Return to Me (Blue Harbor Book 5) by Olivia Miles (most popular ebook readers .TXT) 📕

people. Ryan, the best man at their wedding, of course, Ryan who had already spotted her and was now giving an exaggerated look of shock, clutching his chest as his eyes gleamed.

Had Kyle not mentioned she was back? She felt a flicker of something far too close to disappointment. Why should she care that Kyle didn’t bother to mention this to his brother? There was no reason for Kyle to talk about her, right?

The grin on Ryan’s face caused Kyle to turn and look distractedly over his shoulder. His frown lifted for a hint of a second, so quickly that it wasn’t entirely noticeable, but she noticed. She knew him so well.

“Well, well. Brooke Conway. Is that really you?” Ryan’s voice boomed loud enough for a few of the guys at the table near the window to shift their eyes from the television screen for a moment. “I almost didn’t notice you in that fancy outfit.”

Brooke looked down at her navy linen sheath dress and heeled sandals. “I’m simply dressed for work. I own a boutique down the street.”

“You don’t say!” Ryan’s look was accusatory when it fell on Kyle, who ignored it. “What kind of boutique?”

Brooke lifted her chin a notch and braced herself for it. “I’m a wedding dress designer.”

There was a split-second pause where she wasn’t sure if Ryan might laugh. “A wedding dress designer. Well. Isn’t that…”

“Wonderful,” Kyle cut in, shooting his brother a dirty look. He shifted his gaze back to Brooke, locking it there. “It’s really wonderful.”

Brooke stared back at him, overwhelmed with sudden emotion at the tenderness in his eyes and the sincerity in his tone, her heart weighing heavy with the creeping sense of guilt and confusion that always happened when she thought about Kyle. Now, standing in front of him, it was impossible not to see the same kind blue eyes that had looked so deeply into hers when he’d gotten down on one knee, and later, when he’d stood at the altar, watching her walk down the aisle, and then, took her hand.

She closed her eyes against the memory, against his gaze. When she opened them, he turned away, busied himself drying glasses.

“You have a few minutes to talk?” She darted a look at Ryan, who seemed to show no intention of leaving.

Kyle jutted his chin at his brother. “Take ten.”

Ryan slid another glance at Brooke before he left. A warning glance, if she didn’t know better.

“Sorry about him,” Kyle said, once Ryan had disappeared into the kitchen.

She gave a small smile, finding strange comfort in being alone with him. “I can come back later if this is a bad time.”

“It’s fine,” Kyle said. He held up a bottle of chilled white wine—Conway brand, her name across the label per the family tradition that her father and Dennis had set in place years back, naming each new blend after one of their daughters.

She was touched that he would stock her namesake wine. Confused, too. But she wouldn’t read into it. Most restaurants and bars in town stocked Conway wine, of course. People in Blue Harbor liked to support each other.

She hoped that extended to Kyle.

“Can I offer you something?”

She shook her head, refusing the drink, even though she could really use something to calm her pounding heart and take away her nerves right now. Was it so strange to be asking for a divorce, now, after all this time?

It was. Because for whatever reason, and one she couldn’t even explain to herself, she hadn’t asked for one earlier.

And neither had he.

There was no reason to hesitate, she knew. She had the loan to think about. Her long list of items to scratch off her business plan if she ever intended to grow it and make a success. She’d never get it approved if her credit was still tied to this pub, for starters. And nothing was keeping her connected to Kyle anymore but a piece of paper. What was another piece of paper at this point?

“I have to get back to work soon, so, I’m good.”

He set down the wine with a shrug. “Maybe another time.”

She narrowed her gaze. Nope, not reading into that either. Besides, maybe it was good that he was keeping things so friendly. It showed that there were no hard feelings.

“So…a wedding dress shop?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Does that surprise you?” she asked, noticing the defensive edge creeping into her tone. She braced herself for it, knowing that it would come.

“I seem to remember a girl who didn’t want to design clothing for commercial gain, but for the art.”

Maybe he was teasing her, but she’d learned over the years that there was a hint of truth in every joke, and Kyle was speaking the cold hard facts. She had taken on a job as a designer for a major brand, where her creativity was stifled, and the only gain was in the form of a paycheck that paid the rent each month with a little left over on the side for her new dream.

Because thanks to Kyle, she’d had to shift the idea of her future. Make it one without him in it.

“And I remember a guy who wanted to design custom furniture,” she replied, immediately regretting her words when she saw the way he pulled back, all hint of amusement now gone from his face. She softened her tone. “Do you still make furniture?”

“Who has the time?” He shrugged, evading her eyes. “I’m a bar owner now.”

Brooke closed her mouth, feeling a wave of disappointment that she had no claim to. Kyle had been a skilled carpenter. He was creative and passionate and detail-oriented. He’d dreamed of opening a showroom, making one-of-a-kind pieces with his two hands and his whole heart.

But that had been his dream, not hers. Even if