by Robyn Grady
He hadn’t set out for this to happen, but truth was he wanted to kiss Shelby. Hell, he wanted to pull her clothes off and make wild crazy love to her till dawn. She was bright and funny and her smile made him want to do cartwheels. And she could cook. Boy, could she cook. Why in the name of everything sacred wouldn’t he be attracted to her?
But she’d just poured a bucket of cold milk on his lap.
He was out of line. She was his employee. He wouldn’t dream of seducing his female assistants or support staff at the studio. He was a healthy, inquisitive, high-functioning male but there were boundaries and he’d overstepped this one.
She’d made an even bigger point. Repositioned thousands of miles from home, Tate had recently survived an abduction attempt. His older brother should never put him in a position of possibly witnessing anything he might find confusing, upsetting.
Dex held his frown.
What was I thinking?
“You’re right,” he told her. About everything. He pushed to his feet. “I’m going to stand under a cold shower for ten minutes then I’m going to bed.” By himself. “And don’t worry. You have my word. While you’re here, I swear I won’t touch you again.”
Six
Two days later, the four of them did Disneyland. The rides, the food, the sore feet—although, unlike the adults who were feeling it by the afternoon, Tate ran on high the entire time. Dex had never seen his little brother look so jazzed. Watching him jump around, his eyes so big with awe, had Dex thinking again about an inevitable stage in his life.
Kids of his own.
But he was still young. Only thirty. There was plenty of time to worry about being pinned down with those kinds of responsibilities…even if they turned out to be as adorable as this little guy, who didn’t appear to have a care in the world.
Then disaster struck.
“You’re leaving me, Tea?” Tate asked over the screams echoing from the scariest roller coaster of all-time.
“We told you, hon. I can’t stay forever.” In her name-brand sneakers and bike-shorts, Teagan hunkered down to speak with him eye to eye.
She’d received a call on her cell and Tate had overheard the result. Now Teagan held her brother’s small arms while Dex stood by, suddenly over his cream-cheese pretzel.
“We can talk about it later,” Teagan said.
“Later,” Tate told her, “you’ll be gone.”
In Sydney, Cole spent time with Tate when he could, but Tate’s other siblings weren’t available to him on a regular basis. These past days, however, Tate had seen a lot of Teagan. At twenty-six, she could have been his mom, and she was hands-on. Eloise Hunter, on the other hand, left Tate’s day-to-day needs to others. No matter how resilient the little boy was, wanting to keep Teagan close if he could was only natural, even with Shelby on standby, eager to tag team.
“Sweetheart, I have clients waiting for me home in Seattle,” Teagan said, trying not to look guilt ridden, which she clearly was.
“I don’t want you to go.”
“What say, when you’re finished visiting Dex, you come stay with me for a while? A friend has a boy your age. She runs the day-care center at my gym.”
The corners of Tate’s mouth flickered with a smile. “Can I come now?”
“I have to be somewhere tomorrow night,” Teagan explained. “An important person asked me ages ago. It’d be rude to back out now.”
Tears filled Tate’s eyes.
While Dex was a nanosecond from sweeping the kid up and concocting some way they could hang out together here in Disneyland for a week, Teagan buckled.
“I’ll skip tomorrow night,” she said, “and stay here another couple days—” she glanced over “—if Dex and Shelby don’t mind.”
Dex shrugged. “Stay as long as you want.”
But beneath the stoic face, Teagan was uncomfortable about missing her date. Was the important person a boyfriend? She hadn’t mentioned anyone special. Could be a friend. Or a business arrangement. Yesterday, she’d let slip her health and fitness company had seen some recent problems. Maybe she’d put out feelers for a partner…someone to share the workload, responsibilities and expense.
“No, Tea.” Being brave, Tate blinked back unshed tears. “You go.”
“Nah.” Teagan dusted off her little brother’s shoulders. “It’s just a dumb old game anyway.”
“A baseball game?” Tate asked, and she nodded. “The Mariders? They’re from Seattle,” he said.
“You like the Mariners, Tate?” Dex asked.
“Me and Cole—they’re our team. He likes ’em coz of the compass. I like the moose. He rides a yellow mower. We watched a game before I left.” Tate tilted his head at an angle. “Cole’s going on a trip with a lady. She said next time maybe I can come.”
Dex’s heart dropped. Poor kid. Must seem as if every other person wanted to bail on him. Lord, he wished life was simpler. Nothing he could do there. He could, at least, divert the conversation.
“Who wants a cheeseburger?” Dex said, tossing his pretzel in a trash can.
“I have another idea,” Teagan said.
Dex zipped his lip. He’d seen that look before—the one his sister got whenever she made a decision that no one on God’s green earth could change.
“What if we try to get another ticket to that game?” Teagan asked Tate. “Until I make a call, I can’t promise, though. They’re special tickets.” She reached for Dex’s hand and squeezed. “Mind if I keep him a week?”
“Of course I don’t mind.”
He only wanted the little guy happy, safe and well fed. Although living with Teagan, Tate might need to suck it up and survive on soy burgers for a while.
