A Holiday Romance (9 page)

His shoved his straw hat to the back of his head, surprised at last. “Two?”

“My nephews. Dylan and Danny.”

Denver laughed. He took his hand off the steering wheel and reached for hers again.

She evaded him by tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ve been wondering. What happened to your cowboy accent?”

“Whatchew mean, li’l missy?”

“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought. Was it all an act, even the rodeo stories?”

“I entered a
ro-day-o
contest once on a dare. Stayed on the bronc for an entire three seconds. Broke my damn collarbone.”

“What about the cattle roundups? Where’d you learn the campfire songs?”

“I played guitar in a few honky-tonks in my day, so the songs were no trouble. The rest was acting.” He
wasn’t at all abashed. He tossed her a boastful look. “Damn good, ain’t I?”

“I guess.” Even though she’d suspected the truth, she couldn’t help being disappointed.

“Aw, honey. You’re disillusioned.”

The way he said
honey
made her feel as if she were spread with it. “I suppose you’re not from Texas, either.”

“Nevada. We lived in a lousy little mining town up in the mountains.”

“Who’s we?”

“Mom and Dad. My brother and sister.” Denver wiped his face. He sported a five-o’clock shadow that gave him a becoming rough-and-tumble look. She supposed that was also carefully cultivated. “The old man would park us in a run-down shack he’d won from some geezer on a bet, then hit the road, looking for his big break.”

“Did he ever find it?”

“We had some good times. Some not so good when Mom had to scramble to feed us.” Denver shrugged. “But I don’t blame the old man. I leave that to my big brother.”

“You sound as though you sympathize with your father. Maybe even admire him.”

He gave her that sneaky grin again, sneaky because it slid in under Alice’s skin even when she didn’t want it to. “I’m a rolling stone myself.”

“I’ll bet you’ve been in a few scrapes.”

“Some. I’ve been in lockup. Never got into trouble so bad that I was sent to prison, though.”

“Oh.” Now she wondered how bad a boy he was. And why he was interested in her. There’d been a lot of women after him tonight. Floozies, her mother would have called them. Big hair, big boobs, big appetites for Denver.

“What’s your last name?” she asked.

“I go by Lawless.”

She laughed. “Fitting. But what’s your real name?”

“Lawless is real enough for now.” He recaptured her hand. “Why so many questions, sweetheart?”

“Just trying to get to know you.”

He dipped his head, keeping his eyes on the pavement, but his knowing smile sent her senses spinning. “Allie, darlin’. There’re much better ways of doin’ that.”

K
YLE KNEW
he was as conspicuous as hell, pacing back and forth in the shadowed loggia outside of condo building two. There hadn’t been a lot of activity since nightfall, but the few folks who had passed by had stared so hard he thought their eyeballs would fall out. Several blinds had parted and curtains had lifted in neighboring windows. He’d waved.

He checked his watch. Time to give up. Denver might keep her out all night. And he didn’t need another night of insomnia.

Still, he stayed. Thinking how he’d never lost sleep or got particularly jealous with other women. Not even Jenna.

How come Alice had him so fired up? He’d told himself he was here to put a stop to Denver’s rule-breaking, but that wasn’t the entire reason. Alice was like a sliver under his skin. Unnoticeable at first, but slowly working deeper. He’d be rid of her when she went home, but until then…

Finally a car turned in, Denver’s battered Ford, rolling past the parking lot to the bricked courtyard that served as a convenient drop-off and pickup area. The engine sputtered and died.

No one got out, but Kyle could see them indistinctly through the dusty windshield. Talking?

Yes, talking. Just talking.

He went still. But it wasn’t a stony kind of stillness. No, he was jacked up inside, hyperalert, ready to spring at the first move Denver made.

What for? What business was it of his, just because he couldn’t get Alice out of his mind?

Keep it professional,
he told himself, knowing full well he’d crossed that particular line the moment he’d staked out Alice’s condo.

