by Jaycee Clark
“What?” she asked.
“They go away?” He stood, shoved a hand through his damp hair.
What was with this guy? One minute he was snapping at her and the next he seemed upset because she had a bruise.
He shook his head.
Taylor looked past him to the man standing on the other side of the open door leaning against the front fender. He was grinning. A single dimple winking at her from his right cheek. He was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen: short black hair, swept off a high forehead, the same eyes as Gavin, but where Gavin’s features were blunted, rough, this man was polished. He looked like he’d just stepped out of GQ. Perfectly put together in a handsome aristocratic businessman type of way.
He offered her his hand. “Aiden Kinncaid. I’m Gavin’s brother.”
She took his hand. “Taylor Reese. My son, Ryan.”
“Looks like you had quite a night.”
“You have no idea.”
“Do you need to call someone?” he asked.
This man was nice. She looked back at Gavin, noticing the way his wet T-shirt sculpted over the muscles of his arms and chest. She sighed. The damp jeans fit him perfectly. He cocked a brow and she realized she was staring. Lord, he’d think her simple-minded before long. “Why is it your brother has all the manners?”
Aiden chuckled. “Ah, but Gavin here got all the charm.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Aiden’s smile slid away, and he tilted his head, studying her. Finally, he turned back to his brother. “You could bring them up to the house.”
One of the officers came up. “We need to take a statement, and ask some more questions.”
She nodded to Deputy Ainsworth. Then to Aiden said, “Thank you for the offer, but—”
“You have someplace else to go?” Gavin interrupted.
Who did the man think he was?
“See?” She said it to his brother. “No manners.”
• • •
Ryan dug his journal out of his backpack. He was sitting in the back of the doctor’s Navigator, the smell of leather filled the car.
Taylor and Gavin were still talking to the cops. The other Kinncaid guy had left earlier.
They were staying with this doctor and his family for the night. Taylor was stressing, she was running her hands through her hair a lot. And she only did that when she was worrying about stuff.
Taylor worried about stuff a lot. Not that she’d want anyone to know, but she did. He liked the doctor. The guy was nice and he didn’t like Taylor’s bruise any more than Ryan did.
That meant he was a good man. Men who didn’t like bruises on women wouldn’t hurt them.
And Ryan knew all about people hurting other people.
Sometimes adults were just mean.
Ryan’s stomach growled. He was hungry. Pizza sounded good. Or maybe some ice cream. If they were at home, he’d have asked Taylor if he could have some of the Chunky Monkey kind that was in the freezer.
He shrugged and pulled his pen out, turning on the little interior light above his head. At least he had his journal.
We’re out in the middle of nowhere. Taylor wrecked the car. Charles is going to be mad I bet. Or maybe she can fix it without him knowing. Probably not, since he pays the payments and insurance and stuff on it. I heard them arguing about it during the divorce.
I met this doctor. He’s nice. And big. I bet no one messes with him. I bet people move out of his way. And he’s a good guy. Or seems to be. He was mad at Taylor’s bruise. Plus, he’s a doctor and I don’t think doctors hurt people.
I wish we hadn’t wrecked, then we’d be in a hotel somewhere and doing stuff tomorrow. But now we’re spending the night at this doctor’s house. Or his family or something. But he said there was a pool and I like swimming. Maybe it’ll be okay.
Taylor’s not happy about it. But he told her to quit arguing. How was she going to get back to town to stay somewhere, he wanted to know. She started to say something, but then the doctor’s brother. His name is Aiden. He said his mom wanted us to stay with them. So I guess we are.
I wonder if the doctor still lives with his mom. That seems kinda weird. Guess we’ll find out.
I’m kinda tired. I wish we could go already. Wonder what we’ll do tomorrow.
Chapter 3
Taylor opened her eyes as sunlight streamed through the windows, warming her. Making her way to the bathroom, she gently touched her throbbing cheek and wished she didn’t have a headache. Last night the bossy doctor had brought her and Ryan here after the cops were done asking their questions. This house was huge, more along the lines of a mansion she’d see on some special show on cable. Set a couple miles back off the road, a security gate around the property—or rather estate—clearly screamed upper class.
