aching heartbeat—was Brielle.
Of course, it wasn’t her. There were more than fifty hotels on the strip, and the odds that she might be vacationing in Las Vegas and staying at this particular hotel on the same weekend that he was here were...incalculable.
Whoever the woman was, she wasn’t Brie, and he had to stop imagining otherwise.
* * *
Brie stepped out of the water and reached for one of the thick, fluffy towels provided by the hotel.
Then her gaze lifted to his face, noted the light brown hair that showed hints of gold in the sun, the tanned skin and square jaw, the hazel eyes framed by thick lashes—eyes that seemed to be staring right into hers even through the dark lenses of the sunglasses perched on her nose.
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart actually skipped a beat before it resumed its rhythm, albeit a little harder and faster than before.
“It is you,” he said, in a low voice that was achingly familiar.
She ignored the racing of her heart and reminded herself that she wasn’t a teenager anymore. She was a twenty-five-year-old woman who could handle an unexpected encounter with a former lover without falling to pieces.
Buoyed by this quick internal pep talk, she managed to respond casually, easily. “Hello, Caleb.”
Though she couldn’t take her eyes off him, she was aware that both of her friends were avidly watching the interaction. She felt the weight of their stares—and their unspoken questions.
“I wasn’t sure it was really you at first.” He settled on the edge of her lounger, so that he could look her in the eye—despite the fact that hers were still shaded.
She was grateful for the protection, because Caleb had always been able to see too much of what she was feeling. And his sudden and unexpected appearance here had brought to the surface too many feelings that she’d thought were long forgotten—or at least deeply buried.
“I saw you waiting for the elevator earlier,” he continued, “but by the time I crossed the lobby, the doors had closed, and I decided that it couldn’t have been you, anyway.”
She didn’t know what to say to that—or if she was even capable of forming a coherent sentence. So many thoughts and questions were swirling through her mind, so many emotions battling for dominance inside her heart.
Her friends came to her rescue now, with Lily shoving her hand toward him. “I’m Lily—one of Brielle’s roommates in New York.”
Deeply ingrained manners forced him to shift his attention and accept the proffered hand. And Grace’s, too, when she followed the initial introduction with her own.
By then, Brie had recovered sufficiently from the shock of the unexpected encounter that she was able to string enough words together to say, “Caleb and I grew up together in Haven.”
“So the two of you are...old friends?” Grace guessed.
Caleb looked at Brie again, waiting for her to answer.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Old friends.”
He gave the slightest shake of his head then, as if he was disappointed by her response.
“We’re a little more than that,” he said, and though he was answering Grace’s question, his eyes never left Brie’s face.
“How much more?” Lily asked curiously.
He settled a hand on Brie’s knee, the casual gesture of a man accustomed to touching a woman.
Her breath caught in her throat as the contact caused her blood to heat and race through her veins, the effect of his touch exactly the same as it had been so many years before.
The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he registered her body’s instinctive response to the contact before she drew her leg away. Then he shifted his attention to her friends and finally responded to Lily’s question.
“Actually, Brielle is my wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Brielle said through gritted teeth.
But her short-lived marriage was a detail she’d never shared with anyone outside of her immediate family, so it was no wonder her friends were looking at her with nearly identical expressions of shock and disbelief right now.
However, it was Caleb’s focused gaze that unnerved her. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he said.
“So do we, apparently,” Grace murmured.
“I can’t believe you never told us you were married.” Lily sounded not just stunned but hurt.
And justifiably so, Brie acknowledged, as the two women had been not only her best friends but her surrogate family for the past seven years.
“It was a long time ago,” Brie told them. “And over almost before it began.”
“It was a long time ago,” Caleb agreed. “But over...well, I’d have to disagree with you on that, darlin’.”
“I’m not your darlin’,” she protested.
“Well, this might finally explain why she hardly ever goes out,” Lily remarked to Grace.
“And why she rarely goes out with the same guy more than once,” Grace added.
“That’s not true,” Brie said to her friends. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t analyze the intimate details of my love life in front of a stranger.”
“Our point is that there are no intimate details,” Grace said.
“And how can you refer to your husband as a stranger?” Lily chided.
“Ex-husband,” she said again. “And he’s a stranger to both of you.”
“Any friend of yours is a friend of ours,” Grace said, and turned to smile at Caleb. “So how far back do you and Brie go?”
“We went to school together, though I was a couple years ahead.”
“You were high school sweethearts?” Lily guessed.
“Secret high school sweethearts,” he clarified.
One of Grace’s perfectly arched brows lifted. “Why the secrecy?”
“There’s some...history between our families,” he explained. “And we knew they wouldn’t approve of our friendship—or our dating.”
“The Montagues and the Capulets,” Lily murmured, obviously recalling what Brie had told her when they were packing for this trip.
“Or the Hatfields
