by Becki Willis
“Certainly. Excellent idea, my dear, excellent idea.”
Craven came to stand beside the Senator, shaking his hand in greeting. Kenzie clicked off a shot, catching the genuine affection that surrounded the two men. The men turned toward her in pose, their hands still clasped. The twinkle in Craven’s blue eyes was for her. The charisma of his smile translated beautifully on film.
“Are you done with me now, Miss Reese?” The Senator asked after a couple of shots. “I’m afraid I’ve neglected your Ms. Harrington long enough.”
“I think we have plenty to work with, Senator. I appreciate your patience.”
“It was a pleasure, my dear. Craven, you’ll be joining us for lunch?”
“And miss out on Gwyneth’s maple stuffing? Not a chance,” Craven chuckled. He stepped away from the fireplace, telling Kenzie, “Just wait until you taste it. You’re going to love it.”
“Sounds interesting.” Kenzie began tucking away her camera equipment.
The door was still closing behind the Senator when Craven stepped close to Kenzie and pulled her into his arms. “Kenzie, where have you been? You haven’t answered my calls in days! Do you know how worried I’ve been?”
“I’m sorry. Things have been a little crazy.” She put her hand up to his chest, intending to stop him from pulling her any closer.
“I’ve been crazy, worrying about you. Don’t you realize what you mean to me?”
The light in his blue eyes was warm and intense. Kenzie closed her own eyes, gathering the courage to hurt this man she truly cared about. Before she could form the words, he mistook her shuttered eyes as an invitation to kiss her. He did so fervently, his worry and frustration expressed through his hungry mouth.
It took Kenzie a moment to react. Part of her wanted to respond; she had feelings for Craven, and they had great chemistry together. It was more companionable chemistry than sexual, but their personalities were a perfect fit. And there was no denying he was a great kisser. But the other part of her wanted to push him away, before Travis saw them and misunderstood.
She sighed inwardly. It always came back to Travis.
Craven ended the kiss abruptly. He pulled away enough to peer down at her. “Kenzie?” he asked in genuine concern. “Is everything all right?”
“Not-not really.” She broke his hold on her waist, stepping just out of his reach.
“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me what’s troubling you.”
“There’s something you should know.”
She stood with her back to the deck, but she knew the moment the door silently opened. A sudden sweep of cold air permeated the room. The frosty rime did not seep from outdoors; it blasted from the man stepping over the threshold and freezing mid-stride.
As Kenzie whirled around, her eyes flew to Travis’s dark and stormy gaze. His eyes were the only indication of his true feelings; his face was a smooth mask of indifference. Kenzie’s heart sank.
Craven straightened himself to his full height, barely two inches under Travis’s towering head; more, if you counted the Ranger’s cowboy hat.
“Thought you might need some help,” Travis said, his voice tight. “Looks like you’ve got plenty.”
He started to turn away, but Kenzie stopped him. “Don’t go!” she called out sharply. Then, more softly, “Please.”
Her heart stalled as Travis hesitated in the doorway. Kenzie darted over to Travis and took his arm. She could feel the tightly coiled tension in his body. She could see the dull stab of betrayal in his eyes. For one awful moment, she was afraid he would pull away and retreat out the door. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to understand. Begging him to trust her. When he shut the door behind him and stepped fully into the room, she released a captive breath.
But his entire body remained stiff and straight, as unyielding as a steel rod.
“I’d like you to meet someone.” She tugged him forward. “This is Chief of Staff Craven Shaw. Craven, I’d like you to meet Travis Merka.” It was difficult not to introduce him with his impressive title of Texas Ranger; he was, after all, a member of the elite group, the best of the best. Whether she had the right or not, she was proud of him and his career.
Tension hummed between the two men, so thick it was almost visible. Kenzie held her breath as she waited to see what would happen. She swallowed, wondering who would be the bigger man and extend his hand first. When she realized she was still clinging to Travis’s right arm, she quickly dropped it, willing him to make the first move. Relief flooded through her when he lifted his hand and thrust it toward the auburn haired man.
