by Helen Conrad
She looked suddenly lost, like a little girl who’d been told she wasn’t invited to the birthday party after all, and he immediately felt an overwhelming need to take her in his arms and comfort her.
“I…I’ll think about it,” he amended.
“Okay.” But she still looked as though she’d been slapped back, despite her good intentions. “Let me know.”
“Sure.” He moved awkwardly, wishing she would head for the door. “Listen, if you want to hang around here and look over the place some more…”
Hell! Why had he said that? There was no way he was letting her do this thing, no way he was going with her to the coast, no way he was going to let her screw up his life even more than she had already, just by being alive.
“Thanks,” she said, looking a little more chipper. “I’ll just take a look at the bedrooms and then leave. Okay?”
The bedrooms. He had to get out of here. He shrugged and jammed his hat on his head, turning to go.
“I’ve got to see a girl about some honey bees,” he muttered, and then he was out of the house, stomping toward the truck where Jancy was lifting the project into the bed.
What had he done now? He’d given Becky permission to peek right into his private life. He was going to regret this. No doubt about it.
Chapter Six
He was in line at the Cozy Coffee Hut the next morning when he sensed a presence, turned, and found Becky smiling at him, an impish sparkle in her eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she challenged. “I thought you were the type who never came into town, and now you’ve done it twice this week.”
“I come into town all the time,” he said defensively, then checked the urge to counter everything she said and shook his head. “That’s not true.” He gave her a rueful smile. “I usually hate coming into town. I like it out in the open, sitting on a horse. That’s how I want to live my life.”
The laughter faded from her face and she looked at him earnestly, as though really trying to understand. “So?” she prodded. “What brings you in, sans horse?”
He shrugged and looked around the crowded coffee shop. “I don’t know. I just got the feeling I ought to engage a little more. You know what I mean? Be a part of things. So I don’t end up being an old geezer who has no idea what’s going on in the world.”
Her dimples showed again. “Good on ya’, mate,” she said, nodding and affecting an Australian accent. “I like the way you think.”
“Next,” said the barista, giving Tyler an appreciative smile. “What’ll it be?”
“Try the pomegranate latte,” Becky advised. “It’s scrumptious and it’s seasonal. Now or never.”
He gave her a look. “Black coffee,” he said, but Becky leaned forward and said, “I’ll have the pomegranate latte, medium. In fact, I’ll have two.” She gazed up at Tyler, sideways and through her lashes. “You’re going to love it,” she said.
“Not a chance,” he responded, but a smile was trying to break through his hardened reserve.
“Oh well. If you’re so set on wasting money.” She stuck with him and he understood that she expected him to pay the bill. A moment later they made their way to a table and sat down with their drinks.
“You sure have become a bossy person,” he griped lightly as she pushed the pomegranate concoction in front of him. “You just love ordering people around, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Yup. Especially big men who think they know it all and don’t have a clue.” She leaned on her elbows and gazed at him happily. “I’ve made a new resolution. Tyler Carrington, I’m going to change your life.”
He looked at her, startled. “Why not change your own instead?”
She shrugged. “I can do both at the same time.”
There’d been a time—oh, about twenty-four hours ago—when he would have reacted badly to all this. But something was different now. He looked into her sweet dark eyes and he grinned. “I’ll bet you can,” he admitted. “But I won’t go down without a fight.”
Her eyes widened. “You promise?” she teased.
He laughed.
“Just you wait mister Tyler Carrington. Just you wait until I get started on your house. I’ve got big ideas.”
She was looking at him sideways again, up through those long black eyelashes, and he realized something that set him back on his heels. She was flirting with him. The warmth of that thought seeped down into his soul. She was flirting with him, and he liked it.
And he liked the pomegranate latte, too, though not enough to drink more than a few sips. But he did try it. And it didn’t choke him.
“Do you remember that time we drove up to Cal together to watch Shane’s big game? Do you remember what happened?”
He winced. That was actually a weekend he tried to forget.
“I remember,” he said gruffly.
“You were staying in Marci’s brother’s room in the dorm and I was staying with Shane.”
“Uh huh.”
“Until about three in the morning when I came knocking on your door, having hysterics because Shane and I had a huge blowup and I had no one else to turn to.”
“Uh huh.”
He remembered it only too well. That was when Becky was finally forced to come face to face with the fact that Shane had girls on call like most guys had beers in the fridge. He may have claimed to be committed to her, but he had plenty of recreation material on the side.
It had also been when Tyler had decided his supposed friendship with Shane was truly over. Watching Becky’s pain and misery had been the final straw.
But he didn’t think Becky knew that. She was wrapped up in her own sense of betrayal that weekend.
“And you took me in to that room,” she was saying softly, leaning close, “and you took me into that bed, and held me all night while I cried. Remember?”
“I remember.”
She stared at him, hard. “You held me so tenderly and you never even tried anything.”
“You were Shane’s girl.” The pain of that statement, the regret, the missed chances—it tore him up inside.
“Uh huh.”
