“Disappointed?”
Disappointed? Hadn’t he noticed her ogling him? Oh, lordy, hopefully not. “Of course I’m not disappointed.” No woman with any sense of desire could be disappointed in a specimen like him. “You’re just…not what I expected.” The lodge had been built in the fifties, so she’d pictured someone with gray hair and a limp. She’d pictured the mountain man aged like good cognac. Not a mountain cowboy fantasy, all dark and brooding and completely irresistible. He’d totally caught her off guard.
“Anyway, Miss King. Like I said, I’m not interested.” He stepped closer. “So you might as well go back home.”
He stood so close she could smell cedar and sweat, so close she could see the ridges and lines in his lips. Wow. He had nice lips. Smooth and pliable…
Her throat knotted. She had to stop thinking about his lips. His lips were not helping her with this negotiation…
“Tell your daddy to find another place to build his swanky resort. Try Telluride.” Bryce dodged past her and headed for an open door behind the counter.
“Hold on.” She shook herself out of a swooning shiver and chased him. “I’m not leaving until you hear me out. It’s a generous offer.”
“Won’t be generous enough.”
“You haven’t even seen it.” She snatched her backpack off the floor and rifled through until she found the printout. “If you’ll—”
“You’re wasting your time.” Bryce peered over his shoulder as he walked away.
“I have nothing but time.” She tossed the backpack on the ground, assuming the stance she’d perfected in all of her business negotiations; feet rooted into the floor, hip jutted. Bryce Walker would sell his land. Give her two days with the man. “I’m not going anywhere. I think I’ll hang out and see the sights.” She shuffle-kicked her backpack to the counter. “My flight doesn’t leave until Friday. I’d like to stay here.”
He laughed, but it was breathless and garbled. “Bad idea. You might ruin your perfect hair.”
Her hand reached up to pat the curls that kept dipping over her eyes. “No one’s ever accused me of having perfect hair.” Especially when she didn’t bother to straighten it. “But I’ll take that as the highest compliment, coming from you,” she sassed, just in case he could tell he was getting to her. Because he was.
She’d stood in front of two hundred board members and investors on numerous occasions to articulate good news, bad news, boring news, and never once had her heart drummed like it did when Bryce Walker looked at her. She’d done press conferences for King Enterprises for years, with the media rapid-firing question after question, and not once had she fumbled her words or resorted to the drunk cheerleader laugh. Yet somehow this man managed to make her feel like a silly, socially awkward girl who got all warm and flushed when a member of the opposite sex noticed her. It brought her right back to those memorable junior high days.
And he was doing it again, the jerk! Staring at her long and hard, as though cataloging a list of her physical features.
Avery fought a desperate urge to adjust her posture and make her B cups more impressive. She had to get out of there and regroup.
“So what’s your nightly rate?” She dug through the backpack pockets until she located her wallet.
“You’re not staying here,” he said in that same voice he’d used to command Moose, low and resolute.
Except she wasn’t a dog. She didn’t have to obey his commands. “This is a guest ranch, isn’t it?”
“Was.” Bryce’s jaw set into a hard line and erased the smirk. “It was a guest ranch. No one’s stayed here for two years.” His gaze roamed over her body again.
Wait a minute. Was he ogling her, too?
Finally, his gaze made its way back to her eyes, his stare so intense it left her breathless.
“It won’t be up to your standards,” he muttered.
She fought for a full, deep breath of air and raised her brows in a challenge. “You’d be surprised.”
“There’re plenty of five-star resorts in town. Perfect for people like you.”
People like her. Why did everyone always do that? Assume that she was one of those entitled heiresses who spent her days partying and shopping with her father’s credit card instead of working her ass off? She glared at him. “You don’t know me.” Her father had made sure she knew how to work hard to get what she wanted. Even after all his success, he’d made her work and save every penny until she could buy her first car herself, a 1989 Toyota Corolla with rust creeping up the fenders.
