Kissing Mr. Right

by Michelle Major

  Libby’s tone was sweet as honey when she answered, “Kendall is a guest in our home, Clare. She was being polite.” She disappeared into the hallway.

  Kendall’s gaze shifted to Clare. “It’s really lovely.”

  Ty reached out to touch his sister’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

  She rounded on him, her voice rough with emotion. “Get real. I’m just the appetizer. They’ll serve you up as the main course and in front of your fancy girlfriend, too. You’ve always been a glutton for punishment, Ty. He ruined you and now you’re back to play nice. You should have stayed away when you had the chance.”

  Kendall stepped forward. “Ruined him?”

  “It’s nothing,” Ty said. “Would you like a tour—”

  “Wait.” Clare poked him hard in the chest. “You haven’t told her? You brought her to dinner and she doesn’t know about you and Dad?”

  He wasn’t sure whether to smile or shake his head when Kendall stepped between the two of them like she was protecting him from his crazy sister. But Clare was right, he was the crazy one for allowing his parents access to Kendall.

  His sister’s hand dropped as Kendall spoke. “Ty wanted me to meet your father because his company is mentioned in a story we’re working on about rebuilding the Silver Creek community.”

  “Don’t start this shit again,” Charlie said from the couch, his knuckles white as he squeezed the highball glass.

  “I’m not starting anything,” Ty muttered. “I promise.”

  “But you’re working on a story that involves one of GoldStar’s development deals?” Clare’s voice was incredulous.

  “No.”

  Kendall frowned.

  “I mean yes.” He scrubbed a hand along his jaw. “But my only part in the story is as an expert on the restoration efforts.”

  “An expert landscaper?” Clare asked with a snort.

  “There’s more to Ty than that,” Kendall said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  There she went defending him again, even if she didn’t understand the reasons why Clare was going after him so hard.

  With a disapproving look at Ty, Clare whispered, “You don’t know the half of it,” then stalked toward the wet bar built into the family room’s far wall.

  His mother walked back in the room, her fingers tucked into the crook of his father’s arm. His parents only touched each other when there were guests in the house.

  Ty wished he could follow his sister to the bar. Instead he stood with Kendall as his mother introduced her to his dad.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kendall,” his father said, pumping her hand like he was a candidate running for office.

  Kendall smiled. “You have a beautiful home, Mr. Bishop.”

  “Call me Eric. This place holds a lot of memories.”

  Ty heard Clare snicker. Memories of slamming doors and strained silences, he thought. The only room in the house he’d liked as a kid had been the kitchen with Jenny and her mother. There had always been the smell of something freshly baked and laughter and music playing. It was a sharp contrast to the rest of the unnaturally sterile house.

  Kendall gestured to the row of windows. “The grounds are beautiful, as well. Did Ty design the landscaping?”

  Charlie coughed wildly. Libby stiffened.

  Kendall flashed a questioning glance toward Ty.

  “My parents have used the same gardener for years,” he explained. “Not me.”

  She turned to his mother. “Have you driven down to Denver recently? The work Ty did on the Governor’s mansion is amazing.”

  The grim line of his mother’s mouth could barely be described as a smile. “I’m afraid I haven’t been to Denver recently. Eric, would you escort Kendall in to dinner?”

  “I’d love to.” His father set his glass on the mantel. “You must work with Bob Cunningham, Kendall.” He placed a hand at her elbow and guided her from the room. “He and I golfed in a tournament last week.”

  She threw another look at Ty over her shoulder. He smiled reassuringly.

  His mother patted his arm and said, “She seems like a lovely young women, Tyler. It’s about time.” Then she turned and followed her husband.

  “Jesus.” Ty sighed as he crossed the room to the bar. “She’s in rare form.”

  Clare handed him a beer out of the refrigerator tucked under the granite counter. “I think it’s menopause. I’m glad you’re here so she has a new target. My back is bloody enough.”

