Here Comes Trouble

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Here Comes Trouble Page 18

by Donna Kauffman


  “Well, now that I’m bringing my world to yours, I can hardly ask that you take me separately from all that. And you might as well know what you’re really getting into.”

  “Such as?”

  “In order to pull this off, it needs to be an event. A big event.”

  Kirby still hadn’t wrapped her mind around all of the ramifications of Brett’s offered solution as yet. Heck, she hadn’t even wrapped her mind around the basic concept that Brett would be willing to do any of this for her in the first place. They hardly knew one another. She didn’t know him well enough to know for certain if this was a truly selfless act, or perhaps a step he wanted or needed to take for himself. Then again, if it got her what she needed, and helped him in some way, wasn’t that a win-win proposition? What did she care what he got out of it, if it solved her immediate problems?

  “How big is big? I assume it will help the resort, since they’re hurting pretty big, too. And their continued success is vital for my continued success, so that’s all a good thing. And the town wins, too, with increased revenue, however briefly, from more visitors coming and spending their money here. What else do I need to know?”

  He ducked his chin for a moment, and Kirby wondered again about his stake in this. He had, on the surface, anyway, left poker playing behind. Did he want to go back? Was this a way to ease himself back into the limelight and possibly garner the goodwill and support of event coordinators who might have been less than thrilled with his sudden defection from the game?

  But then he was looking at her again, and there was nothing in his expression to help her decide. Only what he had to say, which was, “You know from Thad that I’m well known in that world.”

  “All I know is what Thad said. If that’s what you’re wondering. I haven’t Googled you or anything. But yes, I did get the impression that you were something of a rock star in Vegas.”

  “Poker tournaments are played all over, but even outside of Nevada, there is always a Vegas element to it all. I call it seedy glamour. Those are our roots, and while we might have dressed it up quite a bit over the years, scratch just below the surface and it really hasn’t strayed too far from that.”

  “Are you saying that Pennydash is too conservative to handle a little flash?”

  Brett chuckled at that. “Sweetheart, where I come from there’s no such thing as a ‘little flash.’ But no, I wasn’t speaking to the conservative bent of the area, though that might make a few folks uneasy, so it shouldn’t be discounted. I meant that it will be a spectacle by anyone’s standards, and everyone on board would need to understand that.”

  She sat her empty container in the sink. “Define spectacle.”

  “In addition to some very flashy players and, in some cases, the ridiculous entourages that come with them, you’ll have the promoters, who rarely say no to bling in any form, and that includes the complete media circus in all its many forms.”

  “So, you’re saying we’ll be overrun with paparazzi or something?”

  “Possibly.”

  “For poker?” She lifted a hand. “That sounded like an insult, it wasn’t. I just meant—”

  “The sports media will be there for the regular pros. The paps come out for the Hollywood celebrities. You might be surprised by how many of them play at a pretty high level. Promoters love them because they raise the buy-in.”

  “Buy-in?”

  “Players have to pay to enter the tournament. A ten-thousand buy-in is normal once you get to a certain level. And the more players buying in, the bigger the pots.”

  “Ten thousand? Dollars? Just to play?”

  He nodded. “And for many celebrities, that’s chump change, so it’s like their version of going to Disney for the weekend. Only the rides are a little more exciting.”

  “So…you’re planning on inviting celebrities? I mean, ones known outside your field?”

  He nodded. “It’s for charity. It will be a no-brainer, trust me. And I’ll get some pretty serious poker names here, too.”

  “Because of charity?”

  “Partly. There are some pretty big philanthropists in the upper echelons.”

  “Including you?”

  “I make it a point to give back, yes.”

  “So, am I your current charity, then?” She wasn’t exactly insulted by it. She could hardly afford to be, and she knew his heart was in the right place.

  “I don’t look at charity perhaps the same way you do. I like to give a helping hand or a leg up when I can. Folks did that for me, so it’s just giving back. I simply have the good fortune of being able to give back a lot.”

  “That’s pretty great. And even greater that you do. I’m not even sure where to start in saying thank you. You’ve saved my life. Twice.”

  “Just help me get this thing up and running. If it helps you get through this initial hump with the inn, helps the town and the resort get through this opening season, and supports a worthwhile cause at the same time, then it’s all worth it. You have many more winters to weather. I’m just helping you through this first one.”

  “As leg ups go, it’s a pretty big one. I don’t know what to say.”

  “I think we’re good on that score.”

  She felt her eyes begin to burn a little, and she’d be damned if she cried in front of him every time things got a little emotional. She felt like an idiot for the whole shower thing yesterday. Sure, it had been a monumental moment for her, but he must have thought she was at least a little pathetic. And now, today, he was trying to rescue her. Again.

  She felt, strongly, that this…relationship, if she could call it that, wasn’t anything like what she’d fallen into with Patrick. With what she’d allowed her life to become while being part of his. She tried, hard, to cling to what Brett had said, about finding opportunities and choosing to take advantage of them. He was here; he was willing to help. And whatever he got out of the deal would have nothing to do with her when it was all said and done. Totally, completely, different from Patrick. Not a rescue. More like a joining of forces. Because she was a force.

