Lake Magic

by Fisk, Kimberly

“Believe me, Anna has never taken a wrong step in her life, especially where Cody is concerned. I’m sure she’s doing the right thing. Besides, neither of us is a parent. What do we know?”

  Jared stabbed once more at the half-burned log. “You’re right.” She smelled like fresh powder and tropical flowers. He grew hard and felt his gut tightening. He wanted to lay her out on the couch and strip off that damn robe and lick her from the bottom of her feet all the way up to that soft spot on the side of her neck, making sure to pause in all the right places. She was driving him insane, and she didn’t even know it. It was supposed to be the other way around. He was supposed to be making her burn up and melt inside. “You’re right,” he said again. “I don’t know a damn thing about being a parent. But I know something about businesses. And all those calls you’re making are a waste of time. Tell me, have you ever got past a secretary?”

  The teakettle whistled, but she didn’t make a move to turn off the burner. Instead, she stared at him through baby blues, wide with confused anger. “Why are you turning mean?”

  She didn’t know what mean was. He’d been waiting around for what seemed like forever for her to cave and go running to Mom and Dad. But she hadn’t. She wasn’t. Instead, she was working her ass off to save this business. If he’d been anyone else, he’d be damned impressed. But the more time he was around her, the less he thought about Mexico.

  Anger at her—anger at himself—turned his tone icy cold. “Business is about the bottom line. Period. I’ve been through the office. I saw the files you worked up. If you’re the businesswoman you say you are, you’ll figure it out.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Two days before the charity event, Jared stood outside the house and looked around. Ever since Cody’s call, he’d done nothing but keep busy. He’d hung the new door at the side entrance of the hangar and trimmed it out; he’d power-washed the roof and cedar shake siding, repainted all the white trim, cleaned and restained the porch, fixed the leaky faucet in the kitchen, and about a dozen other projects. He’d organized and reorganized the inside of the hangar so many times it looked like a damn showroom. But no matter how many chores he gave himself, he couldn’t keep his mind occupied and off of the hurt he’d seen in Jenny’s eyes.

  If you’re the businesswoman you say you are, you’ll figure it out.

  After jerking on a pair of leather gloves, he hefted three brand-new two by six boards from the stack on the far side of the hangar, propped them on his shoulder, and made his way to the dock. The smell of freshly milled lumber filled the air as he balanced the boards with his right hand. Reaching the dock, he set the boards on the sandy ground. After power-washing the dock yesterday, he’d noticed a few boards that needed to be replaced. When he’d asked Zeke to borrow his truck for a run to the lumberyard, the old man had smiled and shook his head even as he’d handed over the keys.

  “Son, those boards are just fine.”

  Maybe they were. But Jared needed a project, and this was as good as any. He’d not only bought the wood and screws but two five-gallon drums of water-resistant, environmentally safe stain. Resealing would be his next project.

  The rain had finally stopped, and the sun was out. His T-shirt hung from his back pocket, and a tool belt rode low on his Levi’s. He grabbed a pry bar and got to work.

  Earlier, he’d dragged the radio out of the hangar, found a classic rock station, and cranked the volume as high as it would go. As AC/DC sang about the “Highway to Hell,” sun beat down on his back, and his biceps bulged as he worked the boards loose. With all the work he’d been doing outside, his tan had deepened to a rich golden brown.

  The first couple of boards popped off easily, but the others proved to be a bitch. Banging on the end of the pry bar with a hammer, he forced the bar under a board and strained until he heard it squeak free from the timber supports.

  “This is a step up. From top gun to no fun.”

  Jared paused, the pry bar in his hand. “You never could follow directions worth shit.”

  Kenny Hart stood at the end of the dock, looking like he’d just stepped off the beaches of Malibu. Not for the first time did Jared wonder what the hell women saw in him. He was a pain-in-the-ass pretty boy who’d been crowding Jared’s wings ever since he’d joined the squadron two years ago. Hart looked like he was modeling for a damn magazine in designer jeans, a foil-print T-shirt, and some high-tech shoes Jared would rather go barefoot than wear.

