Only His

Home > Romance > Only His > Page 3
Only His Page 3

by Susan Mallery


  “Okay. But don’t think this means you’re going to be in town and avoiding me. I want to have you over for dinner. You can meet Liz and the kids. See all you’ve been missing with your nomadic lifestyle.”

  “I like my nomadic lifestyle.”

  “That’s because you never were as bright as the rest of us.”

  NEVADA DID HER BEST to ignore the pounding in her head. She’d taken as much aspirin as she thought was safe and had hydrated enough to water fifteen acres of corn, but she still felt as if she would have been smarter to shoot herself that morning.

  Jo had tried to warn her, she reminded herself. She’d been very specific on the consequences of drinking that much—especially for someone who generally limited herself to a single drink. But had she listened? Of course not. Now she was paying the price with a pounding headache and a body that hurt everywhere but her eyelashes.

  “I can’t believe you turned down the job.”

  The loud words came unexpectedly, causing her to jump. She glanced up and saw her brother standing in the doorway to her office. Tucker had filled up the space nicely, she thought, remembering how good he’d looked and how that had pissed her off.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled, wondering when the last of the alcohol would finally get out of her system.

  “You’re going to talk about it. This is what you wanted. You said you were interested in a challenge. Tucker’s offering all that. He thinks you’d be good for his team.”

  Telling her sisters what had happened was one thing, but explaining the details to her brother wasn’t a place she was willing to go.

  “I’m not interested anymore.”

  “Why? I don’t get this. Are you scared?”

  “No.”

  “Then, what?”

  Ethan was a great big brother. In school, he’d looked out for his baby sisters, and as an adult, he’d put his own dreams on hold so he could run the family business and put his younger siblings through college. He’d grown Hendrix Construction into a much larger company and had started a successful turbine business as well. He was a good guy.

  That was why she couldn’t tell him about her sordid past with Tucker. Ethan would feel the need to do something, which would only complicate the situation.

  “Ethan, I love you. Let it go.”

  He stared at her for a long time, then shrugged. “Tucker’s a great guy. Why wouldn’t you want to work for him?”

  “I just wouldn’t.”

  “You’re being an idiot. You know that, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. It’s your decision.”

  He walked away.

  Nevada was left alone in her office, her head pounding, the past threatening to bubble over into the present. She tried to busy herself with work, but could not stare at her computer screen. Not with her headache. Giving in to the inevitable, she left for the day and walked home.

  Late summer was a beautiful time in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. Fool’s Gold sat nestled at about twenty-five hundred feet. Just high enough for them to have all four seasons, but not so high that they still had snow until June. To the east were the jagged peaks, to the west were the vineyards and the highway that led to Sacramento.

  Nevada took a slightly longer route home, mostly because she wanted to be on quieter streets where she was less likely to run into anyone and have to make conversation. Between feeling like roadkill and having a very unusual urge to cry, she wanted to simply be, without any expectations.

  As always, catching sight of her house made her feel better. It had been built in the 1920s by a man who loved all things Victorian. The three-story house rose well above all the neighboring homes, a fussy dowager out of place among more modern offerings. She’d bought the place three years ago and had done all the remodeling herself.

  The new exterior paint had toned down the pink-and-yellow trim to a soft white. The house itself was a pale gray. Turrets stood on either side. One was her master bath, the other was part of the guest room.

  She’d turned the main floor into two small apartments she rented out to college kids. This year her tenants were grad students who did something with computers. She wasn’t sure what, but they were quiet and paid their rent on time, which worked for her.

  She climbed up the main staircase to her place—a spacious two-floor unit. After passing through her living room, she took a second set of stairs up to the third floor and walked into her bathroom.

  She’d spent most of her time and budget on this bathroom and the kitchen and loved how both had turned out. The bathroom was huge, with a separate shower and a reproduction claw-foot tub. Big stained-glass windows let in plenty of light while giving her privacy and, when she stretched out in the tub, she could see the fireplace in the master bedroom.

