Regan stared at him in stunned silence. If he’d had a million years to analyze the situation, he never would have come up with that.
“You want some coffee?”
“Yeah. Guess so.” He walked over to the couch and sat down. Moments later, Drake handed him a mug of hot coffee, and he took it with a nod of thanks.
He used the familiarity of sipping coffee to buy himself some time and gather his thoughts. At last he had something of a handle on what Drake had confessed, but he was confused. “What you’re saying makes no sense. You were the one with all the important connections. I was the poor kid on a scholarship. You belonged in that world. Your parents guaranteed our clinic would be a huge success. You had everything. I was riding on your coattails the whole time.”
“Nope. Not true. I had the connections, but you had the grades. I had the trust-fund money, but you had the difficult-to-define qualities of a great vet. I needed you. If I’d tried to go it alone, I would have failed. I don’t have the genius for the profession that you do. For your information, I got somebody else to fill your spot, but they don’t have your skill. The clinic’s about to go under.”
Regan frowned. “I’m sorry.” Surprisingly, he was. He’d put a lot of himself into building that practice, and he hated to think of it dying.
“It shouldn’t survive. I’m not cut out for the profession. I’m a huge disappointment to my parents, but they’ve always suspected you were propping me up. Two weeks ago I told them why you left. I’ll be surprised if they don’t disinherit me.” He shrugged. “And amazingly, I don’t give a shit.”
“What are you going to do?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out. Until now, other people have told me what I’m supposed to want. I need to figure out what I actually want.” He glanced at Regan. “But that’s not why I asked you to come and see me. I crapped all over your relationship with Jeannette. I know sorry doesn’t cut it, but short of giving you a kidney, I don’t know what else I can do but say that I’m deeply sorry. That’s not how you treat a friend.”
Regan grinned, which shocked the hell out of both of them, judging from Drake’s expression. “A kidney? You’d give me a kidney?”
And just like that, the tension eased. The old familiar spark was back in Drake’s eyes. “You might not want it, dude. I boozed it up pretty good in college. But if you need one, I’m there for you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. You never know.”
“So what about this new lady? What’s she like?”
“Terrific, but there are problems.” Regan thought one might be solved, but she might require evidence. Maybe if she was blown away by his renewed friendship with Drake, she’d listen to his ideas about learning to say no. “Would you like to meet her?”
Drake froze. “That would be okay with you?”
“Sure.” Regan gave him the evil eye. “But if I ever think, for one second, that you would—”
“God, no. I’ve worked too hard to fix this mess.” He rubbed his chin. “Guess I should shave first, huh?”
“I should probably present you like this, just to guarantee she won’t take a shine to you, but as a measure of my faith in your trustworthiness, yeah, why don’t you shave?”
* * *
BY LATE MORNING, Lily still hadn’t contacted Morgan about listing the property. She kept finding other things to do. She made a sign, which she’d have laminated before she left, but she hung it on the front gate for now because a sign was definitely called for. If it looked like rain, she’d bring it in. It read: “Sorry, but our barn is at capacity. Please take a flier for other options.”
To go along with the sign, she planned to install an information tube at the gate and keep it stocked with copies of the list she’d made up earlier this morning. She’d posted a prominent notice on the website requiring a phone call in advance of bringing a horse to Peaceful Kingdom. But because of her previous lax policy, people still might drive up to the gate unannounced and expect to drop off a horse. She didn’t want a future owner to have to deal with that.
On impulse, she spent some time out in the paddock, loving on the horses, and some more time with Wilbur and Harley, and even a few minutes talking to the chickens. She’d miss all those critters. And not just a little bit, either. She’d miss them as if she’d suddenly developed a hole in her heart. Somewhere during her tour of the place, she began to reconsider her decision to leave.
After all, she’d turned away a horse. She’d come up with a list of alternative rescue operations, she’d posted a notice on the website and she’d made a sign to hang on the gate. The fence company had set up physical boundaries that made her life easier. But she’d needed some mental boundaries, and now she had them.
At last she stood in front of her green-and-orange house and admired the flowers blooming their little hearts out. Someone new might repaint, and that didn’t sit well with her. They might forget to water the flowers. They might not love potbellied pigs.
Spreading her arms wide, she twirled around. “I’m staying!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “You hear me, horses, pigs and chickens? I’m staying!”
About that time Regan’s truck pulled up to the gate, and her bubble of happy optimism burst. She didn’t want to hear how he’d chewed out his best friend and ordered him to leave Jackson Hole. She loved Regan, but if he insisted on clutching that anger to his heart, then... Her breath caught. She loved him? Well, of course she did. That’s why she was so upset with him for the way he was handling his problem with Drake.