The passenger door opened and Alice emerged, pushing back her hair. Her arm was slender and her skin ghostly pale in the moonlight, exposed by the tiny top she wore. Barely wore, held up only by narrow strings, with a sparkle where it scooped low across her breasts.

Now was the time for Kyle to speak. Let them know he was there. But he couldn’t. His mouth was dry, his tongue thick.

Her shoes clacked across the courtyard. The iron gate of the portico creaked open. Denver slunk through it right behind her, reaching out to catch her by the waist and nuzzle her neck.

She let out a laugh and darted away, arriving beneath the loggia faster than Kyle had expected. He was caught out in plain sight.

Her eyes went round. “Kyle!”

He stepped forward. “Good evening, Miss Potter.”

“What the…” Denver planted his green cowboy boots and stared, his arms crossed in a belligerent posture Kyle recognized. “What’re you doing here?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Denver sneered. “Like hell you should.”

Alice’s head was on a swivel. “What…?”

Denver jabbed an accusing finger. “His goal in life is to keep me from havin’ a good time.”

Kyle was fighting the adrenaline charging through him. He didn’t dare move a muscle. “It’s good to have goals,” he managed to say through gritted teeth.

“This is my fault,” Alice said. “
I
asked
him.
He was doing me a favor. Just as part of his job…” Her voice trailed off.

Kyle’s eyes went to her. Did she really care enough about Denver to lie to protect his job? Or would she have done the same for any of the employees, just as she’d defended the pastry chefs?

He shook his head. “You don’t have to cover for him.”

“I’m not. I’m—” She cut herself off. “Please, Kyle. Don’t fire him.”

Denver scoffed. “He’s not gonna fire me. He hasn’t got the balls.”

Alice gasped.

Kyle’s muscles bunched. “It’s within my rights.”

“Rights?” Denver laughed. “Yeah, you did it to Daisy, right? Single mother and all.” He turned to Alice. “This guy’s a cold son of a bitch, I tell ya. Blood’s not gonna stop him from doin’ that fancy-ass job of his.”

Suddenly Kyle found himself an inch away from Denver’s face. “Shut your mouth.” He was hoarse.

Denver flicked off his hat, his eyes blue flames. “Fire me.”

Kyle had raised a hand, ready to defend himself. He clenched it, instead, swallowing hard.

“Do it.” Denver breathed heavily, smelling of beer. “Make up your mind,
Mr.
Jarreau. Hit me or fire me. I don’t care. Just do it.”

Kyle glared. Visceral instincts clawed at his control,
demanding action. But he was too aware of Alice in his peripheral vision, watching them, her face white and her arms clutched across her chest.

He dropped his hand. “Get out of here.”

Denver drew back. He swooped up his hat, set it low on his head, hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Kyle’s blood drummed in his ears. His mind whirled, taking him back to arguments at home when he’d been a kid. If he stayed very still, if he made no sound, if he counted to a hundred million, the fighting would be over. He could do his homework in peace and quiet.

Denver shot a two-finger salute at Alice before swaggering toward his car. “See ya, honey.”

Kyle’s head cleared.
No.
He wasn’t done.

He caught up, grabbing Denver’s shoulder on the other side of the gate. “You will
not
take her out again. Try it, and I
will
fire you.”

Denver wrenched away. He kicked the gate closed between them. “I never wanted this damn playacting job in the first place.”

“No, you wanted a handout,” Kyle said, talking so low his throat ached. Maybe he should have taken the easy way out and given Denver the cash. He’d been a burr under Kyle’s saddle since the day he’d strolled across the Oasis lobby as if he owned the place.

“Cheap bastard.” The insult was not new. Denver got into the car, cocking his chin at Kyle. “What’re you saving it for, anyway?”

Kyle stepped through the gate. “You’d rather be poor? Scraping by from one job to another?” He went up to the car, needing to see Denver’s face, to know if there was anything left between them. “Sound familiar?”

Denver didn’t answer, except to turn on the ignition. He revved the engine several times, probably scaring residents out of their beds.

Kyle thumped the window. “Get out of here.”

Denver was laughing as the car roared away.