  Even if, at the moment, she felt like a force on the verge of becoming a failure.

  Brett finished brewing his coffee and she thought back over what he’d said. “The other players,” she said, thinking out loud, “you said some of them would come to support a good cause, but most of them are going to come to get a chance to play against you, aren’t they?”

  He took a careful sip of his coffee, then turned back to face her. “Yes.” Neither humble nor arrogant. He’d said it like a simply stated fact.

  “How long has it been since you played?”

  “Long enough to make folks hungry.”

  She didn’t push, but she was unabashedly curious to know more about his world. “You’ve really thought that part of this through? I don’t want you doing anything rash in the heat of the moment.”

  “I’m very well aware of what I’m doing.”

  She tilted her head. “That’s kind of a non-answer.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  So, she decided, this was how he was going to go with it now. He’d made his past fair game for her, but he was going to be all about the facts and just the facts, ma’am. She could hardly be picky. But it only served to make her more curious, not less. She decided it might be less awkward all around if she did her own digging on the subject of his career, get her own answers. And, if possible, do as he’d initially asked, and use what time they did have together to get to know him, outside of all that.

  “What’s on the agenda today for you?” he asked.

  “Cleaning the rooms.”

  He lifted a questioning eyebrow.

  “Yes, I’m aware the inn isn’t exactly overflowing, but the rooms have to be dusted, swept, polished, fluffed. I can’t have someone just stroll in unannounced and then make them wait in the foyer while I rush up to make sure there’s no dust on the furniture. I need to keep it guest-ready at all times.”

  �
�I think about what the workload would be like if the place was full. Were you planning on hiring help? Like cleaning or cooking?”

  “I was, during the busy season. But I planned on doing as much of it myself as I could, too. I like keeping busy—the busier the better. Less time to think.” She hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud, and when his gaze narrowed a bit on her, she rushed on. “It’s actually kind of fun, all the rushing around and making things right for my guests. I enjoy the noise and the general chaos of it all. It feels…vital. And I like being in the middle of all that.”

  Brett’s gaze stayed quite focused on Kirby, and she realized she was holding her breath, waiting for whatever question he lobbed her way. She could hardly duck it, given the open stance he’d now taken with her where anything having to do with him was fair game. He already knew about Patrick, but all he understood was the basic context, that she’d been betrayed by someone who was supposed to have her best interests at heart. And she was good with that.

  He saw a lot, too much, at times, so she was braced. Which was why what he did say came as a complete surprise. “Other than the screen, do you have any other stuff that needs to get done?”

  “You—have got to be kidding. I couldn’t possibly ask anything else of you.”

  “You aren’t asking. I’m offering. I am generally happiest when I have projects to work on.”

  “I’d say you have a pretty big one at the moment.”

  “Initially it’s going to be a bunch of phone calls.” He smiled. “I like to work with my hands.”

  She couldn’t help it, she smiled, too. And flushed, maybe a little. “Yes, well, that’s great, but I can’t just—”

  “Kirby.” He sat down his empty coffee mug and walked over to where she stood, still by the sink.

  She liked how much bigger he was; it gave her this private little thrill every time he got into her personal space. She wondered if he could read that on her face, too. “What?” she replied gamely.

  “You can just. You like to stay busy because it keeps you from having to think. I like to stay busy because it helps me think. I can’t sit and stare at the walls.” He stepped even closer. Then he lifted the hair from her neck and ears with the backs of his hands as he slid his fingers around to her nape.

  It was all she could do not to moan a little as he brushed his fingertips over such sensitive skin.

  “So, you can either go clean rooms while I bang nails into something…or we can go mess up a few rooms first. And I can work off this pent-up energy in an entirely different way.”

  By banging me, she thought, and her entire body stood up and shouted yes. Emphatically so. She had every intention of smiling and saying no. She had an inn to save. Now was not the time to be frolicking naked with carefree abandon. So, it came as a surprise to them both, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, when she put her hands up on his shoulders and slid them around to the back of his neck and said, “I’ve found that dusting and scrubbing is a highly overrated method of distraction.”

  “I find I couldn’t agree more.” He leaned in and kissed her, quite soundly, then made her squeal by lifting her up into his arms.

  “Brett—”

  He managed to nudge open the door to the narrow back stairway. “This feels rather indecent somehow, doesn’t it?” He looked down into her face, and his eyes were fully sparkling, his smile wide, and he’d never looked more handsome to her.

  “Wicked, yes,” she said. “Having your way with the backstairs help.”

  “Hold on.” He slid her legs around, but when they both wouldn’t fit on the skinny risers, he made her squeal again and grab at his belt loops as he slipped her over his shoulder.

  “I can walk,” she said breathlessly.

  “Where’s the wicked fun in that?”

  They passed the door to the first floor. He wasn’t even out of breath. She still hadn’t found hers. “Where are we going?”

