Tides of Trust

Book 4: Coastal Dreams

by Alexa Aston

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Small-town Romance; small town romance; small town romance series; Alexa Aston; Texas Romance; Coastal Dreams; Driftwood Bay; grieving heroine; guarded hero

Synopsis

A man who's lost himself in work. A woman learning how to heal. A love that asks them both to trust again.

Kylie Mayfield was once the golden girl of Driftwood Bay—the first in her family to go to college and the first to believe she'd escaped small-town limits. Now she's also the first to divorce. After her husband abandons her following the birth of their special needs daughter, Kylie is pushed to her breaking point by devastating loss. Returning home is not a failure—it's survival. Working for her family's charter business offers comfort, stability, and a chance to begin again.

Zane Wagner has sworn off love. Scarred by a brief, painful marriage and consumed by his career, he returns to Driftwood Bay to oversee the grand opening of Tidewater, the newest Wagner Enterprises resort. Summers spent here as a child once brought him joy—but adulthood has taught him to keep his heart firmly guarded.

When Zane and Kylie cross paths, their attraction is immediate. A business arrangement to transport Tidewater guests soon turns into something more complicated. Zane proposes a temporary, no-strings affair during his time in Texas—and to her own surprise, Kylie agrees. What begins as uncomplicated passion slowly becomes something deeper, as Zane chips away at Kylie's carefully built defenses and helps her rediscover confidence, laughter, and hope.

But when Zane makes it clear he plans to return to New York alone, old wounds reopen.

As Zane's own walls begin to crumble, he's forced to confront a truth he's long avoided: some risks are worth taking. But trust doesn't come easily to hearts that have already been broken.

Will fear and past pain wash away their chance at lasting happiness—or will Zane and Kylie find the courage to trust in love one final time?

Meet the men and women of Driftwood Bay, a Texas coastal town where neighbors know your name and couples discover a second chance at life—and love. Emotionally resonant and deeply heartfelt, Alexa Aston brings the Coastal Dreams series to a powerful close with a story about grief, trust, and the courage it takes to love again. Tides of Trust is perfect for readers who cherish small-town settings, second chances, and romances that heal as they unfold.

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Release date: August 18, 2026

Publisher: Oliver Heber Books

Sample

PROLOGUE

Dallas—Three years ago …

 

Kylie Masters was beginning to think that marrying Brady had been a mistake.

No. Not beginning to think. She finally was brave enough to acknowledge that her marriage was over—and had been for longer than she cared to admit.

She placed her hands atop her enormous baby bump and rubbed her belly protectively. Immediately, she felt a nudge back from Amy Marie. It caused her to smile, and she gently poked her belly with her index finger. Her daughter responded with a kick. For a moment, Kylie’s worries fled as she played with her unborn child, her finger nudges answered by Amy Marie’s kicks.

Her phone rang, and she answered it, saying she would come join her team in the conference room right away. She worked for an insurance firm in downtown Dallas, serving as its head of advertising. She had landed a job with the company straight out of college when she and Brady had moved to Dallas for him to attend SMU Law School. She had met her husband in a Western Civilization class. The TA had seated everyone in alphabetical order in the lecture hall. Brady was Masters and she was Mayfield, and so they had sat next to one another that semester, getting to know one another over the months of the course.

Brady was smart and as hot as a man came, and Kylie had felt herself being sucked into his orbit. They had dated for two years and then eloped to Las Vegas after their college graduation, disappointing both sets of their parents. Her mom had wanted to help plan her only daughter’s wedding, even though it would have been a simple affair, due to money always being tight in the Mayfield household, while Mrs. Masters seemed to believe that eloping had been Kylie’s idea, when Brady had driven that decision. Mrs. Masters had blamed her daughter-in-law ever since, being cold and distant any time they were in each other’s company. No matter what Kylie did, Gwendolyn Masters seemed destined to never forgive Kylie for robbing her of a moment to shine as the mother of the groom.

Maybe the baby would soften the older woman’s stance. Then again, she hadn’t even bothered to attend the baby shower Kylie’s colleagues at work had given in her honor, despite the fact that the Masters lived in a Dallas suburb.

Kylie left her office and started down the hall when an odd wave swept through her. She stopped, feeling something trickle down her leg. Though her due date was five days away and this was to be her final day at work, she knew babies came on their own time schedule.

The trickle grew stronger, and within seconds, a puddle of water rested between her feet.

She went to the nearest desk and said, “Would you please call for a janitor to clean that up?” Kylie pointed to the wet spot on the carpet.

The admin glanced to the floor and back to Kylie, her eyes wide. “Are you in labor?”

She couldn’t help but grin. “Apparently so. My water just broke. No labor pains yet, but I know they’ll be coming.”

Kylie went to the conference room and quietly told her boss what had happened, saying, “I’ll be leaving work immediately.”

“Keep us posted,” he said genially.

Returning to her office, she quickly texted Brady, telling him that her water had broken and he needed to pick her up so they could leave for the hospital. She had read numerous books about pregnancy and knew that once a woman’s water broke, the chances of infection grew significantly. She wanted to get to a sterile environment so she could protect her baby. Already, that mama bear instinct was kicking in.

Next, she called her doctor’s office and spoke to the receptionist, who told her to head to the hospital.

