Her Unexpected Detour (Checkerberry Inn)

by Kyra Jacobs

  Darn it.

  “What?” she asked through clenched teeth. “What’s too bad?”

  “Oh, you know, that you’re stuck sleeping here when there’s a whole inn full of nice, comfy beds back at the Checkerberry.”

  “Yeah? Well last I heard, it wasn’t open for the season yet. And even if it was, I couldn’t afford to stay there all week. I have car repairs to pay for, remember?”

  “Ah, but that’s just it. You need a place to stay, and Ruby needs help getting the place ready to open.”

  “What are you talking about? She’s got two strapping grandsons, what else could she need?”

  “An extra set of hands,” he said. “Our landscaping hasn’t been touched yet this spring. Ruby’s just getting too old to be mending flower beds and hauling mulch. And Brent’s up to his eyeballs in renovations.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “What’s wrong with your hands?”

  “Nope, I’m swamped with my own work. Besides, I do numbers, not landscaping.”

  “So hire someone. A college kid or something.”

  Miles shook his head. “You’re not following me, Indiana. See, you need a place to stay—no, don’t argue, just listen—and I need some free manual labor. It’s a win-win for everyone involved.”

  “No.”

  “Come on. You know how to use a shovel, right?”

  “Of course I know how to use a shovel,” she snapped. “I just…haven’t for a few years.”

  Kayla looked away. Shovels made her think of flowers, and flowers made her think of her mother. That dull ache in her chest returned.

  “Well, here’s your chance to get back into practice.”

  She shook her head. “I…can’t, Miles. I just can’t.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Kayla pushed the door open and stepped out onto the curb. A moment ago, a quiet night to herself sounded heavenly. Now, as she looked out at the cold, silent shop, she dreaded it. The passenger window rolled down behind her.

  “Last chance. This place and a week of boredom, or the Checkerberry and your fill of fresh air, sunshine, and Ruby’s cooking.”

  She hesitated. Looked back and met Miles’s gaze.

  Lord, his offer was tempting. A comfortable room of her own. Warm showers. Hot breakfasts. Surely she could control her emotions while she worked on the landscaping. It wasn’t like she was back at her parents’ place, having to face the daffodils. Ah, but there was someone at the inn she’d have to face. Someone who’d made it clear tonight that he wanted nothing more to do with her.

  “What about Brent?”

  “You don’t have to say one word to Mr. Unsociable,” Miles said. “My guess is he’ll steer clear of you during your stay anyway.”

  Still… “But I brought work with me.”

  It wasn’t a complete lie, since she did plan on finding a way to smooth over all of this with her boss. Then again, how was she going to do all that without a decent internet connection? Did this town have a Starbucks with wifi? If so, she could always camp out there…

  “Aw, who wants to do work when you’re on vacation?”

  “Says the guy who’s asking me to come and work at his grandmother’s inn while I’m on this so-called vacation.”

  Miles’s lips drew into a pout. “Please don’t make me beg, Kayla. You need a place to stay, we need help getting the inn ready for opening. There’s no time clock, no set schedule. You do what you can to help, and we make sure you have a warm bed to fall into each night.”

  “God, I’m an idiot for doing this.” Kayla yanked the car door open and slid back inside. “Fine, I’ll do it. For Ruby.”

  “Atta girl.”

  “Just don’t go getting any crazy ideas about trying to set me up with your cousin.”

  Miles shot her an innocent look. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Good,” Kayla said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Because once my car’s done, I am outta here.”

  Miles shifted into drive, and the farther they drove from the shop, the more Kayla’s confidence in her decision dimmed. She’d done the right thing, hadn’t she? What could she possibly stand to lose in this unexpected arrangement? There was no money involved, no script to be followed. And yet, she couldn’t help but be wary. Because while her stay at the Checkerberry might seem to be free of charge, there was no guarantee it wouldn’t ultimately cost her something much more valuable.

  Her heart.