  Jared looked around Hart to the parking lot. A glossy black Porsche glistened under the sun. “Your girlfriend lend you her car?” It was a sissy-ass car, and they both knew it.

  “All the rental place had. Jealous?”

  “Yeah. That’s it.”

  Kenny turned the volume down on the radio. Jared considered it sacrilegious to mess with the Boss, especially when he was belting out “Born to Run,” but obviously Kenny had no such compunction.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Would you believe I grew up around here?”

  “No.”

  Kenny just shrugged, and Jared got the feeling Malibu Ken hadn’t been lying.

  “I came to offer my services.”

  Jared braced a foot against the dock and pulled back on the bar. “Services for what?” He grunted as the board began to work free.

  “Best man, of course. I figure there was only one reason you’d need a tux. And I am the better man.”

  The board came loose. Jared crouched back, setting the pry bar down. He reached for his T-shirt and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “The day you outfly me, Hart, will be the day I’m six feet under.”

  “I am outflying you. You bailed, remember?”

  “Shut the fuck up and hand me that board.”

  Kenny glanced at the stack of new wood. “Sorry. Might get a splinter, and then how would I stop the proud papa from holding a shotgun to your head during the ceremony?”

  Jared shoved the shirt back in his right rear pocket. “There’s no wedding.”

  Kenny took off his Oakley sunglasses. “Then why the need for a tux?”

  “Who are you? The goddamn National Enquirer?”

  “They’d probably pay me a pretty penny for the scoop on why the navy’s top gun walked away at the height of his career.”

  Jared walked down the dock and straight past Hart. He didn’t stop until he was in the hangar and in front of the fridge. He opened it and pulled out a cold one. He twisted off the cap, took a drink, and shut the door with his foot.

  Kenny didn’t wait for an offer. He opened the fridge and grabbed his own bottle. “So, what do you think? Do I have a story for them or what?”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Seems like you’re already there.” Hart twisted his own lid off and took a drink.

  “Thought sissies like you needed a glass.”

  “No. But I’ll take an answer.”

  Jared leaned his butt against the workbench. He was spoiling for a fight, and Hart wasn’t biting. Seeing Kenny standing in front of him was like seeing everything he’d lost paraded before him. “You know the answer.”

  “You were given a raw deal, I’ll give you that—”

  “Raw deal? It was political, and I was left out to dry.”

  Kenny shoved a hand in his back pocket. “The CO’s been busting balls to make this right. Talk to him.”

  “I said everything I needed to during the inquiry.”

  “Why didn’t you let the squadron argue on your behalf? Every one of us wanted to be there.”

  “I fight my own battles.”

  “Maybe it’s time you stopped being such a damn one-man show and remember that you’re part of a team.”

  Jared laughed. “I hear Dear Abby is looking for an assistant. You’d be perfect.”

  “Looks like you need the job more than me. I’m still flying.”

  Jared pushed away from the bench and stood tall. “Give me the damn tux, and get the hell out of here.”

  “On one condit
ion. You talk to the CO.”

  Jared didn’t bother answering. He walked to the Porsche and opened the door. He scanned the interior, and when he didn’t see what he was looking for, he popped the trunk. Ignoring the suitcase, he grabbed the garment bag and slammed the trunk shut. “Thanks. Now leave.”

  Kenny leaned against the side of the sports car. “Whose place is this, anyway?”

  “None of your damn business.”

  “Humor me.”

  Jared glared at him. “No one you know.” Steven had left the squadron before Hart had joined.

  A grin spread across Kenny’s face as he looked past Jared’s shoulder. “I think I’m about to find out.”

  Jared turned and saw Jenny coming down the porch steps. He let out a low curse. Dressed in a white skirt and a pink T-shirt, she walked toward them like a queen. Her head was high, her shoulders back, and her hot pink toenails flashed in the sun as her flip-flops made a smacking noise against the bottom of her feet. Jared had seen a lot of women wear a hell of a lot less, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to throw a blanket over Jenny and cover her from head to toe. Where was that damn robe of hers when he needed it?

