Kai’s hair was longer than he remembered, and the streak of purple was new. But her blue eyes contained the same sparkle, and her smile still turned his knees to jelly.
“I’m sorry we don’t have more than a few minutes. Stupid weather.”
Last week when Tilly called, Kai mentioned she was headed for Seattle, his current location. They arranged to meet for dinner. Between a snowstorm and the usual December holiday madness, massive flight delays played havoc with their plans. The expected six-hour layover turned into thirty minutes. Maybe less.
“Are you in the mood for a hamburger?” Tilly asked, finding them a place to sit. “I stopped on the way at a fast-food place.”
“French fries?” Kai rummaged through the bag. “Yum. Not the dinner I had hoped for, but at least we’re together.”
“Hope you like chocolate.” Tilly handed Kai a milkshake.
“My favorite.” She took a sip. “I can’t believe you came all this way when I have to jump right back on a plane.”
“Friends go out of their way for each other. Right?”
When he saw the flash of disappointment in Kai’s eyes, Tilly could have kicked himself.
“Friends.” She sighed. “Right.”
“Kai—”
Whatever Tilly meant to say was interrupted by a loud, booming voice over the public address system.
Fight 466 for San Francisco is now boarding at gate 33.
“That’s me.” Wiping her mouth, Kai placed what was left of her meal in the bag. She slung her bag over her shoulder and got to her feet. “You’ll call me soon?”
Tilly nodded. Afraid they were destined to never be more than phone buddies and ships that passed in the night, he gave in to the need to pull Kai close. Holding her tight, burying his face in her soft, fragrant hair, he breathed her scent. Wild strawberries. His favorite.
“Merry fucking Christmas, Lieutenant.”
Kai laughed, as he expected.
“And a shove it up your ass New Year, Sergeant.”
CHAPTER FOUR
♫~♫~♫
♥ PRESENT DAY ♥
TILLY COULDN’T PINPOINT the exact moment he decided to settle down in one place. Happy with his vagabond lifestyle, the need for a home to call his own never seemed important. Yet, from the very beginning, something about the town of Eatonville, Nevada felt different. Like he belonged.
As Tilly traveled, he lived off the insurance money he received after his parents’ deaths. Invested wisely, the money was more than enough to suit his needs. However, once he moved to Eatonville, he started looking for a permanent job. Something he enjoyed, could be proud of. A way to make a difference.
The position of housekeeper for anyone, let alone an ex-rock star, was so far off his radar, a week before he agreed to a trial run, he would have laughed at the idea. But saying no to Beck Kramer was harder than it should have been. The man had a way of making the ridiculous sound perfectly normal.
Once the drummer for the rock band Razor’s Edge, Beck hung up his sticks, moved back to his hometown, and in a few short years, he and his mother turned their construction company into one of the biggest and most respected in Nevada.
Beck, on top of his music and building skills, knew how to charm the birds out of the trees. Not a problem for Tilly—he could smell a mounting pile of bullshit a mile away.
Except his future boss didn’t sling B.S. Beck was sincere and honest. Two traits Tilly admired above all else.
They met at a poker game. Tilly had been in town for less than a week but made friends quickly. He earned an invitation after he helped the game’s host change a flat tire. Over beer and mediocre deli sandwiches, he and Beck hit it off right away.
Somehow, someway Tilly couldn’t quite remember, the conversation circled around to his lack of a job and Beck’s newly renovated house.
“Planned to flip the place. Make a profit. Hell, I had three buyers interested before we swung the first hammer.” Beck chuckled. “My mistake was obsessing over every curved piece of wood, every tile, every light fixture. Fell in love with a freaking house.”
“Love has a way of sneaking up on you,” Tilly said, Kai’s image flashing through his mind.
Beck raised an eyebrow, but to Tilly’s relief, he didn’t push the subject further down the line.
“My point is, I have a huge house. You need a job. Sounds like a match made in heaven.”
“A housekeeper? Me?” Tilly wasn’t opposed to the idea per se. But what if he wasn’t the right fit? “I don’t have any experience.”