Unfortunately for Bryce Walker, she’d learned how to scrap and fight to get what she wanted. He hadn’t seen perseverance, didn’t know the true face of stubbornness. She twirled to face him. “A thousand dollars. Will that cover four nights?” She lifted each c-note from her wallet and held them out.
His eyes focused on the money. “I’m…I haven’t set prices yet.”
“Good. I’ll help you. Two hundred and fifty a night would be competitive in this area.” Maybe not in its current condition, but something told her he already knew that. She shoved the money into his hand and tried to ignore the glorious pull of her insides when his skin grazed hers. Then she traipsed to the rack of keys dangling on the wall behind the counter and selected one. “I’ll stay in Room 5. Will that work?”
Bryce’s arms dropped to his sides. “I think it’s clean.”
How encouraging. “Where is it?”
His forehead wrinkled like he wondered how they’d gotten to this point. “Out the door, down the steps, take a left,” he said slowly, like he had to think about it. “But—”
“Got it.” She gathered her bag and bolted for the door before he could get to the “but.”
“I’ll come and find you after I freshen up. We can continue our discussion then.”
“I already told you. I’m not—”
“See you soon.” Without looking back, she jogged down the steps and made her exit, the suitcase bumping an encore behind her.
Chapter Four
Bryce jabbed the hammer into the crack and ripped out another floorboard. Jab. Rip. Screech. The work was loud, messy, painstaking, but nothing compared to listening to Avery King talk. The sight of her kneeling next to Moose had given him a good jolt, and it wasn’t because he’d been surprised to see someone. No, it was something about the way her curly blond hair fell down around her shoulders, something about her silky, flushed skin. Then there was her body, slender but athletic. When she’d looked at him, her topaz eyes glimmered with humor and life.
She had some spark that’d lit his fuse…
Then she’d opened her mouth. Avery King. Just his luck. He finally sees a woman who intrigues him and she happens to be the ranch’s biggest threat.
He tossed down the hammer and shoved the old rotted floorboards into a pile. Couldn’t tell if the heat crawled off his skin because of the manual labor or the fact that, right now, that woman was unpacking her things in Room 5. Staying there for four nights. If he didn’t need the money so bad…
A car engine hummed outside. Monster wheels grinded gravel and skidded to a stop.
Bryce pushed off his knees and wiped sweat from his eyes. Had to be Mom. Hopefully she’d gotten his message. Without her help the next few days, he’d be in big trouble.
Sure enough, petite footsteps scurried across the porch, barely louder than a squirrel’s.
The door swung open.
“Bryce! I came as soon as I heard.” Mom rushed in, her Birkenstocks clacking the barren floor. “Is it true? We have a guest? How wonderful!”
Wonderful? “Not really.” What could possibly be wonderful about the King family eyeing his land? The land his grandparents had invested their entire lives in? The land he’d grown up on?
“Well…” Her outstretched hands demanded an answer. “Don’t keep me in suspense! Who is it?”
“Avery King.” The name tasted bad in his mouth. “That guy’s daughter. The one who owns half of Chicago.” A
nd New York. And L.A., according to Google.
“Avery…gracious!” She gasped. “You mean the Avery King? The heiress?”
“That’d be her.” Unfortunately for him.
“How exciting! Well?” Mom shook his shoulder like a five-year-old begging for a thick slice of chocolate cake. “What’s she like?”
Where to start? “She’s…annoying, relentless, irrational, stuck up.” At least that’s what he’d keep telling himself. Because the thought of her spending every night in the lodge had his imagination wandering places it hadn’t for a long time.
He kneeled back to the floor and swiped the hammer off a chair, pried out another floorboard.
A wave of Mom’s hand dismissed him. “Oh really, Bryce. She can’t be that bad.” She knelt to his eye level. “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”
Warmth swelled through him. No. She wasn’t pretty. She was perplexing. Stunning and strong and obviously determined to get what she wanted. He’d never met any woman quite like Avery King.
Mom stared at him, waiting.
He shrugged. Hopefully she couldn’t see him sweat. “She’s average.” After what she’d pulled earlier, he wasn’t about to pay her a compliment.