  Then he looked to Kenny, and Jared saw exactly where his gaze had gone. Jared saw red, and instead of wanting to cover Jenny, he wanted to punch Kenny square in the face.

  Completely ignoring Jared, she smiled brightly at Kenny. “Hello.”

  “Hellooo, gorgeous.”

  She laughed, and the sound tore at Jared’s gut. Since the night of Cody’s call she hadn’t said one word to him. Not one. She’d even stopped yelling. It was better this way, he kept telling himself. Easier. When he left, she would feel only relief. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her to smile at him just one more time. Once more, so the image of her hurt-filled eyes would leave him.

  “I’m Jenny. Jenny Beckinsale.” She held out her hand, and Kenny took hold like it was a life ring and he was a sinking man.

  “Kenny Hart.”

  “Are you here for a charter? I don’t have you on the schedule.” Her smile lit up the day, and she used her free hand to tuck her unbound hair behind her ears.

  “A charter?”

  The bastard still hadn’t let go of her hand.

  Jared shot him a look that Hart ignored. Jared took a step forward, and Kenny finally got the message. He dropped her hand.

  She motioned to the plane at the end of the dock.

  Kenny shot his gaze to Jared. “You have freakin’ got to be kidding me.”

  “I take it that means no.” Jenny’s voice floated over to Jared like a soft breeze. He didn’t care that she was talking to pretty boy. Hearing her voice was enough.

  “Let’s not be too hasty.” Kenny put his arm around her shoulder. “Just exactly what are you chartering?”

  She laughed again.

  “Back off, Hart.” Jared’s voice was low and dead serious.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Back off or get it torn off.”

  Surprise flickered briefly through Kenny’s gaze before he dropped his arm from around Jenny. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Don’t believe what?” Jenny asked.

  Kenny stared at Jared for a long time, then a slow, knowing smile curved his mouth. “Nothing, honey. I’ll explain it another time.”

  Jared moved between them. “There won’t be a next time.”

  Kenny gave Jenny a conspiratorial wink. “He’s in a foul mood.”

  “Does he have any other?”

  Kenny tipped his head back and let out a loud laugh. “Honey, you and I are going to get along just fine.”

  Twice that bastard had called her honey. Jared waited for her to give Hart what for, for her to tell him to stop calling her that, but his Jenny just smiled up at pretty boy and flipped her hair. Flipped her hair.

  “I was just about to have some iced tea,” she said to Kenny in a voice so sweet Jared wondered where that had come from. She’d never spoken that way to him. “Would you care to join me?”

  Kenny shoved his half-empty beer at Jared. “I’d like nothing better.”

  For over two hours they sat on the front porch, drinking tea and talking and laughing like long-lost friends. Jared tried to concentrate on what he was doing. But the third time the pry bar slipped out of his grip and he smacked his fingers into the board below, he gave up.

  He glared at Kenny. What did that son of a bitch think he was up to? Iced tea, my ass. Hart was a hard-core party animal if there ever was one. And if he didn’t stop smiling at Jenny like he wanted to take her straight up to her room and do every dirty thing Jared had fantasized doing to her, he was going to make good on his silent threat and punch the bastard right between the eyes.

  Jared flexed his hand, warming to the thought.

  He moved closer to the porch on the pretext of staking up some of her flowers. He didn’t give a crap if the flowers fell over, but at least he was close enough to hear what they were saying. Or so he thought. While their laughter was loud, their voices were hushed. All he heard was bits and pieces of their conversation.

  “. . . tux . . .”

  “. . . Tomorrow night . . .”

  “. . . you don’t say . . .”

  You don’t say what?

  Jared was being driven insane. And each time he looked at them cozied up on the porch, seated in rockers, he couldn’t help but think how perfect they looked together. He clenched his teeth so hard, the back of his jaw felt like it was going to snap in two. And that was before Kenny shot him a big, Cheshire cat grin.