“Usually, we have you wait at home until your labor pains are closer together,” the receptionist said. “I’ll let Dr. Blankenship know that your water has broken, though. Once you’ve checked into the hospital and been evaluated, they’ll send a status report to us. Dr. B will arrive in plenty of time for the birth of your baby. Congratulations, Mrs. Masters. You’re going to enjoy parenthood so much.”

Kylie thanked the woman and hung up, antsy that Brady hadn’t texted her back. He didn’t like her to call him at work, but this qualified as an emergency. She called his cell, and it went straight to voicemail, so she dialed his office number next.

“Law Office,” the firm’s receptionist said. “How may I direct your call?”

“Would you please connect me with Brady Masters?” she asked. “This is his wife.”

“One moment, Mrs. Masters,” the receptionist said cheerfully.

The phone began to ring just as Kylie felt the first twinge. Excited, she looked at her watch, noting the time of the first, very mild contraction.

“Mr. Master’s office,” his assistant said.

“It’s Kylie, Janice. I’m trying to reach Brady.”

“He’s … out of the office, Kylie. I can have him call you when he returns. Would you like to leave a message?”

She couldn’t help but feel perturbed. Brady hadn’t mentioned any meetings away from the office this morning. He was working on a settlement regarding a workman’s comp claim and had told her he would be working on depositions on that case all day. Maybe the injured party wasn’t physically able to meet at the office, and Brady had to go to the client instead.

“I’m heading to the hospital because my water broke,” she informed the assistant. “Please tell him to meet me there as soon as possible.”

“I … I’ll do that right away, Kylie, but this was a pretty important meeting. I’m sure he’ll get there as soon as he can.”

Swallowing her disappointment, Kylie said thank you and hung up. She sat a moment, collecting her thoughts.

Was there really an important meeting?

Lately, she had the suspicion that Brady might be cheating on her. She had even voiced her concerns to him, but he had told her it was hormonal paranoia, brushing the idea aside. It bothered her that he had never denied her accusation, but by the time she realized that, it seemed too awkward to bring it up again.

He had been gone large chunks of the day when he was in law school, either in class or in study groups. Kylie had known how demanding law school was, and she had dived into work to occupy her time, as well as joining a book club and doing volunteer work at an animal shelter. She hadn’t minded paying to put him through law school, knowing once he got a job at a law firm that they would be able to buy a house and start a family.

Brady now worked for a prestigious firm in North Dallas, and she had hoped they would see more of one another and rekindle the sparks which seemed to have gone out of their marriage. Unfortunately, her husband’s first year at the firm saw him putting in ninety hours a week. He told her that wasn’t out of the ordinary when she’d questioned him. Kylie even googled it and found out that was common for first-year associates. Brady was finishing his second year at the firm, though, and his hours hadn’t changed. It seemed she rarely spoke to her husband, much less saw him in person. She felt as if she’d gone through this entire pregnancy by herself.

The only appointment Brady had gone to with her was at twenty weeks, when they found out the baby’s gender. When the tech told them that the sonogram revealed the baby to be a girl, Kylie’s heart sang. She immediately envisioned the fairy tales she would read to their daughter, helping her dress up in Disney Princess gowns. She could see her little girl cheering on the sidelines at football games, just as Kylie herself had done.

Brady’s reaction was the total opposite. He had mumbled something to the tech and left the examination room. Kylie had cleaned the gel from her belly and dressed, finding him in the corridor, pacing. He had been blunt, telling her that he had wanted a boy and that he was disappointed with this news. It had caused all her joy to deflate faster than a balloon. From that moment on, Brady hadn’t cared about the baby.

Or her.

Kylie had been the one to purchase the crib and put it together. She had decorated the entire nursery without any help from Brady. Any time she brought up the baby, he quickly changed the subject.

Then he started coming home even later than usual, and her suspicions had grown. How could she be so happy about giving birth to this baby and yet be so despondent over the state of her marriage?

Her gut told her that Brady wouldn’t be coming to pick her up at work. They still only owned one car, and he took it to work every day, leaving her to ride DART downtown to her job. She pulled up her rideshare app, melancholy filling her at the thought that a stranger would be taking her to the hospital.

Sandy appeared in her doorway. “I hear your water broke,” her friend said excitedly. “Why are you still here?”

“I can’t reach Brady. He’s in some meeting offsite and can’t be reached.” She deliberately kept her voice neutral, not wanting to air any grievances regarding her marriage.

Understanding dawned on Sandy’s face. “Then I’ll take you to the hospital. Grab your stuff. Let’s go!”

She opened her bottom desk drawer and pulled out her purse, leaving her office. Sandy stopped by her assistant’s desk and told her where she would be, and the two women went downstairs to the parking garage.

Once they were in the car, Kylie said, “Thank you for taking me to the hospital.” She grimaced slightly. “There’s another contraction.”

“Brady will get there in time,” Sandy assured her breezily. “First babies take a long time to arrive. And since I’m head of HR, I’ll make sure the paperwork starts today regarding your maternity leave. This is so exciting, Kylie. You’re going to be meeting Amy Marie soon!”

When Brady had resisted any attempt for them to choose a name together, Kylie took it upon herself to select their daughter’s name. Amy and Marie were the names of her two grandmothers, and she thought they sounded beautiful together. Of course, Gwendolyn Masters would be upset that the baby wasn’t named for her, but Kylie was done with trying to please her antagonizing mother-in-law.

