see her like this, so tense, so rushed. “This was the job you were starting five years ago, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Her answer was clipped, but even in that one short word, he could hear the strain in her voice.
“Are you still planning to go to veterinary school?”
Her mouth tightened, her lips pressing against each other for a moment before she said, “Maybe one day.”
Only, Tyce could easily hear the
maybe not
that was far closer to the truth.
Hating the way she seemed to have tossed aside her dreams so casually, he said, “So that’s it, you’ve given up on the life you always wanted for yourself?”
“I’m helping to run my family’s business. I’m making decisions that have an impact on thousands of people’s lives. Besides,” Whitney shot back, looking him square in the eye, “have you written that perfect song of yours yet? Or are you too busy with your job at the Rose Chalet?”
When she turned to walk away, he reached for her hand and said, “That’s nowhere near ten minutes.”
Whitney looked down at her fingers linked in his, a beautiful flush spreading across her cheeks. “You’re really going to keep me here for every second of it?”
Tyce worked to get a grip on his emotions, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I’d do whatever I had to for one more second with you.”
“Tyce,” she said softly as she slipped her fingers from his, “you can’t—”
“Please. Just give me five more minutes.”
She bit her lip as she made her decision. “Okay. Five more. What do you need to talk to me about?”
Tyce had rarely ever felt nervous. Big stages and audiences had never fazed him. But this moment with Whitney was so much harder.
And so much more important.
“Your wedding.”
Her eyes widened. Then narrowed. “We already talked about that last night. Besides, it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Tell me about the guy you’re marrying.”
It killed him to ask, but he needed to see if her eyes lit up when she talked about her fiancé. He needed to see if she really loved the guy...or if marrying was just another family duty she felt she needed to fulfill.
“Kenneth,” she said quickly. “His name is Kenneth. He's a very nice man and he's going to be a really great husband.”
Relief flooded every cell in Tyce’s body. Because she definitely didn’t say the guy’s name like a woman desperately in love.
“You don’t really want to marry him, do you?”
“My god,” she exclaimed, “how can you even
say
that?” Whitney demanded. “You don’t know anything about him.”
“No, but I know you, Whitney.”
“One night,” she reminded him. “That’s all you and I had together. Whereas Kenneth and I have been friends practically forever. We even work together.”
His chest clenched at the thought of another man kissing her, slipping a ring on her finger. Especially a man she didn’t love.
Whitney deserved real love...not a pleasant marriage to a friend that almost sounded like a business deal.
“I’ve seen a lot of couples get married over the past five years,” he said softly. “I know what real love looks like, and I know when people are getting married for all the wrong reasons.”
“The wrong reasons?”
Her expression was somewhere between shock and anger. But she wasn’t walking away yet and he prayed that meant he still had a chance.
“It’s only four months until your wedding and neither of you has been into the chalet to check it out and plan the big party to kick off your future together. As far as I know, there haven’t been any talks about the dress, the food, or the music. When couples are really eager to marry, we have to find ways to slow them down and remain patient until the big day.”
“You don’t know anything about my relationship,” she told him in a low voice. “For your information, Kenneth has more important things to take care of than wedding details. He isn’t exactly going to fly over from China to pick out the color of our napkins or decide between salmon and chicken.”
With every angry word, she moved closer to him. One of the hardest things he’d ever had to do was not reach for her, not pull her against him...not kiss her the way he’d dreamed of kissing her again for so long.
He’d known this wouldn’t be easy, had known Whitney was too strong to let him convince her so easily to give him a chance. But fate wasn’t going to visit them a third time.
Which meant he had to make this one count.
“I’m sure he’s a nice guy, because I can’t see you ever going out with some loser, but are you really telling me that what you feel for him is as intense as what we both felt that one night?” He paused before laying himself completely bare. “Are you telling me that your feelings for him are anywhere near what the two of us are feeling right now?”
“Tyce—”
He reached for her, then, simply couldn’t stop himself from touching her face. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t feel the same. Tell me that you don’t still feel what’s between us as intensely as you did that night when you were in my arms. Do that, and I’ll go.”
Whitney’s eyes were locked on his and she took a deep, shaky breath as she contemplated her answer. And then, suddenly, she looked past his shoulder.
Her eyes went wide as she saw where he’d just taken her. “The Happy Pig hot dog stand. I haven’t been here in years. Not since—”
She blinked up at him, and five years fell away.
* * *
Five years ago, after walking hand-in-hand for hours...
“A hot dog stand?” Whitney said. “Tyce, I can’t, I’m a vegetarian.”
Tyce smiled, still holding Milo in his arms. “So am I. Luckily, it’s a vegetarian hot dog stand.”
“There are vegetarian hot dog stands?”
“There’s the Happy Pig.” Even late at night there was a line. But then, the place did make the best hot dogs in the city, vegetarian or not.
“So, which one should I have?” Whitney asked him.
Tyce cocked his head to the side. “Let’s ask Milo here.”
