Redemption Bay_Contemporary Romance

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Redemption Bay_Contemporary Romance Page 10

by RaeAnne Thayne


  “It just took me a minute to throw together a salad,” she answered, deciding not to mention the lipstick and the extra layer of mascara, for obvious reasons.

  “Looks great.”

  He was talking about the salad. That’s all.

  She held up the small bag. “When I came home from work, I picked some early green beans from the garden. You can sauté them on the grill or I can borrow your stove and cook them inside.”

  He smiled. “Yum. Haricot verts.”

  “Right. Well, here in Idaho we call them plain old green beans, not some fancy French term.”

  “I had some delicious plain old green beans in Paris last month when I was there visiting the Caine Tech office in Europe but I’m sure they still won’t compare to fresh-picked from a high mountain garden.”

  He lived a fast-paced life she couldn’t even imagine. “When you were a kid living here on the lake, did you ever guess that one day you would be traveling the world, moving and shaking for Caine Tech?”

  “Not for an instant. Of course, when I lived here, Caine Tech didn’t exist—except in Aidan’s imagination, maybe.”

  “You know what I mean. Some people have their lives planned out, minute by minute. I just wondered if this was your master plan from the beginning, to end up where you are now.”

  “I didn’t have a master plan. I just wanted to get through high school so I could get out of that house and this town.”

  The bitterness in his voice took her by surprise—both that he felt so strongly about leaving Haven Point and that he would confide in her about it.

  It made her wonder all over again about his childhood. She had always sensed the house wasn’t a joyful place. Sadness seemed to seep through the chinking between the log walls. She had always assumed it was because Lily’s terminal cystic fibrosis and her valiant efforts to stay alive had become the focus of the family. Now she wondered if the reason was something deeper, something that had to do with the coolness between Ben and his mother.

  She sensed somehow that Joe Kilpatrick was the key to all of it.

  Few people in town had liked Joe. He had been a difficult man, a bully and a petty tyrant who demanded special treatment from everyone because Kilpatrick Boatworks was the largest employer in town.

  McKenzie’s interactions with him had been minimal, just a few encounters when he had come into Lily’s room to check on her, but he had always seemed solicitous.

  She had seen him yell at Ben once, she suddenly remembered. She had been helping Lily with her schoolwork one evening and had gone downstairs to find a glass of water for her. Ben had been sitting at the kitchen table, white-faced, while Joe called him some particularly nasty names. She didn’t remember details, only how embarrassed she had been and how she had crept back to Lily’s room without the glass of water.

  “Was it so very terrible, growing up at Snow Angel Cove?” she asked quietly.

  He gazed at her for a long moment, a muscle flexing in his jaw. Finally, he shrugged. “Who doesn’t come from a little dysfunction?”

  She certainly could agree with that, especially given her own situation.

  “These steaks are almost done,” he said, giving her the distinct impression he was trying to avoid the topic. “I think we can sauté your beans out here on the side burner of the grill. I just need to grab a pan.”

  He headed into the house and she took a seat at the cast-iron table on the patio, watching the last rays of the sun gleaming on the water.

  Hondo and Rika sprawled out side by side on the flagstone terrace, the best of friends despite their short acquaintance.

  She envied dogs for that. They didn’t need to know someone’s life history or probe into all their dark corners. They gave their affection with uncomplicated abandon.

  He returned a moment later with an olive-oil spritzer and a frying pan, along with a couple of plates.

  She was suddenly struck by the surreal moment. Ben Kilpatrick—tech billionaire, hometown boy, the man whose name she had cursed for years—was fixing her dinner. It didn’t seem quite real that she was here with him. They had even shared a bit of civil conversation while the night settled in around them and their dogs dozed together.

  “If you’d like, I can take care of the haricot verts,” she said, with the clear accent she had attained in three years of high school French.

  “Great, since I have no idea what I’m doing with anything but steak.” That devastating smile flashed and her resident butterflies responded accordingly.

  She ignored them and headed for the grill. From the larger bag of beans, she pulled the small zipper bag containing the unsalted butter, minced garlic and shallots she used in her recipe. A few moments, a shake of the pan, and she was basically done.

  He plated the steaks and handed them to her to add the beans, then Ben carried them to the table, where he had already set out a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine.

  “This all looks perfect. When I offered to grill a steak for you, I had no idea I was setting myself up for a gourmet meal.”

  “Hardly that. I am competent in the kitchen but that’s as far as it goes.”

  For all her nerves, it turned into one of the most lovely meals she had enjoyed in a long time. Once she convinced herself to call a truce for the evening, she discovered Ben was filled with wry observations and wide-ranging interests that made for fascinating conversation.

  He told her more about his recent visit to Paris and the unforgettable trip he took down the Amazon River on a fishing boat the previous summer. She found herself fascinated by his travels, and by the man himself.