They reached the hospital, and Sandy parked, insisting on going inside with Kylie. They stopped at the registration desk. Thankfully, she had done online preregistration, so she only had to answer a few questions before a nurse appeared with a wheelchair.

Kylie took a seat in it and looked to Sandy. “Thank you again for all you’ve done.”

“Text me when Amy Marie is here,” Sandy said and waved goodbye.

The nurse rolled her to a bank of elevators, asking about Kylie’s contractions. She was taken to one of the rooms which was multi-purpose. She would do both labor and delivery in this room. That is, if no complications occurred.

She was examined by an OB resident, telling the resident that she had last eaten at breakfast, around six-fifteen this morning.

“Just ice chips from here on out,” the resident told her. “Will your husband be here soon? Or partner?”

“I’ve tried to reach him. Hopefully, he’s on his way now.”

Not that Brady would be much good. He had skipped the prenatal classes, as well as those where Kylie and other expectant mothers had worked on their breathing. She had been the only one in the class without a partner and caught the pitying glances from others.

Once the resident left, Kylie dug her cell phone from her purse and called Brady, angry when it went to voicemail again.

“I’m at the hospital now, no thanks to you. You need to get here now, Brady. I don’t care what meeting you’re in or what case you’re working on. This is the birth of our first child. Don’t miss it.”

She hung up, her thoughts going places they shouldn’t. That wasn’t good for the baby. Instead, Kylie began breathing slowly in and out, trying to calm herself.

Her contractions increased over the next several hours, with the resident checking her progress frequently. When she was dilated to a seven, the resident said, “I’ll let Dr. Blankenship know you’re getting close, Kylie. You’re doing great. Keep hanging in there.”

The woman gave her a sympathetic smile, and she knew it was because Brady had yet to appear.

If only her parents weren’t so far away. Driftwood Bay seemed a million miles from Dallas at this moment. Kylie felt a wave of homesickness wash over her. She had grown up in a Texas coastal town and was always happiest near the water. She’d hoped one day to return to the Bay. Marrying Brady changed all that, however. He wanted to be an attorney who raked in a huge salary and lived in a big house, driving the latest sports car.

When they had bought their first house after he’d been with his law firm for a year, she had thought four thousand square feet to be way too much. They still hadn’t furnished many of the rooms in the house. Brady had said he wanted a professional interior designer to decorate it, and they didn’t come cheap. He had hired someone who had furnished the great room, dining room, and their bedroom. All the other rooms in the house stood vacant, except for the nursery. Kylie insisted that she would take care of decorating it, and she’d gone with a Noah’s ark theme, with a mural on the wall of the ark and pairs of animals on all the walls.

How many women in the middle of a contraction contemplated divorce?

That was exactly what she was thinking as the strong pain rippled through her. Her husband seemed to have no interest in their daughter and little interest in Kylie herself. He had changed so much since they had first begun dating in college. His head had been turned by money, prestige, and power, while she valued relationships and family above all else.

Dr. Blankenship came into the room. “How is my favorite mama-to-be?” he asked.

“You say that to all expecting mothers,” she teased back, pushing aside all thought of Brady so she could concentrate on Amy Marie’s impending arrival.

“Let me have a look, Kylie.”

The OB checked her. “Just past nine centimeters. We’re going to be having a baby very soon.” Then he frowned. “Did Brady step out? If so, text him to get back here pronto.”

Even though her husband had come to none of her appointments with this physician, her doctor still knew Brady’s name. That was the kind of man she wished she had married. One who was caring and nurturing.

“He’s not here,” she said flatly. “I left numerous messages. I haven’t heard back from him.”

Dr. Blankenship took her hand in his. Concern filled his eyes. “I’m here for you, Kylie. We’ll get this done together. You aren’t alone.”

Another contraction came, and her previous low moans shifted in volume and intensity. She felt something odd in her belly and bit her lip. Her gaze met her OB’s.

“Something isn’t right,” she got out, severe abdominal pain crashing into her. The contraction didn’t let up. It only grew in intensity and became constant, even as the fetal heart rate monitor began to sound shrilly.

Immediately, Dr. Blankenship sprang into action and examined her again, then he barked succinct orders at the nurse. Something about preparing an OR.

“But I’m supposed to have the baby here,” she protested weakly, the sharp pain cranking up, causing her to scream in agony.

“Kylie, the baby is in fetal distress. Your uterine wall has torn open. We need to hurry and get the baby out and operate to stop your bleeding. You’re both in danger.”

She couldn’t reply because the pain now overwhelmed her. Kylie knew she sounded like an animal in the wild, but she couldn’t help it.

Staff appeared and rolled her from the room, heading for the elevators. She realized they had just passed Brady and heard him call, “Hey, wait a minute.”

Her vision was clouded by pain, and the next thing she knew, she was in an operating room, the harsh, bright lights causing her to squint. A tent had been erected at her waist, shielding her from the doctors working on her, and she had no idea what was going on.

Suddenly, Brady appeared next to her.

“I’m here,” he said.

Kylie looked up, seeing him wearing a hospital gown and hairnet, thinking he would be horrified if he looked in a mirror and caught sight of himself.

“Take her hand,” one of the nurses demanded. “Comfort her.”

