by Jamie Beck
Off her game from the moment she’d agreed to Trip’s sexy proposition. And getting in deeper every day thanks to his nightly drop-ins this past week. Just picturing him caused her to absentmindedly stroke her neck, as if his fingers were toying with her hair.
She smacked her forehead to knock his image out of her brain, then bookmarked a few listings and scheduled appointments to go see two newer ones.
She glanced out the huge picture windows of her office at the cloudy skies hovering over town. Next month, she and her friends would be basking under the brilliant Mexican sun.
While sipping her latte, she studied the website of the Esperanza resort, where she’d booked a three-bedroom suite for four nights.
Sun-Baked Stone Massage and Cucumber Lime Facial sounded nice. Papaya-Mango Body Polish. Avocado Butter Mani-Pedi. Just as she got swept away by the menu of spa treatments, the devil breezed through her office door, throwing her emotions into chaos once more.
“Good morning, princess.” Trip greeted her with a cheerful smile when he came to a stop on the other side of her desk. He glanced around the front room of her office, with its muted Tibetan carpet, cozy chairs, opaque glass lamp, and large mahogany desk—which she knew was a huge step above Backtrax’s decades-old decor. “Wow. Nice digs.”
“Thanks.” From her desk chair, she craned her neck to meet his gaze. He looked as handsome as ever in faded jeans and an untucked blue-and-green plaid flannel shirt.
Her fingers itched to run through his shiny, dark hair. Her lips ached for his kiss. Her eyes raked over every inch of his six-foot-three-inch frame, coming to rest at the animal crate in his one hand and stuffed paper grocery bag in the other.
“Whatcha got in there?” She stood and walked around the desk, happy for an excuse to draw nearer to him, while trying to peer into the darkened interior of the crate.
“A surprise.” Trip’s radiant grin chased away the dreary skies and heated the room, even though she knew she shouldn’t let herself get used to him brightening her days.
He set the bag on one of the two client chairs facing her desk, and then placed the crate on the table in between. Once he’d unlatched the door, he pulled out a tiny gray-and-white kitten. It wriggled in his large hands as he tickled beneath its chin. “Isn’t he cute?”
Kelsey bit her lower lip to keep from chuckling. “I’d have pegged you as a dog person. How will Grey’s dog handle this addition to that tiny apartment you two share?”
Trip furrowed his brow as he shook his head. “It’s not for me. It’s for you.”
He thrust the kitten toward her, dropping it in her hands.
“For me?” Kelsey tentatively took hold of the living fur ball. Her mind raced, but her heart instantly warmed to the pint-size creature. Its teeny tongue grazed her fingers like a fine-grained nail file. She looked up at Trip, whose gentle smile softened an intense expression that caused her breath to catch. She cleared her throat and asked, “Why?”
Trip avoided her gaze while he stepped closer and stroked the kitten’s back. “I know you’ve been a little blue. My buddy Jon’s girlfriend’s cat just had a litter of kittens. I thought you might like one.” His cheeks had turned a bit red, and he cracked his knuckles in obvious discomfort. “It’s cuddly. Girls like cuddly stuff, right?”
Her lips quirked at his awkward behavior. “Some of us do, yes.”
Trip finally looked directly at her, his expression tentative. “If you don’t want to keep him, I can take him back.”
“Oh, just try and take him from me.” She clutched the little kitten closer to her chest, still reeling from the fact that not only had Trip been genuinely bothered by her sorrow, but he’d also hoped to remedy it with this pet. “This is very sweet of you, Trip. What’s his name?”
Trip shrugged. “Up to you, I guess.” He scratched his neck, one side of his mouth curving upward. “I got kitty litter and some food and other stuff in that bag. Not sure what else you need, but this should get you through a couple of days.”
Kelsey placed the kitten back into its crate and faced Trip, trying to square this considerate side of him with the womanizer she’d known for most of the past year. She stepped closer to him, cocking one brow, and lightheartedly poked his chest with her finger. “You know, this clinches it. Your carefree cowboy act is just that—an act. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
He narrowed his gaze and spoke with the playful cockiness he’d perfected. “I know you won’t, princess, because that would mean you’d have to disclose our little fling, and I know that terrifies you.”