  “So what about you?” he asked, when the conversation dragged a little. “I think I’ve talked about myself more tonight than I have in longer than I can remember. You told me you became mayor by default. What about the rest of it? Your business. This house. Why stay in Haven Point? Didn’t you ever want to see what might be out there in the big, wide world?”

  She sipped at her wine. “I’ve seen the big, wide world and I like my small one much better, thanks very much.”

  “Have you?”

  “For your information, Mr. Skeptic, I have an MBA from Northwestern and after graduation, I worked for two years in middle management of a major bank in Chicago.”

  “Really?”

  She had shocked him. He gaped at her as if she had suddenly jumped up and started badonka donking on the table.

  “I know this will come as a surprise to you, but I’m not a complete hayseed.”

  “I never said you were any sort of hayseed,” he protested.

  “Admit it. You were thinking it.”

  “Not a hayseed. I would never go that far. Okay, maybe I thought your focus was a little...narrow.”

  “My focus is just right. I’ve lived in a big city, with all the excitement and restaurants and nightlife. I loved it while I was there but only after I came home to Haven Point did I realize I was always playing a role there. It wasn’t me.”

  “Why did you come back?”

  She played with the stem of her wineglass. “My father had a massive heart attack three years ago. From his hospital bed, he begged me to come back and run his business holdings here. He was an attorney but he had also branched off in later years and had taken on various business endeavors over the years—a couple of condo developments in Shelter Springs, a sporting goods store in town, a few fast-food outlets. He was doing too much, which probably contributed to his heart attack.”

  “He asked you to give up your life and your job in Chicago to come back here and, just like that, you did it?”

  “Of course.” She was a little surprised he even made it sound like a question. “He needed help. What else could I do?”

  “I don’t know. He could have sold his holdings or taken on someone local to manag
e them for him.”

  “Great advice. I have two words for you. Fletcher Barnes.”

  He winced at the reminder of the property manager he had hired, who had caused such trouble here while Ben wasn’t paying attention. “Point taken.”

  “Here’s the thing. I had a great job in Chicago and they were very good to me there. I had friends and an active social life, but it only took me a few weeks back home to realize I was much happier here.”

  “Do you still manage your father’s business interests?”

  She shook her head. “He died of another heart attack about six months after I came back. I consider those six months a gift. He and I spent a great deal of time together—out on the water, hiking in the mountains, watching old movies together.”

  Rika made a little snuffly noise in her sleep and McKenzie smiled over at her dog and at a sudden tender memory. “He even gave me Rika for my birthday, a few months after I came back. Adele would never let Devin or me have pets. She thought they were too much trouble and didn’t like the mess, but since I had moved into a little rental of my own up near the Hell’s Fury, Dad thought I needed a fierce guard dog to keep me company. You can see how well that turned out. She’s great company and I truly adore her but she’s not so great in the fierce-guard-dog arena.”

  “We all have our strengths.”

  She laughed. “Yes. Rika’s strength is that she loves everyone. She’s a great salesperson in the store, though somebody could probably rob me blind and she would just lick them to death.”

  “I’m learning Hondo is quite social for a German shepherd, but he’s protective enough to get the job done.”

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do with him?”

  He gazed at the two dogs. “No,” he answered. “I’m looking around for a good home. Are you sure Rika doesn’t want some company? Between the two of them, they would scare away even the hardiest of intruders for you.”

  She smiled, entirely too drawn to him here in the moonlight. “Tempting. But no. One dog is more than enough for me to handle.”

  “I’ll figure something out. Maybe Aidan will take him here at Snow Angel Cove. He’s already got a couple of dogs. He probably won’t notice one more.”

  “Or you could keep him, as your friend intended.”

  He made a face. “That’s probably not going to happen. But anyway, back to you. You ran your father’s holdings here. Then what? How did you move from Point A to Point Made Flowers and Gifts?”

  He was very quick to change the subject when it touched on uncomfortable topics he didn’t want to discuss. She thought about pressing him, then decided this was another area that wasn’t her business.

  “After my father died, Devin and Adele and I decided to sell everything. I used my share of the inheritance to buy my store—which is everything I could have dreamed and more.”

  “Sounds like you’ve figured things out.”

  She frowned as he poked a spot she never realized was tender. “For me, yes. I’m no COO of a Fortune 500 company. I run a small floral and gift shop in a tiny struggling town in Idaho. It might not be much, but I’ve worked hard to make it a success and I couldn’t be happier.”

  She regretted her testy tone as soon as she heard it out loud.

  “I have nothing but admiration for anyone who finds something she truly loves.”

  “I suppose I can be a little touchy. Sometimes I wonder if I should be doing more with my MBA, but I truly do love living here. When I try to imagine myself doing something else, leaving Haven Point, the picture just won’t jell, you know?”

  “I get it,” he answered.

  He sounded sincere and genuinely interested in the choices she had made that led her here.

  It made it difficult to blow on the embers of her anger at him. She was finding it increasingly tough to remember her objective when the two of them were alone on a lovely summer evening with flames dancing in the gas fire pit and stars spreading out above them in a bright spangle.

