The Tycoon's Kiss

by Jane Porter

  Three thousand and nine hundred dollars.

  Good God. Did people really pay this much for a single dress? “It’s way too much. Way, way too much.”

  “But it’s perfect,” McKenna said. “You look like a princess.”

  “Anyone would in a dress that costs almost four thousand dollars,” Taylor retorted, turning around to be unzipped.

  “What?” McKenna cried.

  “I know,” Taylor answered.

  “It is couture,” the sales girl said. “One of a kind.”

  “Not for me. I’m not couture,” Taylor said, shaking her head. “I’m an off the rack kind of a girl. Eighty to one hundred dollars max on a dress. That’s my budget. And the ivory dress with the bronze sequin bodice fit me, and my budget. I’ll go with that.”

  Chapter Seven

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  With dresses zipped into garment bags and then stowed in their cars, McKenna and Taylor walked down 1st Avenue to Grey’s Saloon on Main for drinks and appetizers.

  “When does Jane return?” McKenna asked, as they settled into a booth towards the back of the saloon.

  “Tomorrow afternoon,” Taylor answered, glancing towards the pool tables where Callan Carrigan was playing with a couple of cowboys. Taylor had been told that Callan could outride and out rope virtually any local cowboy, and from the looks of it, she could out play them at pool, too. Callan’s sure shots were sending ball after ball into the pockets.

  The guys let out a loud collective groan and McKenna turned to watch Callan take a bow. “Looks like Callan kicked butt again,” McKenna said.

  “She’s nothing like Sage, is she?” Taylor said, secretly rather intimidated by Callan, even though they were practically the same age.

  “Nope. But none of the Carrigan girls are alike. Just as the Sheenan brothers are all so different.” McKenna turned back around, faced Taylor. “Speaking of the Sheenans, just how is it that Jane set you up with Troy?”

  “I’m not sure. It was all Jane’s doing, not my idea at all.” Taylor glanced up, happy to see the waitress with their drinks. Taylor could use a drink right about now, and that was saying something since she was always careful about drinking. Never have more than two. Now all they needed was some food and things would be perfect.

  “Help me understand why Troy needed an arranged date?” McKenna persisted.

  “Jane said Troy’s dad was dying and Troy and his girlfriend had just broken up so Jane was making sure Troy had a date for his own ball.”

  “Seems odd to me that Jane would set you up with him, when I think she had a thing for Troy.”

  “She did,” Taylor agreed. “But apparently now they are just friends.”

  “Hmmm.” McKenna touched her finger to the salt rimming her glass. “I’d love to know Troy’s take on all that.”

  “He claims it was one-sided. He cares about Jane, but nothing more.”

  “I believe it.” McKenna licked the salt from her fingertip. “Jane’s not his type.”

  “Why not? She’s really smart and successful and—”

  “A little too abrasive.”

  “Jane’s not abrasive.”

  McKenna gave her a look. “You have to admit that Jane’s a little pushy.”

  Taylor shrugged uneasily. “It’s her job to get things done.”

  “Fair enough, but she’s not his type. Now you…you could be Troy’s type.”

  “No.”

  “Troy liked sweet girls, sweet, smart, successful girls. Nice girls who also happen to be very smart.” She lifted her glass, sipped her margarita, green eyes gleaming. “Girls like you.”

  Taylor nearly choked on her wine. “He doesn’t like me.”

  “He must like you if he’s kissed you.”

  “He kissed me as a test. It was to see if we had chemistry.”

  “I see. And this is the test you claim you failed?”

  “Yes.”

  McKenna laughed quietly and then sipped her margarita again. “He’s playing you.”

  “He’s not.”

  “Troy Sheenan would never kiss you if there wasn’t a little spark. If he felt absolutely no attraction, he wouldn’t even bother with a kiss.” McKenna shook her glass, letting the ice cubes clink. “Where were you when you kissed?”

  “Main Street Diner.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what I mean. It wasn’t a romantic kiss. He leaned across the table and kissed me to see if there were any… sparks.”