  Now, her head still pounding, she turned on the water and threw in a handful of jasmine-scented bath beads. In a matter of seconds, the soothing smell had combined with the steam, already relaxing her.

  She walked into the bedroom and took off her boots, then stripped off her clothes. She shrugged into a robe and returned to the bathroom to wait for the tub to fill.

  Without wanting to, she remembered the first time she’d met Tucker. She’d been maybe ten and Ethan and Josh had brought him home with them from cycling camp. The most exciting thing about his visit was his father’s flying to pick him up in a private jet. She’d found that far more intriguing than Tucker himself.

  Eight or so years later, when she’d gone off to college, Ethan had told her to look up his old buddy. She’d made the duty call and was surprised when Tucker was enthused about seeing her again.

  He’d given her directions to an industrial complex by the Los Angeles airport. She remembered being surprised by the location. The address was for a building nearly as big as an airplane hangar. The first thing she noticed when she stepped out of her small truck was the sound of music. The pounding rock beat had made the windows rattle.

  She’d knocked on the half-open door, but no one had answered. Probably because no one could hear her. She pushed opened the door and stepped inside.

  The open area was huge, maybe ten thousand square feet, with soaring ceilings. Big windows allowed the L.A. sunshine to illuminate everything. The floor was concrete, and the music was even louder here. The bass caused her chest to vibrate.

  But what caught her attention was the scaffolding in the center of the massive room. Reaching nearly as high as the ceiling, it was a complex framework with platforms and railings. It surrounded a gigantic, twisted piece of metal.

  The piece seemed to curl in on itself, yet reached up at the same time. As Nevada studied it, she felt as if the shards had been ripped open by a blast, then hastily put back together, but not in the right order. There was tragedy in the work. A sense of loss.

  After a few seconds, she noticed a woman stood near the top of the scaffolding, welding sparks showering her. From this distance, Nevada couldn’t tell much about her, except that she was tall and thin.

  “You made it.”

  The voice came from her left, a shout to be heard over the music. She turned and saw Tucker. Only this guy wasn’t the tall, skinny teenage boy she remembered. This guy was broad and handsome, with an easy smile and eyes that beamed with pleasure at seeing her. Despite the loud music, the strange building and the unusual artwork, everything disappeared. The world became a pinprick of light, expanding again until there was only Tucker.

  Nevada had never believed in love at first sight. Never thought it was possible for one soul to recognize another. Never knew what it was like to have the very breath stolen from her body. She stood rooted, unable to move or speak. She could only stare at the man she knew she would love for the rest of her life.

  He said something. She saw his lips move, but couldn’t make out the sound. He laughed, grabbed her arm and pulled her outside.

  “Hi,” he said when they were in the relative quiet of the parking lot. “You ma
de it.”

  “I did.”

  He hugged her, his body warm against hers. She wanted to lean in, to get lost in his strength and heat, but he straightened too quickly and she wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet.

  “How’s college?”

  “Good. I’m settling into my classes.”

  “You’re okay in the dorm?”

  He sounded more like a parent than a friend, but she nodded anyway. “Ethan’s good?”

  “He’s dealing.”

  The humor faded from Tucker’s face. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

  “Thanks.”

  Over the summer, her father had unexpectedly died, leaving the whole family shocked and devastated. Although she and her sisters had protested going off to school, their mom had insisted. Ethan had been the only one to put his dreams on hold, to take over the family business.

  “It’s complicated,” she said. “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

  Tucker put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “I want to tell you it will get better, but right now that’s pretty meaningless, huh?”

  “I know it won’t hurt so much later, but it’s hard right now.”

  He stared into her eyes, making the emptiness kind of fade into the background. He still had his arm around her, another amazing concept. Had he felt it, too? The connection?