His hand enveloped hers, and she gripped it tightly, agony flooding her.

“Ow!” Brady said, shaking her loose.

She couldn’t help it. Kylie began laughing hysterically. Here she had done all the heavy lifting all these months, and now she felt her body was being ripped apart, yet Brady complained that she had held his hand too tightly.

Kylie was done. She would ask for a divorce as soon as they were alone and she could speak coherently.

She couldn’t remember much after that. She heard a baby’s weak cry and hoped all was well. A nurse said something to her, but Kylie was beyond understanding by that point. Darkness enveloped her.

When she came to, she was in a hospital room. Had she passed out from the pain? Or had they given her anesthesia? Most likely, the second, because she felt groggy, her mouth dry as a desert, her head pounding with a dull ache. She glanced around the room, spying Brady sleeping on a nearby sofa.

Then a nurse appeared, a bundle in her arms. Kylie’s heart leaped, knowing her daughter was inside that blanket. Her daughter. Not theirs. She already knew Brady would be an absentee father if she stayed married to him. It would be up to her to do all the work of raising Amy Marie, so she might as well cut ties with him and do it on her own.

The nurse said, “Dr. Blankenship and Dr. Peters will be here in a few minutes. They want to speak with you and your husband. In the meantime, please leave your baby swaddled in her blanket for her safety.”

Kylie thought that odd, but she nodded. She felt so weak and dizzy, but the moment the nurse placed Amy Marie in her arms, strength poured through her. She gazed down at this perfect child, love bursting from her.

This was what motherhood felt like. Pure love and joy. Yes, there would be crying when her baby was hungry or tired or not feeling well. Conquering stubbornness as she became a toddler. Arguments over when she could get a phone or how old she had to be in order to date or when she could drive a car. But now, in this moment, a powerful bond formed between Kylie and her girl, one which would never be broken.

“I love you, my precious Amy Marie,” she said softly, kissing the baby’s brow.

Then her daughter opened her eyes, causing Kylie to fall even more in love with her. At the same time, something seemed … different.

It came to her. The almond-shaped eyes which slanted upward. The tiny nose. A wave of emotion swept through her.

Amy Marie had Down syndrome.

And it didn’t make a bit of difference to Kylie.

It would to Brady, though. He was obsessed with looks. He had joked with her when they were first dating, telling her that she should marry him because they would have amazingly beautiful children. She had laughed at the time—but she’d never forgotten his words. Now that he was so into money and appearance, wanting them to have the perfect house and the perfect marriage, this darling infant wouldn’t fit his idea of the perfect baby.

Maybe he would let her go more easily because of it.

“Hi, Amy Marie,” she said softly, her tiny daughter blinking as she stared at Kylie. “I’m your mom. I will love you fiercely. I will protect you. I will be your champion. Always.”

A light tap sounded at the door, and her OB and Amy Marie’s pediatrician entered the room, concern on both their faces.

Dr. Blankenship looked to where Brady slept and said, “I’m going to wake him.” He walked to the sofa and clasped her husband’s shoulder. “Wake up, Mr. Masters.”

Brady yawned sleepily and sat up, eyeing the two doctors warily. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re here to talk with you and your wife about today,” Dr. Blankenship said.

Brady glanced to her and the baby but kept his seat.

Dr. Blankenship said, “Kylie, you suffered a serious complication at the end of your labor. Your uterine wall ruptured in what we call a complete rupture. Your uterus is a muscular organ composed of several layers of tissue. It grows and supports your baby as it develops. While uterine rupture isn’t common, it’s a serious medical complication, threatening the life of both you and your baby.”

“So, that’s why my stomach hurt so much?” she asked.

“Yes,” Dr. Blankenship replied. “Essentially, this tear created a hole in your uterus and abdomen. It resulted in severe blood loss. Suddenly, your baby didn’t have the protection your uterus offered, and she went into fetal distress. Her heart rate began to slow, and she wasn’t getting any oxygen.”

“No oxygen?” Brady interjected. “That means … what? Brain damage?” He didn’t bother to hide a look of disgust.

“It can,” the OB said. “That’s why we had to get Kylie into surgery ASAP to remove the baby so that she wouldn’t suffocate. We also had to repair Kylie’s uterus.” He smiled at her. “Your stomach is going to be very sore. You can’t lift anything heavy for a few weeks, nothing beyond a couple of pounds, but you didn’t suffer any long-term consequences. I’ll go over everything with you in detail, as well as provide you with written instructions. Things such as no stairs or exercise. No sitting in baths. Showers only. Nothing placed inside your vagina, which means no tampons.”

Dr. Blankenship turned to Brady. “And no sex.”

Her husband glared at the OB.

“What about … more children?” she quietly asked. “Will this keep me from having another baby?”

“No, it shouldn’t. You did nothing wrong, Kylie,” the doctor assured her. “Sometimes, this just happens, and there’s no reason we can attribute to it. You should have no trouble becoming pregnant in the future. What I would strongly advise you to do is schedule a C-section, however. A vaginal birth could result in a tearing of the uterine wall again. Other than that, after resting adequately, you should heal with no problems. I know Dr. Peters will agree with me that you’ll need to hire help in caring for the baby since you won’t be able to lift her for a couple of weeks.”

