by Jamie Beck
If he thought he could embarrass her by bringing up last week’s costume incident, he was about to be taught a lesson.
“Don’t slow down on my account.” Kelsey leaned against her car, arms folded in front of her chest, verbal assault at the ready. “And while it probably will blow your mind, just consider this: the woman you’re so keen to sneak away from might not be all that interested in chasing you down.”
“In my experience, satisfied women always want more.” Undaunted, he came within a foot of Kelsey, his strapping frame casting hers in shadow. He leaned near, his eyes briefly dipping to her cleavage, which was scrunched together by the sports bra she’d worn for class. “And trust me, she’s more than satisfied.”
“Oh yeah?” She eyed his cowboy hat, half tempted to knock it off his head. Egos like his were the reason women like her were still single. “Well, in my experience, most men tend to overestimate their ability in the bedroom.”
“Lucky for me, I’m not like most men.” Trip’s lips curled upward in that sexy, arrogant way he’d perfected. When she rolled her eyes, he said, “If you need proof, just say the word.”
For just a second—a millisecond—she wanted to, badly. Attitude aside, he was hotter than a branding iron, even when mussed up and wearing last night’s wrinkled clothes. And it had been, ahem, a while since she’d been wrapped up in a man’s arms and legs.
Her slight hesitation ignited a spark of energy between them, which appeared to shoot an extra twinkle straight into his eyes. Her body flushed in response.
“No, thanks,” she finally managed. “I wouldn’t want to demolish your delusions of grandeur.”
He chuckled, his throaty laughter making her smile despite her best efforts. When her lips quirked, he raised one brow. Planting one hand on the roof of the car, he leaned forward and murmured, “If you ever change your mind, you let me know.”
It took a lot—a real lot—of resolve to hide the way her insides quivered as his voice skimmed across her ear. Thankfully, Kelsey saw the flash of Emma’s red hair emerge from the inn before Trip could break her down any further. He pushed off the car and faced Emma.
“’Morning.” Trip tipped his hat, smiling. “If you ladies will excuse me, I’ve got a busy day ahead.”
“Fancy seeing you here early in the morning . . . again,” Emma quipped. She narrowed her green eyes. “I might have to ban you from the property so people don’t start getting the wrong idea about this inn.”
“If you were smart, you’d use me to attract repeat business.” When Emma snorted, Trip winked and raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. Don’t want to keep you two from your exercise class. Lord knows how much we men appreciate the results.”
Before Emma or Kelsey could form a retort, he winked and jogged away. Emma watched him for a moment, shaking her head. When she turned to get into the car, she looked over the roof and said, “I know things didn’t work out for you with Grey, but thank God it was him you liked instead of his partner. What a disaster a crush on Trip would’ve been!”
An understatement, yet Kelsey couldn’t deny that some demented part of her brain and heart and other body parts might’ve been willing to risk the fallout.
Trip stepped out of the shower and rubbed the steam off the mirror with his towel. He rested his hands on either side of the sink and stared at himself. The hot water hadn’t eased the tension in his shoulders or around his mouth. An hour from now he’d see his dad for the first time in nearly two years. He guessed the only thing that might loosen him up at this point was amber in color, came in a bottle, and went down the hatch with a bite.
He shaved the scruff from his face, trying to ignore the memories pounding against his skull.
Trip’s father sat on the edge of Trip’s bed, waiting for him to stop crying. His mother had been gone only a month, but it had felt like a year. He missed her. He missed his old room, his old neighborhood and school, his old friends, too.
“Now, son. I know this is hard. Losing your mom so young will leave a hole in your heart for the rest of your life. But now you’ve got a dad. And I’ve got a chance to help you become a man. And part of becoming a man is learning how to face a setback.”
But Trip didn’t want to be a man. He didn’t want to listen to lectures from this virtual stranger, however well-intentioned. “When’s Poppy coming to take me for a sleepover?” The remaining bright spot in his life involved his visits with the man who’d been the real father figure in his life, his namesake, and the man he had always admired.