These people were wealthy. She had no idea what his family did, thinking it probably rude to ask. There were more rooms than she could count in this mansion. And it was that, a large, gray-stoned mansion full of antiques and priceless heirlooms. It was hushed with an air of family wealth.
Her room alone was a hotel suite. A large queen sleigh bed, the sitting area where Ryan slept, and a bathroom any woman would envy with its large jet tub, multi-headed shower and lots of light.
She stepped to the sink, closed her eyes then opened them.
“Mother of God.” The entire left side of her face was purple from her ear to almost her nose. Her eye was swollen and black. “Wonder if Mary Kay will cover this?”
Half an hour later both she and Ryan descended the stairs. Her sundress floated around her ankles. At the bottom of the stairs she wondered which way to go. She couldn’t believe people actually lived here. No wonder Dr. Kinncaid was so arrogant and self-assured.
“It’s like a museum, isn’t it?” Ryan whispered.
“Shh,” she told him, listening. Finally, she heard a clink of a utensil on a dish. Breakfast.
Following the sound, she ran a hand over her vintage beige dress, walked through double doors and into a large dining room.
Gavin sat behind a newspaper.
Taylor stopped in the door.
“Oh.” A woman, the same height as Taylor, hurried from the sideboard over to them, her shoulder-length red curls bouncing around her face. “Hello, I’m Kaitlyn Kinncaid, Gavin’s mother.”
The newspaper rustled.
Taylor offered her hand. “Hello. I’m Taylor Reese and this is my son, Ryan.”
Mrs. Kinncaid looked perfectly groomed. If her other son last night looked like he had stepped out of GQ, she looked like she’d walked off the pages of Nordstrom. Taylor shifted, wishing she’d had other clothes. One of her few quirks was vintage clothing, circa 1920s and ’30s. Flapper dresses, tank dresses made out of filmy material and lace. The one she had on now had set her back a bit, but the beige georgette overlay had caught her fancy. Now though, they probably looked like Goodwill rags, as Charles had often called them.
After a silent moment, Mrs. Kinncaid asked, “Are you in pain? I thought Gavin said no one was hurt in the accident.”
Her face. Though she’d tried, makeup could only do so much. She gently touched the side of her face. “I’m okay. And it wasn’t the accident.”
The woman tilted her head. “Did you take anything for it? Your face looks like it hurts.”
Taylor shifted and sighed. “Some ibuprofen.”
Mrs. Kinncaid frowned. “Come on. Load up your plates. Becky, our housekeeper-cook-general, cooked too much this morning.”
Taylor dared a glance at Gavin. He’d lowered his paper and stared at her. Frowning as always.
“Do you ever smile?” she blurted.
His gaze narrowed. “Not before noon and never when looking at a bruised woman.”
She rolled her eyes. His mother laughed as he flipped the newspaper back up.
Taylor and Ryan loaded their plates with eggs, waffles, and fruit.
“Gavin tells me you work in Social Services,�
�� Mrs. Kinncaid offered after everyone was seated.
Taylor nodded. “Yes, I do.”
Mrs. Kinncaid shook her head. “I was a pediatric surgeon for years. It is a shame, a horrible shame what some parents do to their own children.”
“I know.”
Ryan shifted next to her. He looked up, his eyes shadowed with memories she knew she’d never be able to erase. Looking to Mrs. Kinncaid, he said, “Some people are just mean.”
The woman cocked her head to the side and for a moment she said nothing, then, “Yes, yes, sometimes they are.”
From under her lids, she caught Gavin’s study of them.
“Are you married?” Mrs. Kinncaid asked her.
Taylor almost dropped her fork. She could feel Gavin’s eyes on her. “No, divorced.”
The woman smiled, a single dimple winking in her cheek. Just like the other son, Aiden, Taylor had met last night.
“And your name is Ryan?” she asked.