“You were a Marine,” Beck said. “Highly organized, right? You know how to divvy out your time, make things work.”
“True.” Tilly nodded. “But—”
“My kitchen is state of the art.”
Damn, Beck was good, Tilly thought. One mention of his passion for baking gave the other man all the ammunition he needed to make the job enticing.
“You’d have complete autonomy over the household,” Beck told him. “And the chance to try out all those recipes you’ve collected over the years.”
“Bastard,” Tilly muttered, knowing he was hooked.
Grinning, Beck leaned back, sipping his beer.
“When can you start?”
A year later, Tilly knew he’d found his calling and his home. The housework was a breeze. Even when Beck took a trip to Las Vegas and returned with a wife, nothing changed. Like her new husband, Sawyer Hale ran a business that kept her going from the break of dawn; at times, when she expected delivery of plants, she left for Hale’s Nursery before first light. She wasn’t interested in usurping Tilly’s place. And any ideas she did have were delivered in such a way—sweet but determined—he was happy to accommodate her.
After some bumps and a few stray bullets, Beck and Sawyer had settled into wedded bliss. Tilly was thrilled for the couple, and a little sad for himself. They had what he wanted. But the only woman he could picture in his life was Kai and the odds of her loving him or her leaving her job as a world-traveling security expert seemed zero to none.
Shaking away the thoughts that only managed to depress him, Tilly flipped a pancake. Sundays were usually his day off, but once a month, he made breakfast with all the trimmings.
“I put on two pounds since I started eating your amazing meals.” Grinning, Sawyer patted her hips before adding another slice of bacon to her plate.
“Maybe you're pregnant,” Tilly said.
Beck spat his orange juice across the table, half-landing on the floor. He gasped for breath as Sawyer rubbed his back.
“I’m not,” she assured her husband. “We decided to wait, and that’s what we’re doing. Waiting.”
“You’re sure?” Beck asked when he regained his ability to speak. “We’re very, um, active. Accidents happen.”
“Not this time.” Sawyer shrugged. “The only one hundred percent, foolproof way to prevent conception is to abstain. Personally, I want sex. With you. Whenever and wherever we choose.”
“Definitely, we’ll take our chances,” Beck told his wife with a wolfish grin. “If Tilly weren’t here, I’d—”
“What was our agreement about the discussion of your sex life?” Tilly wagged a finger at the happy couple. “I love that you’re in love. Kiss. Hold hands. But do not, under any circumstances, share the details of what you do when I’m not around.”
“Who said we wait until you aren’t around?” Beck asked. “Just the other day, you were in the kitchen while we took a turn around the world in the broom—”
Sawyer placed a hand over Beck’s mouth, a warning glint in her eyes.
“Do not poke our favorite bear,” she warned. “If Tilly ever decides to quit because your teasing went too far, I’ll move back to my old room.”
The reference to the bedroom Sawyer occupied during the early months of their marriage wasn’t a sore spot. More of a reminder of where they started and how far they’d come. Beck
knew she wasn’t serious because their relationship was rock solid, capable of withstanding some good-natured teasing.
“Which would you miss more?” Beck asked. “My irresistible body, or Tilly’s chocolate cake?”
Tilly watched, amused, as Sawyer pretended to contemplate the question. Rather than wait for her answer, knowing at any moment Beck might sweep her into his arms and head toward the nearest unoccupied room, Tilly decided his wisest course of action was a quick retreat.
“I’m out of here,” he said, hanging his apron in the nearby pantry. “Put your plates in the dishwasher when you’re finished eating. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait.” Sawyer grabbed Tilly’s arm as he tried to leave. “We have something for you. A present.”
“Christmas isn’t until next week.”
“Some gifts need to be opened early,” Beck said as he handed Tilly a glossy red envelope.
Until Tilly settled in Eatonville, he didn’t do presents. Not because he had a problem with the tradition. He simply wasn’t in one place, or around the same people, long enough to get in the habit. Once he was welcomed into the Kramer clan, first Beck and his mother Sandy, then by addition, Sawyer, he had no choice but to join in.