“I don’t claim it was easy,” he said a bit defensively.
She stared at him for a long moment, then threw back her head and laughed aloud. “Oh Tyler,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You’re such a good guy.”
He made a bittersweet grimace. “Yeah, St. Tyler, that’s me. That’s why I never get the girl.”
“Never?”
He shook his head. “Hardly ever,” he amended and she smiled again.
Becky’s car was out in front of his house again when he rode in that afternoon. What the heck was she up to now? He really had to tell her not to show up and take over his life every time she had an urge to boss him around. He could see that she’d found a way in on her own, which wasn’t hard, since he hardly ever locked it, with the way he came and went.
He handed off his horse to Jancy and walked over to the house. As he approached, he heard singing.
That stopped him cold. He stood where he was for a good three-four minutes, listening. It was Becky alright, and she was doing something in the kitchen, and singing her heart out while she worked.
Just like—just like his mother used to. Every evening, doing the dishes, every morning, packing up lunches for him or for Sandy to take to school, she was always singing, pouring warmth and love into her family, making everything feel alright.
He’d forgotten about that. And suddenly, missing it—and his mother—was like a fire in his heart. Pain and regret shuddered through him and emotion welled up in his chest, choking him. For a moment, he didn’t think that he could go on in and face her.
But he had to. She would know he’d been here. And he had to tell her to stop. She couldn’t do this to him all the time. Taking a deep breath, he went up the steps and in the front door.
“Tyler? Is that you?” she called out.
“Yeah.” He stopped, wiping his eyes. They were
filling with tears. He swore softly, repeatedly, forcing that nonsense to stop.
“Come on in here. I’m just pulling down wallpaper.”
He looked for an escape, but there was no sense in pretending. Walking slowly, he went into the kitchen. She was up on the counter, pulling paper from high on the walls, her adorable rounded bottom encased in tiny white shorts, her incredibly sexy breasts held back by a red halter top. He stopped short when he saw her. Emotion sat like a lump in his throat.
She turned and looked at him, and then she dropped what she was doing and slid down to sit on the counter instead.
“What is it?” she said, stiffening as she saw his red eyes and the wetness around them. “What happened?”
His smile was wobbly. How could he explain? “I…you…you were singing.”
“Was I?” She thought for a second. “An old Buddy Holly song, wasn’t it? ‘Everyday and getting closer’.”
He nodded, coming right up to where she was sitting. Everything in him longed to touch her. “Like a roller coaster,” he murmured looking into her eyes. A song about love growing between two people. Funny she would have picked that one.
She smiled at him. “Gee, I didn’t know that one was a heartbreaker.”
He hesitated. Should he tell her the truth? Would she take offense? Or decide he was a wuss? Hell, he was through hiding things from people.
“Sorry about…” he waved his hand, meaning to apologize for everything. “It just got to me to hear you singing like that in this kitchen.” He took a steadying breath. “My mother used to sing all the time. It just brought her back so clear and it…” He patted his chest. “It hit me in heart.” His voice broke and he blinked hard to try and clear his vision.
“Tyler.”
He wasn’t sure how it happened, but suddenly her arms were open, inviting him in and her legs were apart where she sat on the counter, so that he could pull in right up to her, and they fit so well together it was scary. His hips were right against her crotch and he knew he couldn’t stay there long or there’d be hell to pay. But she held him to her and lifted her face and then he was kissing her and….
Years of pent-up yearning came bubbling up in him. He wanted her so badly, and yet it would have killed him to take her now. It was all wrong and he would hate himself and he knew it. The kiss was all he was going to take from her. She was Shane’s girl—and he was supposed to be Shane’s best friend. It just wasn’t right.
But the kiss was good—so good, all hot and smooth, like a shot of warmed brandy, tingling and sexy, like a soft hand running across his naked chest, pure excitement, like a winning touchdown.
Touchdown.
Hell. He shouldn’t be doing this.
He pulled back, out of breath, heart pounding, and she looked up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable as though the kiss had shocked her, too.
“Becky, I’m sorry,” he began, trying to explain, trying to understand what was happening himself.
She scrunched up her face and for a second, he wondered if she was going to cry as well. But when she opened her eyes, she was smiling.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“What about?” he said, not wanting to at all.
She looked at him and he waited for her to say Shane’s name. But she said something else.
“I know your parents died in a small plane accident a few years ago,” she said softly. “Tyler, I have a feeling you’ve never let yourself really grieve. Have you? You took over being brother and sister and mother and father to Sandy, and you never looked back. Right?” She took his hand, pulled it toward her and dropped a soft kiss into his palm. “You’ve got to let the grieving process take over for awhile,” she said. “Otherwise it will just fester and….”
He shook his head, wishing he could make her understand, wishing he understood himself. “Oh hell, Becky. I’ve grieved plenty. I don’t want to grieve any more.”
“But Tyler….”
He stared at her, then turned away. “I’ve got to go pick up Sandy. I’m late already.”
