Forever Yours, Almost. Whitmere Family Legacy Book 1

RHETT

I told myself I wouldn’t look for her. And I hadn’t for 10 excruciating years. I told myself if Sloane Hart ever came back to this town, I’d let her pass like a ghost- unacknowledged, unimportant. The way she wanted it. That lie lasted me exactly six hours.

I know she’s back here, at my family's estate grounds before anyone tells me. Albeit I knew she rolled into town in her rental at nine am sharp, from my assistant Hailey. But, aside from that, The Whitmere Hotel has a way of humming when something important walks through its doors like the walls themselves are paying attention. Tonight, the air feels tighter. Charged.

When I exit the private elevator I'd just been in, she's walking in the lobby of the Whitmere Hotel, black stiletto heels clicking softly against the marble I paid for with blood and broken knuckles. She looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine in a cream silk dress, oversized designer sunglasses, and her fiery red hair curled around her glossy and loose, confidence wrapped around her like armor.

She doesn’t see me at first. That’s worse. Because I get to watch. And then get to really see her. I don’t approach her right away. I shouldn’t approach her at all.

God help me, she’s still her. Softer in some places. Sharper in others. And the sight of her here in my hotel feels like fate rubbing salt into an old wound. She looks different. More composed, more assured, but the curve of her mouth, the way she holds herself like she’s bracing for impact… that’s the same. That’s always been her.

Instead, I quietly observe her with my arms crossed as she removes those sunglasses and places her briefcase on the floor with a thud and really takes in the space. She slowly takes in every detail in the grand foyer- the marble floors, the expansive marble check in desk, the custom mahogany ceiling with magnolias and raini etched into every crevice the craftsman could put it into, the grand mahogany sweeping staircase carpeted in plush green carpet with gold flecks, the gold and crystal chandeliers I selected myself because they reminded me of candlelight after a rainstorm. The entrance to a grand entrance to our restaurant; coined by her when we were kids- The Cobblestone Cafe. This was supposed to be a business decision- An investment. Somewhere along the way, it became a monument. To her.

“Sloane.”

She turns at the sound of my voice, and the flicker in her green eyes nearly undoes me. Those same green eyes with gold flecks throughout them. Staring into my soul. It’s not surprise. It’s Recognition. I step closer, invading her space without touching her. The scent of her- warm vanilla and something unmistakably hers, hits me low and hard. Ten years. Ten damn years, and my body reacts like no time passed at all.

“Rhett,” she says softly. Then, like she needs the distance, she straightens and steps backwards. “You came back” she lifts her chin sternly. “Looks like it.”

“You own this place.” She says. It isn’t a question. “Among other things,” I reply.

Her lips curve faintly. Not a smile. More like an acknowledgment of something she already knew. She swallows. I watch her throat move as she licks her lips. I vividly remember kissing both spots when we were too young to understand consequence.

“Figures,” she mumbles and glances away before she looks back at me. “Congratulations on your accomplishments. It’s absolutely breathtaking”

I nod once. “Welcome back to Whitmere County.” The words hang between us, heavier than they should be. “I didn’t plan to run into you so soon,” she says with a chuckle that is more nervous than anything.

That almost makes me laugh. “This is my hotel, in the business proposal you would have seen that” I say evenly. “Running into me was inevitable.”

Her jaw tightens, just slightly. There it is. the old tension, the push and pull that used to feel like breathing to us both “I’m here on business Rhett,” she says tensely. “The spa expansion. I assume you’ve seen the same proposal you speak of.”

“I have.”

“And?”

“You didn’t say goodbye,” I say quietly. Her gaze lifts to mine. Her eyes were shining with something I couldn’t exactly place. “I didn’t know how.”

I lean in, my mouth near her ear now, close enough that she inhales sharply. “You still don’t, I guarantee it,” I say. “But you’re going to learn this time .” Her breath stutters. And for the first time since she left, I know one thing for sure- She didn’t come back for nothing. She’s not here just for a business deal. She’s not just here for a Spa.

“And yes, Sloane, we'll talk about the Spa,” I say. “But not here.” I gesture toward the private elevator tucked discreetly behind the massive front desk. The one only family and executives use. Her gaze flicks to it. Hesitation flashes across her face before she swallows her breath and retrieves her briefcase. Before following behind “Of course,” she says. “Wouldn’t want the town talking.”

I step closer, lowering my voice. “They already are.” Her breath catches again. I see it. Feel it.

The elevator doors slide open, smooth and silent, and we step inside together. The space is small. Too small for everything we aren’t saying. Her perfume is soft, warm, unmistakably hers. It wraps around me like a memory I never outran. The doors close and silence stretches between us, the air so tense you could cut it with a knife.

“I didn’t leave to hurt you,” she says suddenly and no more than a whisper, staring straight ahead.

I don’t answer right away. If I do, I’ll say too much. Instead, I watch the numbers climb.

“I know,” I say finally. “Doesn’t change what it did.” She nods, like she expected that answer. Like she deserved it.

When the doors open onto the eleventh floor, I motion her toward my private office, which is located right next to my suite. I have an office along with the conference room and board room downstairs, but this feels more right for this moment. “Let’s get one thing straight,” I say as she steps inside. “Whatever history we have, it doesn't belong to the town. Or the board. Or the staff.”

Her gaze meets mine, steady and serious. “Agreed.”

I close the door behind us.

And just like that, the past isn’t outside anymore. It’s standing in my office, looking like she was dropped in from the big city- somewhere so far Oklahoma had never touched her. All 5 foot 7 inches of perfection of her was looking at me like I’m both a mistake and a memory she never stopped missing.