over the years, why he’d kept to himself all that time.
But she knew D.J. well enough to realize he would get around to it—if he intended to address the subject at all. No use scaring him off with accusations and hard questions right now. She liked the idea of having him around again too much to blow it.
He was grinning, coming off as much more confident than ever. And why not? He was rich now, even though his modest coat, jeans and boots hardly made him out to be a wealthy man.
“Here’s my thought,” D.J. said. “I’ve seen the sets you’ve done for the dinner theater…what are they calling that burlesque show that’s split the town down the middle opinion-wise?”
“Thunder Canyon Cowboys.”
Allaire felt herself flush while referring to the gauche tourist-pleasing production that had premiered after the gold rush. A spread of riches, Thunder Canyon now attracted out-of-towners like flies to a banquet: jet-setters who descended on the resort, as well as curiosity seekers who wanted to check out the town’s Old West appeal. The resort itself had been operational for almost a year, yet that didn’t mean the locals had accepted the evolving status quo. Thunder Canyon Cowboys was just one of many flashpoints dividing the populace: those who embraced the new prosperity and those who didn’t.
“You’ve seen the show?” Allaire asked, cringing at the notion of D.J. sitting through its corniness.
“I…took a peek.” His smile told her he hadn’t lasted long. “And I found out you’d done the artwork, which was definitely the best thing about it. Really impressive, Allaire. Not that I’m surprised.”
Now she was feeling prideful. And why not? She’d labored hard on those set pieces, although she couldn’t say she’d put her entire heart into them. Lately, she’d found it impossible to commit that much to a project. It’d been far easier when she was young and full of dreams.
“So that brings me to my proposition,” D.J. added. “I was hoping you might consider painting a mural inside the Rib Shack.”
She stopped walking, stunned, and it wasn’t because of his request. It was more that he was reaching out to her, even after her disastrous marriage to his brother. Shouldn’t he keep avoiding her, especially because of her failure to make Dax happy?
“Of course,” he continued, “you’d be well compensated. I also understand you would need to keep freelance hours because of school.”
“I…” What should she say? She was still trying to figure out why D.J. had shown up out of the blue to ask her this in spite of how they’d lost touch.
As she searched for a response, the football team jogged past, their practice uniforms dirt-caked. Players called out greetings to her, and she couldn’t help noticing a few students giving her the “You go, Ms. Traub” look as they noted D.J.
Their scrutiny embarrassed Allaire, made her too aware of how everyone in the core community would be talking because she was standing here with a man. She knew that behind her back their tongues were already on fire with mention of how she’d utterly failed in marriage. How she’d shamed herself with a divorce. How Allaire Traub née Buckman, an overachiever in her youth, had been expected to do much greater things with her life.
She especially couldn’t bring on more gossip by getting close to her ex’s brother. No doubt it would cause everyone to wonder if she was making a move on the second sibling after messing up with the first.
She could hear it now. The girl’s plowing her way through those Traub boys, isn’t she?
Sure, she knew D.J. was just offering her a job, and that was a separate issue. But the mere thought of opening herself up to speculation was too much. Her life had gotten comfortable lately, so why ruin that?
“I can’t take you up on your offer,” Allaire said to D.J., her heart slowing to a painful throb. “I appreciate it, but you’ll have to find someone else to create that mural.”
As his shoulders slumped, she wished she could tell her old best friend why.
* * *
D.J. felt as if he had been slammed by the world’s largest hammer.
Damn it, he’d hoped that seeing Allaire again wouldn’t be like this. He’d spent half a lifetime running from his unrequited love for her, and he’d actually believed he’d worked her out of his system.
But the second he’d seen her across the parking lot, it was as if no time had passed at all—she was still so beautiful, with her Alice-in-Wonderland hair styled in an artful, spiky bun held together with two of her smaller paintbrushes. Her figure still small and slender, even under the long, bohemian-stitched sweater covering a black turtleneck, a skirt and boots. Her china-blue eyes and porcelain skin.
She was just as he remembered except, now, there were shadows in her gaze. And D.J. knew how they’d gotten there.
His brother could go to hell for hurting her.
Naturally, Allaire would never know how much D.J. resented Dax, both for the divorce as well as for everything that had led up to it. Yes, charming, bad-boy Dax had recognized Allaire’s incredible qualities when he’d been a senior and D.J. and she had been juniors. But, for D.J., falling for Allaire had come much sooner because he’d been smitten ever since grade school, after brainy Allaire had moved up two grades into his own.
She’d always carried herself with an air of maturity, and D.J. had never minded that she was a couple of years younger. Consequently, they’d grown up together, his affection intensifying by the year.
Yet he’d never made a move.
Not with his best friend.
And when Dax moved in it’d been too late. The pair became the school’s royal couple and, even though D.J. had always waited in the wings, telling himself he’d be there when love-’em-and-leave-’em Dax inevitably broke Allaire’s heart with his carelessness, they’d stayed together. In fact, they’d gotten engaged after Allaire’s graduation.
Then, just when D.J.’s heart hadn’t had any pieces left to be broken, she’d asked him to be their best man.
Normally, D.J. wouldn’t have refused her anything, ever, yet this was different. When he’d gracefully tried to get out of the wedding, she’d begged him to reconsider. Like the good guy he was, he’d broken down, then agreed, leaving her none the wiser as to his feelings. Smiling through the ceremony and acting the part of happy brother-in-law had left him with wounds he’d struggled to heal by returning to college at the University of Georgia and creating a life that didn’t include his brother and new wife.
From that point on, it had been too painful for D.J. to return to live in Thunder Canyon, as he’d always planned. Strange, because he’d pictured himself coming back as a man who’d made himself into someone Dax could never be—truly the best man. In D.J.’s mind, he would win Allaire over once she recovered from the rejection he was still sure Dax would deal out. But the marriage had endured, which meant D.J.’s part in Allaire’s life was over.
So he’d stayed in Atlanta and directed his energies to making good on his business degree. He’d become wealthy by first working at a barbecue joint for pocket change, then experimenting