She glanced down at Amy Marie, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“If you don’t have any further questions, I’ve got another patient I need to see. I’ll stop by tomorrow morning on rounds and see how you’re doing.”

“Thank you, Dr. Blankenship. For saving me and Amy Marie.”

“Anytime,” he said, smiling at her before exiting the hospital room.

Dr. Peters cleared her throat. “I’d like to talk to you about Amy Marie now.” She paused. “Have you noticed anything unusual, Kylie?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “She has Down syndrome, doesn’t she?”

“What?” Brady roared, jumping to his feet and stepping toward her bed. He looked down at the baby, and Kylie saw him recoil. Then he looked at her accusingly. “What the hell did you do to cause this to happen?”

“Your wife did nothing to contribute to this,” the pediatrician said sharply. “Neither did you, Mr. Masters. No behavioral activity or environmental factor is known to cause Down syndrome. It’s simply when a person has an extra copy of chromosome twenty-one. This extra chromosome changes how a fetus’ body and brain develop in utero.”

Brady looked down at Amy Marie, revulsion on his face. He backed away, bumping into the sofa and sitting on it, pushing his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated.

“Amy Marie will have developmental challenges,” Dr. Peters continued, looking at Kylie. “She’ll be slower in hitting her milestones, from crawling and walking to talking. She may develop health problems down the road, such as hearing loss or congenital heart defects, but many babies with Down syndrome grow to adulthood and lead satisfying lives.”

“No,” Brady said, shaking his head as he came to his feet. “I didn’t sign up for this. Any of this.” He looked at Kylie. “You can’t make me be a father to … that.”

Anger poured through her, and she went into full mama bear mode, though she knew to maintain her composure.

“I don’t want you as a husband or father to my baby. Things were shaky for us before, Brady, but it’s obvious you do not want to be around Amy Marie. I think it best that we file for divorce. I’ll contact a lawyer. You should do the same.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ll be filing the moment I walk out of here,” he said. “And we have a real shark at my law firm. She’ll make mincemeat of whoever you hire.”

With that, her husband walked out of her life—and Amy Marie’s.

Calmy, she met Dr. Peters’ gaze. “I’m fully prepared to manage on my own. What’s the first thing I need to know about my daughter?”

The pediatrician ignored what had just occurred and carried on as if everything were perfectly normal.

“Let’s talk neck muscles. Down babies have hypotonia, which is low muscle tone, and their necks can appear floppy to the rest of us. You’ll need to take great care when you hold Amy Marie, Kylie. Right now, though, she’s exhibiting no heart defects although these can manifest quickly in an infant with Down Syndrome. I have high hopes that she’ll remain healthy.”

“I hope so,” Kylie said, a sudden calm blanketing her.

Once she filed for divorce and healed, she was going to return home. To Driftwood Bay. And raise her baby with the love and help of her family.

 

 

CHAPTER 1

New York—June

 

When Zane Wagner got out of bed, he felt all of his thirty-four years. Although he was in superb physical condition, thanks to his training and participation in several triathlons and marathons, he hadn’t worked out during the past three days. He had been cramming in last-minute meetings in Singapore and then traveling across who knew how many time zones to reach New York last night.

As he shuffled to the bathroom, he told himself he would go into work this morning and leave by noon. That this afternoon would be his gift to himself. He would do a long run through Central Park and then follow up by swimming laps at his athletic club. He had no international travel scheduled for at least a month, and he would devote some time to his physical and mental well-being.

He stepped into the shower, letting the hot water sluice down his sculpted body, thinking about how nice it would be to be back in Driftwood Bay. His dad’s hometown on the Texas Gulf Coast, where his grandparents lived and still operated the Driftwood Diner, was his next stop. Zane had spent a month every summer with his grandparents while he was growing up, and he still tried to see them at least once a year. They had taken to technology, so he was able to FaceTime with them once a month, catching up on all the news in the Bay, as the residents fondly referred to the small town.

His best friend was in the Bay at the moment, staying with Zane’s grandparents. Sullivan Shepherd was one of the leading architects at Wagner Enterprises, the company Zane’s father had started years ago, and one which Zane and Sullivan had worked for ever since college graduation. Sullivan had designed Tidewater, a luxury beach resort, located on an island a couple of miles offshore from the town of Driftwood Bay.

Something was up with Sullivan, though, and Zane hoped he would figure it out when he finally saw his friend in person. After Sullivan traveled to the site that Wagner Enterprises would build a project upon, he came up with his design for the establishment, incorporating aspects of the local area into the blueprints. Once construction began, Sullivan would again journey to whatever property was being built and spend time with the construction manager, answering questions and making certain everything was clear. Then he was off to another project.

This time had been different.

Sullivan had been in Driftwood Bay for months now, going back to last fall. He had returned briefly to New York during the Christmas holidays, but then he’d headed back to Texas. Sullivan had been given permission to work from the Bay instead of corporate headquarters in Manhattan, and Zane wanted to know what was keeping his friend in Texas. They shared an apartment which overlooked Central Park and was within walking distance of Wagner Enterprises. Though Zane himself traveled extensively, he had always enjoyed coming back and spending time with his closest friend, who was more brother than friend to him. Their fathers had been friends since college, and their sons had grown up as best friends, as well, attending boarding school and college together.