  She was supposed to be convincing him of the wisdom of moving the new Caine Tech facility to Haven Point. This would probably be a good place for her to talk about how great the town was—about the decent, hardworking people who lived here, who only wanted opportunities to keep their children from moving away.

  No. She wouldn’t push the matter tonight. No sense belaboring the point and stirring up possible conflict between them.

  The impulsive decision had nothing to do with those butterflies or the warm light in his eyes or the lovely evening with its sweetly scented breeze.

  That’s what she told herself, anyway.

  Though she was tempted to sit out here with him in this quiet peace for two or three more hours, she didn’t think that would be very wise, either.

  “I should probably go. I’ve got an early-morning meeting with the police chief.”

  She was flattered to see what looked like disappointment flash in his gaze—though, again, that might have been the result of an extremely overactive imagination.

  “Of course.”

  She stood up and started to clear away dishes but Ben held out a hand.

  “Don’t worry about things here. I can take care of the cleanup.”

  “And I can help,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone that discouraged arguments.

  She picked up as many dishes as she could carry and headed into the house. The kitchen was small but modern, with gleaming granite countertops and stainless appliances—much nicer than her own.

  She rinsed her plate. “Clean or dirty?” she asked, gesturing to the dishwasher.

  “Dirty. But, again, I can load them. You’re a guest.”

  She simply smiled and set them in along with a few other plates and a couple of cereal bowls. “I don’t mind helping,” she answered.

  “I get the feeling you’re someone who likes to be in charge.”

  “Sometimes,” she admitted.

  Okay, most of the time. She had become used to taking care of herself from an early age. Her mother had been sick for two years before she died, so McKenzie had been forced to step up.

  After she came here, her father had done his best to reinforce that she didn’t need to work for her room and board. Despite his best efforts, McKenzie had always felt the need to please both him and Adele and was always taking on tasks without being asked.

  “Is that a problem for you?” she asked Ben now. “Most men are a little threatened by a strong woman.”

  “Only weak men are threatened by strong women. Lucky for me, I’m not a weak man.”

  He was standing very close, she suddenly realized, so close, she could smell that delicious soap again, the clean, masculine scent of him. Something flared in his gaze, something that left her suddenly breathless, dizzy.

  She opened her mouth to draw a breath and saw his gaze land there, almost as if he wanted to kiss her.

  He didn’t edge forward but she sensed his muscles gathering to do it. Before he could pass that point of no return, she edged away, toward the door.

  So much for all her talk about being a strong woman. If she were truly as strong and sure of herself as she liked to think, she would be making out with Ben Kilpatrick right now.

  She was fiercely attracted to him and was beginning to think—amazing as it seemed—that he just might be feeling the same. She wouldn’t do anything about it, however. The situation between them was complicated enough without throwing that into the mix.

  She swallowed hard and forced a casual smile that made her feel as if her face was going to crack into fake little pieces. “Thanks for dinner. Next time, my treat.”

  He watched her, his eyes unreadable. “I’ll look forward to it,” he murmured.

  The butterflies inside her seemed to go into hyperdrive. “I’ll see you later, t
hen. Good night.”

  She gave him another of those quick, fake smiles and hurried outside.

  “Come on, Rika. Time to go home.”

  The dog whined a little but in the end, she brushed noses with Hondo, lumbered to her feet and followed McKenzie as she hurried across the lawn to the safe solitude of her house.

  * * *

  WHAT JUST HAPPENED HERE?

  Had he really come a heartbeat away from almost kissing the stubborn, frustrating, beautiful mayor of Haven Point?

  Ben stood in the kitchen of the rental house, trying to figure out if he was more astonished at himself for nearly kissing her or more disappointed that she had pulled away before he could follow through.

  McKenzie Shaw was a lovely woman. She was also completely unavailable to him—so unavailable, in fact, that he couldn’t believe he had entertained the impulse to kiss her for even an instant, no matter how softly romantic the evening had been.

  He had a feeling McKenzie was the sort of woman who wouldn’t be happy with a quick affair, no matter what sort of currents zipped between them, and that’s all he wanted.

  He enjoyed short-term, casual relationships with women who expected very little from him. He had always told himself he wasn’t interested in anything more—especially not terrifying words like marriage and family.

  His home life as a kid had been an exercise in misery—dysfunctional didn’t begin to cover it—and his job had always been where he felt confident, comfortable. Safe.

  Even as he thought it, his mind traveled toward Aidan and Eliza, seeing the two of them draw closer together these past several months.

  Lately, he found himself watching his best friend with the woman he had fallen for and her little girl. Aidan had become a different person, more relaxed, more lighthearted.

  They were like two lost, wandering souls who had finally found their way to each other.

  While he might envy Aidan a little for the peace he had found with Eliza, Ben had no intention of following the path the two of them had laid out.

  He was perfectly happy with his life the way things were.

 

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