“Mr. Shaw,” he said stiffly.
“Mr. Merka.”
If Kenzie thought the situation had been awkward between Travis and the doctor three weeks ago, it was nothing compared to this affray between the lawman and the politician. Their hands slapped together, as both men flexed their strength. There was no denying the challenge that hung in the air, accentuated by their lingering grasp.
Kenzie broke the handshake by taking hold of Travis’s arm once more. “I simply had to bring Travis along. He is a huge fan of the Senator’s, isn’t that right?” Kenzie knew she was babbling, but she was nervous. She gazed up at him, trying to read the expression in his flat eyes.
“I do have plenty of questions.”
Craven smiled politely, but the sentiment never reached his eyes. “I’m sure the Senator will indulge you. He’s quite fond of Kenzie, after all.”
“He is?” Kenzie’s surprised gaze flew to his.
“Of course,” Craven said, his smile now sincere. “We all are.”
Travis did not miss the intimate tone that accompanied the last words. He shifted his arm, but Kenzie refused to turn loose. She dug her nails into his tight flesh as she turned a flirty smile to the other man. “Craven, I heard something about some wonderful lemonade. Would you mind bringing me a glass?”
“Of course not. I’ll be right back.”
Travis jerked his arm free the moment Craven was out the door. “Are all men at your beck and call?” he asked with disgust.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He did not answer directly, simply said stiffly, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your reunion with Mr. Sweetie Pie.”
“You didn’t.”
“He didn’t seem too pleased to see me.”
“Of course not. You burst in here, throwing daggers with your eyes!”
“I came in here to check on you, make sure you were safe.”
“Of course I was safe,” she sniffed. “Craven would never hurt me.”
“Well, then, since you already have your knight in shining armor, you certainly don’t need me.”
When he turned to go, Kenzie grabbed his arm. “What is that supposed to mean? Have you forgotten why you’re even here? You’re supposed to be protecting me, not acting like some jealous high school jock! For a minute there, I thought you two were going to throw down and wrestle.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Having two men fight over you?”
Kenzie had to admit, the thought of two handsome, virile men fighting over her had its appeal. Shaking the vision from her head, she tossed her curly hair. “Not particularly, no. Especially when my boss is here and we’re all guests in the home of a United States Senator. Please don’t embarrass me by doing something stupid.”
“I wouldn’t dream of embarrassing you, Miss Reese.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’m just here as a gawker, trying to get a glimpse of my favorite politician. Or, better yet, maybe I can get his autograph.”
“Okay, so it wasn’t a very good cover,” she admitted. “But just because I embarrassed you doesn’t mean you have to embarrass us both by making a scene with Craven.”
“I notice you used the same cover with him, too. You certainly didn’t tell Sweetie Pie what you told your editor,” he smirked.
“It was a little hard to work into the introduction, okay? But if you want me to clarify our r
elationship for him, I’ll be happy to.” Kenzie crossed her arms across her chest and huffed. Under her breath, she muttered, “Just as soon as you clarify it for me.”
Craven came back into the room, carrying only two tall glasses of lemonade. He sipped on one as he handed Kenzie the other. “Don’t spoil your appetite,” he warned with a charming smile. “You’ll want to save room for that stuffing I told you about. And if you’re lucky, she’ll serve her homemade cinnamon rolls for dessert. I told her how much you like them.” His teasing wink had an intimate quality to it, suggesting it was only one of many secrets they shared.
Before Kenzie could reply, the others came in from the deck. Announcing it was time for lunch, Harry Lawrence made his way to Kenzie, taking her arm and ushering her into the foyer. She glanced over her shoulder, murmuring something about Travis, but the Senator laughed and assured her that her guest was fine.
