by Violet Duke
There was that look again. Like she was expecting him to suddenly sprout a second or third head.
“Thanks for coming to my rescue back there. I really appreciate it. But really, you don’t have to do this knight in shining armor thing. I’m good.”
He could see that. There wasn’t a single thing about her that cried out ‘damsel in distress,’ even given what could’ve happened to her back there. She wasn’t a leaf shaking in the wind over it, and it wasn’t because she was just made of tougher stuff either; he could see the weary, still-simmering terror in her eyes. She wasn’t over the situation by a longshot—she just appeared…acceptant of it. Simple as that.
And that intrigued him as much as it rankled. He remembered how devastated she’d looked at the wedding when she’d told him how she lost her sister to Huntington’s. He knew that devastation, knew exactly what that kind of loss did to a person. Simple acceptance was the last thing he’d expect from her.
The one thing he’d yet to be able to achieve himself.
“Why didn’t you scream?”
“What?” She looked up in surprise.
“When you fell, and when you saw the javelina—you didn’t scream. Not even a little. Why not?” He had to know.
She blinked as if the question, and the reason, had never occurred to her. Her shoulder lifted and fell in a no-nonsense shrug as she said simply, “I didn’t think anyone would come.”
When she reached down to brush the blood off her legs while smothering a pained wince as she pulled a set of keys out of her pocket, he reached for her again, not wanting her to go with an intensity that stunned him.
“Turn around,” he tried gentling his voice. “Let me check out your legs.”
Smooth, Sullivan. Real smooth.
At least that made her stop backing away from him. Of course now she was just staring at him like he was nuts. “Let me check out your injuries,” he amended. “I have a first aid kit in my car.”
“Oh. That’s okay, so do I.” She was back to cutting quickly across the lawn. Three more stealthy steps back. “I have a whole survival kit in there, in fact,” she continued on a cute ramble, “complete with food for a week, extra changes of clothes, and a small generator. I even have a sam splint and one of those foldable pocket walking canes in case I break a leg or something.”
Well that was…unexpected. Brian wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Are you some sort of apocalypse radical or just on the lam from the authorities?”
Yeah…he should’ve kept his mouth shut. The woman rattled him, infected him with that talking out of his ass virus he hadn’t had since he was a teen.
But for some reason, the asinine comment succeeded in making her stop retreating. And laugh.
That laugh.
It was like hearing a Christmas carol on the hottest day of summer.
“I almost forgot how much I like you, Brian.”
Likewise.
“Listen, thanks again for saving me, but I really do have to run. I’ll ask Connor for your number and take you out for coffee sometime. Or pie!” She grinned. “Pie is better as a thank-you.”
Then she turned and ran off to the parking lot, leaving Brian to stand there and simply stare at her long ponytail windmilling around with every buoyant step she took.
The fact that she stopped suddenly and spun around at the edge of the lot to give him a final smiling wave had him completely off-kilter. She was freakin’ adorable as hell.
And absolutely, positively the last woman on earth he pictured himself being this drawn in by.
CHAPTER TWO
BRIAN GRABBED a bag of tortilla chips from the pantry and checked Connor’s fridge for some fresh guacamole. He knew Abby had a big presentation this week with the intertribal education board members on her most recent research recommendations so he knew she had to have made a vat of guac to munch on while she prepared.
Jackpot. He swiped the familiar glass tupperware off the top shelf and dug in.
“Don’t you have food at your own house?” complained Connor as he entered the kitchen.
“Not since you went and married my best friend,” complained Brian right back. He sighed in mock melancholy. “Abby’s guac used to be in my fridge every week. Not to mention the homemade cookies and all the great sandwiches she’d make for me to take for lunch.” At the fond reminders, his next sigh was less feigned. And utterly silent. While he was thrilled to have Abby as a sister-in-law now, he missed how close they used to be.
Not that he ever mentioned that fact to Connor or Abby. Even though he really was truly over his non-platonic feelings for her, any and all conversations on the topic generally ended up being pretty awkward for all involved so he avoided it altogether.