“He’ll be here soon.” Trip’s dad sighed, then laid a hand on Trip’s leg. “Since you brought him up, I wanted to ask you something. Now that I’ve adopted you, I was wondering if you might like to change your last name to mine. What do you think?”
Trip’s body curled away from his father’s touch. “No!” When he noticed his father’s defeated expression, he softly added, “Sorry.”
Even now Trip winced at the recollection. That exchange had kicked off a pattern of his dad reaching out and Trip pulling back, never quite able to accept the love and attention as genuine. The circumstances surrounding his adoption, and Mason and Deb’s nasty barbs, had always left Trip feeling like an outsider, a runner-up, a mistake his dad had to “be a man” and handle.
Maybe he’d never given his dad a fair shot. Maybe the time had finally come to try to accept the fact that they shared DNA, among other things. Maybe this visit would be the one to change the tide of their relationship.
Trip sat in the lobby of the hotel where Wade was staying, his stomach growling. A few weeks ago he’d sat here with Grey and Wade, hammering out a deal for access over part of Wade’s planned development. Now he was sitting here with his dad and Wade, which kind of blew his mind.
He studied his father, tuning out his dad and Wade’s conversation for the third time in thirty minutes. The gray hairs at his father’s temples had spread throughout his dark hair, giving him that distinguished “salt-and-pepper” look. At sixty-five, Ross Cutler looked younger than his years. Perhaps Trip would age well, too. They shared some features, like olive-colored skin, dark hair, a square jaw. But Trip’s green eyes came from his mother’s family, as did his height.
He knew his dad and Mason had always hated being five inches shorter than him, although for different reasons. Trip suspected his dad disliked the height difference because it came from Poppy, serving as a reminder of the whole gulf between Trip and his dad.
As for Mason, Trip’s size and athleticism has only further divided him from his more bookish brother, especially because their dad had openly admired Trip’s physical prowess. The nail in the coffin had come when Trip had been only thirteen and happened upon Mason, then a high school junior, being bullied. Thinking he might salvage some relationship with Mason, he’d jumped into the fray and taken down the two bullies within minutes. Mason, however, only grew more hateful after that incident. Whether that was from jealousy or humiliation, Trip was never sure.
He was chewing on that thought when his dad’s deep chuckle snapped him back to the present.
“Thanks for coming here to discuss the project in person, Ross. I’ll be making a final decision very soon.” Wade smiled. “If things don’t work out, perhaps we’ll get another opportunity in the near future with another tract of local land I’ve got my eye on. Apparently the owner recently died and his heirs might be interested in selling, so my timing is perfect.”
Trip jerked his gaze toward Wade. “What land?”
“Eight acres at the northwest corner of town.”
“For what purpose?” Trip heard the bitter edge in his voice, but Wade appeared indifferent.
“Upscale retail and office space.”
Disgust gripped every muscle in Trip’s body, but he shook it off when his father shot him a stern look. Now wasn’t the time to raise objections, but Trip would not stand idly aside and let Wade Kessler or anyone else destroy Sterling Canyon’s charm. First he’d get inf
ormed, then he’d form a plan—mobilize others who were sure to see things his way and try to convince the heirs not to sell.
“I hope we don’t have to wait for another shot,” his dad interjected. “I’ve got a good feeling about this development and know we can deliver what you want, on time and on budget, and better than any of our competitors. I pride myself on my reputation.” Ross nodded. “Now if you two will excuse me for a minute, I need to make a quick call. Son, I’ll meet you back here in a few. Wade, you have a good day.”
Ross shook Wade’s hand and meandered about fifteen feet away, phone at his ear.
Trip heard the click of Kelsey’s heels tapping against the marble lobby floor before he saw her crossing to the concierge desk. He had to bite his tongue to keep from whistling.
Snug blue dress, cut high and low in all the right places. Cute shoes that showed off the red polish on her toenails. Dangling earrings calling attention to that nice spot along her neck. His only quibble with her appearance this afternoon would be the fact that she’d tied up all that awesome hair in some kind of knot. He much preferred when her mass of golden curls hung loose, like they had when he’d bumped into her this morning.