  He really was going to have to punch the bastard.

  Finally, Kenny rose and prepared to leave. But not before he engulfed Jenny in a hug that lasted way too long and had his hands riding on the top of her tight derrière.

  The stake in Jared’s hand snapped in two.

  Jenny told Kenny good-bye then headed back inside the house.

  Jared stopped Hart at his car. “Keep your hands off her.”

  “Possessive, aren’t we?”

  Yes. No. “She’s not one of your bimbos, Hart. I meant what I said. Come near her again, and I’ll lay you out flat.”

  “That’s going to be hard to do.”

  “All it will take is one punch.”

  Kenny laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “Try me.”

  “As much as I’d like to, I’d hate to mess up my hands before tomorrow night.”

  Jared felt his scalp tighten. “You’re not going.” He knew Hart was referring to the charity ball.

  “Sorry, Worth. Can’t disappoint the lady.”

  “Stay away from her.”

  “She’s already promised me a dance.”

  Jared’s hand clenched into a fist. He knew his reaction was unreasonable, but knowing it didn’t change how he felt.

  Kenny grinned as he opened the car door. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had turned into a one-woman guy.”

  NINETEEN

  Jenny spent all of the next afternoon preparing for the fund-raiser. She showered, washed her hair, shaved her legs, and spent an exorbitant amount of time on her makeup and even longer on her hair. She lost count of the number of hairstyles she tried. Finally, she settled on a simple upswept style even her mother would approve of. The one thing she didn’t have to worry about was her dress. As always, her mother had come through.

  White and strapless, the designer evening gown clung to her every curve. The sweetheart neckline enhanced her cleavage, so much so that as Jenny stared at herself in the full-length mirror, she had a moment of trepidation. And that was before she saw how much the long, single slit in the back revealed. The shoes her mother chose were also perfection: white, with a touch of sparkle.

  There was no denying the fact that she was nervous. Last year, she had attended the event on Steven’s arm. This year, she was alone. Or almost alone.

  She could hear Jared now, in the bathroom, getting ready. When her mother had told J
enny she’d invited him, Jenny had silently fumed. Of course her mother would invite him. Why not? She didn’t know the havoc he was wreaking on Jenny’s life, because Jenny had never told her. As far as her mother was concerned, Jared was a business partner, and that was it.

  Jenny only wished that were true. Even as angry as he made her, she still found herself drawn to him more than she cared to admit.

  Later, as she made her way down the stairs and with her mind still on Jared, she nearly missed the last two steps and would have fallen if Jared hadn’t reached out and grabbed her. His arms encircled her waist, and she felt the heat from his palms seep through her, warming her in places that had long grown cold.

  “Sorry.” It was the first word she’d spoken to him in over a week. “It’s just—” It’s just that the sight of him in a tuxedo sucked all the air from her lungs and made her forget about something as insignificant as walking down the stairs. Jared in Levi’s and a T-shirt was dangerous; Jared in a tux was deadly.

  “Just what?”

  She backed out of his arms, and he seemed reluctant to drop his hands from her waist. “I didn’t see you.”

  He smiled like he knew she was lying. Then he took a small step back and ran his gaze from her upswept hair down to her high-heeled shoes. Slowly. As if he had all the time in the world. His gaze paused on her cleavage, and desire flared in his dark blue eyes. “I see you,” he said simply.

  “My parents will be here soon to pick me up. I think I’ll wait out on the porch.” Anywhere but right next to him, where the air all but sizzled between them.

  “Your parents aren’t coming. I told them I’d drive you.” Panic hit her. Being in the same room with him was one thing. Being in the same car, another. She couldn’t stop herself from remembering their ride in Zeke’s pickup. “I think we should take separate vehicles.”

  “Not a chance.”

  She made a sweeping gesture down the length of her dress. “Forget it. I’m not riding on your bike.”

  “I’m not expecting you to.”

  “Then I don’t see—”

  “Truce.”