“Nice of you to say hi before you raided my kitchen by the way.” Connor checked the time. “Tell me you haven’t been here since school let out.”
Brian saluted him with a loaded chip as a non-apologetic hello. “I just got here. Today’s faculty meeting was short. And since it’s my turn to take Skylar and Becky out for Friday night dinner, I’m just killing time until they’re done with musical theatre club rehearsals.” He looked around for the remote. Connor had a way better satellite sports channel package than he did. “I didn’t even know you were home. Where’s your car?”
“Abby took the Lexus to work since her car is in the shop again. I came home to get my tux and Abby’s dress for tonight. We’ve got another fundraising benefit to go to.”
“And you’re not concocting some excuse to get out of it?” Weird. Connor usually hated going to those functions.
“This isn’t for work; it’s for one of the charities Tessa and I have been helping out.”
At the mere mention of Tessa’s name, Brian’s hunt for the remote was instantly forgotten. Carefully keeping his voice neutral, he launched a very casual interrogation. “Tessa…that’s your caterer friend right? The one with the pink striped hair? What’s the deal with her? Why’d you end up picking a cook to help you with all your pro bono grant write-ups?”
“Because she’s damn good at it. Besides, the catering thing is just a part-time gig for Tessa and Lana. Lana started the catering company and asked Tessa to partner in because of all her dessert-making experience—once upon a time, Tessa worked at a bakery for over five years, I think. But just like Lana, Abby also has a day job; she’s the chief editor of the two sister magazines AZ Hotspots and AZ Potluck.”
Brian was impressed. He knew of both those local magazines; the seasonal travel magazine was his standard reading material of choice in every doctor’s waiting room he’s sat in for the past few years, and he knew for a fact that the online cooking magazine was a huge hit with his colleagues at school. This Tessa was just full of surprises.
Feeling Connor quietly studying him, Brian looked up. “What?”
“You’re in to her, aren’t you?”
“Who? The odd, opinionated woman who thought it was a good idea to have my daughter hack away at some fruits with a gigantic cooking knife at your wedding reception as a means to get her over her fear of knives? Fully aware that I’d bust a nut if I found out about it?”
Connor arched a knowing eyebrow.
Brian grunted and turned to grab a soda from the fridge. “Yeah. A little bit.”
HE WAS STILL THINKING about that ‘little bit’ the next day on his Saturday morning run. With Beth having been his high school sweetheart and Abby being the only other woman he’d been in love with, Brian had a sorely limited dating experience database to draw on as he analyzed the matter.
“Maybe Connor had the right idea all along,” he muttered to himself as he hit the two mile mark and turned around to head back. He’d dogged Connor constantly about being a man whore with his one-month fling rule but look how it ended up. He got the girl, and he’d never lacked for female company all the way up until then.
Visions of Tessa began swimming around in his head then—images of that stubborn frown of hers that
seemed to come as a combo pack with her dancing, dark-as-night eyes. The flash of vulnerability he’d seen cross her face when he’d tried to take care of the cuts on her leg the other day. And that killer smile.
No.
A girl like that wouldn’t be into casual flings. For all he knew, she already had someone she went home to every night.
Hitting the last mile mark, he pounded down harder on the pavement at a near sprint back to his house. Mostly to stamp out the feelings of jealousy crawling up his spine.
He had to stop thinking about the woman.
Yanking the iPod velcro strap of his bicep as he toed his sneakers off, he called out to see if Skylar was awake yet.
Silence.
Not surprising. The kid had spent most of the night on the phone with her BFF-since-daycare. And this was after he’d taken the girls out for pizza and ice cream. Seriously, the two were inseparable all week in school and every weekend at each other’s homes on alternating sleepovers…how on earth they still had things left to talk about on the phone was beyond him.
He grabbed a quick shower and set out with grand plans for cooking up a big breakfast instead of his usual cereal and sliced fruit specialty. He rocked that culinary masterpiece something fierce. Lately, however, Skylar seemed to be getting a little fancy in her taste palate. Probably from watching all those food cooking shows she seemed to be into now.