“Touché.” On impulse, she grabbed his hand and led him away from the prying eyes outside the street-level windows to the small storage room in the back of the office. “Now I want to show my appreciation. Tell me, what can I do for you?”
“Hmm.” He tugged her ponytail free. “First, stop putting your hair in these contraptions. I like it better down.”
“It gets in my way when I work.” She shook it loose then wrapped her arms around his neck. “Besides, I didn’t plan on seeing you today.”
“That makes two of us.” He brushed his hands along her sides, tugged at her hips, and then kissed her. “But I’m not sorry, are you?”
“No.” Kelsey kissed him again, pressing herself against his body. His erection drove into her lower abdomen, making her chuckle. “You’re always ready to go.”
“Like Pavlov’s dog whenever I see you. Hell, it happens anytime I think about you, actually.” He lifted her and sat her on a file cabinet, then kissed her while running his hands up under her skirt along her thighs. “I want you right now.”
His hands stroked her waist and breasts. The low rumble coming from his chest aroused her.
“I’m all yours.” Kelsey spread her legs, locking her ankles behind his hips, wishing she could say those same words in a different context without scaring him away.
As she kissed his neck, he shoved her skirt up to her hips and unzipped his jeans.
Then they heard the front office door squeak open just before Avery’s voice called out, “Kelsey? You back there?”
Trip froze. Kelsey slid off the file cabinet while yelling, “Just a sec, Ave. I’m coming.”
“Almost coming, princess,” Trip whispered in her ear, sending another wave of tremors through her core.
Kelsey pressed her fingers to Trip’s lips to silence him and then straightened her skirt and smoothed her hair before grabbing a batch of paper and striding out of the storage room to greet her friend. “Sorry. What brings you by?”
“Emma and I wanted to take you to lunch to discuss Cabo. We’re so excited, although Grey’s a little crabby about it.”
“He can do without you for four days.” Kelsey dropped the paper on her desk. “But I can’t meet for lunch today. I have a client appointment at twelve thirty. Maybe dinner?”
“Okay. I’ll talk to Emma.” Avery looked at the crate and grocery bag. “What’s all this?”
“Oh.” Kelsey had nearly forgotten about the kitten. She brought him back out of his crate. “A rescue kitten. Isn’t he cute?”
“I didn’t know you wanted a pet.” Avery rubbed its leg.
“Neither did I, but he’s just the perfect thing for me right now.” Kelsey brushed her cheek against his soft fur.
“What’s his name?”
Kelsey frowned for a second, and then smiled as it came to her in a flash. “Cowboy.”
“Huh.” Avery’s perplexed expression made Kelsey smile. “Guess that’s as good a name as any.”
“It’s the perfect name for this cat, trust me.” Kelsey longed to share her private joke with her best friend, but she couldn’t. The limitations of her and Trip’s relationship—or whatever—tightened her chest, providing a stark reminder of one of many reasons why she should end their foolishness sooner rather than later. Yet her stomach pinched at the idea.
Besides, she saw no reason to call it quits with Trip until she met someone who wanted some
thing more than casual sex. It wasn’t like a bunch of men carrying little black velvet boxes were lined up at her doorstep.
“I’ll take your word for it.” Avery shrugged. “Anyhow, I looked into a little artisan community called Todos Santos, about an hour or less outside of Cabo. It might be a nice afternoon trip.”
“Sure. I’m up for anything.” Desperate to get Avery out of her office before her friend discovered Trip, she said, “Listen, I hate to rush you, but I’ve got to prepare for my appointment.”
“Call me later about dinner.”
Kelsey waved as Avery waltzed out the door and turned toward her physical therapy clinic. Once Avery was out of sight, Kelsey sagged against her desk and let loose a whooshing sigh. She placed Cowboy back in his crate and called to Trip, “Coast is clear. You can come out now.”
When Trip emerged, he looked agitated and uncomfortable, stuffed back in his snug jeans. “Not a fan of being interrupted.”