She waited as he unlocked the gate, got back in his truck and drove into the yard. Wait a minute. Someone was in the passenger seat. Her heart began pounding. If that man was who she thought he was, then maybe all was not lost.
The guy got out. His coffee-colored hair was on the longish side, but after years at Berkeley, she was used to that look. He was wearing a ratty old college sweatshirt and scruffy jeans with sneakers. That also reminded her of Berkeley. He had on shades that looked remarkably like the ones Regan used to wear. Maybe he needed protection, too.
Regan walked toward her, his smile hopeful. “Lily, I’d like you to meet Drake Brewster.”
Her chest tightened. Regan had done it. He’d accepted his best friend’s apology, and then he’d brought him home to her as a peace offering.
Turning to the man who had betrayed Regan, she wondered how much courage he’d required to come here and ask for forgiveness. Quite a bit, probably. She held out her hand. “I’m happy to meet you, Drake Brewster.”
“Same here, ma’am.” He took off his shades to reveal startling green eyes. “Regan’s told me a lot about you.” His accent made him sound like a plantation owner from Gone with the Wind.
“Oh? Like what?”
“That you’re brilliant, and generous, and beautiful. Just between you and me, I think the guy’s in love with you.”
“Hey!” Regan frowned at Drake, but his mouth twitched at the corners, as if he might be holding back laughter. “Don’t go poking your nose in my business.”
Drake shrugged. “Just makin’ an observation.”
“Well, go observe somewhere else, okay? Take a stroll around the property or something. I need to talk to Lily privately.”
Drake placed a hand on his chest in exaggerated shock. “Lord, boy! Are you telling me to get lost when I just got here? Where I come from, that’s not how we treat our guests. No, sir.”
“Okay, then go in the house and make yourself some coffee. Have a beer. Have a mint julep. Sheesh. I’d forgotten you were such a pain in the ass.”
“Okay. I’ll leave. But don’t louse this up. She’s obviously a find. Close the deal, boy, or mark my words, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
Lily watched them with wonder and a bubbling kind of joy. Men didn’t joke around li
ke that unless they were close. As for the topic of conversation, that sent excitement skittering through her.
“Advice appreciated. Now git.”
With a martyred sigh, Drake trudged off toward the house.
Regan turned back to Lily, his expression tender. Nudging back his hat, he closed the distance between them. “I saw the sign on the gate.”
“I put that up after I turned away a horse.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You did what?”
“I figured that whoever took over didn’t need yet another horse to deal with. Besides, the guy had some nerve, just driving up to my gate without calling ahead. But FYI, you can’t take over, because I’m staying.”
“Is that so?” His mouth twitched again, as if he was having trouble holding back a grin. “Does that mean you don’t need me anymore?”
“Oh, I need you.” That came across with a little more emotion than she’d intended, but her feelings were running high at the moment.
He drew her into his arms. “Good, because I need you. And an FYI for you, Brewster totally jumped the gun, but he was right. I’m madly in love with you.”
Joy thrummed through her as she looped her arms around his neck. “How convenient. I just discovered that I’m madly in love with you, too.”
He pulled her in tight. “So what are we going to do about that?”
“Nothing right now. We have a guest.”
“So we do. Damn. I brought him as Exhibit A, but I forgot about the fact that he’d stick around.”
The screen door opened. “Have you proposed yet, genius?”
“Go back in the house, Brewster!”
“Better get on with it.” The door banged shut.
Regan looked into her eyes. “He ruined the suspense.”
“I don’t care.” If he weren’t holding on to her, she might lift up into the sky like a helium balloon. She was just that happy.
“Will you marry me, Lily King?”
“Yes. Yes, I will.”
The screen door creaked open again. “How about now? Have you accomplished what you came to do?”
Regan sighed. “I have one more important thing to take care of. I’m going to kiss this woman until her eyes roll back in her head. You might want to give us some privacy for that.”
“Nothing doing. I’m going to watch.”
“Suit yourself.” Regan lowered his mouth to hers.
At first she felt a little embarrassed that Drake was standing on the porch taking it all in, but then she forgot about him. She forgot about everything but the explosive pleasure of kissing Regan O’Connelli. And if anyone were to ask, she’d happily confirm that her eyes really did roll back in her head.
* * * * *
Think Drake deserves another chance?
Read on for a sneak peek of
RIDING HARD,
the next SONS OF CHANCE
book by Vicki Lewis Thompson
coming July 2014
from Harlequin Blaze!
Keep reading for an excerpt from TESTING THE LIMITS by Kira Sinclair.
TRACY WONDERED IF the mare was still hungry. After all, she was eating for two. What Tracy knew about such things would fit inside a bottle cap. She really did need Drake’s advice.