Tate put his arms out for a hug. When Dex lifted him up, a soft voice whispered at his ear, “Love you, Dex.”
“Love you, too, buddy.”
In movies, kids and dogs never failed to touch hearts. In real life, the tugs were even stronger. Dex drew away before his throat thickened more.
“Just try not to overdose on tofu. Your sister’s sweet and all, but she has some gross eating habits.”
“Promise.” Tate’s smile was back. “Can I go on one more ride?”
“Let’s get a shot of you all together first.” Shelby’s eyes were glistening as she looked on and whipped out her cell. “I’ll get one of you two first.”
She snapped the boys, then all the Hunter “kids,” followed by one of Tate alone with his sister. Then Teagan took the phone.
“You two,” she said, addressing Dex and Shelby. “Arms around each other, please.”
Since their secret, all-too-brief encounter, Dex had been on his best behavior, which had taken more than a dash of willpower. While normal male urges suggested he do precisely what Teagan suggested now and hold Shelby close, he forced himself to wait until she capitulated and came to stand beside him, her smile uncertain and eyes round, as if she were afraid someone might read their thoughts and learn about their clandestine kiss.
But Teagan knew nothing about that brush of lips, or that he daydreamed about kissing Shelby again, only this time in earnest.
He and Shelby smiled, Teagan clicked and Dex exhaled. As Shelby might say, done and finished. Until…
He made the mistake of turning to Shelby at the same instant she looked at him. Their gazes fused and “say cheese” smiles faded as a visceral awareness swelled between them just as it had that night on the couch. Only the tug now was stronger, the pitch even higher. The bustle around them faded and all he could think about was the moment his mouth had grazed hers and, for a beat in time, she had kissed him back.
Then a noise broke through the fog and, coming back, Dex looked around. Tate was making whooping sounds. He flipped a killer cartwheel and leaped up and down on the spot. To top it off,
he spun around to shake his tail feathers.
What a performance! Everyone, including passersby, stopped to applaud and laugh. Holding her stomach, Shelby collapsed against Dex. In stitches, he lashed a bracing arm around her waist while Teagan’s face and sides split, too.
Dex got it together enough to ask, “What’s that all about? You auditioning for Mickey?”
“I knew you two liked each other,” Tate cried out. “I knew it! You were gonna kiss Shelby and she was gonna kiss you back.” Tate slapped both palms against his mouth then threw a giant air-kiss—and matching smacking sound—out for them both to catch.
While Shelby sobered, shaking her head as if she hadn’t a clue what Tate was on about, Dex took a moment.
Tate was bright but he was five years old, for Pete’s sake. If he could see how deeply Shelby affected him, things were bad. Or were they good? Because tomorrow, Tate—everyone’s priority and main reason they had held off—was leaving for Seattle.
He and Shelby would be alone again.
* * *
“While Tate’s away,” Shelby said, “I’ll bunk down at my place.”
It was the day after Disneyland. Dex had just walked in the door, back from having driven his sister and little brother to the airport to catch their flight to Seattle. Now, standing in the center of the suite, a packed bag at her feet, Shelby felt strong—and justified—after voicing her decision.
Dex blindly set his key card on a credenza. “Tate’ll be back in no time. You’ve already moved your stuff here.”
“One bag. I kept my place for just this kind of situation.”
“The kind of situation that puts us together alone?”
Shelby’s breath caught. But if he could be blunt, so could she.
“You hired me to look after a child. Now, with Tate away, I’m not sure what I’m doing here.”
He sauntered over. “And the rest?”
She lifted her chin. “And I know what you’re planning. You promised to forget what happened between us the other night.”
“I did promise, didn’t I.”
His words…the confident, almost predatory gleam in his eye…
She clasped her hands at her waist. “But with Tate gone and us here by ourselves…” As he strolled closer, those big shoulders rolling, she backed up. “You’re planning to kiss me again. And…well…” Be blunt. “I’m afraid I might kiss you back.”
If that happened, and things got out of hand, then turned irretrievably sour, she’d have no one to blame but herself.
That night when their lips had brushed, time had wound down, hormones had sat up and, for that moment, the urge to surrender it all had been hypnotic. They’d barely kissed and yet never in her life had she felt that level of raw sexual need. She’d been gripped so fast, so tight, and her reaction afterward had been just as fierce.
Perhaps the intensity was psychological more than physical…some kind of projection to help her cope with that other situation back in Mountain Ridge. Except, from the start, she’d known she was attracted to Dex. It turned out that the attraction was way more than she’d bargained for.
Reaching down, she swept the bag off the floor. “I don’t want to complicate things.”
As he came to stand before her, those wonderful, frightening feelings sparked again. Suddenly her breasts felt heavy; her brain began to buzz. But this was not what she’d signed on for, no matter how sexy, charming and convincing Dex Hunter might be.
When his fresh male scent slipped into her lungs, she held her breath and skirted around him. At the front door, she made herself crystal clear.
“When Tate comes back, so will I.”
Leaning back against the sofa, he crossed his arms and ankles. Relaxed. In control. Insufferable and irresistible.
“What if you don’t come back?” he asked.
“We have a contract.”