“Sorry.” She reached out toward him, then remembered the street-level windows and dropped her hand.
“How about I come see you later tonight?” He stepped closer, but a quick glance at the street outside kept him from touching her. Still, the heat of his body pushed against her skin.
She should say no. She should stop pretending he might actually want more than a superficial fling. She should end this nonsense before she proved her sister right and lost her heart. A couple of weeks more, it whispered, despite common sense. “Sure.”
A mix of satisfaction and relief flashed in his eyes before he turned to go, then he paused. “You never mentioned your trip to Cabo.”
“Avery, Emma, and I are taking a little girls’ trip.”
Trip grinned, although his expression grew distant. “Three pretty girls in bikinis. I’m guessing you’ll be surrounded by guys before long.”
Was he jealous? Her stupid heart sped up at the idea. Why was she so prone to spinning fantasies instead of facing reality?
“No wonder Grey’s been grumpy lately.” Trip blew out a breath and then glanced at the animal crate and smiled. “Like the name, by the way. If you want, I’ll watch Cowboy for you while you’re away.”
Aw, Cowboy was their cat—except “they” weren’t really a couple, and no one could know that Trip had given her the kitten.
“That’d be hard to explain. Don’t worry, though. Fee will love to be in charge of him for a few days.”
Trip chuckled. “If she can break away from Lolly.”
He remembered the doll’s name. That had to mean something, didn’t it? Or was she just grasping at anything—anything—to turn Trip into the man she wished he could be instead of the man he insisted he was? If only he’d always act like the cock of the walk instead of showing hints of a warm, caring man, she wouldn’t have to fight so hard to keep perspective.
“True.” Kelsey stepped away from Trip and toward her desk, needing space from him to get her head back together. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I do have an appointment in a bit.”
“With Wade?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Is this about that property at the edge of town?” Trip’s gaze narrowed while he placed his hands on his hips.
“Yes.” She crossed her arms. “I know that makes you unhappy, but you’d better resign yourself to it. If it makes you feel better, I’m going to persuade Wade that the design of the project should be in keeping with the Victorian look of town.”
“I’m hardly the only one in town not thrilled with the idea of another Kessler development. When you all hit a roadblock with the zoning board or whatnot, remember I warned you not to count on this one.” The cool tone in his voice sent a shiver down her neck. But she wouldn’t give in so easily.
“And I told you, I know what I’m doing. This transaction involves private parties, not public land. People may gripe, but there’s nothing they can do to stop it, especially when a chunk of that land is zoned for light commercial use.”
Trip opened his mouth and hesitated, as if he was considering saying something important. Ultimately he didn’t. Instead, he lapsed into his playboy persona, winked and pushed open the door to the street. “I’ll see you later.”
Trip handed his carry-on bag to the attendant and then boarded his dad’s Learjet 60XR late that afternoon, eager for takeoff. Things must be dire for Deb to have sent the jet to bring him home right away. Consumed by an abnormal bout of panic, he texted Kelsey to cancel their plans.
Can’t make it tonight. Flying to Denver. Dad had a heart attack and is having surgery. Not sure when I’ll be back.
He put the phone in airplane mode and shoved it in his jacket pocket before buckling his seat belt and staring out the small window. Despite the wide beige leather seats, Trip had always felt cramped in the cabin. He glanced around at the burled wood and five empty seats.
It had been several years since he’d stepped foot on this plane. The last time had been six years ago, when he’d flown back from Mason’s Caribbean wedding with his father and Deb. Trip had tried to keep out of Deb’s way by reading and sleeping and listening to iTunes, but he couldn’t avoid her entirely without appearing rude. So he’d suffered through her recitation of every remarkable thing about Mason’s wedding: the ideal weather, the exotic floral arrangements, the phenomenal band, the delicious food, and the perfect bride.
Trip couldn’t help but snicker at the thought that Deb probably didn’t consider Jen to be the perfect bride any longer, then immediately derided himself for being petty at a time like this. He had to set aside his battle with Deb and Mason, at least while he was in Denver.
