Free Yours to Hold: Ribbon Ridge Book Two by Darcy Burke Page A

number from Kyle, but shit, how in the world had that happened? He thought back to four years ago. “I don’t know how Alex would’ve gotten Shane’s number.”
    “Okay, we’ll work on that. Do you want me to keep looking through the numbers?”
    Kyle shook himself, but the sick feeling in his gut persisted. If Shane had provided the drugs and Kyle had somehow led Alex to him . . . God, how would he rebound from that? He’d made a shit-ton of mistakes and was trying to do better, but if he’d brought opportunity to Alex’s door . . . with a shaking hand, he took a long drink of wine.
    “Kyle, are you still with me?” Maggie’s soothing voiced pulled him back to the here and now. “Talk to me.”
    Hopelessness choked him. “I don’t know what to say. What if this is my fault?”
    “It’s not. No matter what. Your brother killed himself—you are not responsible, no one is.”
    The passion in her tone grounded him, gave him something to cling to. “That includes you, right?”
    “That includes me.” Her dark gaze bored into his. “And believe me, there are days when I still have to convince myself of that fact.”
    “Yeah, I bet.” He winced. “Poor choice of words.”
    She laughed, further calming him. “I think you did that on purpose. I’m beginning to understand that you like things to be easy and fun. That makes life more palatable for you, especially now, doesn’t it?”
    He thought about that for a minute. “If you’re asking me whether I avoid tough situations, the answer is sometimes. I just think life’s short—now more than ever.”
    “Sure, I get that. But a gambling addiction is pretty heavy. If I were you, I think I’d want people to look at anything but me, lest they see things I don’t want them to.”
    Hell , she was headshrinking him. He wanted to hate that, but damn it, he didn’t. “You’re therapizing me, Dr. Trent.”
    She arched a brow at him. “That’s not a word.”
    “But you know exactly what I mean,” he challenged.
    “I do. And yes.” Her gaze turned sheepish. “Sorry, it’s what I do. Even before I was a therapist, I tried to solve people’s problems. I had a teacher once who called me a busybody.”
    He suddenly remembered how he’d come to be here with her in the first place. She’d treated his brother. Unsuccessfully. But was that really her fault? No, like she’d said, it wasn’t. Any lingering anger or resentment he felt toward her began to dissipate.
    Whitney brought their entrees, and for a few minutes, they dug into their food.
    “These scallops are amazing.”
    Kyle checked out her plate. “Great sear.” Andy was a good chef. Seeing his friend’s work gave him an itch. He cooked at home, had done some restaurant work in Florida the past few years, but nothing permanent. The thought of designing a menu, creating something from scratch at The Alex, filled him with excitement and reminded him of why he’d decided to go to culinary school in the first place. That and the fact that he’d dropped out of college and his parents had pushed him to find something else to do. He’d always liked to cook and decided to try it to get them off his back. He’d been surprised to find he actually had a passion for it.
    “Here.” She forked a bit of scallop and held it up to him.
    He took the proffered bite and closed his eyes. Now he really hated Andy—for his successful restaurant and his amazing scallops. “Your dinner is better than mine,” he said, opening his eyes. He offered her some duck.
    She sampled the succulent bird and smiled. “I don’t know, that’s pretty freaking good.”
    “I heard that!” Andy came to the table with a wide grin. He liked to eat his food as much as craft it, and he looked like he’d gained a good fifteen or twenty pounds in the years since Kyle had seen him last.
    Kyle stood and hugged his old friend. “Great to see you. You look good.”
    Andy clapped him on the back as they drew apart. “No, you look