“Looks like my next appointment has arrived a few minutes early,” Wade said, standing to greet her.
Trip stood, too, and noticed Kelsey flashing Wade a gigantic smile and flirty wave. If she was surprised to find him with Trip, she hid it well. However, her smile faded a bit when she acknowledged Trip’s presence with a slight nod.
“Wade,” she began, laying a hand on Wade’s forearm, “I’m so excited to show you two of these properties today.”
“You’ve got another project in mind?” Trip asked Wade, his gut burning once more.
“I’m thinking about buying a vacation home.” Wade grinned congenially at both Trip and Kelsey while rocking back on his heels.
“Why not take up in one of the luxury condos you’re building?” Trip asked, hoping his sarcasm hadn’t quite registered with Wade. Seriously, how much shit did one guy need to own?
“I think it’s best to put some distance between myself and the future condo association. Plus, Kelsey here has piqued my interest in looking for a unique vacation home.”
“Not just a unique one,” Kelsey said, using her eyes to enhance the come-hither smile on her lips. “The perfect one. Something in a prime location. Something cozy. Something special. And I think I’ve got just the place.”
“Well, Kelsey, I can’t wait to see what you’ve got.” Wade winked, but based on his brotherly demeanor, Trip felt sure he didn’t intend the double meaning that immediately popped into Trip’s head.
Meanwhile, Kelsey was putting on quite a display for Wade throughout the conversation. She stood a tad too close to him, touched her hair and her collarbone flirtatiously, and licked her lips once, too. If Wade didn’t have a hard-on yet, he was gay or impotent.
What did Kelsey see in Wade, Trip wondered? The guy was at least a decade older than her and not very charismatic. He wasn’t bad looking, but he wasn’t exactly handsome. Average height, average build, dark blond hair, nothing distinguishing about his face except perhaps a strong-looking nose.
Sure, the guy seemed friendly, but that didn’t seem like enough to capture the interest of a woman like Kelsey. Normally he might suspect Wade’s “bucks deluxe” of being the big fascination, but Kelsey had never struck him as a gold digger. He’d seen his fair share of those in Denver, including his brother’s wife. Yet another reason he never spoke of or pulled from his trust fund. At least he knew the women he’d been with had been interested in him, not his wallet.
Wade’s phone rang, so he excused himself for a minute and stepped a few feet away. Trip noted Kelsey’s gaze following Wade.
“You’re trying too hard,” Trip whispered to Kelsey, while crossing his arms over his chest.
Kelsey stuffed the real estate listings back into her portfolio. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yeah, you do.” Trip chuckled. “You’re coming on too strong. Trust me, it’s only going to send him running in the opposite direction.”
She scowled. “Well, you would know about running.”
“I know about men. And men like to hunt, not be hunted.” When she tilted her head in response, a little curl of hair fell out of that knot. Instead of twisting it around his finger like he wanted, Trip kept his hands locked beneath his armpits. “You want Wade’s attention? Quit being so obvious about the fact you like him. Make him come to you.”
“Why do men like games?” She shook her head.
“It’s not about games. The chase is half the damn fun. If you take it away, you lose the anticipation and all that other good stuff.”
Kelsey rolled her eyes. “You may think I’m desperate, but I’m not so desperate as to take love life advice from you, for God’s sake.”
“Fair enough.” Trip raised his hands, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Do it your way, since it’s worked so well for you so far.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and he almost apologized, but Wade returned. “Ready to head out?”
Trip had to hand it to Boomerang—she recovered quickly.
Kelsey smiled at Wade, although less radiantly, Trip noted with a smug sense of satisfaction. “Absolutely. Let’s go find you a new house.”
“See you later, Trip.” Wade escorted Kelsey through the lobby.
Trip smiled when Kelsey put a little more distance between her body and Wade’s. Of course, he didn’t want to think about why that made him happy.