Tilly enjoyed giving. Receiving a gift still made him uncomfortable.
Opening the envelope, Tilly looked inside and frowned.
“A ticket to Paris? France?” He checked again. “Leaving tomorrow. Are you crazy?”
“From Paris, you take a train to an exclusive resort. Private cabin. Skiing, sledding, hot toddies by the fire. Sounds like heaven.”
“Sledding?” Tilly snorted. “I don’t think so.”
“Forget the toboggans. You never take time for yourself,” Sawyer argued. “Between the self-defense classes you teach on your days off and the fact you’re the first person to volunteer whenever someone needs a helping hand. Not to mention taking care of us—”
“For which I’m nicely compensated,” Tilly reminded her.
“We pay you a salary,” Beck agreed. “Yet, how many times have you gone above and beyond? For example, saving my ass. Putting your life on the line. Not a housekeeper’s normal duties.”
“Might be something one friend would do for another,” Tilly pointed out.
Resting her head on his shoulder, Sawyer wrapped her arms around him. Tilly knew a trap when he saw one. However, knowing and dodging danger were two very different animals, especially when a well-meaning friend was involved.
Shaking his head, Tilly patted Sawyer on the back.
“I’d love to go,” he said. “Really. But you’re expecting guests over the holidays.”
After a bitter breakup, the members of Razor’s Edge, Beck’s old band, had recently mended fences. What better way to celebrate than to invite his four friends and their significant others to spend the holidays in Eatonville? They planned to arrive the day before Christmas Eve and stay through New Year’s Day.
“That’s a lot of bodies moving from place to place,” Tilly reasoned. “Who will take care of the house? You’ll need fresh linens for the beds. Clean towels in the bathrooms. There are bound to be minor spills and disasters.”
“We own a big house. Too big for one person, as you learned early on,” Beck said. “The extra help you hired, Mrs. Blake and her daughter Joan, will be here to take care of things while you’re away.”
“What about the food? Three meals a day, plus snacks and dessert?” Tilly scoffed at the idea that anyone else could handle the added burden. “Admit it, you need me.”
“My mother and Sawyer know their way around the kitchen. I can handle snacks.” Beck listed each person, a smug smile on his lips.
“But—”
“I put in an order with the bakery to deliver bread and pies and cakes,” Sawyer said, quelling Tilly’s argument. “The grocery store is just down the street.”
“Sure, but—”
“You’re going first thing tomorrow.” Sawyer gave him a shake before taking her seat. “Geeze. It’s only for ten days. First class all the way, poor baby. You’ll be back to raise a glass of champagne with us on New Year’s Eve.”
Tilly knew he had three choices. One, lock himself in his house across town—Sawyer would follow. Two, run for the hills—Sawyer would make Beck track him down. Or three, accept the damn gift and go on the damn trip—and make Sawyer happy.
Reviewing his options, Tilly realized he had no choice.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
As Tilly slammed out the back door, Sawyer looked at Beck, a worried expression in her eyes.
“You’re sure we’re doing the right thing?” she asked.
“Tilly’s a born fixer. My life. Yours. His friends and neighbors. When we need help, he never hesitates. Unfortunately, he isn’t as careful of his own happiness.”
“True,” Sawyer said. “Sometimes he’s too selfless.”
Smiling, Beck raised her hand to his lips.
“Now and then, even a strong, confident man like Jedediah Tillman needs a firm but loving kick in the ass.”
CHAPTER FIVE
♫~♫~♫
THE NEXT MORNING, as his flight took off from Las Vegas, Tilly felt more like a ten-year-old boy than a full-grown man on the cusp of forty. Sawyer hadn’t been content to knock on his door at the crack of dawn. She’d insisted on driving him to the airport. Proof she hadn’t trusted him to keep his word.
Tilly was annoyed. And guilty because not an hour earlier, he had considered bailing on the trip. He’d already decided to do the right thing, but Sawyer didn’t know that. And he didn’t tell her.