“As if I’d sue if you break it.”
“I don’t work that way.”
“Always by the book, huh?”
“That’s right.” She was honest. Sometimes too honest.
“And if I promise not to take advantage of the situation?”
But that would mean that she’d need to promise, too, and with this drugging heat sluicing over her skin and ticking inside of her, she simply couldn’t. His tousled hair, crooked grin, the width of his chest beneath that sexy lilac button-down… Feeling the way she did now, merely looking at Dex was almost enough to undo her.
He’d asked would she stay if he promised to be good.
“Like I said…” She opened the door. “Too complicated.”
He pushed off the sofa and ambled toward her.
“I have to admire your ethics. Perhaps I should take a page from your Abstinence Is Best policy.”
That raised her hackles. Did she look like a virgin? Not that there was anything wrong with being chaste. “I have had sex before.”
He rubbed the back of his neck as if he were suddenly overly warm. “I wish you wouldn’t use that kind of language in front of me.”
“Fine.” Bag in hand, she stepped into the hallway. “While you drive me home, I won’t talk dirty.”
She was teasing. And she shouldn’t. Because Dex didn’t smile. In fact, his pupils had grown so that the tawny irises were almost consumed by the black. Actually he looked consumed. If he gathered her close now—if he stole a scorching kiss—would she find the strength to push him away? Principled or not, when his lips met hers, values got a little hazy.
When he crossed to the living room extension and called the valet service, she released her breath. They drove to her address in relative silence. He saw her to the building’s security door.
“You have a key card to my suite if you need it,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You’ll find wages in your account.”
“I haven’t earned them.”
“Contract states wages will be deposited weekly for the next six months, no matter what. And don’t forget, you’re on call.”
When Tate got back.
“And don’t you forget to eat your veggies,” she chided. “Remember what I told Tate. They’re good for you.”
His grin grew as he shook his head and walked away. But he made sure she was through the security door and inside before he swung in behind the steering wheel and drove off.
Everything in the apartment was as she’d left it. Same cheap cotton sofa and vinyl recliner. Same Formica kitchen countertops and wooden table with someone’s initials, BL, carved into one corner. In the bedroom, she winced at the dragging curtains. Hanging out in a Beverly Hills suite could spoil a girl fast.
She set the bag on the faded quilt, but paused before setting down her tote. Finally she opened the inside zipper and drew out the photo she’d almost lost the other day. Tracing a finger over those innocent smiles, she let a slipstream of memories take her back to a time when life had seemed so simple. When her mother was alive. When she believed in dreams and princes who rode white chargers.
The two girls in the photo weren’t friends anymore. Never would be again. But that didn’t erase their history. This photo had lived on her dresser for over a decade. And its twin?
Surely her onetime friend would have dumped it. She’d at least need to keep it out of sight. Reese wouldn’t want Kurt to see, or for either of them to be reminded.
Was Reese ashamed of what she’d done? If roles had been reversed, Shelby wouldn’t have been able to live with herself. She wouldn’t have done it at all.
When her nose began to prickle, Shelby set the photo on the dresser and siphoned in a fortifying breath.
She ought to go shopping, fill the fridge. But, while she didn’t feel much like staying in, she felt less inclined to go out. In the living room, she flicked on the televisio
n, flipped through some channels. A classic was showing. A romance.
The couple had fallen in love on a cruise. But their lives were complicated with other love interests. They vowed, if those complications got sorted out, they would meet again in a year’s time. Riveted, Shelby curled up on the sofa and watched to the end. So sad, so beautiful. Of course, it made her cry. The hero had loved the heroine and nothing and no one could keep him from being with her.
As credits rolled, Shelby dabbed a tear with her sleeve and blinked around the room. For a minute, she’d forgotten. She was here in this drab apartment because she needed to preserve her and Dex’s professional relationship in order to safeguard Tate’s best interests. Except that Tate was with Teagan. Reese was with Kurt. And she was stuck here.
Principled and alone.
Seven
Home from work two days later, the minute Dex opened the suite door, he knew he had company.
As he entered the living room, he spotted that unmistakable tote and a big smile came over his face. Shelby was back and something delicious was sizzling on the grill. Thank God he hadn’t dropped into a local haunt to chow down. Shelby’s cooking topped near anything he’d tasted.
Whistling, filtering out from the kitchen, grew louder until she appeared, heading toward the polished dining table. In one hand, she carried cutlery, in the other, linen napkins. When she saw him, she stopped short before a grin kicked up one side of her beautiful mouth.
“I didn’t know when to expect you,” she said.
“I smell steak.”
“Thick cut with mushroom gravy.”
“Some people don’t like mushrooms. I happen to love them. I have the perfect wine accompaniment.” He moved toward the bar. “You do drink wine, don’t you?”
“Sure. A little.”
After washing his hands in the sink behind the bar, he uncorked a good red and brought the wine and two glasses to the table. Shelby was returning with plates covered with Texas-size steaks. Bowls of salad and creamy mashed potatoes already waited on the table. With his mouth watering—over the meal and also the cute tangerine-colored dress she wore—he pulled out her chair for her to sit.