  Charlie lifted his glass in Ty’s direction. “Brave man, bringing home a girl to meet Mom and Dad.”

  “I’m an idiot,” Ty mumbled.

  “But you’ve got some bowling-ball-sized cojones.” His brother nodded toward the dining room. “Are you going to leave her alone with them?”

  Ty took a long swig of beer. “Better not. Let’s go, you two. The more the merrier.”

  It was a shame that he only felt close to his brother and sister when they were trading digs about their parents. He knew they were still angry with him for defying their father, even after six years. He’d paid dearly for his independence from the family, and he wished Charlie and Clare could recognize that. All they saw was that he’d escaped Eric Bishop’s oppressive control. They couldn’t forgive him for it.

  The dining room looked the same as it had since he was a boy. The walls were papered with an elegant stripe pattern of green and gold that shone in the light filtering from the picture window. The antique mahogany table was set with his mother’s Spode china and Waterford crystal. Fresh flowers sat on the buffet, flanked by ivory candles perched in long silver candleholders.

  Eric Bishop sat at the head of the table, with Libby and Kendall on either side of him. Ty took the seat next to Kendall. As he sat, his mother looked at him and raised her eyebrows. Without thinking, he held out his hands for inspection. “What? They’re clean.”

  Libby rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t you mention that Kendall was from Kansas City?” his mother asked.

  He glanced at Kendall, who gave him a nervous smile. Kendall had responded to his questions about her family with vague, noncommittal answers. He hadn’t pressed for details. His mistake. “My aunt lives in Kansas City,” he said to Kendall, ignoring his mother’s question.

  “Yes, your mom told me.”

  Although her tone was composed, Ty could see Kendall’s fingers working against the linen napkin in her lap. He reached over and placed his hand on top of hers. Her chest rose as she took a deep breath. When she met his gaze, the stark vulnerability in her eyes sliced across his middle. He didn’t know what had her so rattled. He didn’t particularly give a damn. At that moment, all he wanted was to get her out of his parents’ house.

  His mother’s regal tone interrupted his thoughts. “Kendall attended the same academy as your cousins.”

  “That’s nice,” he answered, his gaze still focused on Kendall.

  “Are you sure you didn’t know them?” Libby asked Kendall. “The Truman family. They lived in the Carriage Hill neighborhood, just around the corner from the school. Two boys, one girl.”

  Ty watched the vulnerability vanish from Kendall’s expression as her on-air mask slipped into place. She turned to his mother with a smile. “I’m familiar with the name. But I think the youngest boy was still a few years older than me.”

  His mother nodded her agreement. “That would be true. What did you say your father did, dear?”

  Ty’s hand still held Kendall’s. He felt her fingers tense, though her smile remained in place. “He’s involved in the automobile industry.”

  His mother opened her mouth to reply, but Clare interrupted, “Are you going to grill her all night, Mother, or can we eat?”

  Libby’s lips thinned. “I’m not grilling anyone, Clare. I’m getting to know Tyler’s new friend.”

  Eric pa
tted his wife’s hand. “She’s got a point, sweetheart. We’d better start on this feast before it gets cold.”

  Libby slipped her hand from under Eric’s and fingered the pearls around her neck. “Of course,” she agreed, her voice stiff. “Why don’t you begin?”

  “I’ll do that.” Ty’s father ignored the fact that Libby was royally pissed at having her interrogation of Kendall cut short. “Ty, would you pour the wine?”

  He filled the crystal goblets but ignored his own glass. The last thing he needed was to catch a buzz when facing his parents. Dinner with his family was usually difficult, but today was particularly strange, and he couldn’t figure out what had Kendall so wound up.

  She seemed to relax as the dinner progressed. Eric led the conversation to a variety of safe subjects from the weather to local sports teams. Kendall gamely answered questions about her work, the people she’d met, and stories she’d covered in the course of her career.