Studying him carefully, his mother stood and clasped her hands. “We should invite her to dinner. Don’t you think?”
He pried up another floorboard and tossed it on the pile. “Nope. No way.” That would be a bad idea, and not only because it would make her think he actually wanted to hear her offer. Staring at Avery King across the table for an hour wouldn’t help his imagination. “We have a baseball game at seven. She can grab dinner in town.”
“Now, Bryce. That won’t do. That won’t do at all.” Her bracelets clanged around her wrist. She always talked with her hands when she felt passionate about something.
Here we go. He tried not to shake his head.
“We have to impress her. Show her why you don’t want to sell this place. I mean, once she realizes what happened to Yvonne—”
Yvonne. Every time he heard her name, he still saw her, that silky dark hair falling over her shoulders, those maple-colored eyes that never failed to pry him open, the lift of her lips when she smiled. Even after three years, he still saw her, still heard her voice. He still felt her presence with him, like she was simply upstairs in the apartment they’d shared instead of in a grave.
Then Avery King had walked in and for those five minutes, he’d forgotten. She’d made him forget. A surge of anger fisted his hands. “My past is none of her damn business.” The hammer stilled, but his pulse kicked up. He did a silent count to ten before he looked at Mom. “I’ll only do the dinner if you promise not to say a word about the accident.” Avery King had no right to his memories. She didn’t deserve to know.
“Fine, fine. Of course that’s your decision.” Pity glossed her eyes.
He’d seen that look too many times. Didn’t need to see it in Avery King’s eyes, too.
“But we can still tell her all the wonderful things this ranch has done over the years, can’t we? We need to show her why you’ll never sell. So she understands.”
“She won’t understand.” He’d only spent a total of ten minutes with her and he already knew that.
“You’re impossible. So quick to judge.” She waggled her head as if wondering where she’d gone wrong with him and teetered over the missing floorboards to make her way to the counter. With a mischievous look directed at him, she picked up the phone and dialed.
“Yes, hello, Miss King. This is Elsie Walker, Bryce’s mother.”
A pause, then she smiled. “Why, it’s lovely talking to you, too dear. I was hoping you could join Bryce and me for dinner tonight.”
Bryce closed his eyes and shook his head. Perfect. Just what he needed.
She switched the phone to her other ear and gave him a double thumbs-up. “Wonderful. We’ll see you in the dining room at five o’clock.”
Another pause, then Mom waved a hand through the air like Avery was standing right in front of her. “Oh, no, no. Don’t you worry about bringing anything. We’ll take care of it.”
God help him. Mom was giggling. She was actually giggling like her best friend was on the phone. He swiped a hand down his face. This would not end well.
“Okay, dear. We’ll see you then. Looking forward to it! Bye, now.” Mom cradled the phone. “Well, isn’t she just the sweetest thing?”
Bryce stood and posted his hands on his hips. “You do realize she wants our land, right? That’s why she’s being sweet.” That’s why he couldn’t let himself look at her—really look at her—or think about her, or let her inspire his imagination more than she already had. Someone had to be sensible.
“She seems very genuine,” Mom insisted, patting his hand. “Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt, shall we?”
Much as he’d like to, he couldn’t afford to. She’d unlocked something in him when he’d seen her, and it wasn’t just a fleeting rush of admiration. It went deeper. It made him want her. And he hadn’t wanted anyone. Not since Yvonne.
Damming back that flood of desire, he picked up his hammer and ripped out another floorboard. It would be a long four days.
Mom peered down at him. “Look at you, doing all this work. Your grandpa would be proud, you know.”
No. He didn’t know.
“We’ll bring this place back from the dead, you and me.” Her eyes misted. “You wait and see. It’ll all work out, won’t it?”
“Sure it will.” He hoped his lost faith didn’t haunt his features. He’d neglected to mention his visit to the bank. She knew they were behind, but she didn’t know how bad it had gotten. He couldn’t break her heart that way. Couldn’t tell her until he had a way out of it…
“I’d best get on to the market, then. I’ll make a delicious dinner for the three of us. My Sunday best,” she declared with a confident nod.