  For once she wished she had more experience when it came to men. In high school, she’d never much seen the point. There had been the occasional guy, but no real boyfriend.

  “Want to get lunch?” he asked.

  Her heart gave a little jump. Okay, it wasn’t a date, but it was close. “I’d like that.”

  “Good.” He dropped his arm. “Let me go see if Cat wants to take a break.” He shook his head. “She has the classic artistic temperament. I never know when she’s going to go off on me, so don’t be surprised if you hear a lot of screaming.”

  He sounded more excited than upset by the prospect.

  “Cat?” she asked, remembering the female welder.

  But Tucker was already gone, walking quickly into the building.

  Nevada walked to the door and watched as he gracefully climbed the scaffolding. When he reached the welder, he touched her on the shoulder. The sparks stopped and the woman removed her protective gear.

  Even from all the way across the building, Nevada could tell she was beautiful. Long, dark hair tumbled halfway down her back in cascading waves. A classically beautiful face—wide eyes, high cheekbones and a full mouth. The woman stepped out of a jumpsuit, revealing a cropped T-shirt and shorts, long, perfect legs and a waist small enough to belong on a model.

  She and Tucker descended the scaffolding together.

  Once again Nevada was unable to move, but it wasn’t Tucker who held her in place—it was her own sense of insignificance. The woman was older than Nevada, and probably a couple of years older than Tucker. Even casually dressed, she had an air of sophistication. Men wrote songs for women like that, went to war for them, loved them.

  As the couple approached, Nevada wanted to run. She forced herself to stand there, knowing she would probably trip over her own feet if she tried to get away.

  “So, you’re Tucker’s friend,” the woman said, her voice low and sultry, with a slight accent. “I’m delighted to finally meet you. I’m Caterina Stoicasescu.” She held out her long, slender hand.

  “Nevada Hendrix.”

  Nevada shook the strong, scarred hand, doing her best to keep her mouth from hanging open. Her gaze went from the woman to the sculpture and back.

  Caterina Stoicasescu? She was famous all the way to Fool’s Gold. Talented, gifted. She’d been discovered when she was little. Maybe before she was a teenager. Her sculptures were supposed to be brilliant beyond words. Nevada knew her work was displayed all over the world, that Caterina was well-known and wealthy.

  “You are from a small town, yes?” Caterina asked.

  “Fool’s Gold. It’s in the Sierra Nevada foothills. It’s pretty. Quaint. Probably different from your regular life.”

  Caterina smiled, her piercing green eyes tilting up at the corners. “So you’ve heard of me. That’s good.”

  “I’m not an expert, of course, but yes. Your work…” She motioned to the sculpture. “It’s very beautiful.”

  Caterina moved next to her and they both faced the piece. “Tell me. What does it make you feel?”

  Nevada swallowed. “I, um… I don’t really know what you’re asking.”

  “When you look at it, what do you think? What did you think when you first saw it?”

  “I’m an engineering student,” she began, feeling herself blush. She glanced at Tucker, hoping he would rescue her, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead his gaze was locked on the other woman.

  “You’re smart, I can tell. What did you feel?”

  Nevada swallowed. “Sad. Like something bad had happened.”

  Caterina threw up her hands and turned in a circle. “Yes. That is it exactly.” She grabbed Nevada by the shoulders and kissed her on each cheek. “Thank you.”

  Nevada blinked a couple of times. “You’re welcome, Ms. Stoicasescu.”

  “Cat, please. All my friends call me that.” She linked arms with Nevada and motioned to the metal. “It is the end of war. Not something likely to happen, but I made it as a reminder of the pain we all feel. I didn’t plan what it would be. I don’t. I am only the vessel. The art comes through me.”

  Cat turned to her. “So, tell me everything about yourself. I know we are going to be great friends.”

  Nevada was taken aback. “What do you want to know?”

  “All. Start at the beginning. I am from Romania. Do you have brothers or sisters? Yes, you must because that’s how Tucker knows you. We must do something together soon. Perhaps go to a party.”