As he passed Skylar’s still-closed door, he heard her talking quietly on the other side.
Geez, how much could two thirteen-year olds possibly have to discuss?
But then he heard something that made him stop in his tracks.
That laugh.
Every single time he heard it, he was reminded of how long it’s been since he’d laughed like that. As if the universe wasn’t at times cruel and unyielding. As if the heart didn’t have limits to how much pain and disappointment it could take.
Then the next words he heard had him flipping his lid and grabbing for her door knob.
“Have you checked out those websites I told you about for the HD gene testing—”
“Skylar,” he thundered, using his break-only-in-case-of-emergency voice to breach her privacy without knocking first. “What’s going on in here?” His gaze sliced over to Skylar’s computer and the woman staring at him from the Skype screen. Tessa. When her face lit up just the tiniest bit for a split-second before quickly shifting to a calm, diplomatic smile—as if she hadn’t just been advising his daughter on a life-changing gene test…while looking as distractingly soft and sweet as ever—he felt his blood pressure shoot through the roof in two different directions.
“Hi dad,” hazarded Skylar carefully. “You remember Tessa, right? Uncle Connor’s friend from the wedding?”
Jaw locked, he merely nodded, keeping his eyes trained on Tessa.
Who took that moment to wave at him.
Good lord, the woman knew how to push his buttons without even trying. “Skylar, since when do you skype your uncle’s friends about your private health matters?”
...Matters that we’d already decided against.
“Dad, she knows so much about this stuff. I was just asking her some questions.”
“Questions that should come straight to me or your doctor, or even your therapist.” He shot a pointed look at the screen. “Not to random adults you’ve only just met a few months ago.”
“Actually, we’ve talked a bunch of times since then over at Uncle Connor’s house—”
“Skylar,” Tessa broke in, “I think it might be a good idea for me to log off now because frankly, I’m a little worried my staying online is going to give your dad an ulcer.” She turned back to stare him straight in the eye then, locking horns with him as she added, “But feel free to skype me again anytime. You can ask me anything you want about the HD testing.”
Brian bristled. Clearly, the woman wasn’t that concerned about his stomach lining.
The screen blipped out to black and he swung his gaze back over to his daughter.
He didn’t even know where to begin.
Thankfully, the faint chirping of Skylar’s cell phone gave him a brief moment to put a lid on his temper and gather his thoughts. After all, it wasn’t Skylar he was pissed at.
“It’s Tessa.”
Exactly.
No wait, what? He looked up and saw Skylar waving her phone at him. “It’s a text from Tessa. She wrote, ‘TELL YOUR DAD I’D LIKE HIM TO MEET ME FOR LUNCH OR DINNER ONE OF THESE DAYS SO WE CAN DISCUSS THIS. ANYWHERE HE WANTS, ANYTIME. HIS CHOICE.’” Skylar shrugged and gave him a wide take-it-up-with-management smile.
Another chirp.
“Um…”
“What does it say?” he barked.
“She texted, and I’m totally quoting her here, ‘FIGURED THIS WAY HE CAN’T SAY NO.’ End quote.” Her teeth flashed again as she gave him an innocent look. “That text was probably just for me.”
Great, now Skylar was looking thoroughly entertained by the situation.
Another innocuous double blink. “Why don’t you meet Tessa tonight? I’ll be leaving for Becky’s right after lunch and won’t be back until late tomorrow.”
He knew she offered the oh-so-helpful comment just to keep him from being a hermit all weekend, but his now unruly imagination was having a field day with the suggestion.
“Fine,” he ground out. “She and I may as well hash this out as soon as possible.” Uh-huh, whatever you need to tell yourself, buddy. “Tell her dinner, 6:30 at the Italian restaurant the block over from her street.”
With a slow smile, Skylar tilted her head over to a do-tell angle. “How do you know what street Tessa lives on?”
Dammit. Busted. “Your uncle mentioned it. Just text her back will you?”