  “I thought we’d start at the top. My room.” He pushed through the narrow door at the top of the stairs, then bumped open his own door, which he hadn’t closed all the way, and kicked it shut behind him. He laid her out on his bed and followed her down. “Then we can work our way down,” he added. “What do you say?”

  He was already pushing up her shirt and sliding down her body.

  “I think…working our way down…could be a very good idea,” she said on a breathless laugh.

  He unzipped her pants and slipped them down her hips, taking her panties with them.

  “Inspired, even,” she managed to gasp as he kissed his way back up her inner thigh.

  It was impossible to believe that a mere hour ago all hope had seemed lost…and now, not only was there a plan to save her inn, but the gorgeous, sexy man responsible for saving it was about to make love to her. Again.

  He slid his tongue over her as his hands moved up under her shirt and over her rock-hard nipples. She arched her back and lost all track of any thought she might have ever had as he took her body on that sweet, sweet climb. So effortlessly, so perfectly.

  Distractions, indeed.

  Chapter 12

  Definitely beat the hell out of banging nails. Maybe Dan had been onto something about that.

  Brett moved up and kissed Kirby just beneath her belly button while her body was still twitching in the aftermath of her climax. He loved how responsive she was to him. Loved. He rolled to his back and tugged her over on top of him.

  She slid down effortlessly over him, taking him deep and making them both groan as he hit all of her still-twitchy spots.

  “Sit up,” he urged.

  She lifted her head from where she’d been most delightfully kissing the side of his neck. A little wrinkle furrowed her very lovely brow.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Gravity,” she answered rather succinctly.

  It took him a moment to figure that one out, then he laughed. “Right. I want to see you. I want to see you while we do this.” He moved more deeply inside of her.

  “You can see me right now.”

  “I have seen you. All of you, I might remind you. From most angles. But right now, I’d really love to see you—” He groaned in deep gratification as she pushed on his chest and sat up, taking him even deeper as she did so.

  Her hair was wild, her face, usually so perfectly aquiline and so proper looking, was all flushed and damp, hair clung to her temples. Her nipples stood out boldly from her small but perfect breasts, and she truly looked, “Beautiful.”

  Her gaze was on his, and she smiled a little at that, then her eyes closed as he moved underneath her. She picked up his rhythm as perfectly as she’d suited him in every other way. His own eyes threatened to roll right back in his head, but he wanted to watch her. Watch her take him, come apart for him.

  He tried to think about what he was doing here, about his insane idea to launch the charity event, and why he was doing all of that, even this, with a woman he hardly knew.

  Then she opened her eyes and caught him staring at her so intently, while they were moving so intimately, so in sync, with one another. And she smiled, then she laughed, and leaned down to brace herself on his chest as she moved on him, her smile bolder, more confident, than he’d ever seen it. He gave himself completely over to her, to the moment, as she took him, directed the action, rode him…and damn, but a confident, bold, sassy Kirby was a thing to witness indeed.

  She tightened on him and her movements turned from commanding to sultry as she tipped her head back, arched into the movement with him, and allowed herself to simply be taken over by the moment. It was all he could do to hold on, to hold back, long enough for her to climb that peak again.

  She’d barely gone over the edge when he was yanked right to the brink of it himself. He tugged her down and rolled her beneath him, her moans and gasps as he kissed the hot skin on the side of her neck as he drove himself even more deeply inside of her only served to yank things up a notch, to the point he thought he mig
ht pass out from the sheer force of it when he finally came. He drove hard and deep and she met each and every thrust with equal fervor. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his hips, her nails digging into his back as she nudged him from her neck to her mouth. Their kiss, in that moment as release pounded through him, was intensely primal and so very perfect.

  He’d never once considered himself a possessive man, but right then, inside that very instant, that kiss, that final thrust, with her…he’d never wanted so badly to lay claim to another soul, to another heart, as he did with her. In fact, it was the only time he’d ever felt that way about anyone. He wanted her. In every way a man could want a woman. He wanted to have her, hold her, thrust so deeply inside of her to where he might lose his mind and all of his control, knowing without a shred of doubt that she’d take it, take him, and keep him right where he wanted most to be. He wanted to laugh with her, tease her, be teased by her.

  He wanted to love her.

  Their bodies slowed, but his mind kept racing.

  When he slid from her and rolled to his side, she followed, her body curving perfectly into his. He wrapped his arm around her, keeping them pressed closely, their slick skin gradually cooling as their heartbeats slowed.

  There were no words for that kind of communication, that effortless, natural union of mind, body, and soul. It had nothing to do with the incredible sex, and everything to do with finding that person, that one person, you could commune with on any level, by any means, verbal, nonverbal, physical, all of it, or none of it. It was just there. And he had to believe it was just like that for her, too.

  For that, for the continuation of that, for as long as was humanly possible, he discovered, he was willing to do almost anything.

  He kept her close as her breathing steadied. He stroked her hair, watched her face, knew her thoughts were winding around, and wondered where she was inside her head. “Knock knock,” he said, gently tapping on her temple. “What’s going on in there?”

 

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