  Toward the end of the meal, Ty’s mother leaned across the table and asked, “Tell us, Kendall, how did you and Tyler meet?”

  Kendall smiled sheepishly. “The truth is, I rear-ended one of his landscaping trucks with my Jeep. It was a minor accident. Thankfully, no one was hurt.”

  “That’s awesome.” Charlie howled with laughter and too much booze. “Did he threaten to fake whiplash if you didn’t go out with him?”

  “Real funny, Charlie,” Ty said. “Only a guy as desperate as you would pull a stunt like that.”

  “We got to know each other better when Ty started working on a story with me,” Kendall continued.

  Shit. Ty pushed back from the table. “Uh, Ken, it’s getting late. We should get going.”

  Clare and Charlie concentrated on their plates.

  “What kind of story?” Libby asked. “Tyler, you didn’t tell me you were going to be on the news.”

  “I’m not.” At Kendall’s puzzled look, Ty amended, “It’s not a big deal, just a small piece on landscaping during drought conditions.”

  Kendall’s features scrunched in confusion.

  His mother sighed. “When are you going to quit mucking around in the dirt and do something worthwhile with your degree?”

  Kendall leaned forward. “Actually, Libby, Ty is helping me—”

  Ty yanked Kendall’s chair out from the table, ignoring her yelp of protest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to stand beside him. “I tried doing something worthwhile six years ago, Mother. You remember the results.”

  “Let it go, son,” Eric said in his father-knows-best tone. “It’s water under the bridge at this point.”

  Ty barked out a laugh. “Easy for you to say, Dad. I doubt you’d be so likely to forgive and forget if the tables were turned.”

  “Tyler, we just want what’s best for you,” Libby protested.

  “No, you don’t. You want what’s best for the family and GoldStar. We all know you’ll do anything to get it. Thanks for dinner, Mother. As usual, it’s been quite an experience.”

  Before she had a chance to argue, Ty dragged Kendall from the dining room and through his parents’ house.

  She pulled to a stop halfway down the hall. “I didn’t get a chance to thank your parents.”

  “Send them a note.”

  “Ty, what is going on with you?”

  He started moving again, taking her with him. “I’ve got to get out of this house, that’s what’s going on. I’ve had about as much family bonding as I can take.”

  He threw open the front door and stepped onto the porch. Taking a breath of the clean mountain air, he turned to Kendall. “I’m sorry about today. I shouldn’t have brought you here without telling you how things are with my parents.”

  “Will you explain it to me?”

  “Are you asking as a reporter or my friend?” He looked past her to the perfectly manicured lawn of his childhood home. Damn, he’d gotten himself into a fine mess today.

  “As your friend, Ty. I’d like to understand what happened in there.” She looked like she wanted to press him for more details but squeezed his hand instead. “Are you ok?”

  “I will be when we’re away from here. Give me some time to settle down, then I’ll tell you about my family.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.”

  “And you can tell me about yours,” he added.

  Her mouth thinned, but she nodded.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  He was thankful she didn’t start asking questions again because he wasn’t sure he’d know how to answer. To explain how with one word, one pointed look, his parents could send him over the edge. How the taste of disapproval lingered in his mouth long after he left their house.

  They drove in silence for the ride back to Denver. When they reached the city limits, he glanced over at her. Kendall sat staring out the passenger-side window with her head resting against the seat back. The light from the setting sun glowed against her porcelain skin. He wished this were simpler.

  “Do you have a patio? I need some fresh air after that.”

  She rolled her head along the headrest until she faced him. “A couple of folding chairs on the deck out back.”

  “My house then. Is that ok with you?”

  “Yes.”

  He shifted lanes and took the exit ramp for his part of town. “What are you thinking about?”

  She smiled wistfully. “Family.”

  “Mine or yours?”

  “Both.”

  “I know I owe you an explanation for today.” Ty turned down the alley that ran behind the houses on his block. He pushed a button on his visor and a garage door cranked open next to a tall wooden privacy fence. The truck slid into one side of a two-stall garage.