Zane had a sneaking suspicion that a woman was involved. If that were the case, he would warn Sullivan off. Marrying a girl from a small town and trying to have her fit into New York society would be a disaster. Not that Zane should be giving advice regarding marriage. Four years ago, his own had failed epically.

He pushed all thoughts of Amanda aside as he shaved and dressed for the day. He texted Emily, his assistant, letting her know he would be in the office until noon, and then he set out on foot.

It was good to be back in New York again. He thrived on the energy he felt in the streets. New York had a vitality to it, unlike any other city in the world, and Zane couldn’t imagine making anywhere but New York his home. He would talk to Emily to make sure she arranged his schedule so that he would be back in town this fall in order to run in the New York Marathon. He had missed competing last year because of business in South America, but Zane wanted to participate this year. Emily would manage everything for him. She was the most efficient executive assistant at Wagner Enterprises, and she handled his professional and personal schedules with ease.

Zane greeted the security guard as he entered the building and went to the elevators, riding up dozens of floors owned by Wagner Enterprises. The doors opened on the top floor, and he made his way to his office.

Emily greeted him, handing him a large coffee mug, and he thanked her as she followed him into his office, tablet in hand. The space was smaller than most executives at his level, but he was gone so much that he had insisted that he take this area instead of a corner office with a spectacular view. Zane thought it only right to allow someone who was in town most of the time to have those offices since they would be around to enjoy them.

He sat in the chair behind his desk, sipping his coffee, as Emily went over what he needed to know after his long absence.

“Your tickets for tomorrow’s flights to Houston and then Corpus have been arranged,” she said crisply. “I didn’t book a car, as you requested.”

“I won’t need one,” he assured her. “I’ll stay a couple of days in town with Gran and Gramps and then take the ferry over to Tidewater. We have a fleet of golf carts there. I can use one to go anywhere on the island. I’ll let Sullivan know I’m coming, and he can pick me up from the airport. We’re long overdue for a catch up.”

Then he asked, “Do you know when the New York Marathon is being held? I’d like to run this year.”

“Already sent in your application.” She gave him the date. “Your calendar is cleared for the week before and two days after.”

“So, I only get two days of recovery before you send me back on the road?” he teased.

“You get what I give you. By the way, I’ve booked time with Mr. Wagner for you at ten o’clock in his office,” Emily told him. “Just half an hour for the two of you to touch base and you to let him know about everything regarding Singapore, face-to-face.”

“Is that it as far as any appointments go for today?” he asked.

She gave him an odd look. “Not exactly. You have one brief meeting with James in thirty minutes to go over the final ads for Tidewater.” Emily cleared her throat. “Then Harris asked for some time with you at eleven-thirty.”

“Why the hell would Harris want to see me?” he asked, surprise filling him.

Harris Wagner was his brother, younger by two years, and the biggest asshole Zane knew. He had the title Ambassador-at-Large, but Zane knew his brother simply flitted between Wagner resorts and hotels around the world. Harris reminded Zane of a politician. Charming. Always pressing the flesh with a smile.

And as sleazy as they came.

“Harris didn’t let me know what was on the agenda,” Emily said. “He did stress that it was important that the two of you speak in person, though.”

“Fine. Make sure he comes here. I don’t want to go to him,” Zane said flatly.

“I anticipated that, Zane,” she said a hint of a smile playing around her lips. “He’ll be here at eleven-thirty.”

Zane snorted. “If he makes it by eleven-forty, I’ll be surprised. Harris has never been on time for anything his entire life. If he hasn’t shown up by a quarter till noon, I’m out of here.”

“Anything else?” Emily asked, rising from her chair, not bothering to bite back her smile now.

“No, that’ll do it.” Then he paused. “Anything you need to let me know about?”

Zane had noticed the ring on her finger, and Emily held her hand out, smiling down at it.

“Ted and I are engaged, as you obviously noticed.”

He came around from behind his desk and embraced her. “That’s fantastic, Em. Do you have a date set?”

“Since we’ve been dating five years, I told Ted we’re not having a lengthy engagement,” Emily said, laughing. “He knows I want something small—and soon.”

“Do you have a venue in mind?”

“No. This just happened last night, so we need to talk about a lot of things. Actually, I’ll plan it, and he’ll merely show up.”

“Well, after all, you’re the most organized person on the planet, while Ted is what I’d call an absent-minded professor.”

Ted Hartnett was a political philosophy professor at Barnard, and his head was in the clouds half the time. Still, Zane had met Ted on numerous occasions and really liked him.

“I’m happy for you, Em. If you want to hold the wedding at any Wagner property of your choice, book it now. I’ll pay for everything.”

Surprised filled her face. “Oh, Zane, I can’t let you do that.”

Knowing both her parents were gone and that she only had a distant aunt whom she rarely saw, Zane said, “You’re family to me, Em. I want to do this for you and Ted.”

She beamed at him. “If you’re serious, I’m going to get on the stick and plan it right away. How about around Labor Day? Or even before. Is that good for you?”

He shrugged. “You’re the one who knows my schedule better than I do. Besides, if I’m supposed to be gone during that time, just rearrange my calendar. You run my life as it is. I just go where you say and do what you tell me to do.” Zane grinned. “No one knows you’re the actual power in our power couple.”

Emily laughed in delight. “Then I’m starting wedding planning right away.” She grew serious. “Really, thank you, Zane. It means the world to me to not only work for the best boss in the world, but to have your friendship.”