  “He did this all at Main Street Diner?”

  “Yes.”

  McKenna grinned. “Good Lord, girl. He’s definitely interested. He would never kiss you, much less take you to a ball if he wasn’t.”

  “Remember, Jane arranged the ball part.”

  “But I know Troy and he doesn’t do pity dates.” McKenna’s arched brows rose higher. “Troy Sheenan doesn’t have to.”

  “Maybe not a pity date, but it’s not a date date. That’s why he kissed me. To make sure we could be friends, and so that’s what we are.”

  “But you liked kissing him.”

  Taylor blushed. “He knows what he’s doing.”

  “You just need confidence.”

  “I am confident.”

  “Maybe as a librarian, but not as a woman.” McKenna suddenly leaned forward, and reaching out, plucked the glasses from Taylor’s nose. “Why do you wear these all the time now? You didn’t used to.”

  “I need them,” Taylor answered, sticking her hand out, palm up. “May I have them back?”

  “When you first moved here, you hardly ever wore your glasses. Now I never see you in contacts.”

  “I like my glasses,” Taylor said a little stiffly. “And I can’t see you right now, so I’d like them back.”

  McKenna put them in her hand. “Here you go. And don’t be mad. I wasn’t trying to be hurtful. I’m just curious. And maybe concerned.”

  “Concerned, why?”

  “I don’t know. I just kept thinking that maybe something happened.” She must have seen Taylor’s expression because she quickly added, “I get the feeling that you’re hiding, or just hiding behind the glasses. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m just… projecting.”

  A whistle from the pool tables drew Taylor’s attention and she glanced over at Callan who had her hand out, collecting dollar bills. It seemed she’d just won another game.

  “I’m not hiding anything,” Taylor said after a moment. “Just trying to… look… older.”

  “Why?”

  Taylor shrugged. “I was told back in early December that I didn’t look mature enough. That I was too young. So I’m trying to dress more age appropriately.”

  “Age appropriate for what? Too young for what? Take over Margaret’s job as head librarian?”

  “No.” Taylor hesitated, her heart pounding a little too fast, making her suddenly queasy. She really didn’t like discussing Doug with others. Family dynamics were difficult enough without other people weighing in. “Take care of my brother.”

  “You have a younger brother?”

  “He’s not a child. He’s twenty-two. He’s… at Hogue Ranch.”

  McKenna’s forehead creased. “That work ranch, halfway house place out in Paradise Valley?”

  Taylor nodded again. “He’s been there since early September, and he had a chance to be released before Christmas. He was supposed to come live with me, but the judge didn’t think I was old enough, and mature enough, to manage my brother—who happens to have some problems—so instead of letting Doug spend the six month probation period with me, he said Doug had to stay at Hogue.”

  “What did your brother do?”

  “He wasn’t respectful to an officer.”

  “I don’t understand. Did he hurt someone? Attack someone?”

  “No. He was argumentative with a local sheriff who pulled him over for driving too fast. They booked him, and drug tested him and he tested positive for marijuana. He tried to explain that he was argumentative bec
ause the sheriff treated him like he was an idiot, and he’s not, he was just scared and uncomfortable, and then they labeled him as some loser, and he’s not a loser, either. Doug said in court that he sometimes smokes to manage his depression but the judge said this isn’t Colorado or California. If he wants to be a drug addict, go there.” Taylor swallowed hard, and again. “Hogue isn’t a good place for him. It’s hard core. Most men there have been in and out of jail a couple of times, but Doug’s not a criminal. He has clinical depression.”

  “Is that what you told the judge?”

  “I told the judge that Doug needed help. Counseling. Better depression medicine. Or a better dose of his medicine. But the judge dismissed everything I said, claiming that I was too young, and too immature, to know what was right for my brother.”

  McKenna regarded her for a long moment. “You’re angry.”

  “I am.” Taylor drew a slow breath and blinked, clearing her vision. “If I were a man, the judge wouldn’t have talked to me like I was a little girl. If I’d been a local, I can guarantee that my brother wouldn’t be at Hogue right now. My brother would be living with me. Kara even said as much after it was all over.”