“You’re serious?”
“Why not?” Tyce asked.
“I’ve never met a guy who’ll actually talk to his animals. I mean, I used to talk to my family’s cat all the time, but most people don’t get that.”
Tyce smiled and then stroked Milo’s head. “Ah well, Milo here says you can’t trust anything a
cat
has to say.”
That got a laugh from her, but it wasn’t just laughter that Tyce wanted right then. He looked down at the small dog in his arms.
“What’s that, Milo?” he said. “You think I should do what? Yes, I think you’re right.”
“What did he say?” Whitney asked.
Tyce answered her by leaning in, with Milo pressed between them, and kissed her. It was a soft kiss. A tender kiss.
He kept kissing her while she stood there in shock...and then, when she finally kissed him back with a passion to match his, he kissed her some more, not stopping until the guy running the hot dog stand coughed pointedly and asked if they were going to order anything now that he’d served everyone in front of them.
They fell back from one another, laughing.
* * *
Tyce could see that Whitney remembered the incredible kiss they’d shared the last time they’d been standing in front of the Happy Pig hot dog stand just as well as he did from the way she half closed her eyes and a faint smile worked its way across her lips.
He leaned in towards her, just a little, and for a second, Whitney leaned in too. Tyce could practically feel the space between them shrinking, and knew that, any moment, their lips would meet.
Suddenly, Whitney’s eyes opened wide, and she took a step back from him.
“No, I can’t. I
can’t
, Tyce.”
“Are you telling me that you don’t want this?”
Whitney hesitated just a fraction of a second too long before saying, “All we shared was one night. That’s all it was.”
“Whitney—”
She looked at the Happy Pig hot dog stand and even though he could see how much she wanted to eat one of their hot dogs—and how much she wanted to stay to kiss him, too—she shook her head.
“Your ten minutes are up,” she told him.
And then she turned and walked away.
Chapter Four
Returning to the Rose Chalet as promised, Tyce found the main room still needed a lot of clean-up work. There were tables to be put away, his cables still needed to be wound up, and most of the flowers were still in place.
RJ called out, “Hey Tyce, can you give me a hand?”
Knowing hard physical work was exactly what he needed right now to burn off some steam, he grabbed tools from the toolbox and set to work ripping apart Tara.
“Whoa, take it easy,” RJ said as Tyce yanked off a large section. “We might need to put it back together someday.”
“Nope,” Tyce said, “I think Marge is actually going to stay married to this husband. Which means we’ve seen the last of Tara.” From what he’d seen today, the Banning women were better at sticking with their men than he’d given them credit for.
“Well,” RJ said, “someone else might want it. That niece of hers, maybe.”
Tyce gripped the hammer even harder as he slammed it into a beam. If he’d been at home, he would have turned his amplifier up as far as it could go, added plenty of distortion, and played hard rock until his neighbors complained. Heavy manual labor was a good substitute, though.
He and RJ made a good team, especially when RJ got into the spirit of things and attacked the wood just as much as Tyce did. By the time they were done, they had both worked up a sweat.
RJ nodded to him. “Thanks.”
Tyce should be the one thanking his friend. There was something profoundly satisfying about being able to look at something he’d done with his own hands, even if it was a demolition job.
“Tyce, there you are.” He turned to see Rose standing there watching them.
“Would you look at the two of you?” she said with a smile that made it clear she was trying not to laugh. “Sweaty and covered in wood shavings. I don’t know whether I should be keeping customers away or charging them an entry fee.” Tyce caught the way her eyes flicked to RJ again, and she flushed before saying, “This feels like the end of an era. I don’t think we’ll be getting another
Gone With The Wind
wedding for a while.”
“We’re all hoping Marge won’t be back, aren’t we?” RJ said.
“I always wanted the chalet to be about love working out,” Rose agreed. “It looks like Marge has finally gotten her happily-ever-after.”
It was obvious to Tyce that they were all glad Marge had finally found someone who made her happy. Now if only her niece didn’t do so many crazy things to
his
feelings.
And, if only Whitney would let him make her happy.
“Did you need me for something?” he asked Rose.
“I’ve been running a client through the last few things for his big day and he has a special request for you. It would be great if you could come meet with him for a few minutes to discuss the situation.”
“Let me just clean up a bit and put my shirt back on.”
A handful of minutes later, Rose introduced them. “Tyce, this is Hugh Washburn.” The middle aged man had a pleasant, open face. “He and his fiancée Theresa will be getting married here a couple of weeks from now. When they came in a few months before to meet with the rest of the group, you were away for the day.”
After they shook hands, Tyce asked, “Rose said that you had a special request. Is it about a particular song?”
“I've decided I’d like something special for Theresa as a surprise at the wedding. It's why I came without her today. We’ve both always loved music, so I was hoping that you might be able to write a song in her honor for the occasion.”
Tyce couldn’t believe the day he was having. First Whitney had walked away from him—yet again—and now he was being asked to write a song.