Ryan nodded, not looking up.
“Well, if I can talk my son here into staying a bit longer, you might meet Tori, my granddaughter. She and her father live here, but they’ve been gone. Should be back this afternoon.”
“Mother, we can’t stay.”
Since the man was driving her back to town, Taylor said, “If you want to see your brother, I can wait.”
He shook his head. “No, I’ll see Bray later. We’ve got to call a wrecker to take your car to the nearest Mercedes dealer. There’s one in D.C.”
She sighed. The insurance would now be going up, which meant that Charles would have something else to complain about. Hell, the man hardly paid child support, he wouldn’t like the fact the car insurance went up. But she wasn’t going to think about Charles Shepard right now.
“I feel bad for ruining your weekend,” she admitted. And she did. Doctors were as busy as she often was, probably more so. People got hurt and needed medical assistance at all times of the day and night, and babies came when they wanted. This man probably liked his time off.
Gavin shrugged. “It’s fine. Stop worrying.”
His mother frowned from him to her. “You know, you’re more than welcome to stay. Your father and I have hardly seen you in a month. The kids could play and Taylor could rest.”
Gavin smiled at his mom and Taylor swallowed. My God. The man could give a woman all kinds of fantasies with that wicked smile alone. Straight and quick, perfect white teeth, it completely transformed him from grumpy into . . . devastatingly charming. The corner of his eyes even crinkled. But charming handsome men were last on her to-do list. She’d tried that before and look where she was now. Dumped, relocated and begging for child support from the tight-ass while he pampered the new Mrs. Shepard with all she wanted.
Taylor shook off the brooding thoughts.
“An entire month, Mom? And just think, there used to be days you’d wonder if the house would ever be quiet.”
Mrs. Kinncaid smiled back. “Yes, every parent’s wish, only to realize years later that they’d love the noise again. That is why grandchildren are so wonderful. Don’t you think?”
Gavin shook his head. “Don’t even think it.”
“Do you like children, Taylor?” The woman waved a hand. “Dumb question. You help kids, have one of your own. Of course you do.”
“Mom, we’re leaving. I told you there are things we need to do.”
Taylor was having trouble following the conversation. Gavin picked up his coffee cup and quickly took a drink.
She cleared her throat. “You’re right, Gavin, I need to call a tow service. Do you know of any? And then there is the issue of another vehicle.” She sighed.
He turned and looked at her, the smile slipping slowly away. “Exactly.” Back to his mom he said, “See, we need to go. Especially before Dad or Bray get home, then we’ll never get out of here.”
For some reason, Taylor got the impression he simply didn’t want her here.
She speared the waffle with her fork and shoved it in her mouth, quickly taking another bite.
“Where is Dad anyway?” Gavin asked.
“The club.”
Of course the dad would be at the country club. Would a residing patriarch of this mansion be anywhere else?
Taylor closed her eyes. Her head still ached and when she was tired and hurt, she got cranky. Mr. Kinncaid was probably as nice as Mrs. Kinncaid.
“Taylor?” His voice didn’t frown, it caressed. Maybe if she didn’t open her eyes she wouldn’t have to see his frown.
“Yes?” Sure enough, there was his frown.
The vague thought that she’d like to see him smile at her the way he had at his mom floated stupidly through her tired brain.
Sleep. She just needed some sleep.
“Are you all right?”
“Dandy.” She got another bite and decided she was no longer hungry. Looking over, she saw Ryan had all but licked the syrup from his plate, scarfed the eggs, but left the fruit. Well, life could hardly be perfect. Fruit and vegetables were often asking a lot.
She tried to ignore him, but her eyes kept drifting to Gavin. This morning he was dressed in a black polo and chinos. She sighed.
Picking up her coffee, she tried to hide her yawn behind the cup, but halfway through pain pierced her cheek. She closed her eyes and waited for it to go away.
“You okay?” he asked again, softly.
She swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. If you’ll give me a few minutes, I’ll go get our stuff together and we’ll be ready.” To Mrs. Kinncaid, she said, “Thank you so much for your hospitality. You have an extraordinary home.”