Kyle took a deep breath and turned back to the condo complex.

Alice. She hadn’t moved.

He walked up to her, his hands hanging limply at his sides. The confrontation had sucked every shred of emotion out of him.

She stood in front of her door, fingers around the purse and jacket she held against her abdomen. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “What was that about?”

He regretted the entire event. “I don’t want my staff dating the guests.”

“All right, but there’s more to it than that.”

“Never mind.” He turned to go.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Her vehemence stopped him. “That was quite a scene. You owe me an explanation.”

He rubbed his temples. “It’s a long sad story.”

“Give me the short version.”

He exhaled, then swung around to face her. The concern on her face reached into him, but he shut her out the same way he’d avoided emotional complications since the day, at twelve years old, he’d given up on his family.

“Denver’s my brother.”

“Y
OUR BROTHER
,”
Alice said. “Denver is your brother. I don’t believe it. You’re nothing alike.” But hadn’t she noticed a resemblance, just a hint of one? Now that she knew, she could see it more clearly.

At that moment, though, Kyle looked nothing like the cocky cowboy. He was a man defeated. She’d never imagined Kyle this way. He’d seemed practically invincible.

“It’s the truth,” he muttered. He straightened to stare off across the courtyard. His shoulders moved uneasily, as if he had to work the tension out of his body. “He’s my brother.”

“Yes.” As if he needed
her
agreement. She paused. “What was all that about—the fight?”

“Family history. You know how it is.”

She remembered what Denver had said in the car on the way home. The absent father, growing up poor. She had a hard time connecting that sort of past to Kyle and his current success.

Unless that was the reason for it.

“I gave him the job here.” Kyle’s tone was remote. He could have been talking to anyone. Or no one. “I thought, if for once he had stability…” He shrugged. “I thought I was helping. But he only resents me for it.”

Alice looked away. She shook the wrinkles out of her jacket and draped it over her arm. Kyle’s turmoil was a private thing. “I’m sure he appreciates the job. A lot of people have trouble expressing gratitude.”

Kyle snorted. “No. He resents me for making something of myself.”

“Maybe he feels…” She reached out, then stopped when Kyle moved away.

There was a long silence. He exhaled and crossed his hands at the back of his head. He clenched his fingers in his hair before dropping them as if they were too heavy to hold up.

“I’m only a bystander,” Alice said softly, “but it makes sense that he’s jealous.”

Her thoughts turned unexpectedly toward her own life. There’d been times when she’d felt green over Sue’s good fortune—having it all with the husband, the kids, the cake shop. Or Jay, who’d remained happy-go-lucky even after his divorce.

Fortunately, Sue was a good friend. And Jay had sympathized with Alice’s occasional frustration at being stuck on Osprey Island. Her resentment hadn’t festered.

It seemed that the Jarreau brothers weren’t as lucky.

“Jealous of what?” Kyle said.

“Your…” She couldn’t say it was his lifestyle, when she didn’t really know how he lived except that he seemed to have all the trappings of wealth. “Your success.”

“Denver’s never wanted that, not if he had to work for it. He’s more like our father.”

“A gambler.”

Kyle swung around. “How did you know?” His tone was almost accusatory.

“Well, I…it was something Denver said.”

“The man claimed to have won and lost millions,” Kyle said bitterly. “Wild exaggerations, but for sure he could never seem to hold on to a dime.”

Alice realized that he’d taken her comment literally. She’d been envisioning Denver and his father as devil-may-care vagabonds, risk takers, gambling with their futures rather than cold hard cash.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what?”

“That you had it so hard growing up. Denver told me some of it. And I understand. My dad passed away when we were teenagers, without much insurance, so we had some lean years on the island before…”

She trailed off. Kyle was looking at her narrowly. She crossed her arms.

“You and Denver got close, huh?” His voice was low. “You enjoyed your little date?”

Needles pricked at her skin. Was he baiting her? Was he
jealous
—the way she’d foolishly wanted him? She didn’t care for the reality of that.