  “Kara Jones? The district attorney?”

  “She’s my roommate. Well, house mate. I rent a room from her, and have been living there since I arrived in Marietta last November.”

  “And Kara couldn’t help you?”

  “No. Conflict of interest.”

  “You’d think the judge would see that as a plus on your side. You live with Marietta’s DA!”

  “Kara wanted me to ask one of the local ranching families like the MacCreadies or Carrigans or even the Sheenans to hire Doug. She thought Brock Sheenan would be the perfect person to approach. She said everyone knows Brock, and Brock’s solid and no-nonsense, and went to school with the judge’s daughter, but I was afraid to approach him. Brock didn’t know me from Adam and it made me nervous to get strangers involved. It still does. Doug’s had a hard life. My parents treated him different than me. They were not loving towards him—” Taylor broke off, bit down into her lower lip to hold the tears back. “He’s spent his life struggling to come to terms with their rejection, and he’s allowed to have feelings and be frustrated and figure out who he is, and what he wants, without all of Crawford County judging him.”

  McKenna waited a moment before speaking. “But you know Brock now,” she said quietly. “You’ve met him, you’ve met Harley. He has a big spread, too, and is always looking for help, particularly in the spring. He’s got a foreman who has been with him a long time, and his hands are all good people. He’ll be hiring a few new guys soon. This would be the time to talk to him.”

  “But it’s too late now. Doug has to remain at Hogue until the end of May.”

  “Or not.” McKenna held her gaze. “I think you should hire a good attorney and let your friends here in Marietta help you.”

  Taylor said nothing and McKenna reached across the table and tapped her arm.

  “Are you listening?” McKenna asked.

  Taylor looked up at her. “I am, but McKenna, you grew up here, everybody cares about you here. I’m not Marietta’s sweetheart. I’m a nobody here.”

  “I can help you.”

  “How?”

  “I can go to Brock or Cormac or Troy—”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not going to beg for favors from the Sheenans. That’s wrong. They don’t know me—”

  “You’re going to the ball with Troy!”

  “I explained this already. I’m going with Troy because Jane forced us together.”

  “Phooey. Open your eyes. Use your brain.” McKenna drummed her hand on the table. “Nobody forces Troy to do anything. Not even Trey could get Troy to do something Troy didn’t want to do. And Trey was persuasive, and stubborn, but Troy is strong. Troy doesn’t take crap from anyone, and he doesn’t play games. If he likes you, he likes you, and if he doesn’t, he avoids you. And if you’re going to the ball with him, it’s because he wanted to take you, and if he’s kissed you, it’s because he wanted to put his lips on your lips. Nobody made him.”

  Taylor hung her head, embarrassed. She knew McKenna was looking at her but Taylor didn’t know what to say, or how to articulate her feelings. It was hard enough worrying about her brother and struggling to come to terms with how he’d been rejected by her parents and society, without her having to deal with rejection, too.

  It was a challenge coming to terms with Doug’s depression, and supporting him through his disappointments without her feeling disappointed in herself.

  Without her feeling disappointed in her dreams.

  Better to not want too much or dream too big.

  Better to keep one’s expectations small, and manageable.

  Better to do everything yourself because you couldn’t always rely on others.

  “Why are you so afraid to like Troy?” McKenna asked quietly.

  Taylor pictured him—tall and so darkly handsome—in his long black wool coat and fitted cashmere sweater stepping from his big black Escalade. The man had a private jet. He lived in some outrageous mansion in the most affluent neighborhood in San Francisco. He lived in a world she didn’t know and didn’t understand and would never be part of. “He has so much.”

  “Yes?”

  “I have nothing. I rent a room in a house on Bramble and am lucky to be able to pay my bills each month, while he has a private jet. A jet. It’s embarrassing how different our circumstances are.”

  “You’re not into material things. Even if you had the money, you wouldn’t spend it on fancy toys, but it’s also okay if he has toys. You don’t have to focus on the stuff, focus on him. Are you attracted to him?”