  Chapter Twelve

  Monday morning dawned bright and sunny, not a cloud in the sky. The weekend’s wintery mix had been replaced by an unusually warm and dry forecast. Gone was the musty, damp chill in the air, and yesterday’s sunshine seemed to have dried the Checkerberry’s grounds considerably.

  Too bad the weather was doing nothing to clear Kayla from his mind. Only a day of backbreaking labor might be able to do that. Even then, Brent’s chances were still slim to none.

  I never should have gone to that stupid bar last night, he thought for the hundredth time as he drove his truck to the far corner of Ruby’s property. Never should have played the Good Samaritan on Friday, either. Sure, he’d finally gotten laid, but was a night of passion really worth all this heartache?

  Miles would say hell yes. Though that was because the man seemed to have no conscience when it came to loving and leaving the beauties of Mount Pleasant. Brent, however, wasn’t wired like that. Sometimes, he wished he was.

  Like now.

  He parked the Silverado near a damaged section of fence that separated Ruby’s land from that of her neighbor, Hank Billings. It’d been Hank’s wife’s brilliant idea a few years back to start raising alpacas. They’re beautiful, she’d said. Their fleece will bring us money, he’d said.

  They’ve gone and broken my darned fence again, is what Ruby said. Again, and again, and again.

  “Mindless beasts,” Brent grumbled, surveying the most recent damage.

  Actually, it wasn’t so much that they were mindless as they seemed to be running around blind—with desire. Either the Billings were feeding them aphrodisiacs, or it was mating season. Brent shook his head, trying to free his mind from the scene he’d discovered behind the barn just this morning. All that braying and grunting. Christ, he’d about lost his breakfast.

  The worst part was, four-legged fence-wreckers or not, at least they had mates. All he had was his work and a hairy black beast named Bear. Which was all he really needed, he reminded himself as he dragged the broken railing aside. And the sooner he got that through his thick skull, the better.

  Brent pulled on a pair of work gloves and set about wrestling the fence post loose from its hole in the ground. The sun beat down on his back, and in no time he’d broken a sweat. Soon he stopped to strip out of his fleece outer layer. A blue jay cried in the distance, drawing Brent’s gaze out over the hilly green countryside. The sight was as familiar to him as breathing; he’d been over every inch of Ruby’s land more times than he could count. And yet, the joy that sight usually brought evaded him this morning.

  It was no great mystery why. And though he’d ordered himself to push her from his thoughts, the memory of Kayla continued to haunt him. Their time together last night had been like a shot of endorphins straight to his heart, jump-starting the organ from its long-dormant state. As much as he’d tried not to start falling for her, somehow he still had.

  Which was why sending her off before things went any further last night had been the right call to make. He knew the agony he felt after her departure would eventually subside. In the meantime, it served as the perfect reminder to his earlier conclusion: Kayla was dangerous. Her mere presence was a crowbar aimed at the lock around his heart.

  A lock he couldn’t afford to lose.

  Brent spent the rest of the morning mending damaged sections of Ruby’s fence. At one point she and Miles passed by in the distance during her weekly scan of the grounds. They neither drove the inn’s Gator yard cart his way to stop and visit nor bothered with a
wave, which was fine with Brent. He was too busy wrestling his own demons to want company. Though it did amuse him to see Miles dressed down for once, wearing some old CMU shirt and a Yankees cap. Whether from the lure of sunshine or Ruby’s taunting, his cousin had finally given in and agreed to help with the landscaping.

  About damned time, with their opening less than two weeks off.

  When Brent made it back up to the inn and headed around to the front porch for an afternoon of scraping and priming, he couldn’t help but give his cousin some grief when he spotted that navy cap hovering above Ruby’s nearby spring blooms.

  “Well, well, well,” he said, dropping his supplies near the front steps. “It seems you aren’t allergic to manual labor after all.”

  The Yankees cap dipped and shook. When its brim rose again, the last face he expected to see at the Checkerberry came into view. One that had haunted him all day, just as it’d haunted his dreams the past few nights.

  Kayla.

  Anger welled up inside of him. Anger toward his meddling cousin. Anger toward his meddling grandmother. And anger at himself, for the way his heart rate spiked at the sight of her.