  “I thought we could get lunch,” Tucker told her.

  Cat released Nevada and turned to him. Her head tilted slightly, causing her blue-black hair to tumble over one shoulder.

  “I thought we would stay in.”

  The simple words were quietly spoken, yet when Cat said them, everything changed. Electricity and heat filled the air. Nevada had been staring at Tucker, so she saw his eyes dilate and his shoulders stiffen.

  Still staring at the beautifully exotic woman between them, Tucker said, “Rain check, Nevada?”

  Even with her complete lack of experience when it came to men and sex, Nevada knew what had happened. What would happen the second she left. They would make love, right there, on the floor. Because they were together and Cat was the kind of woman who inspired a man to incredible passion.

  “Sure,” she whispered, already heading for the door.

  She felt foolish and young and out of place. Her heart ached as she was forced to accept that Tucker hadn’t felt the connection. He thought of her as Ethan’s baby sister. He loved Cat.

  When she stepped outside, her eyes burned in the bright sunlight. She wanted to go back, to tell him he was wrong. That he should give her a chance.

  She turned then, new feelings giving her courage, only to see that Cat and Tucker were already in each other’s arms. Their kiss was more intense, more passionate than anything she’d ever seen or imagined. His hands roamed her body, touching, claiming.

  Embarrassed, Nevada closed the door behind her and hurried to her truck. Once she’d driven away, she told herself it didn’t matter. That she would never see Tucker again. Whatever she’d felt for him would fade as quickly as it had come. In a couple of days she would forget all about him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “YOU KNOW I DON’T LIKE TO INTERFERE,” Denise Hendrix said as she poured chocolate chips into a bowl.

  “If only that were true.” Nevada leaned against the counter and watched her mother mix up cookie batter. “You love to interfere.”

  “No. I love to be right.” Her mother smiled at her. “There’s a difference.”

  “A subtle one.”
/>
  They were in her mother’s kitchen, at the Hendrix family home. Nevada had grown up here. There had been various renovations over the years, the most recent a kitchen remodel, but nothing could ever change the fact that this was the home of her heart.

  Her mother took the bowl to the cookie sheets and began scooping batter into neat rows. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “There’s not much to say. The interview went badly. I was expecting Elliot Janack and I got Tucker instead.”

  “I thought you liked Tucker.”

  Nevada thought about how desperately she’d been in love with Tucker all those years ago. Not real love—but she’d been young and foolish and caught in a world she’d been unprepared for. Cat had been as much a revelation as Tucker himself.

  “Liking him isn’t the problem.”

  She briefly explained about their short past, the lone sexual encounter, sparing her mother the details. “I was embarrassed about what had happened between us, but he kept bringing it up. I swear, he only wants to hire me now to improve his reputation. I’m not interested in that. The job is a great opportunity, but not under those circumstances.”

  “Did he ask you to have sex with him so he could redeem himself?”

  “No, but I don’t want a pity job.”

  Denise put down the spoon and faced her. “You’re saying he wants to give you a job to make up for being bad in bed?”

  Nevada winced. “It made more sense when I was just thinking that in my head. With you asking the question, it sounds stupid.”

  “There’s probably a reason for that.”

  Denise Hendrix had married young and had three boys in less than five years. Determined to have a daughter, she’d gotten pregnant one last time, only to find herself having triplets. She’d handled the shock with her usual grace and humor, raising six children with an ease that left most people amazed.

  A widow for the past eleven years, she’d finally started dating. But her social life didn’t keep her so busy that she didn’t have time to tell her children exactly what she thought. That was both a blessing and a curse.

  “If Tucker was genuinely worried about his reputation, he wouldn’t hire you,” her mother said. “He would run as far and fast as he could, or try to sleep with you now and move on. Why would he risk you telling the entire crew about your night together?”

 

‹ Prev