“No.” Mike cut him off before he could get going. Damned if he was going to sit back and have Jenny fly off to Wyoming with Sean. They’d be alone on the plane, at the hotel... No.
“Well, that was decisive.”
“Just get one of the others to go with you.”
“Not going to be easy to coax someone off a beach and into a snowbank.”
“We’ve all got our problems,” Mike told him, and instantly, his mind shot back to Jenny.
The problem there was he couldn’t stop thinking about her, wanting her, needing her. And he knew damn well that there was no place in his life for her. He already knew that she was a liar. Okay, fine, she hadn’t lied lately. But that didn’t mean a damn thing. All it told him was that more lies were coming. When? What kind? And how the hell could he be so damn interested in a woman he knew he couldn’t trust?
Sean came back, sat in the chair again, braced his forearms on the desk and leaned in. “Talk to me, Mike. What is going on with you? What’s the deal with Jenny?”
Tempting to confide in Sean, but at the core of it, Mike wasn’t a big sharer. He kept his thoughts, his emotions, locked down tight. Not many people got past the wall he’d built around himself. He loved his brother, but there were some things a man just didn’t discuss. With anyone.
Shaking his head, Mike scraped one hand across his face. “Nothing I want to talk about, okay?”
Sean watched him for a long minute before saying, “All right. But I’m here when you want to talk. Remember that.”
“I will.”
“Okay,” Sean said. “You’re going to Mom and Dad’s tonight, right? Not backing out?”
From one problem to another. Mike had considered blowing off his father’s birthday dinner. He didn’t need the aggravation piled on top of everything else going on. All he needed was to stoke the fire burning at the back of his brain. But if he didn’t show up, his mother would make him pay. Somehow. Didn’t seem to matter how old you were, your mother retained power over you. And Peggy Ryan had no difficulty wielding that power.
“Yeah, I’m going.”
“Wow, feel the enthusiasm.”
Mike glared at him. “I’m going. Should be good enough.”
“You keep saying things that make me want more information,” Sean told him, leaning back in his chair. He kicked his feet up and crossed them on the corner of Mike’s desk. “You don’t want to talk about Jenny. How about you tell me why you’re always pissed at Dad.”
“Not going there, either.”
“You are not an easy person to have for a brother,” Sean told him with a shake of his head. “You’ve got more secrets than the CIA.”
“And the nature of a secret is, it’s not talked about.”
“That’s what you think,” Sean countered. “You know I could find out. I could just go to Mom.”
“Don’t.” He didn’t want his mother reminded of old pain. Didn’t want her to have to tell her other son the things she’d inadvertently told Mike so many years before.
“Just ‘don’t’? That’s all I get? What the hell, Mike? You’ve been at war with Dad for years and you won’t say why.” Sean braced both hands on the edge of the desk. “If you know something I should, then tell me.”
Mike studied his brother for a long minute. During that short period of time, his brain raced through the familiar scenarios he knew he would be facing over dinner. Strained conversations, his mother trying to be overly bright and happy, his father sending Mike covert glances. It wouldn’t be pleasant. Wouldn’t be easy. But he would play the game for his mother’s sake.
As far as his little brother went, though, there was just no reason for Sean to have to battle the same emotions that Mike did when the family was together. “Sean, believe me, you don’t want to know. So just let it go, all right?”
For a second or two, Sean looked as though he’d argue, but finally, he nodded and stood up. “Fine. But try to remember. I might be your younger brother...but I’m not a kid you need to protect.”
Maybe not, Mike thought, but there was no reason to shatter his illusions, either.
* * *
A few hours later, Jenny jolted out of the movie she was watching when someone knocked at her door. Wearing her flannel sleep pants and a white tank, she was curled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a glass of wine. Not working. Trying not to think. Just immersing herself in a few harmless explosions on the television.
She wasn’t expecting anyone, so naturally, her very excellent imagination conjured up images of roving pirates, rabid serial killers or maybe even an escapee from a mental institution, all crowded together on her tiny front porch.
She wasn’t the nervous Nellie type, but when she was alone at night, she often thought about getting a dog. A big one. But for now, she got up, looked out the curtains and sighed, both relieved and annoyed.
Mike.
At least he wasn’t a marauder, but why did he have to show up when she looked hideous? No makeup, her hair a messy tumble of curls and wearing her Star Wars flannels? And what did it matter? she asked herself. He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested, so let him see the real her...flannel jammies and all.
She opened the door and looked up at him.
“You don’t ask who it is before you open a door?” he demanded, blue eyes flashing.
“Wow. Hello to you, too.”
“Come on, Jenny. You’re a woman living alone. Be smart.”
“I looked out the window and saw you.”
“Oh, that’s all right, then.”
“Thanks very much.” One hand on the open door, one on the jamb, she asked, “What are you doing here, Mike?”
“Honestly,” he said, “I don’t know. Just had dinner with the family at my folks’ house and didn’t want to go home yet. I drove around for a while and ended up here.”