Then her demeanor once again became businesslike. “I’ll send in James when he gets here. You have about ten minutes before he arrives.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you keeping me on my toes,” Zane said.

He met with James, looking over the ad campaign and giving his final approval regarding the Tidewater campaign. Although this kind of decision could easily have ended with James, people within Wagner Enterprises often came to him for approval of many items. One day, he would take over the conglomerate, and he knew others not only respected his opinion but wanted to build rapport and goodwill with Zane before Alexander Wagner chose to step down and hand the reins over to his firstborn son. Zane didn’t see that happening anytime soon, though. At sixty-five, Dad was still vibrant and at the top of his game.

Going to his dad’s office now, he was greeted with a bear hug. Alexander Wagner might travel in lofty circles, but he’d never lost his down-home charm and didn’t bother to hide his Texas roots, though after years in New York, his Texas drawl was faint.

“Good to have you back, son,” Dad said. “How long are you in town? Want to grab dinner this evening to celebrate your birthday yesterday?”

“Dinner would be great. Want me to pick up some Chinese takeout?” he asked, knowing that was his dad’s weakness.

“Sure you don’t want to head out for a steak dinner and celebrate?”

“Nope. Just you and me and the quiet of home sounds good.”

“Then count me in. My place. Seven.”

“As for my time in New York, I’m leaving tomorrow morning for Driftwood Bay. I’ll stay with Gran and Gramps and then be at Tidewater, going over everything with a fine-tooth comb.”

“Sullivan’s still there, right?” Dad asked.

“He is. He did leave to go up to Vancouver recently to look over the land the new hotel and business conference center will be built on. He’s been working on the blueprints for that, as well as overseeing construction at Tidewater.”

“Tell Mom and Dad hello for me. Maybe I can make it down to Texas soon. Now, let’s sit and talk Singapore.”

They spoke for twenty minutes, Zane updating not his dad, but the CEO and President of Wagner Enterprises. He was able to satisfactorily answer all Alexander Wagner’s tough questions and received a smile of approval for all his hard work on the company’s behalf.

“You’re going to make for a fine head of the company someday, son,” Dad said with pride.

“What about Harris?” he asked bluntly. “How do you think he’s going to respond with me being placed in charge?”

They had never spoken of his brother’s role in the company, much less what would happen after Dad stepped down.

Dad shrugged. “Harris is always going to be Harris.”

Truer words had never been spoken. Zane’s mom had left when he was two, taking newborn Harris with her. Natalie Wagner said she had grown tired of the lack of attention her husband showed her, claiming his mistress was Wagner Enterprises. She wanted a divorce since she believed her husband’s loyalties—and priorities—would always be his company. She left Zane with his father, saying their older son was a peace offering for allowing her to leave the marriage. The custody arraignment had Zane going to stay with her every other weekend, but Natalie—as he thought of her—was rarely home during his visits to her lavish apartment.

By the time he was eight, he asked Dad if he had to go see her anymore. They wound up before a judge, and Zane pulled out his piece of paper, going over all the points why he no longer wanted to spend time at Natalie’s place. Even though he was well below the age of making that kind of decision, the judge had agreed with him.

It hadn’t really mattered. Natalie had never mothered him. The rare occasions she was present on the weekends he visited, she blatantly favored Harris, a child who could do no wrong in her eyes. Harris was a brat from the beginning, and it had been hell on earth when Natalie died in a skiing accident in Gstaad and Harris came to live with Zane and their father. Zane had been twelve at the time, Harris ten, and they had been mortal enemies ever since. Within the first two years, Harris had been kicked out of four different private schools, and that was only the beginning of the Harris Troubles, as Zane thought of those years. Harris drank like a fish and was a heroin addict by fourteen. His teenage years had been spent in and out of rehab. Zane had as little as possible to do with his brother.

Finally, at twenty-four, a doctor convinced Harris he was going to die if he didn’t clean up his act. Somehow, Harris managed to go straight and remain drug-free. Though he never finished college, he demanded a position at Wagner Enterprises, which Dad had given to him because he wanted his younger son to have a stable life, with a job and decent income. While Zane knew Harris still drank socially, he didn’t think his brother had resumed using drugs. Now, Harris hobnobbed with people as he hopscotched around the world as the ambassador-at-large for the family business.

“Harris knows you’re destined to take the top spot,” Dad assured him. “I’ll need your promise, though, that you’ll keep him on the payroll.”

Zane eyed his father steadily. “Dad, all he does is travel the world. Sucks up to people. Attends parties.”

“Harris has made a difference on more occasions than you’re aware of, Zane. He does a lot of backroom negotiating and has sealed more than a few deals. You need to give him credit where credit is due. I expect you to keep him on in the position he now holds. Will he ever be the kind of guy who can put in forty or fifty hours a week behind a desk? No, and we both know that. Harris has a lot of charm and personality, however. Let him do what he does best.”

“If you say so,” Zane said glumly, knowing he’d never be able to shed this particular albatross hanging around his neck. “By the way, Harris asked Emily to place him on my calendar today before I leave for Texas. Do you know what that’s about?”

“Nope. Could be one of many things, son. I’m not close enough with him to know much about Harris personally.”