She followed him to the door. “But you’ll go with me to the coast tomorrow. Right?”
He looked back. She gave him the goofy smile she did when she was trying to talk you into things. He shook his head and smiled back. He just couldn’t help it.
“Oh hell. Okay. I’ll go with you.”
She nodded as if she’d known it all along. “Good. I’ll pick you up at one. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“And hey—I’ll have Misty pick Sandy up from school tomorrow. Okay?”
“Okay.”
As he drove off, he went back over everything he’d felt in the last half hour. It seemed like he’d lived more of his life over that small piece of time than he had in the last two years. Becky was something else. No other woman had ever got to him the way she did. No other woman ever would, as far as he could see.
The next day found the two of them driving toward the coast. In a way, he was kidnapping Becky, just like Misty had wanted him to do. He’d even convinced her to let him do the driving so that he’d have some control over the return trip. And Misty had been texting him messages all day about logistics.
“Don’t bring her back at exactly 7:30. Try for 7:35, ok?”
“Be sure to flash your lights as you drive up, so we can get ready to jump out.”
“You don’t think she might notice that?” he’d texted her back.
“Maybe. But by then it’ll all disappear in the noise.”
“If you say so.”
Misty was busy overplaying it, as usual. But what the heck-it was going to be fun seeing the look on Becky’s face. Though that assumed she hadn’t figured out what was going on, and knowing Becky, he would be a bit surprised if she hadn’t.
But she was already in a great mood. She’d scored a new contract that very morning.
“Another one of your cousins,” she told him. “If it weren’t for Carringtons I’d be out on a corner with my little cup.”
“Which one is buying your expertise this time?”
“Cheyenne. She’s marrying Lee Markham. Do you remember him?”
“Kind of silver hair, handsome face?”
“That’s him. Way older than she is.”
“That’s a surprise. I thought she and Johnny Cameron were pledged to each other by blood rituals and moon dances or something. They always seemed eerily connected, even when they were real young.” He frowned. “But come to think of it, I don’t think he’s been around lately. Funny.”
She nodded. “I don’t know for sure what happened, but you can bet I’ll have the whole story about the time I finish redecorating her house.”
He laughed. “No doubt about it.”
In the meantime, she was going to show him what she’d done to his cousin Reid’s new beach house in Destiny Bay. The beautiful redwood and glass structure was built on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Tyler whistled his appreciation as they drove up the drive.
“That’s some place.”
“Isn’t it though? I just love it.” She glanced over at Tyler. “Reid and Jennifer are great, too. And the twins. Too bad they’re on vacation in Hawaii, so you won’t get to see them.”
He pulled into a parking space and turned to look at her. Her cheeks were bright red and she was avoiding his gaze.
“Becky,” he began, frowning at her. Had she set this whole thing up on purpose? Well, of course she had.
“Hush.” She put her index finger over his lips. “Don’t say a word. It isn’t like I can force you into anything you know.”
He stared at her for a long moment and then he began to laugh.
“Well, come on,” she said. “I’ve got a key. Let’s go in.”
He followed her, helping her carry in some last minute decorating supplies she’d brought along. His heart was thumping. She might not be planning to force him into anything, but it was pretty clear what she was hoping for.
And what was he hoping? He didn�
��t dare look at that.
It was a funny thing. He’d been doing a lot of thinking. He hadn’t been able to sleep the night before and he’d done a lot of walking out under the stars. It made a man feel small out there, with everything in the heavens so huge, so beautiful. But it helped him think.
What did he actually want? What did he want his life to be? Who did he have to have in it to make him feel happy and lucky and fulfilled-and important? And what was he willing to give up to get it?
He knew one thing. He’d finally faced it. He wanted Becky. He wanted her more than anything and he’d wanted her since he was fourteen.
What was he willing to do to get her?
Once more, the chance was there. Was he going to let it slip away again? Or was he going to grow a pair and take advantage of his opportunity?
His mouth was dry and his pulse was racing. She showed him around, pointing out the work she’d done, the beautiful view out over the sparkling ocean, the colors she’d used, the textures, the patterns. And he nodded and said how beautiful everything was and at the same time, he wasn’t paying the slightest attention to anything. Anything other than the way her hair curled against the beautiful skin of her neck and how her eyes widened every time she saw something that delighted her, and how her breasts looked peeking out from behind that lacy bra he could see every time she twisted to point out something new.
She glanced at him nervously as the tour came to an end. They were in the master bedroom.
“Look at this,” she said, flopping down on the bed. “From here you can see all the way to heaven.”
He hesitated. This wasn’t his bed. But she reached for him and he found himself sliding down beside her. They both lay on their stomachs and looked out through the huge plate glass wall into the limitless sky.
“It feels like flying,” she whispered.
He wanted to put his arm around her, but he wasn’t sure yet. Something was missing. If this was going to be a day where they faced the truth about things, there was one more truth to deal with.
Neither one of them spoke for a long time. Finally, he looked over at her and said softly, “Becky. What about Shane?”