As if her thoughts had conjured him up, she heard him enter the barn, his boot heels clicking on the wooden floor. She hurried over to the stall door and glanced quickly down the aisle. Sunlight streamed into the barn, outlining his manly physique in gold. He’d taken to wearing Western clothes recently, and they suited him. Boy, did they ever suit him.
She needed to gather her wits, so she didn’t call out to him. Hoping he hadn’t noticed her, she went back to brushing Dottie. For someone who had vowed to remain cool and distant, she sure had a lot of heat pouring through her veins. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Tracy? Are you in here?” His rich voice echoed in the rafters. “Down here, last stall on the left.” Damn, but her hands were shaking. This was not good.
“Thanks. I tried the house, but you didn’t answer the door.” His footsteps came closer. “My eyes aren’t quite adjusted to the light.”
She glanced up, and there he was, six-foot-something of testosterone-fueled male. His Western shirt emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. He wasn’t wearing a cowboy hat, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen him wearing one. She wondered about that. Most cowboy wannabes couldn’t wait to show up in a hat.
When he opened the stall door, she realized her mistake. Jumpiness aside, she should have walked out to meet him. Then she could have let him go in the stall alone. Instead he was about to come in with her.
Unless she engineered a little do-si-do with him and then made her escape looking like a frightened rabbit, she was stuck here. Her three-foot limit was about to be violated, and she didn’t know what to do about it.
Copyright © 2014 by Vicki Lewis Thompson
Saddle up for a wild ride!
Catch these three titles in Vicki Lewis Thompson’s New York Times bestselling Sons of Chance series—featuring Riding High (June 2014), Riding Hard (July 2014) and Riding Home (August 2014). Available now in ebook format.
Looking for more Vicki Lewis Thompson? Be sure to catch all the titles in the popular Sons of Chance series, including:
Riding Home
Riding Hard
Riding High
Cowboys & Angels
The Heart Won’t Lie
Wild at Heart
I Cross My Heart
Feels Like Home
Lead Me Home
Long Road Home
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
Ten years ago one devastating night changed everything for Austin, Hunter and Alex. Now they must each play their part in the revenge against the one man who ruined it all.
Austin Treffen has the plan… Hunter has the money… Alex has the power!
Read each of their stories in the captivating Fifth Avenue trilogy,
only from Harlequin Presents:
Avenge Me by Maisey Yates (June 2014)
Scandalize Me by Caitlin Crews (July 2014)
Expose Me by Kate Hewitt (August 2014)
And don’t miss the Fifth Avenue prequel that started it all, Take Me, by Maisey Yates!
Order your copies today in ebook format.
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
1
QUINN KELLER DIDN’T often lose it. She tried hard to keep a rein on her temper. It was something she’d been working on her entire life, not wanting to hurt others with harsh words. Most days she succeeded.
She gritted her teeth, her body quivering with barely suppressed fury. Today wasn’t one of those days.
Luckily, the object of her rage deserved every last speck of it, and she wouldn’t lose one wink of sleep over anything she said.
Slick and condescending, Everett Warren thought he was above the rules. It had taken everything she had not to slam her fist into his smug face. Fortunately, her brain was working faster than her instincts for once, because if she’d given in to the urge she probably would have lost her job.
And then how would she be able to help Caroline Warren, the asshole’s wife?
<
br /> “There’s been a grave misunderstanding, Ms. Keller,” Warren had said, in that deep, solemn voice that was probably supposed to indicate just how important and trustworthy a man he was.
Unfortunately for him, Quinn had seen the evidence of the opposite with her own eyes.
An image of Caroline’s body, marked and bruised, flashed across Quinn’s mind. Not twelve hours ago she’d held the woman’s hand while a doctor and nurse had taken care of her injuries. She’d been there as Caroline had stripped naked so they could take pictures of the damage for evidence. And the marks hadn’t all been from last night. Several of the bruises were days and weeks old. All purposely positioned so they could be well covered.
And then Quinn had hidden Caroline in a safe house on a small farm on the outskirts of town.
Somehow, despite Warren’s false concern, Quinn managed to bite her tongue, keeping the snide comments to herself. Misunderstanding, her ass. She hated men who felt putting a ring on a woman’s finger equaled the right to dictate, intimidate and hit.
What made Warren worse than most was the smooth exterior he presented to the world. Most of the abusers she’d met over the years didn’t bother pretending they were anything else. They didn’t care enough to hide the truth.
Warren did. In fact, he worked hard at the perfect facade. He was a major donor to several high-profile charities in town. He’d won service awards and been hailed as a town hero for years. Hell, even she’d been sucked in by the pretense. How could she not be? He’d funded several of the programs for the people she assisted on a daily basis.
Although, according to Caroline, the money he’d been liberally spreading around town for years wasn’t exactly clean. Certainly, he had legitimate business interests. But also ties with “families” that were well known for their ruthless behavior.
Riding High Page 18