Lunch was a miserable affair for Kenzie. She was placed directly across the table from Craven, who kept his blue eyes trained on her throughout the entire meal. Travis was seated on the far end of the table, where Kathryn had him engaged in a steady conversation. The Senator was at the head of the table, directly to Kenzie’s left, and Franks was to her right. She tried not to feel claustrophobic, but the Senator and his staff were surrounding her, crowding into her space. A space she wanted for Travis. Kenzie tried to smile and engage in polite conversation, but her head was beginning to throb.
After lunch, the Senator gave them a tour of the house, pointing out the home’s energy efficiency. Duly impressed, Kenzie took more photos and Kathryn asked more questions. By the time she and Travis left, her head was pounding.
“What a day,” she sighed, leaning her head back against the seat. “My head is killing me.”
“Probably too much sweets,” Travis said dryly.
Kenzie refused to take the bait. She did not want to argue about Craven, aka Mr. Sweetie Pie, right now. She had other things on her mind. “I guess you caught all that about the Senator’s early affiliation with the DOE and the grant committees.”
“Yes, although it wasn’t anything we didn’t already know. However, I didn’t realize he was currently on the Appropriations Committee.”
“Handy little thing to have in his back pocket when funding his favorite projects,” Kenzie mused. “Like flood disaster relief for Colorado and pushing forward with the NorthWind project.”
“Hmm.” Travis considered the implications of her last statement without really commenting.
“I was hoping to do a little sightseeing on the way back, but to be honest, my head hurts too badly,” Kenzie groaned. “Can we come back tomorrow?”
Travis was slow in answering, his eyes alternating between the road in front of them and the car behind them. “We’re not exactly on vacation, Kenzie. Besides, I thought I heard you making plans with Sweetie Pie.”
“He offered to take us sight-seeing. I made it plain that there were four of us.”
“Plain?” he hooted. “The only thing that was plain was that you, Kenzie Reese, are a flirt!”
When she said nothing, he persisted. “What? No sassy comeback?”
“Talk about a dog with a bone,” she grumbled. The sigh she heaved was long and heavy, thrown into the tense space between them. “Yes, Travis, I am a flirt. I admit it. But it doesn’t mean anything.”
“You admit it?”
She gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “It would be a little hard to deny, so why bother? I enjoy flirting. I enjoy men. And get that look off your face and let up on the steering wheel, before you squeeze it in two.” She rolled her eyes. “Geez, I didn’t mean I enjoy men like that. I mean I enjoy their company. Contrary to what I may have led you to believe, I normally do not throw myself at men. I’m not quite that pathetic.” She stared out at the passing scenery, seeing only the tears that swam in her eyes.
“I never said you were pathetic. But over the course of the last few days, I have learned that you may have missed your calling.” His words were just raw enough to reveal his distrust. “You would make an excellent actress.”
“Is that a diplomatic way of saying I’m a smooth liar? You forget, my entire past was a lie.”
A full two seconds ticked off before he replied. “Kenzie, if I’m to help you, you know how important it is for you to tell me the absolute truth. Is there anything you haven’t told me about your father? Anything you’ve been keeping from me?”
“There’s plenty I haven’t told you about my father.” Raven curls tossed through the air as she twisted to face him. “Did I ever mention how he forgot Christmas one year? I had convinced my mother to put up a small tree on Christmas Eve. We didn’t have any ornaments, so I made popcorn and strung it with red thread. We made cookies to hang on the tree and my mother actually found some ribbon to tie into bows. She even brought out a present and put it under the tree. A big blue box, just for me. We made hot chocolate and sat around waiting for my father to come home from work so we could go out and look at the Christmas lights. I think I fell asleep a little after midnight. When my father finally came home the next day, the day after Christmas, my mother finally let me open my gift. A new coat.”
“How old were you?”
“Let’s see, I was Jessica that year, so I guess I was about eight.”
Travis’s jaw was set in a tight square as he clenched his teeth and listened. “How can you sound so matter-of-fact? Doesn’t it make you mad that your parents did that to you? They stole your childhood from you.”