  Taylor shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve never met anyone like him,” she admitted.

  “Is that good or bad?”

  She hesitated only a second. “It’s good.”

  “So stop letting grumpy old Judge McCorkle turn you into a timid little field mouse. Have confidence. Enjoy life. Enjoy your life. You’re beautiful—”

  “I think that’s going too far.”

  “It’s not. You’re really pretty, Taylor. You could even be very sexy if you just lost the sweater sets, grandma pearls, and men’s glasses.”

  “I don’t want to be sexy, but even if I did dress like a hipster, Troy would still be this city slicker—”

  “You don’t know Troy. He’s not a city slicker.” McKenna sounded almost frosty. “Yes, he lives in San Francisco but that’s because he’s brilliant and innovative and it’s where technology and opportunity are, but that doesn’t mean he’s not real, and solid. Because he is. He’s smart…loving…loyal. He’s a wonderful man and he deserves to be treated like a man, and not like a shallow, insincere playboy.”

  Taylor flushed, hearing the criticism in McKenna’s voice. “I’ve never said Troy is an insincere playboy.”

  “No?”

  “I just don’t think we’re suited.”

  “Maybe because you haven’t even given him a chance.”

  Taylor took a long drink from her wine glass, nearly draining it. The wine warmed her, and gave her courage. She set her glass down with a little thunk and looked at McKenna. “If you’re such a Troy Sheenan fan, why didn’t you fall for Troy, instead of Trey? Why wasn’t Troy the right Sheenan?”

  But the moment the words left her mouth, Taylor knew they were the wrong words. She’d said the wrong thing. Taylor didn’t even need to see McKenna’s face to know she’d hurt McKenna, she could just feel it in the air and the sudden heaviness at the table.

  Worse, McKenna said nothing and Taylor’s stomach was now filled with knots. “I’m sorry,” Taylor whispered, ashamed of herself for saying something so flippant and thoughtless when McKenna had been nothing but kind to Taylor since she’d moved here at the end of the summer. “That was terrible. Forgive me.”

  “It’s okay.”

  �
��No, it’s not.”

  “It is, and actually, it’s a very good question,” McKenna said, smiling faintly. But the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure everyone wonders the same thing. Why didn’t I fall in love with Troy? My life would have been so different. So much… easier.” McKenna pushed her glass away from her and glanced at her watch. “Oh dear, it’s late. I need to go. My sitter has a big test tomorrow. I promised I wouldn’t keep her out too late.”

  “I should go, too,” Taylor said, rising, still kicking herself for ruining the mood, and maybe the evening, too. “I really am sorry, McKenna. I shouldn’t have been so sensitive, and I shouldn’t have said what I did—”

  “Stop. It’s okay,” McKenna said firmly, cutting the apology off. “I’m fine. No harm done. Honestly. And yes, you should speak up. Speak your mind. You can’t go through life minimizing yourself, marginalizing yourself, hoping it will please others.” She wagged her finger at Taylor, a hint of her good humor returning. “I used to be a big sister, and so I’ll tell you what I would have told my sister, Fiona Grace. Don’t live to please others. Don’t think everyone else knows what’s right or true. Listen to yourself, and be true to yourself. That way, no matter what else happens in life, you will always have your self-respect.”

  McKenna finished buttoning her coat and slipped her gloves on. “And I don’t know why I didn’t fall for Troy,” she added thoughtfully as they started for the door. “Troy is everything Trey isn’t. He’s good, he’s kind, he’s responsible. Successful. He doesn’t drink too much and he doesn’t get into bar fights—” She broke off, pursed her lips, and shook her head. “No. He’s nothing like Trey, which is why he doesn’t make my heart race or my pulse quicken or make me feel special, and beautiful, and new. And Trey made me feel that. From day one. From day one Trey made me feel like I was the most amazing girl in the world.” Her shoulders lifted and fell. “How can you not love a man that makes you feel like a goddess… absolutely divine?”

  Chapter Eight