My Kind of You (A Trillium Bay Novel Book 1)

by Tracy Brogan

  That should be insulting, but Bryce was right. Ryan was cheerful, and he was doing it with the bimbo’s sister. In fact, he’d just walked her home, sneaking around through shrubberies and along the back side of hotels so no one would spot them. It was like a college walk of shame all over again, only this time he didn’t feel any shame. He just felt good.

  “Relax, Bryce. It’s not a problem. Everything is fine.”

  “Fine? So that means you’ve convinced Dad not to retire?”

  “No, he’s still retiring, as far as I know, but at least so far the chief of police hasn’t thrown him off the bridge.”

  “Go back to sleep, honey,” Bryce said softly to his wife. “It’s just Ryan, and he’s high on dopamine. What? No, not dope. Dopamine. Never mind. Go back to sleep.”

  “Tell Trish I’m sorry I woke her up,” Ryan said.

  “You should be sorry, and you should also be sorry that you haven’t talked any sense into Dad. I’m going to send Jack out there.”

  “No, you don’t need to. Listen, Dad is nearly finished with this Clairmont Hotel job, and once that’s over, he’ll be mostly done here anyway. I think he and Lilly have some trips planned or something. He was sketchy on the details.”

  “Of course he was, but there’s still the Mahoney job. That’s going to take months. Are you planning to stay for that? Or go back and forth, or what?”

  This was the part Ryan didn’t want to get into, but realistically, the sooner Bryce knew, the better. “I think there is a distinct possibility that the Mahoney deal is a no-go. We’ve run into some complications.”

  “What? Why? You said it was a slam-dunk.” Ryan could hear Bryce get up out of bed, and then he heard the sliding glass door open and close. His brother must have walked out onto their balcony.

  “The spot they want to put that bed-and-breakfast is a prime location, but a three-story building will ruin the view for the cottages behind it.”

  “So, that’s up to the people in those cottages to deal with. Not our problem as long as the zoning is in place, and you said that was already handled. You said the hundred-and-ten-year-old lady had already signed to make the sale.”

  “She’s a hundred and two, and yes she signed, but I just don’t feel right about it.”

  “What is it you’re not telling me?”

  Bryce knew him too well.

  “Look, Emily has been renovating this cottage for her grandmother. She’s put a lot of work into it, and if we build a bed-and-breakfast in that location, the value of Emily’s place is going to plummet. It’ll go from having an unobstructed view of the lake and the bridge to being a view of the back side of someone else’s property.”

  “Are you telling me that you want to let this lucrative deal fall through just because you got a case of the feels for some woman?”

  “That’s ironic coming from a guy who’s been married three times. Are you telling me you didn’t do that, three times, because you had a case of the feels?”

  Bryce coughed. “Sure, I got married, but I never gave up any business deals. I’m not an idiot. You need to look at this strategically. You said that place behind the B and B is a rental anyway. It’s not like you’re ruining the view for someone’s house, and you said she was a flipper, so she probably doesn’t have any attachment to the place anyhow. If she’s as smart and savvy of a businesswoman as you’ve said, she’ll understand that this is just business. You’re overreacting.”

  Ryan was starting to feel defensive. He didn’t want Bryce to talk him out of this. He owed it to Emily. “I’m not. I’m telling you this contract with the Mahoneys needs to go away. Emily wants the property for herself, and she needs it more than we do.”

  “What? How do you figure that?”

  “She and her grandmother want to buy it. Emily’s going to renovate it, and they’ll turn it into another rental cottage.”

  “But we’ve already bought it for our own client. Ryan, if you back out of this deal, those Mahoney women could sue us. Besides, I’ve looked over the specs, and this is a great project. You’ll be in and out in a few months, and then we’re free and clear. Just tell your bed buddy to buy a different cottage. I’m sure that place isn’t the only one. She’ll understand. Now, it’s four fifteen and I’ve got about forty-five minutes to sleep before the baby wakes up, and then I’ll have to wake Trish up to take care of him, and that always makes Trish grouchy, so I’m hanging up now. I’ll call you later, and do not under any circumstances cancel that Mahoney deal.”