“Denver knows how to have a good time,” she said carefully, keeping herself occupied rooting in her purse for the door key. Kyle might have a legitimate reason to come down on his brother, but he had no rights over
her.
“We danced. He held my hand.”

Kyle cleared his throat. “Did he kiss you?”

“That would be telling.” She was emotionally confused, all mixed up about what she wanted. Who she wanted.

Denver was easy, in so many ways. Kyle was complicated.

She refused to play one brother against the other, especially when they were already at odds. Yet it was dif
ficult to know how to respond when she wasn’t even sure what she felt.

Kyle had come here, waited outside the condo for who knew how long. He’d intended to ruin her date with another man, but had hidden behind “professional” reasons when he might—just possibly might—have other-than-professional feelings for her.

It was too much.

But hadn’t she wanted too much, after years of too little?

Kyle was suddenly only inches away. The heat of his body confused her even more. “Don’t kiss him.”

She faded back, found the solid door behind her. “What does it matter to you?”

Don’t say it’s your job. Don’t say it’s only business.

His eyes were dark and unreadable. The pause while he formed his answer was excruciating.

“I’d rather—” He cleared his throat again. “I’d rather you were kissing me.”

Stunning. She was hollow; her insides had dropped away like a stone falling off a cliff. Only one thought stayed in her head: beware of what you wish for.

Her lips seemed to be stuck together. They made a small sound when they parted. “Kiss
you?
”

“Yes.”

He touched his forehead to hers, repeated the incredible words with his voice so husky it sent shivers across her skin. “Kiss me.”

“That’s…that’s n-not…”

His hands closed around her upper arms. He held her as if he never intended to let go.

She shut her eyes. Her knees were giving out. “You can’t do this. You can’t kiss me.”

“I can.”

“No.” With a supreme effort, she battled back the headiness of being admired, sought,
wanted.
“It’s company policy, isn’t it? What’s wrong for Denver is wrong for you, too.”

She spun and jammed the key into the lock, then slammed the door behind her without looking back—because she wasn’t at all certain she shouldn’t have kissed him exactly as he’d wanted.

And damn the consequences.

“H
OLD UP
,”
Kyle called, breaking into a sprint. The heat was oppressive even at eight in the morning, but a guy with a gold chain around his neck and a serious addiction to men’s hair dye was heading over to take the wheel of Alice’s two-passenger ATV.

He put his hand on the vehicle. “Sorry, bud. I’m taking this one.”

Alice gaped at him, holding one of the soft-sided coolers the guide had passed out to the small crew gathered for the desert trek.

Kyle nodded at her. “I know the lady.”

She stowed the cooler and other gear in the back compartment, keeping her hands busy while she glanced at him. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

He snapped the tie-downs into place. “This
is
work. I’m evaluating our selection of off-season activities. Doing quality control. Researching ways to encourage greater participation. Whatever you want to call it.”

“Uh-huh.” She lowered her sunglasses. Her small smile was touched with a hint of wicked intent. “Why don’t I drive?”

“But—”

She tut-tutted. “None of that, Mr. Jarreau. Your guests must come first.” Coolly, she slipped under his arm and clambered into the off-road vehicle, a red Polaris RZR. “I’m driving.”

“As you wish, ma’am.” Teeth clenched, he walked around to the opposite side. The other Razors were now ready to go. The guide made sure the seat belts and safety nets that prevented passengers from catapulting out of the open vehicles were fastened. Engines were gunned.

Alice’s expression had grown slightly grim. “Ready?”

The guide dashed over. “Mr. Jarreau! I didn’t realize—”

Kyle took hold of one of the bars of the roll cage and vaulted into the ATV. “Surprise inspection.”

The guide’s face was red. “You could ride with me and I’ll—”

“No, no.” Kyle waved him off. “This is fine. Treat me as any other guest.”

“Yes, sir. First class all the way.” The guide called for the group’s attention, fumbling with a map as he reeled off the same instructions he’d given in the safety class.