Trip didn’t spend much time worrying about death, especially considering the risks he took on the mountain. But he’d faced losing a parent before. Although most memories of his mother’s death were blurry and indistinct, a few sharp images tightened his throat: the one and only time he ever saw his grandfather cry, clutching his mother’s hand as she drew her last breath, his new dad squeezing his shoulder while Trip walked out of his childhood home for the last time—crying—with his suitcases in hand.
Now, as the jet hurtled across the sky, his father was going under the knife for some kind of heart surgery. He could die before Trip had the chance to sit with him, man to man, to talk about why they never quite connected.
He pinched his nose to stop the tingling, then wiped the tear from the corner of his eye. Thirty minutes until landing, and then another forty-five or so before he could reach the hospital. Closing his eyes, he reclined his seat and prayed.
He entered his father’s hospital room, where his old man lay in bed, hooked up to monitors, with his eyes closed. Mason and Deb sat together holding hands and talking quietly. Trip hadn’t seen Deb in years but she hadn’t aged much. Botox, most likely: that and auburn hair dye.
He’d never considered her brittle kind of beauty appealing. Today her uncharacteristically splotchy face and red-rimmed eyes shocked him.
How bad was his dad?
Mason looked up, as if hearing Trip’s thoughts. His weary eyes barely flickered their normal resentment. “You made good time.”
Trip nodded. “Thanks for sending the jet.”
“Dad wanted you here.” Mason glanced at Trip and then to the floor. “Sorry we couldn’t get you here before the surgery. We were really caught off guard.”
Trip stood across from Deb. “What have the doctors told you?”
Deb straightened up and donned the detached expression she’d always used with him. “It’s better news than we’d anticipated. They inserted a stent in the collapsed artery. Fortunately, his heart muscle didn’t sustain overwhelming damage from the heart attack and he didn’t need a bypass. He’ll go home tomorrow, but be on medication from now on, and will be in cardiac rehab therapy. The good news is that the recovery from this procedure is relatively quick. After a few days of taking it easy, he can slowly start to resume normal activities.”
“Thank God.” Trip briefly closed his eyes and blew
out a deep breath. Now he had time to work things out with his dad. Not in the next few days, but in several weeks, once he’d recovered more fully. “Sounds like the best-case scenario under the circumstances.”
His dad’s eyelids fluttered open. “Gunner?”
Trip moved to the edge of the bed and touched his dad’s arm. “Right here, Dad. Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”
“You’re here now.” His dad flashed a weak smile then winced when he tried to shift in the bed. “Help me raise the bed.”
“Dad, can’t you just lie still for a while?” Mason asked. “Consider it practice for slowing down and working less.”
Before addressing Mason, Trip shook his head and winked at his dad. “Dad won’t slow down until it’s over. Nothing wrong with that, though.”
“Nothing wrong with ignoring the concerns of his wife, children, and grandchildren who’d like him to stick around longer?” Mason rubbed his hands on the arms of the chair, muttering to himself. “Not that you’d miss him.”
Deb placed her hand on Mason’s thigh to silence him.
Trip bit his tongue even as his body flashed hot and cold. Mason had a way of twisting all of Trip’s words around so they ended up sounding different than he’d intended. Still, he couldn’t upset his father by engaging in an argument with his brother.
“Don’t dig my grave just yet. The doctor assured me I’d be okay,” their dad said to Mason. Then he turned to Trip. “How long will you stay in town?”
“Not sure. I got coverage for a client expedition tomorrow. Don’t have anything on the books for the next day, but if things come up I can probably get more coverage. Figured I’d play it by ear and see how you were doing.”
“Are you staying at the house?” His dad glanced at Deb, who quickly masked her displeasure, and then back at Trip.
Trip had planned to camp out in a hotel, but he lied to avoid being rustled into staying at the mausoleum the rest of his family called home.
“Actually, I thought you’d be in the hospital longer, so I made other arrangements with a friend. But I’ll hang out all day and help Deb however I can while I’m here.” His father’s disappointed expression landed like a sucker punch to the gut. “Maybe I could change my plans, if that’s what you prefer.”