Fascinating.
He wore a black jacket over a white shirt, open at the collar, with black jeans and boots that looked as if they’d seen a lot of miles. His hair had been ruffled by the wind and his eyes looked...empty. His features were tight, his shoulders tense, and Jenny thought he was on the verge of leaving. She didn’t want him to.
“Do you want a glass of wine?” she asked.
His gaze fixed on hers. “That’d be good. Thanks.”
Polite, but distant. That, plus a little outright suspicion, she was used to. Tonight, though, there was a sadness about him that she’d never seen before and Jenny felt a flicker of worry she knew he wouldn’t appreciate.
He stepped inside, and she closed and locked the door behind him.
“You were at your parents’ house, you said. Are they okay? Sean?”
He looked at her. “Yeah. They’re all fine.”
She tipped her head to one side and studied him. “You’re not.”
He laughed shortly and scraped one hand along his jaw. “I don’t like being read that easily, but no, I guess not.”
It was the first time she could ever remember seeing Mike Ryan vulnerable in any way. Normally he was so in charge, so much the stalwart head of a billion-dollar company, that seeing his features strained and closed off was unsettling. She’d rather have him raging at her than see him looking so lost.
“I shouldn’t have come here—” he said abruptly.
But he had, Jenny told herself. For whatever reason, he’d been upset and he’d come to her. That had to mean something, didn’t it? “Stay. Take off your jacket. Sit down. Have a glass of wine, Mike.”
It took a moment or two, but he finally nodded and said, “Okay, thanks.”
He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it across the back of a chair, then looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. It wasn’t his first visit, though. He’d been here before. T
he night they’d— Whoops. Probably not a good idea to think about that right now.
Mike stood in the middle of the small living room, glanced at the popcorn and her wineglass and then shifted his gaze to hers. “Movie night?”
She shrugged. “I just wanted to relax, you know. A lot going on right now...”
“Tell me about it.” He sat on the couch, took a handful of popcorn and watched the movie playing out on the screen.
She went to the kitchen to get him that wine, then walked back to the living room and handed him a glass of chardonnay. He took a sip, gestured with the glass toward the TV and asked, “Die Hard?”
She smiled and sat on the other end of the couch. “It’s my feel-good movie. You know, Christmas, good guys beating the bad guys...”
“And lots of stuff blowing up.”
“Exactly.” She grinned and sipped her wine.
“I didn’t know you liked action movies.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“And some I do,” he said, a frown flattening his mouth.
“Or think you do,” she countered. She wasn’t a liar and a thief, and she felt that somewhere inside him, he knew that or he wouldn’t have been sitting on her couch.
“Touché.” He nodded, glanced at the television again. “One guy going against a whole crew.”
“To save his wife,” she said with a satisfied sigh. “It’s romantic.”
He chuckled. “Romance and bombs?”
“Works for me.”
His gaze shifted to the flannel pants she wore. “Darth Vader pajamas?”
She grinned. “They’re cozy.” And were a gift from her uncle Hank, but she doubted he’d want to hear that.
“I don’t know what to think about you, Jenny,” he said.
“Good. I’m glad. That means you’re not entirely sure you should think what you used to think because now you think your thinking might have been wrong.”
He blinked at her, then shook his head. “I actually followed that.”
Turning his head again, he stared at the television. In the flickering light, darkness passed over his features, highlighting the shadows crouched in his eyes.
“Why are you really here, Mike?”
Slowly, he looked back at her. “You know why.”
There was that wild flutter and rush of anticipation moving through her stomach again. She took a swallow of wine to ease her suddenly dust-dry throat, then set the glass on the table in front of her.
Jenny knew exactly what he was talking about. She’d felt it in the office today. Before Sean came in, there had been a slow, simmering burn between Mike and her, and that fire was still there, hot as ever. Acting on it would be a huge mistake. But not acting on it was driving her crazy.
“Yes,” she said softly, holding his gaze with her own. “I know.”
“So the question is,” Mike asked, voice low and deep and intimate, “do you want me to leave?”
“No.”
“Thank God.” He set his glass down and reached for her.
Pushing the popcorn out of the way, Jenny went into his arms; all the while her mind called out a warning she refused to heed. She didn’t want to be wise. Didn’t want to be smart. She wanted Mike and that just wouldn’t change.
But it was more than that, she admitted silently as Mike’s mouth claimed hers. She leaned into him, opened to him, and felt the heat within build into something that was both wilder and more...steady than anything she’d ever known before.
Her breath caught, as understanding dawned. Her mind spun and she clung to Mike because he was the only steady point in her universe.
She loved Mike Ryan.
Her brain went into overdrive in the span of a single heartbeat. The months of working at Celtic Knot, watching Mike work with young artists, encouraging them. Seeing his dedication to his work, his brother and friend. Knowing that he didn’t trust her, but having him give her the opportunity to work on his hotel in spite of it all.