“You’re not coming in,” Tilly told her before she attempted to find a place to park. “Drop me off and go home before I say something neither of us will like.”
Sawyer kissed his cheek, and Tilly felt like a jerk. She meant well, always did. Wasn’t her fault that ever since she and Beck dropped the surprise vacation on him, he’d felt like a bear with a thorn in his paw. And couldn’t say why.
“Thank you.” Tilly kissed Sawyer’s cheek as she pulled to a stop outside the terminal. “For the ride, and the present.”
“You’re welcome.” Sawyer smiled—no, she beamed. “Have a good time.”
Tilly looked out the window, watching as flat desert turned into tree-covered mountains. Stretching his legs out to their full length, he had to admit, first class was easier on his body than coach.
As Tilly accepted a fancy-ass beer from the flight attendant and adjusted a set of headphones, the alcohol mellowed his mood, and the music lifted his spirits. He was on vacation. Though the holiday was forced on him, and he still had some doubts, he knew the gift was given with love.
Ten days at a five-star ski resort? Gourmet meal? Waited on hand and foot? And beautiful women. Tilly grinned. There were bound to be a bevy of gorgeous, pampered, perfumed females. A bit rich for his blood on a regular basis, but he wouldn’t complain if a satin-skinned blonde or redhead agreed to share his bed for a night or two.
Warming to the idea, Tilly closed his eyes, settling deeper into his seat. Other than the fact he hated to be told what was good for him and what wasn’t, why should he complain? He’d been gifted with an all-expense-paid golden ticket and permission to enjoy himself 24/7. Not bad. Not bad at all.
♫~♫~♫
THE CABIN WAS tucked away in the woods, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Yet, the hotel’s concierge informed him, Tilly was a mere five-minute drive from the main lodge. If he was uncomfortable driving in the snow, he could call for someone to pick him up. If not, there was an SUV parked in the attached garage. His to use whenever he wanted.
After assuring his escort he would be fine on his own, Tilly realized as he let himself into his home for the next ten days, to call the place a cabin was like calling Mt. Everest an anthill. Both descriptions were wildly inaccurate understatements. What stood before him was nothing less than a freaking mansion made of lo
gs.
Inside, Tilly shook his head and grinned. Like something out of an old Hollywood movie, logs burned and crackled inside a huge floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. Hardwood floors, dark and gleaming, stretched from one end of the wide-open room to the other.
Two wing-backed chairs faced the fire while a blanket covered the back of a sofa—perfect for snuggling. A couple of hot toddies and an equally hot friend, and Tilly would be all set.
At the far end of the room sat the kitchen. Drawn by the shiny marble countertops and gleaming stainless-steel appliances, Tilly forced himself to head upstairs instead. Before he did any serious exploring, he needed to unpack. And shower off almost fifteen hours of planes, trains, and automobiles.
The first thing Tilly noticed when he entered the master bedroom was the wall of crystal-clear windows, giving the illusion that the snowy outdoor winter wonderland was there, inside, with him.
Tilly placed a hand to the window, impressed when all he felt was warm glass. East facing, the view from the bed would be spectacular at sunrise. Unless, he wanted to sleep in and, with the push of a button, lowered the light-blocking shades.
Suitcase in hand, Tilly moved to the chest of drawers then froze when he heard a noise. Frowning, he reached under his jacket but found nothing but air. Airlines frowned on their passengers carrying guns. And rightly so. But as he cautiously walked toward the bathroom, he wished his weapon was here, in his hand, instead of at home, locked in the safe he’d built into his office floor.
Slowly, Tilly opened the door a crack. Steam billowed out followed by the unmistakable scent of wild strawberries. Confused, practically salivating, he walked into the bathroom. In the tub, bubbles everywhere, was the last person he expected to find, and the only one he longed to see.
“Kai?”
Blue eyes sparkling, she threw her arms in the air.
“Surprise!”
CHAPTER SIX
ALMOST LIKE BEING IN LOVE Page 2