He smiled down at the floor. Good old Mom. Always believed home cooking could solve all the world’s problems.
“Oh, it’s been so long since we’ve had a guest. We’ll make it pleasant, won’t we? Please, Bryce?”
“Pleasant? Hmmm.” He wasn’t about to give in to Avery King again, like he had when she’d asked to stay, but he could be polite. He’d have to be smart about it, keep his distance so he didn’t get sucker-punched by her spark again. But it could be done. As long as she didn’t push him. “I’ll try.”
“Now, now,” Mom wagged her finger. “We can find the good in anyone, can’t we?”
“I don’t know about ‘we,’ but you definitely can.” She’d sure waited patiently to find it in him.
“I will. You can count on that.” She tiptoed to the door, carefully stepping over loose nails and scraps of wood. “Oh, and Bryce?”
He looked up.
“You will shower, won’t you?” Her nose wrinkled and softened the blow. “In the interest of making a good impression and all? It wouldn’t hurt to shave, either.”
He gave her a disgruntled look, but didn’t argue. “Good thing I’ve got you around. Who else would tell me when I stink?”
She waved cheerily and scooted out the door. “See you at five, dear. Don’t be late.”
*
The coast was clear.
Keeping an eye out for Bryce, Avery darted up the lodge’s grand staircase, which was flanked on either side by the loveliest hand-carved banisters. Shadows flickered on the log walls in a rhythm of swaying evergreen trees, and within the window’s light, dust particles glittered in the glow of a setting sun. She ran her hand along the hewn log wall, feeling the knots and imperfections. She could almost hear the laughter that had once echoed in the halls. She could almost see the people from those few pictures on the walls gathered around the fireplace downstairs drinking hot cocoa.
But something had gone wrong.
She hadn’t meant to start snooping. Not really. Dad had asked her to check the place out, to see if anything would be salvageable “
when” they built the resort. The more she’d seen, the more she wondered about Bryce, about his family. Cobwebs laced the corners of doorframes. Faded curtains hung limply together. Closed doors hinted at memories carefully tucked away to be forgotten. For all of its antique charm, the lodge shuddered with an echoing hollowness, eerie and contemplative, like a dwelling where ghosts existed. A few framed pictures on the walls depicted a vivid family life: Bryce and his mom and grandparents skiing and hiking and driving their Jeep all over those mountains outside, but inside, the lodge had died. She just couldn’t figure out how.
At the top of the staircase, she detoured down yet another dim corridor. More framed pictures decorated the walls. She paused to study one. Bryce as a small child. The mischievous smile gave him away. He stood between his grandparents, hearty-looking people with gray hair and tanned faces. A younger Elsie stood on the other side, arm draped his shoulder, proud smile beaming. Even back then it was obvious Bryce had been destined to be a lady-killer. Throughout the years, he must’ve left quite the string of broken hearts in his macho wake, though she hadn’t seen any photographic evidence of him and a girlfriend. Or a wife…
Did he have someone? She really shouldn’t wonder because it was completely irrelevant to her mission there, but her traitorous mind kept circling back to that particular mystery. What was wrong with her? She’d never been so stunned by a man. The first time she’d met Logan at a charity event, they’d flirted and danced and by the end of the night, they’d been good friends. She’d been so comfortable with him, easygoing and sure of herself. But the force of Bryce’s presence, the way he’d shaken her, made her unsure of anything.
Moving on…
She ambled deeper into the hallway. The air sat heavier and stale upstairs, as if no one had been up here for years. Her body tensed. She shouldn’t be up here either. The last thing she needed was for Bryce to catch her snooping around.
The thought of seeing him again stoked the embers that glowed in the hollow of her stomach. She’d have to face him again, eventually, but first it might help if she knew more about him, if she could unlock some of his secrets so she could gain the advantage and figure out how she’d convince him to give this place up.
No Better Man Page 4