  “Let’s have a drink first. You look like you could use one. Then we can talk.”

  She opened the door and hopped out before Ty could read her expression. But her tone sounded grave.

  He had a sinking feeling that his relationship with Kendall was ending before it had even gotten started.

  He got out of the truck and climbed the two steps to the door that led to his backyard, absently hitting the wall switch to close the garage door. The soft light of dusk flooded the doorway as Kendall stepped behind him into the yard.

  She gasped and he whirled to face her. “What’s wrong?”

  She continued to stare past him into his backyard. He followed her gaze and couldn’t hide his smile. “The yard, right? It’s kind of unexpected when you first see it.”

  She shifted her gaze to him, her lips shaped in a small O. Damn, her mouth was sweet. She looked back and forth between him and the yard and then said quietly, “I’ve never seen anything like it. How long did it take?”

  He dug his hands into the pockets of his pants and rocked back on his heels, considering her question. “Hard to say. I worked on it pretty regularly for a couple of years. Business was slow and I had a lot of time on my hands. I thought it’d be a good idea to have a kind of demonstration garden to show potential customers what I could do.”

  “I imagine your clients were impressed.”

  “It worked pretty well.”

  He’d bought the house right after the fiasco with his father. He’d been young, angry, and full of righteous indignation, determined to prove to his family that he could make it on his own. He’d poured all of his energy and frustration into building Rocky Mountain Landscapes into a viable business and making his own backyard his creative showpiece. In the process, it had become a private sanctuary.

  “Do you mind if I look around?” Kendall asked, stepping forward on the stone path. She turned to face him, waiting for his reply.

  Ty wondered if she could sense how personal the space was to him. Once the business had taken off and he had referable clients, he stopped showing these gardens to customers. In the past three years, only his cl
ose friends had been invited to this small refuge from the outside world. “Sure. I’ll get the drinks. What would you like?”

  She smiled. “White wine, please. I also need to make a quick phone call.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll be right back.”

  She watched Ty stride down the path that led to the back of the house, his wide shoulders straight under the expensive fabric of his sweater.

  She had a new appreciation for the work Ty did, for the beauty he created in the world. She imagined coming home to this type of sanctuary every night. A heavy warmth settled in her stomach that felt remarkably like contentment.

  Whoa, there. She was talking about trees and grass. Nothing irreplaceable. They had grass in New York City. It was called Central Park.

  She reached into her purse for her cell phone. She punched in the numbers and, after three rings, her mother answered.

  “It’s me.”

  “What an unexpected treat to hear from you, baby. Is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s fine. I just called to say Happy Easter.”

  “To you, too, sweetie. Your dad and I just finished supper. He made most of it.”

  “Are you feeling ok?”

  “I haven’t had a flare-up in a few weeks, but I was tired today. Don’t you worry. Your daddy’s been taking real good care of me.”

  “That’s nice, Mom,” Kendall interrupted. “Listen, I don’t have a lot of time right now but I wanted to thank you—”

  “Thank me? Thank me for what? Your birthday isn’t for another couple of months.”

  She thought about the overt tension at dinner with the Bishops. They were the family she’d thought she wanted, perfect from the outside. But things weren’t always as they appeared on the surface. She never considered herself lucky, but despite their struggles, her parents loved each other and her. That was something money couldn’t buy.

  “I wanted to thank you and Daddy for the way you always supported me growing up. When he had his drinking problems and was away at rehab, you always did your best. Even through your pain. He did, too, when he got sober. I wasn’t easy to live with once I started at Graves, and I know we weren’t as close as you would have liked. You were always there for me. Even when I acted like a total brat, you and Dad made so many sacrifices to make my dreams come true.” Emotion clotted in the back of her throat. “Anyway, I should have said it before this, but I want you to know how much I love and appreciate everything the two of you did for me.”