“Well, I doubt this is personal,” Zane said, chuckling. “Since I have no relationship with him beyond the company, it has to be work-related.”

“I’ll see you at seven tonight,” Dad said. “Be sure to bring sesame chicken.”

Grinning, he said, “I know it’s your favorite, Dad. Later.”

Zane returned to his office and then attacked the stack of phone messages Emily had left for him. She was good about forwarding information to him while he was on the road, talking with her multiple times daily, but these were calls that hadn’t been high priority. He worked his way through the stack and finished the last call just before eleven-thirty.

A knock sounded on his door, and Emily opened it. “Harris is here to see you, Zane.”

He glanced at his watch, his gaze meeting hers. She shrugged, shaking her head, as if she couldn’t believe Harris Wagner had arrived on time for an appointment.

“Please, send him in.”

His brother breezed into the office, dressed in a suit which would cost most professionals several months’ pay. While Zane had gotten his genes from his father, Harris was the male version of Natalie Wagner. He had golden blond hair and brown eyes and was an inch under six feet. He worked out regularly, usually playing tennis or pickleball.

Zane didn’t bother to rise. He merely held out a hand, indicating the chair in front of his desk.

Harris took it. “Nice to see you, big brother.”

“Is it?” he asked. Keeping his tone even, he added, “What do you need, Harris? I’m heading out the door soon, so please make this quick.”

“I’m getting married.”

It was the last thing Zane would have expected Harris to say. Then a sense of dread filled him.

“You don’t want me to serve as your best man, do you?”

Harris laughed. “No. That never occurred to me.” He sobered. “But I did want to give you a heads up.”

When Harris remained silent, Zane pressed. “Why? I know nothing about you. When and where it takes place doesn’t concern me because I’m not expecting an invitation.” He paused. “Or do you want me to make nice and show up?”

“I don’t want you there at all,” Harris said flatly.

This was more like the Harris he knew. They had despised each other before his little brother could even talk. Nothing would ever change that.

“Spill,” he said.

“I thought you should know. I’m marrying Amanda.”

Zane felt as if he’d been gut-punched. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. And then anger permeated every inch of him.

“What?” he shouted, leaping to his feet.

“Sit,” Harris said calmly. “Don’t make a scene. It’s not like you.”

Reluctantly, Zane sat again, his mind racing. He had never spoken to anyone other than Sullivan about the end of his marriage. Not even Dad knew what had happened between Amanda and him, so Harris wouldn’t know she was a lying, two-faced bitch.

“I’d advise against it,” he said succinctly. “Amanda isn’t what she appears to be.”

Harris laughed. “Coming from the man who filed for divorce after three months of marriage.”

“That was two months and twenty-nine days later than I should have.” He hesitated. “Seriously, Harris. I’m not one to tell you what to do, but you really need to think long and hard about tying yourself to Amanda.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve already seen an attorney. There’s a strong pre-nup in place. I just thought you should know about our plans.”

Zane realized he could have talked from now through eternity, enumerating the reasons why his little brother shouldn’t marry such a viper, but Harris was as headstrong as Natalie had been. And who knew what Amanda had told her fiancé? She poisoned everything she touched. Might as well let them marry and have Harris discover everything on his own.

His voice neutral, he said, “I’d wish you well, but I don’t think it’ll last.”

Harris met his gaze. “I know what I’m getting, Zane. Amanda isn’t perfect. She’s got plenty of flaws, but then so do I. We’re both smart and attractive. We have no secrets from one another.”

He couldn’t help but wonder if Amanda had confessed her infidelity to Zane and decided he just didn’t care.

“Do what you want, Harris. You always have.”

“I thought I owed it to you. Don’t want you reading about it anywhere or running into someone who mentioned it and you not knowing about our marriage.”

“Thank you for your consideration,” he said stiffly.

Harris rose. “We’re getting married the second Saturday of July at her parents’ estate in Newport. Honeymooning throughout Europe. It’ll be a mixture of business and pleasure. Amanda will accompany me to social events I’ll attend for Wagner Enterprises.”

“Does Dad know?”

“I’m heading to tell him right now. Just thought my big brother needed the heads up first. After all, Amanda was your first wife. Ever going to have a second one, Zane?”

The way Harris asked it, Zane decided Amanda had probably told Harris everything about her marriage to Zane.

“I don’t plan on it,” he said flatly.

His brother smiled like the Cheshire Cat. “Next time you see me, I’ll be a married man. And I do hope when the occasion comes and Amanda and I run into you, we can all be civil adults.”

Harris left his office, and Zane sat, totally deflated.

On one hand, he was glad he wouldn’t be invited and expected to play nice at his ex-wife’s wedding to his brother. At the same time, he wouldn’t be able to avoid Amanda entirely. Since Amanda had the morals of an alley cat, he fully expected she would move on from Harris. In fact, she was probably marrying him just to open Zane’s old wounds. Once she’d had her fun, she’d leave Harris. He had no intentions of picking up the pieces left of his brother.

Zane’s brief marriage to Amanda had soured him on women and relationships. The thought of opening up again, being vulnerable—even loving someone—caused a sick feeling to wash over him. He had been blinded by Amanda’s beauty and charm, and he was determined never to make that mistake again. He no longer trusted women and refused to let his guard down and get close to a woman, much less fall in love. Love was for fools.

And Zane Wagner was anything but a fool.