The woman laughed and waved a hand. “It was our pleasure. Maybe you’ll come to visit sometime. And I suppose extraordinary is one way to describe it.”
“Museum is a better description,” Gavin muttered.
Ryan chuckled.
She smiled at him, and turned back to Gavin.
Gavin caught his breath at her grin. Two dimples deepened her cheeks. The floral scent he’d detected last night and the day before at the hospital had floated into the room the moment she’d walked in. And it teased him from across the table now. Her eyes were a soft brown color, like the color of whisky. Though he thought maybe they lightened when she was angry, or he seemed to remember them being more amber yesterday when they were insulting each other in the maternity ward.
Taylor shifted and answered something his mother said. Early morning sunlight shot red fire off her hair, which she’d pulled back into a braid.
The dress she had on was something else. It was made out of some filmy material and seemed to glide over her skin. Hell, every time she’d picked up her fork and moved forward, he’d watch it bunch and pull over her chest. The sleeveless dress showed off pale shoulders with a smattering of freckles.
“Is that okay with you, Doc?” she asked, drawing his attention.
Gavin shook his head. “What?”
“Leave in half an hour? Your mother wants to show me something.”
Great, now Mom was showing her things. He knew what his mother was thinking earlier with all the divorce questions and children. Lord, ever since Aiden and Jesslyn were married and had the twins, he was expected to go next.
Marriage? No. Too big, too long term, too much commitment on both sides.
Hell, he couldn’t get enough time to eat most of the time, let alone sleep. What would he do with a wife?
His ex-dating partner—he didn’t think of them as his girlfriends until after several dates—had yelled at him last night and dumped him because she was pissed he couldn’t spend more time with her.
His family might joke about all his women, but he was lucky to date the same woman four or five times without work getting in the way. And women seemed to be funny about that. Wanted hearth, home, and leashes. It was fine for a pregnant woman to want him to deliver her baby at four a.m. But if she was the doctor’s lover, let alone wife, she might have something to say about it.
“
Hel-leewww,” Taylor said.
Gavin shook off his thoughts again, wondering why in the world he’d thought of marriage in the first damn place.
Leave, half an hour. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. Sorry, I was thinking of something.”
He watched as the other three left the room. What about her rubbed him wrong? Ever since he’d met the woman, they’d bickered. And he generally got along with women.
Gavin gave up trying to figure it out and went to get his stuff.
• • •
Gavin grinned as he drove through the streets to Taylor’s house. Lunch had been entertaining and informative. They’d left later than he’d planned and Gavin decided to take them to lunch. Taylor had, of course, declined. Was the woman always so contrary? Though after he’d talked her into lunch, a sort of truce seemed to reign. He’d noticed several things as Ryan wolfed his burger and Taylor ate her salad. He picked up on the fact that Ryan wasn’t Taylor’s biological child, more from what wasn’t said than what was, but he had yet to figure out the dynamics. Ryan was exuberant, full of factoids, and liked to hum classical music, yet the boy was often guarded. Sometimes he seemed hesitant to do things and Gavin caught him either asking or looking to Taylor for permission. He wondered at that. Was it simply shyness or was it more? Gavin was curious about Ryan, but he didn’t know how to broach a subject that he had no business delving into.
Taylor herself fascinated him. She talked and laughed through the lunch. Amazingly enough, they’d actually gotten along. He learned she was more the health-food type. She liked water and salads. He’d asked where in Texas they were from, telling them he’d been to the Austin area for the last year off and on while his brother’s family lived there. A conversation started up about Texas places to see and things to do. He’d enjoyed himself more than he thought he would.
“Have you always lived here?” she asked him as they pulled up to her house, a brownstone with a low fat porch that had geraniums in little pots on it.
“All my life.”
“It’s different here.” Her hands lay calmly in her lap, long tapered fingers on elegant hands, short buffed nails. Taylor was built like a dancer he’d once dated, long and lithe, her movements graceful.