  “What are you doing here?” Brent demanded, eyes dark as Friday’s storm.

  Kayla sat back on her heels and reminded herself that she was here for Ruby. Ruby needed help, and Kayla needed a place to lay her weary head. And, after the day she’d had, the Jacuzzi tub in her suite was sounding mighty good right about now. No way was she going to let Brent intimidate her into leaving. He didn’t own the place, Ruby did. And Ruby had been ecstatic when she learned Kayla was back.

  The two women had spent the entire morning together. Ruby took her on a grand tour of the property, showcasing the barn, the pond and its pier, and the trails through the woods. At one point they’d spotted Brent wrestling with a fence post well off the cleared trail. Relief had washed over her when Ruby had kept on driving—she’d been worried since agreeing to this arrangement how their next meeting would go. So far, it had gone as expected. Question was, could she keep her cool?

  “Well, hello, Brent. Nice to see you again, too.”

  He remained on the porch, fuming but silent.

  “Have any luck with that fence? Ruby told me about how those llama-things are always knocking them down.”

  “Alpacas,” he said, his voice low and deadly. “And yes, the fence is fixed. Now answer the question.”

  Kayla rose from the flower bed and put a hand to her back. Working Ruby’s landscaping was no different than what she did every year for her father’s yard. And yet, somehow she always forgot to stop and stretch often enough. Yep, the Jacuzzi tub was definitely in her future tonight.

  “What I’m doing here?” A small part of her rather enjoyed seeing him like this, all out of sorts. She tugged off the gloves Ruby had loaned her and motioned toward the nearest flower bed. “Well, isn’t it obvious?”

  Brent growled, turned, and dismounted the porch. In a flash he was toe-to-toe with her, his hands like vise grips on her upper arms. “Why? Why did you come back?”

  “Hey! Let me go!”

  His gaze fixed on hers, unmoved. “No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

  “Miles said—”

  “I knew it.”

  His hands released her then, and Kayla stumbled to regain her balance. She watched as he turned back toward the front door.

  “Oh no you don’t.” She tossed her gloves down and ran ahead of him, blocking his path. “You leave Miles alone.”

  Brent’s brows rose in unison on his smooth forehead. “Oh, Miles has a new member of his fan club, does he? Tell me, did you take him back to your room, too?”

  Kayla’s hand moved of its own accord, and pain flared across her palm as it connected with his cheek. Brent flinched but otherwise remained motionless. Almost instantly, a red handprint appeared upon the point of impact.

  “I suppose I deserved that,” he said after a moment, his voice low, strained.

  “What I do and who I do it with is none of your business. And for the record? Miles offered me a place to stay in exchange for helping Ruby get ready for the season opening. Because everyone here is already swamped.

  “Besides, I already learned my lesson about allowing Masterson boys into my room.” She stormed back across the yard to retrieve her gloves, hand trowel, and shovel. “And it won’t happen again.”

  He said nothing as she rounded the far corner of the building, nor did he make any move to stop her. The farther she got from the man, the angrier she became. How dare he insinuate she’d slept with Miles. Or demand to know why she was here. Who the hell did he think he was?

  Kayla discarded her tools in the small shed that doubled as the Checkerberry’s pool house with a scowl, then headed inside. No way was she going to work out there while Brent was around. She stopped at the inn’s back door and kicked off her shoes. It was then that she caught sight of her reflection. Kayla had forgotten all about the CMU shirt Miles had loaned her. And the borrowed Yankees cap. Is that where he’d gotten that asinine idea that she’d slept with his cousin? Just because she was wearing a few articles of his clothing?

  What difference did it make to him, anyway? He’d sent her off the night before, probably couldn’t get rid of her fast enough, and now he was acting like he owned her?

  “Is that you, Kayla?”

  So much for heading upstairs to punch a few pillows. “Yeah, be right there.”

  She headed in the direction of Miles’s voice and found him in an office toward the end of the next hallway. The room was small and cozy but cramped with a large, L-shaped desk eating up a good half of the space. On the far wall stood a matching bookshelf, filled to the brim with thick textbooks on a topic that would put her right to sleep: accounting. Her gaze shifted to the man behind the desk.