He didn’t trust her.
Didn’t love her.
There was misery lying in wait, and Jenny knew it. But her whole life had been spent wanting the very feelings that were crashing down around her right now.
So she’d risk the pain to have this one moment—even if Mike never knew what was shining in her heart.
Seven
A few days later, Mike was at his desk when the video chat bell on his phone went off. He hit Answer and his brother’s face appeared on the screen.
“I hate Wyoming.”
Mike laughed. Sean looked haggard, on edge. His eyes were narrowed, whisker stubble covered his jaws and the scowl he wore looked as if it had been permanently etched into his face.
“Don’t hold back, tell me how you really feel.”
“Funny.” Sean glanced over his shoulder, then back into the camera. “It hasn’t stopped snowing since I got here. There’s like three feet of snow piling up out there and it’s still coming down. I don’t think it’ll ever stop.”
“Sounds cold.”
“Hah! Beyond cold. Beyond freezing. I’m wearing two sweaters inside.”
Chuckling, Mike asked, “What’s it like when you’re not bitching about how cold you are?”
Sean sighed then grudgingly admitted, “It’s pretty. Lots of trees. Lots of open land. And who knew the sky was so big when you get out of the city?”
Mike smiled. He’d discovered that for himself when he and Jenny were in Laughlin. Of course, allowing Jenny into his mind meant opening himself up to the memories that never really left him. Her smile. Her eyes. The feel of her skin against his. The soft sigh of her breath as she surrendered to him. Stopping in at her house after work, spending the evening watching movies, making love, talking about the work, the hotel. Talking about everything except for the fact that he couldn’t trust her.
Pushing those thoughts away, he asked, “What’s the hotel itself like, Sean?”
“Big. Cold. Empty.” Sean blew out a frustrated breath and pushed one hand through his hair. “But the bones are good. A lot of work to do to turn it into a ‘Forest Run’ fantasy.”
“And is Kate Wells up to the task?”
“To hear her tell it,” Sean muttered. “Anyway, there’s a hundred and fifty guest rooms and they all need work.”
“If we go with your idea to hold our own game con on the property, we’ll need more rooms. Are there other hotels close by?”
“No. We’re ten miles from the closest town and it’s got two B and Bs and one motel right off the highway.”
It was Mike’s turn to frown. “Sean, we can’t go with a big conference if there’s nowhere for people to stay.” He took a breath and spoke again before Sean could suggest camping. “And don’t say people can pitch tents.”
Sean laughed. “Just because I like camping doesn’t mean I want strangers staying all over the property. Anyway, there’s a bigger city about twenty-five miles from here, with more hotels and Kate—the contractor—had another idea on that, too.”
“What’s she thinking?” Mike picked up his coffee and took a long drink.
Sean’s frown deepened. “Is that a cappuccino? You bastard.”
“I’ll enjoy it for you.”
“Thanks.” Shaking his head, Sean said, “Kate thinks we should put in some small cabins, behind the main lodge, staggered back into the forest. Give people more privacy, a sense of being out in the open...”
Mike nodded, thinking about it. “It’s a good idea.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Yet you don’t look happy about it.”
“Because she was so damn sure she was right,” Sean told him. “It’s hard agreeing she was.”
“Sounds like you’re havin
g a great time,” Mike said with another deliberate sip of his hot coffee.
Sean’s eyes narrowed into slits. “This woman is the most hardheaded person I’ve ever dealt with and that includes you.”
“As long as she does good work, that’s all you should care about.”
“Yeah, yeah. She wants to get her crew in here next week and start in on the rehab and I don’t see a problem with it.” He paused and ran one finger around the collar of his black sweater. “As long as I can oversee it from California.”
“Okay, but since you didn’t take any of the artists with you, what’ll she do about the painting we’ll need done?”
“Come on,” Sean said. “I couldn’t bring an artist out here when everyone’s doing the final run on ‘The Wild Hunt.’”
True. It was bad timing all the way around, really. Sean had had to get to the next hotel and every artist in the company was focused on the finishing touches of the game that would be released next.
“Anyway,” Sean continued, “how hard is it to leave walls blank? They can paint it white or something and then when we bring the artists in, they can change it to whatever.”
“That’ll work. You still coming home tomorrow?”
“That’s the plan, thank God,” Sean said. “Kate’s outside, bringing her truck around. Naturally, it’s still snowing.”
“If it makes you feel any better, it’s seventy-five here today.”
“Great. Thanks. That just caps it.” A door slammed somewhere. Sean looked to one side and shouted, “What?”
“What is it?” Mike asked.
“Karma probably,” Sean told him, his expression disgusted. “Kate just heard on the truck radio that the pass down the mountain is closed. I’m snowed in.”
Mike tried not to, but his brother looked so furious and frustrated, he couldn’t hold back the laughter. Even as Sean gave him a dirty look, Mike held up one hand and tried to stop laughing. “Sorry, sorry.”
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