Kyle watched Alice tap her foot impatiently. She wore flat-soled sandals and a pair of jean shorts. The sleeves of a white cotton blouse were rolled above her elbows, with a red bandanna looped loosely at the open neck. Her legs and arms had become lightly tanned. As had the expanse of midriff exposed by the knotted tails of her shirt. He wondered if she wore a bikini poolside.

He rubbed his palms. “I hope you don’t mind me hijacking your ride.”

“It’d help if you admitted your real intentions,” she
replied. “I know you’re all business—
supposed
to be—but your excuse was flimsy.”

Sunshine bounced off the spotted windshield. He put on his sunglasses, making a mental note to have the Razors washed more thoroughly after every outing.

What
were
his intentions?

He hadn’t liked it, not one bit, but by morning he’d had to admit that he was fortunate Alice had saved him from making a big mistake. He’d also admitted to himself that the confrontation with his brother had been born out of jealousy—on both sides. He and Denver had never had a direct rivalry over women, but seeing his brother pulling his “ladies’ man act” on Alice had fired up Kyle’s desire to protect her. Perhaps to claim her. Once unleashed, the primal urge hadn’t been easy to subdue, even after she’d shut the door in his face.

Might explain the impulse to join the desert ATV tour. No surprise, Lani had just happened to know Alice’s plans for the day, via her grapevine.

Alice had tilted her head at him. At the corner of her sunglasses, he saw the flicker of her lashes.

“No ulterior motives,” he professed. “I’m just along for the ride.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She snapped the seat belt, turned the key and put the Razor in gear. Every move was neat and economical, accompanied by the bob of her short ponytail. “But if you insist…”

He looked at her. She looked straight ahead through the windshield, smiling faintly while the guide droned on.

Kyle cleared his throat. “Uh, do you know what you’re doing?”

She thrust out her chin. “You bet.”

He just had time to grab a brace before she jammed
her foot down on the gas and they took off in a shower of dirt and pebbles, rocketing past the rest of the group.

Alice let out a whoop. “Enjoy the ride,
Mr.
Jarreau!”

“W
HOA
,” K
YLE SAID
as Alice aimed the Razor at a slanted wall of rock. The tough little vehicle climbed without protest and within minutes they’d crested. A glorious panorama of desert opened up before them. She turned the wheel sharply, pulling to a jarring stop well back from the edge of the canyon.

They both inhaled at the expansive sight of the butte dropping away in sheer stone cliffs. A red-tailed hawk soared across the sky, the only movement in the vast stillness.

“We have to go back for my stomach.” Kyle removed his sunglasses and wiped his hand across his forehead, smearing the dust and sweat into a brown streak. “It fell out at the bottom of the hill.”

“Ha.” She climbed out of the vehicle and walked toward the edge. Red sandstone sheered off into a deep, graveled arroyo swagged with bushes she recognized as creosote, cholla and Mormon tea, thanks to her field guide.

He followed. “Where did you learn to drive like that?”

“My brother. He uses an ATV on the island.” She glanced fondly at the Razor, its flashy red panels now dulled by dust. “Nothing so spiffy, though.” She gestured at the rolling landscape rimmed with craggy peaks. The sky was a bright blue with dark-bottomed thunderclouds high to the west. “And we don’t have this.”

Kyle shaded his eyes with his hand, scanning the horizon. “Yeah, it’s impressive. But you must have quite a view on Osprey Island.” Lines fanned out from his squinting eyes. “I mapped it online,” he confided.

“You did?” She touched the back of her hand to her cheek. The skin was hot, tender, even with all the sunblock she’d applied. “Why?”

“I like to know things.”

She laughed. “‘I like to know things’? You sound like one of my fifth graders.”

He pushed his hands into the pockets of his shorts, chuckling. “So you’re a teacher.”

“I used to be. I’m going back to it this fall, I hope. I’m waiting to hear about a couple of jobs I interviewed for, but I don’t know. There weren’t many openings and the competition was tough.” Going up against the peppy young teachers fresh off their degrees, she’d felt like a piece of stale bread forgotten in the cupboard.