  Ryan started to argue but realized he was talking to air. Bryce was gone. That conversation went pretty much the way he’d expected. The business side of his brain agreed with his brother. The deal was too good and too easy for Taggert Property Management to give up for such a flimsy reason. The other side of his brain, the side that was all clouded with images of Emily in the bed beside him, had him all turned around. He needed to tell her about the contract, and soon, because she was flying back to San Antonio any day now to close on that other house. He’d talk to her about it tonight. Bryce was right. She was smart and practical. She’d understand. It wasn’t a personal thing. It was just business.

  Chapter 29

  All the memories of sneaking around as a teenager came back to Emily as she ducked her head and walked through the lobby of the Rosebush Hotel. It was nearing dinnertime, and they’d decided to have, as Ryan had termed it, room service and romance, so she now found herself standing outside his hotel room door. She lifted her hand to knock, but the door opened and he pulled her in, slammed it shut, and pressed her against it.

  She gasped at the pressure. “Why, hello, Mr. Taggert.”

  “Hello, Miss Chambers,” he said, smiling. “I’ve heard it said that courting here on Trillium Bay tends to go at a slower pace, but you’re in my room now. I don’t think those rules apply.”

  “That’s awfully bossy of you.” She put her hands on his hips and pulled him close.

  A low, satisfied groan came from his throat. “Maybe, but something tells me we’re on the same page here.”

  “I believe we are.”

  “Good, because I have been thinking about you all damn day.”

  “Me too. Same page.”

  The door thumped in its frame as he leaned forward to kiss her, sending shock waves of pleasure pulsing through her body and scattering her thoughts.

  He was so very good at this.

  She pushed at him, and he looked startled, until he realized she was pushing him toward the bed. His gaze turned hungry as he pulled his shirt up and over his head.

  Damn, she’d never get tired of seeing that, seeing the planes and valleys of his torso. He dropped his shirt on the floor and pulled her toward him.

  “I like that dress,” he said.

  “Do you?” She reached up and pushed one tiny strap off her shoulder.

  “Yes. Very much.”

  “That’s nice.” She flicked the other strap off her shoulder and let it slide down. It caught on her hips, and Ryan watched, mesmerized as she hooked her thumbs and eased it the rest of the way down.

  “Damn,” he breathed, and Emily felt both powerful and powerless under his gaze. So many obstacles could ultimately pull them apart, but all of them were meaningless because of all that pulled them together. Ryan wrapped his arms around her, and as they tumbled to the mattress, Emily Chambers realized she wasn’t just falling into bed. Damned if she wasn’t falling in love.

  “I think we need that room service now. Are you hungry?” Ryan asked sometime later as they lay entwined, bedsheets twisted around them.

  “After that? I’m famished.”

  He laughed and kissed her again, nearly setting off a chain reaction that would have delayed food another half an hour at least. She pushed at his chest.

  “Seriously. I’m legit starving. I need some food.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll call right now.” He leaned over the side of the bed to find his phone from somewhere in that pile of clothes. Emily l
ooked over so she might fully appreciate the fascinating way Ryan’s muscles flexed as he did that. At last he found the phone, tugging it from the pocket of a pair of jeans. “Hey, my brother called. I was supposed to get in touch with him this afternoon, and I’m sure he’s in a frenzy. Do you mind if I give him a quick call back after I order us some food?”

  “Of course I don’t mind. Would you mind if I jumped in the shower?”

  “Not if you don’t mind if I join you.”

  “I’m never going to get to eat, am I?”

  “I promise I will let you eat. What do you want?”

  “Surprise me,” she said as she pulled on his T-shirt and walked toward the bathroom.

  “I love a woman who lets me be in charge,” he called after her.

  “Don’t get used to it,” she replied before shutting the door.