She bit her lip to hide her grin when the chirping reply came back moments later.
He waited, not at all patiently.
“Errr…she wrote back, ‘I PROBABLY WON’T BE HUNGRY THAT EARLY BUT THEY HAVE A GREAT HAPPY HOUR SO TELL HIM TO GO FOR IT. I’LL BE THERE AT SEVEN. BYE!’ Then a smiley face.”
Of all the aggravating… “Why’d she even ask me to pick a time then? And does she honestly expect me to get there a half hour before she does?”
Actually…he wouldn’t put it past her.
So. Unbelievably. Weird.
He didn’t want to even think about what his reluctantly growing fascination over her little quirks said about him.
“Wow, she really gets your fish frying doesn’t she?” remarked Skylar, using one of Abby’s trademark sayings with a touch of awe.
A harmless observation, with a little too much female insight for his comfort level.
“Cereal and fruits in five minutes,” he muttered and stalked out of her room.
When he heard another chirp followed by a smothered giggle, he just kept right on walking.
It was undoubtedly safer that way.
TESSA PACED around her living room as the ticking clock on her wall got closer and closer to her scheduled “discussion dinner” with Brian. She wasn’t calling it a date; her nerves would never survive the night if she did.
She hadn’t been able to stop replaying the way he’d called out her name down in the ravine. The man was just so distractingly brawny. Bearlike. But gentle. She’d counted three instances when his protective instincts had overruled all else that day, and his voice had dropped down to this rough, untamed rasp that had her wanting to jump on him and bury her face against his throat so she could drink in all that ruggedness.
A dizzying wave of heat washed over her at the memory.
Geez, she needed to get a grip.
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. When her clock his 5:30, she grabbed her car keys and headed out the door.
She pulled in to the lumber yard just as the sales office was closing.
“Hey, Frank!” she called out, waving her goodbyes to the workers who were calling it a day.
Frank’s bushy white eyebrows hopped up with delight
. “Hey dollface, what’s shakin’?”
“Nothing much. Just thought I’d stop by and drop off your favorite.”
“Hot damn, I was hoping you’d come visit this week. Jackie’s been on a steamed fish kick this month.” He rolled his eyes. “Lucky thing she loves you because these hotdog runs are the only times she lets me cheat.”
Tessa covered up her grin. If only he knew that the ‘hotdog’ that he loved so much was really a specialty dog from her favorite hotdog joint, made with lean ground meat, fennel, and a mix of ground eggplant and mushrooms. The only other one in on the secret was Frank’s wife, who purposely never let him go to the hotdog restaurant in question so he’d never know that his one indulgence was actually not all that bad for him.
Frank quickly unwrapped the hotdog, loaded with all the fixings, and took a huge bite. “Lord, that’s good.”
Smiling, she took her matching order and headed out the back door.
“Sweets, be sure to keep to the cedar stacks; Hank stacked those. We had the new kid working the forklift today.” He shook his head tiredly. “Lord have mercy. Boy was cockeyed as they come. Took him all day and the wood still wasn’t lined up straight. Wouldn’t trust any of those stacks to climb on.”
“Got it. Thanks, Frank!” The cedar planks were her favorites anyway, which she suspected was why he always had Hank stack those. “I’ll be down before you leave.”
As she crossed the gigantic lumber yard, Tessa stuffed the hotdog bag into her new slouch bag—the old one was still in the accessory ICU after her fall the other day—and climbed her way up to the top of the tallest cedar stack and turned in a slow 360 to gaze at the landscape all around before settling down in the middle, facing West to watch the sun set.
While most folks she knew loved their tropical paradises or snowy retreats, Tessa had always thought the rough beauty of Arizona at sunset trumped them all. The entire desert canvas painted with the rich, earthy colors that never failed to ground her, and clear skies blasted with vibrant colors that spun around the color wheel...it was a feast for her eyes to see everything around her become so primitively alive, before drifting off to sleep for the night. The desert just had a rough sort of beauty that had always spoken to her, healed her just as it rejuvenated her in even her toughest times.