  “What’s up?”

  Miles pushed back from his computer and smiled. “So? How’d it go?”

  “Really well, until your cousin showed up. So much for me not having to talk to him.” Kayla tugged the ball cap off with a frown and tossed it to him.

  Miles grimaced and set the cap aside. “Shit, I’m sorry. He’s just—”

  “Been through a lot. I get it. But still.” She blew out a frustrated sigh. “Anyway, I got further than I thought I would today. You can go ahead and order that mulch for tomorrow. I should be ready for it by midday. I’m guessing there’s a wheelbarrow around here somewhere I can borrow?”

  “Oh, I can do better than that. We’ve got a Gator.”

  “A what?”

  “A Gator. You know, like a golf cart on steroids. Has a dump bed and everything.”

  “Sweet.”

  She looked out the window and couldn’t help but wonder what kind of damage this Gator might do to a grumpy groundskeeper? The good girl in her tsk-tsked the idea. The bad girl side? She cheered. Too bad she’d never actually do it. Besides, the big lug would probably put one heck of a dent in Ruby’s cart. With a sigh, Kayla shifted her gaze back inside.

  “So, this is your office, huh? Nice.”

  “Thanks. My grandfather made all the furniture by hand. Most of it from wood right here on the property.” He gave the desk a loving pat; the motion drew Kayla’s eye to a sketch near his hand.

  “Whatcha working on?”

  “Oh this? Just some doodles of an ad idea I’ve been chewing on.”

  She pulled the paper closer and slipped without thought into work mode. An ad like this would never fly at Wayne. Not because his artwork was awful—and it was, she’d seen third graders do better—but because the design was all wrong. Years of practice, though, kept her from saying as much. Instead, she did what she loved to do: offered feedback and steered him in a new and improved direction.

  “Not bad. Though it might grab your audience’s attention faster if you made the tag line smaller and moved it there, shortened this sentence here, and then maybe added a picture of the front of the inn behind it all.” She looked up to
find him staring at her with mouth ajar and shrugged. “Just a thought.”

  He blinked a few times and pulled the sketch back to his side of the desk. “Well, great. I’ll, uh, take that under consideration.”

  She rose to her feet and put a hand to the aching spot in her lower back. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, the Jacuzzi tub’s calling my name.”

  “Enjoy,” Miles mumbled, still staring at the sketch she’d just critiqued.

  Kayla left his office and headed upstairs to her suite. Once there, she locked the door behind her and went straight for the Jacuzzi tub. It was either that or go back downstairs to strangle Brent Masterson, and she simply didn’t have the energy to do that. As it was, she barely had enough energy to strip out of her filthy clothes.

  Soon she slipped gingerly into a tub full of steaming water and rested her head on its back ledge. As the jets worked their magic on her aching body, Kayla began to wonder how she’d ever be able to keep her end of the bargain with Miles if Brent was going to accost her every day. Soft bed or not, she wasn’t going to hang around and be bullied—she already suffered through enough of that at work. Too bad she couldn’t stay inside the rest of the week and develop bold new ads for the inn instead.

  Develop bold new ads.

  A grin tugged at Kayla’s lips. The upcoming Follinger bid. If she could coach her team offsite to win that major project, Jacober would have no choice but to bring her back. And if she built the profit margin just right, maybe he’d even pay her for the week. But to do all that, she’d need the inn’s internet connection, at least until her car was fixed and ready to go.

  Now that would make enduring the grouch a bit more bearable.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brent remained on the porch long after his altercation with Kayla, scraping and sanding away his frustrations. His cheek still stung from Kayla’s slap, but not as much as his ego. He’d been completely out of line with that comment about her sleeping with Miles, he knew that. She’d said she wasn’t usually a one-night stand kind of girl, and he believed her. Didn’t make having to endure the sight of her for the duration of her stay any easier. Then again, he wouldn’t have seen her or acted like a total jerk if Miles hadn’t brought her back to the inn.