  The bathroom was tiny, and the big floral pattern of the wallpaper made it seem smaller still. The shower was hardly big enough for her, let alone her and Ryan, so Emily decided to just rinse off quickly and then let him have his turn. She was in and out in five minutes, and she could hear him on the phone as she toweled off. She glanced in the mirror, wondering how much effort it was going to take to make herself presentable. She needed to get dressed and get back to Gigi’s place without her grandmother, and especially her daughter, realizing what she’d been up to.

  “I tried to tell you that earlier, Bryce, but you were zoned out on Ambien. They’re just little old ladies. I think I can handle them,” she heard Ryan say. It seemed an odd statement, and she couldn’t help but lean closer to the door to hear what else he was saying. And then she wished she hadn’t.

  “No, Dad’s drawings are for a three-story bed-and-breakfast right in front of the place Emily is working on.” He laughed at something his brother said, and added, “Yeah, the pink house with the old lady in it, but that’s why these Mahoney sisters are so anxious for us to build on it. I’ve talked to them myself, and they’d be willing to lose money if it would screw over the Callaghans. Some sort of old island rivalry.”

  Emily’s heart, which only moments before had been thumping so happily at thoughts of Ryan, suddenly dropped down to the floor. What did he just say? A bed-and-breakfast right in front of Gigi’s cottage? The Mahoney sisters?

  She had to be wrong. She must have misheard.

  She finished drying herself off and wrapped the towel around her. Ryan was quiet for a few minutes, listening to his brother, and then she heard him speak again. “Yes, we already bought the property. Quite frankly, I can’t believe it’s still a secret, the way these islanders gossip. That’s why the Mahoneys are so insistent we not let anyone in Trillium Bay know that they’re our client. It’s all very cloak-and-dagger.”

  He laughed again, and they continued with the conversation. Emily hadn’t heard wrong. He was working for the Mahoneys. How could he not tell her that? He knew she was interested in that cottage, but judging from what he’d said, his company already owned it. That didn’t make any sense. It didn’t make any sense at all. Humiliation washed over her like the hot water of the shower, and her breath went shallow. He’d completely misled her, and she could not think of one defendable reason why he might have done that. So all she could think about now was getting out of that room.

  She came out of the bathroom, and he looked her way, his smile mischievous as he noted her towel. He was sitting in the chair near the window with his feet up on the sill. He had put his shorts back on, and she suddenly felt very vulnerable and very naked.

  “I have to go now, Bryce. Better things to do than talk to you. Yeah, we’ll work out those details later.” He tossed the phone to the bed and stood up. “Hey, sorry that took so long. Bryce always wants to talk business.” He stepped toward her and kissed her neck, and she wanted to slap his face away. He should have told her about that property. Why would he not just tell her? But maybe she was still wrong. She had to be wrong. His words went round and round in her head as she struggled to come to any other conclusion.

  “I know you Taggerts are all about business,” she said, noting the flat tone to her own voice. She couldn’t hide it.

  Ryan stepped back and looked at her. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine. The shower is too small for two. I need to get dressed.”

  “Okay, yeah. I’m just going to hop in there, then. Make yourself at home, and I’ll be out in a flash. I ordered us enough food for five people. You’ll need the energy.” He smiled again, but she just nodded. His smiled dimmed a bit. “It should arrive pretty soon. You sure you’re good?”

  She nodded vigorously. She should just ask him, but she knew what she’d heard, and she didn’t want to listen to him spin it. She didn’t want to listen to him justify why it wasn’t personal. It was just business, but it felt personal to her. He knew what she’d poured into that remodel, and he was going to ruin it? Just so the Mahoney sisters could have a bed-and-breakfast? She had to be wrong.

  She offered up a lame smile. “Yes. I’m good. Go take your shower.”

  He closed the door behind him, and she pulled on her clothes as quickly as she could, her mind racing over random possibilities. She looked at the desk in the corner of the room. It was covered with papers, right out in the open. So what would be the harm in looking? She pulled her shoes on and found her feet walking her in that direction. There were some drawings of the interior of Gigi’s place with ideas he hadn’t shown her, and there were some sketches of the outside with a few modifications.