“Of course I’m mad. But it doesn’t change anything. And it takes too much energy. I’ve learned not to waste energy, or emotion, where my parents are concerned.”
Travis’s entire body was stiff. They took a curve faster than was wise, his foot heavy on the gas pedal. Kenzie’s purse slid around on the seat and several items spilled out, including her cell phone.
It landed next to Travis’s thigh. The screen lit up, alerting her to an unanswered text from Craven. “I keep telling you to turn that thing off!” Travis barked. “What? Are you afraid Sweetie Pie might not be able to reach you?”
“Not Craven,” she whispered. Kenzie gazed out the window again, fighting back the sting of unshed tears. “Maybe I am a liar, after all,” she said quietly.
He thought she was talking about Craven, but when she could speak without crying, she admitted a raw, painful truth. “All these years, I’ve kept the same number. I have no idea how to reach my parents, but just in case they ever want to call me….”
His voice was gentler now. “How often do they call?”
“In the past eight years?” Her voice was small as she choked out the sad reality. “Four times.”
Travis put out his hand and she grabbed it, clinging to it like the lifeline that it was. “The first time was about a month after I left home. Oddly enough, my parents actually gave me a cell phone for graduation, the first phone I was ever allowed to have. The call went to voice mail, but it was my father, just checking to see if I still had the phone. That’s when I realized I would have to keep it, if I ever wanted to hear from them again.” She stared hard into the passing trees as she whispered, “I was tempted to change it. A dozen times, I made up my mind to throw the phone away and get a new number. I knew they would never go to the trouble of looking me up.” That was the hardest admission of all to make. “But for some reason, I could never quite make that final cut.”
There was a long silence before she continued. “On New Year’s Eve, 2008, my parents called to wish me a happy new year. To be honest, I think they were drinking. They were actually laughing, something they never did. I was at a party and was having trouble hearing them, but they hung up before I could go somewhere quiet enough to talk. Then three years ago, my mother called, all upset. She had seen a photo I took in Nashville and she wanted to know why I had gone there, how long I had stayed, whom I had talked to. When I assured her I hadn’t blown our old cover as the Adams family, she calmed down. She said �
��I take it you’re doing well’ in her stiff, cold voice,” Kenzie mimicked the sound, “and when I said I was fine, she hung up. It was only the second time she had spoken to me in six years, and that’s all she had to say.”
Travis squeezed the hand he held, while she used the other to brush away the tears that insisted on falling. “And then about six months ago, my father called. I told you about that. Honestly, I’m not sure why he called. It was the first real conversation we had had in eight years. I was shocked when I heard his voice.”
“Do you remember what he talked about?”
“He said he was in Dallas, checking out a job. I thought that was odd, because I don’t remember him ever going on interviews in the past.” A new thought occurred to her. “And since Dallas wasn’t on the list, I guess my idea about re-cycling identities doesn’t hold true.”
“He said he was there for an interview?”
Kenzie thought for a moment. “No. He said he was checking out a job. He said he was passing through Texas,” she recalled, “and he thought he’d give me a call. It sounded like he was in an airport.”
“So maybe it was a lay-over, on the way to one of the cities on the list. Did he say what kind of job?”
She shook her head. “My father never discussed his work with me. He asked me about my career, told me he often saw my work in the magazine and on the internet. He said I had a real eye for detail, which was the closest thing to a compliment I could ever hope to get from him. He said my mother was home with a cold and that she had broken her leg last year. He mentioned something about there being a lot of snow in Nashville, so I assumed he meant she had slipped on snow and broken her leg. He asked if I was married, or if he was a grandfather. For about half a minute, he actually sounded a little sentimental. Then he told me to take care of myself and he hung up. Eight years of catching up in a four minute conversation.”
“I’m sorry, Kenzie,” Travis said earnestly. “If I ever get my hands on the man, I swear I’ll beat every tear you’ve ever cried out of his sorry hide.”