A Winter Wedding. Brenda Novak

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A Winter Wedding - Brenda Novak


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because, for the next several minutes, Lourdes had to sit there and listen to Kyle feign interest in Crystal’s burgeoning music career. When he could do so without seeming too dismissive, he cut in to say he had to go if he was going to finish his article tonight, that it had been a pleasure speaking to her and he’d get back to her if he ever had the opportunity to give her some press.

      When he hung up, he rubbed a hand over his mouth. “So what do you make of that?”

      “She called back awfully fast.”

      “Derrick said she just stopped by to drop something off after we hung up.”

      Lourdes felt sick to her stomach. She wished she could believe it was the coincidence Derrick claimed, but her intuition wouldn’t allow it. “What could Crystal need to drop off that she couldn’t email?”

      Kyle shook his head.

      “What did she say?” Lourdes asked.

      “That she wanted to reach out and let me know she’d be happy to speak to me whenever. We could even have lunch. That sort of thing.”

      “Was it convincing?”

      He didn’t seem too keen on committing himself.

      “Kyle? Did you get the impression Derrick was pretending she’d suddenly shown up?”

      “That’s a tough question,” he hedged.

      She blew on her hands, which hadn’t warmed up since their journey through the storm. “Because you think they’re having an affair.”

      “Because I don’t really know!”

      “God, I hate this,” she said. “I hate feeling as if I’m being taken for a fool. And I hate feeling I can’t trust the man I love.”

      “Has he ever cheated on you before?”

      “Not that I know of. But he’s never been so preoccupied and distant, either. Never been so swept away with someone else.” He also had a history that included an extramarital affair with an intern, well before he met her, but Lourdes didn’t volunteer that information. She’d chosen to believe he’d just messed up, that he regretted it—but she understood that others might not give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was merely enamored with Crystal’s potential, as he claimed. “It doesn’t help that she’s younger, prettier and more talented than I am,” she grumbled.

      Kyle looked shocked. “She might be younger, and I’m no judge of singing talent, so I can’t weigh in there. But she couldn’t be any more beautiful.”

      It was a nice compliment. One that sounded sincere.

      Maybe if Lourdes hadn’t been so distraught, she could’ve appreciated it.

      * * *

      Kyle stared at the ceiling for at least an hour after he went to bed. He felt bad for Lourdes. Clearly, she was stumbling through that unique hell reserved for partners of the unfaithful. Can he change? Will he change? Should I give him the opportunity to change? Does he really love me—or does he love her? Kyle had discussed those questions with her at great length over the past three hours. While the snow continued to fall outside, they’d shared a bottle of pinot noir and Lourdes had told him that even though coming to Whiskey Creek had been her idea—she’d seen it as a way to withdraw from public life so she could “reset”—Derrick had promised to come with her. He’d said they’d use whatever time she didn’t spend writing to rebuild their relationship, since they’d been having so much difficulty getting along. So even if Derrick hadn’t been lying about Crystal tonight, he’d put Lourdes off and that led Kyle to believe he probably was too caught up with his new client. Hearing from Crystal so soon after calling Derrick was certainly suspect, despite Derrick’s explanation—since that explanation was flimsy at best.

      Lourdes seemed like a nice person who didn’t deserve the turmoil she was going through. But whether or not Derrick was cheating wasn’t the only thing on Kyle’s mind. Discussing her problems had forced him to face that his own life needed an overhaul. The woman he loved—had always loved—was married to his stepbrother, which created an awkward challenge whenever he saw them (and he saw them often). To make matters worse, he had an ex-wife who wouldn’t let go, who claimed she still loved him, even though, from what he remembered, she’d hated being married as much as he had. And almost all his friends were not only in committed relationships but having children, too. They’d moved on and he hadn’t. He felt lonely and shiftless whenever he wasn’t completely immersed in his work. So he worked longer and longer hours, which made it even harder to meet someone.

      He was approaching forty. If he was going to marry and have kids, he needed to do it soon. But he hadn’t met a woman who could replace Olivia—and he was beginning to fear he never would.

      His phone buzzed. Leaning up on one elbow, he squinted to see who’d texted him. It was Riley Stinson, the most recent of his close friends to find a mate.

      You still up?

      Kyle had missed a call from Riley earlier. He hadn’t gotten back to him, so although he was exhausted, he shoved himself into a sitting position.

      I am. Sorry I missed your call today. Got a tenant for the farmhouse. Been handling that. What’s up?

      Kyle wasn’t sure why he’d asked what was up. He knew what was up with Riley. After months spent trying to atone for their difficult history, Riley had finally talked Phoenix Fuller into marrying him. They’d set the date for December 30 and were planning a big wedding. It was all Riley could talk about. And, if Kyle was being honest, that made him a lot less eager to take Riley’s calls. Now that Riley was settling down, Kyle would be the only single member of their group, except for Baxter—and, as Noelle had pointed out, his relationship with Baxter wouldn’t be very conducive to meeting women.

      Instead of texting back, Riley called. “Hey, you rented the farmhouse, huh?”

      Kyle could hear the wind buffeting the trees against the house, but the worst of the storm seemed to be over. “I did,” he said as he dropped onto his pillows.

      “To who?”

      The words “Someone from Nashville” were on the tip of his tongue. That was what he planned to tell most people. But Riley was one of his best friends. He could trust Riley with his life. “Lourdes Bennett.”

      “Lourdes who?”

      “Bennett. She’s a country-western singer—sings ‘Heartbreak’ and ‘Stone Cold Lover.’”

      “That Lourdes Bennett? Are you kidding me?”

      “No, but don’t tell anyone she’s in town. She’s trying to keep a low profile.”

      “I won’t tell a soul. But if Lourdes wanted to move here, why wouldn’t she buy her own place? She’s got to have the money.”

      “This is just a short-term thing, until she finishes writing the songs for her next album.”

      “Don’t most major artists buy songs from songwriters?”

      “I’m sure some do, but I guess she prefers to come up with her own material.” He heard the toilet flush down the hall. Lourdes was still up—which didn’t surprise him. Derrick had called as they poured the last of that bottle of wine. She’d probably just finished talking to him. “Did you need something when you tried to reach me earlier?” he asked Riley.

      “Mostly I wanted to check in, see what you’ve been up to. Seems like we’ve both been so busy with work we hardly talk anymore.”

      It wasn’t because of work. It was because Riley’s private life was doing what it should and Kyle’s wasn’t. But he didn’t comment on that. No one enjoyed hearing other people complain about something they couldn’t have. “We’ll see each other tomorrow morning at Black Gold, won’t we?”

      “Yeah, I’ll be there. So will Phoenix.


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