  Some papers from the bottom of the stack were dog-eared and torn at the edges, as if they’d been carried around in a binder that wasn’t quite big enough. She thought of Ryan’s overstuffed computer bag and all the papers that had been sticking out of that when he’d walked into the Wawatam airport. She pulled them out to get a better look, and the stone that had been in her gut for the past fifteen minutes grew sharp claws. These were drawings of a three-story bed-and-breakfast, sitting right where the pink cottage was now. There were landmarks on the drawings, like the old lilac tree she’d pointed out to Ryan from the window of Gigi’s rental. There was no mistaking it.

  She needed some air. She needed some distance to think. She pulled open the drawer of the nightstand to find a pen and some paper and quickly scrawled Ryan a note.

  Sorry. Something’s come up. I had to head home. I’ll catch up with you later.

  It was the coward’s way out, and she hated that. She was a face-it-head-on kind of woman, but right now she had to step away from the scene of this crime to even decide how she felt before discussing it with him. She left the note next to his phone and quietly left, shutting the hotel room door with a significant click.

  Where the hell was she? Ryan looked around the small room for a minute before seeing the note on the bed. Something’s come up? He hoped it wasn’t serious. Or something having to do with Chloe. He dialed Emily’s phone, but it went straight to voice mail.

  “Hey, it’s me. I hope everything is okay. Call me back when you can.”

  Room service knocked on the door, and Ryan resigned himself to eating alone. He was tempted to go over to Gigi’s house just to make sure everything was all right. Why hadn’t she at least knocked on the bathroom door to tell him she was leaving? Unrest swirled in his gut.

  They’d just had a really good time together, right? A really good time. They’d been enjoying each other’s company for weeks now, and each time he saw her, he wanted her more and more. He thought he’d made that abundantly clear.

  So why the abrupt departure? Why leave without saying goodbye? He read the note a few more times, but it was nothing much to go on. He looked around the room, searching for clues, but nothing caught his eye. It was just a regular hotel room with all his regular stuff. His suitcase, his clothes, his computer and computer bag, the stack of papers and the drawings from his dad. Nothing unusual to explain why she might have left here.

  There was nothing much he could do about it from here, and odds were g
ood that it was nothing more serious than Chloe being legit upset about something minor or Gigi needing somebody to make her a martini. Emily would call him later, or she would call him tomorrow.

  He ate his dinner, and then he ate hers, and he wished she was there. In fact, he pretty much always wished she was there. All the time. If she moved back to this island, well, that wasn’t terribly convenient. Truthfully, neither was San Antonio if he lived in Sacramento. And he couldn’t leave Sacramento. That was his home. It’s where his brothers were and his friends. He didn’t want to leave all that behind. Sure, he traveled more days than not, but it was still home. Then again, maybe home had less to do with location and more to do with who you were with. And all he knew right now was that whenever Emily was in his arms, that felt like home to him.

  Chapter 30

  Emily slumped over the kitchen table nursing a martini that Gigi had made for her. It was bitter and harsh and suited her mood perfectly. She’d left Ryan’s hotel room and gone straight to Bridget O’Malley’s house to ask about the sale of her little pink cottage. Now Emily almost wished she hadn’t.

  “So, just so I’m clear,” Gigi said, “Ryan told Bridget O’Malley that his company purchased her land to build a bed-and-breakfast there, and they intend to call it the O’Malley House?” Gigi was on her second martini, but being a professional drinker, it didn’t seem to alter her personality that much. Emily, on the other hand, was feeling the effects from just a few sips. Maybe that was because Ryan had never fed her. The liar. The trickster. The bastard.

  “Yes, Gigi. Mrs. O’Malley even showed me the drawings, and they were almost identical to the ones I saw in Ryan’s room.”

  “Do we need to talk about what you were doing in Ryan’s room?”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “I thought as much. Well, nonetheless, are you sure he mentioned the Mahoney sisters? Bridget would never sell anything to them. I once saw her refuse to sell April a rice crispy treat at a bake sale.”