His gaze followed them out the door, or, more honestly, he watched Kelsey’s hips sway until they disappeared.
Before he realized it, his father had sneaked up beside him.
“She’s a real looker.” His dad’s alert gaze remained fixed on the entrance. “Was that Wade’s girlfriend?”
Trip’s dad seemed almost as enthralled as him. Yes, something else he’d apparently inherited from his old man—an “appreciation” of beautiful women. And an ego big enough to go after them. Precisely why Trip wouldn’t make the same mistake his dad did and commit to just one.
“Not yet.” Trip glanced at his dad.
“That’s good.” Ross’s blue eyes lit up.
Trip stuck his thumbs through his belt loops, irked by his dad’s interest in Kelsey. “Last I checked, you were still married to Deb. Didn’t you learn your lesson, yet?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could swallow them. His father’s head drooped as he sighed. “I wasn’t talking about me, Gunner. I meant good for you.”
“For me?” Trip grimaced. “What the hell do I care if Kelsey dates Wade or not?”
His dad slapped his shoulder. “Oh, you care. I’m old, but I’m not blind.”
What did that mean? The parts of his body that enjoyed watching Kelsey walk out the door weren’t anywhere near his heart, for God’s sake.
“She’s pretty, sure. But Boomerang’s not on my to-do list. Trust me.”
“Boomerang?” His dad rubbed his chin.
Trip closed his eyes, sighing. “Long story.”
“I’ve got time. Take me to lunch before I catch the jet back to Denver. You can fill me in then.”
Chapter Three
Kelsey woke up late on her birthday and stared at the ceiling. Thirty-one. Normally she loved any extra attention on her birthday, but not this year.
Thirty-one years old!
On her thirtieth, she’d painted the town red with a group of friends and acquaintances. This year she’d threatened everyone—no big parties or hoopla. All she wanted was a quiet day with the people she loved. Lunch with her besties followed by an evening with her family.
Of course, even though she’d made modest plans, she still wanted—needed—to look fabulous. An hour later, makeup done and hair smoothed, she left her home wearing a smart-looking caramel-colored wrap dress and platform beige suede heels.
She met Emma and Avery
at Smuggler’s Notch. Late-July sunlight streamed through the plate-glass windows of the recently renovated tavern. Reclaimed hardwood floors were all that remained of the old building. The stone-and-steel interior finishes were what Kelsey called “cowboy chic,” where the Old West meets Manhattan. While she enjoyed Sterling Canyon’s historic appeal, Kelsey liked modernization, too, and appreciated when local businesses upgraded and remodeled to keep up with the times.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you—” Avery and Emma sang, standing and greeting Kelsey with hugs and kisses.
Kelsey curtsied in jest and then they all sat down. In front of Kelsey’s seat was a gift-wrapped box.
“Thanks, guys.” Kelsey toyed with a bow on the package. “You didn’t need to buy me anything.”
“Oh, shut up and open the gift.” Avery said, the flecks of gold in her blue eyes sparkling. “You knew we wouldn’t listen.”
Kelsey raised her wineglass in the air. “Cheers to that!” After practically chugging its contents, she started to untie the ribbons.
Em chuckled. “I have to admit, I’m happy to see you so upbeat today. I know you’ve been trying your best to ignore this birthday.”
“I’m not exactly thrilled about it, but it is what it is.” Kelsey stopped unwrapping the gift to look at Emma before swigging more wine. “Might as well embrace it.”
“Love the attitude.” Avery raised her glass. “So what’s your birthday wish this year?”
“My old standby—falling desperately in love with the guy who will love me back just as much.”
“I’ve always teased you about that, but now I have to confess, it is a worthy goal.” Avery’s cheeks flushed. A notorious unromantic, that admission had to have killed her. Never mind the bitter irony of Avery finding love before Kelsey, despite the fact Kelsey had been the one actively pursuing it for the past decade. Kelsey wasn’t proud that a pinch of envy clouded her happiness for her friend, but she wouldn’t lie to herself either.