Lacy (The Doves of Primrose) (5 page)

“For Pete’s sake, Lacy.
Calm down,” she whispered to herself, and with the towel still wrapped around her hand she mounted the first step. But as soon as she was up the first step and shaking off the sudden influx of crazy, she immediately turned and walked out the front door and made her way to the offending tree where the ladder was still perched. In all her anger and humiliation she had forgotten to put it back in the shed.

Sliding it off the bark and onto the ground she bent to get a firm hold on it. It was heavy and awkward and slammed into her leg with every step. It had been much easier carrying it with Emmylou. This was a
two-man job. The trailing end of the ladder banged against the ground, forcing her to set it down.

“Damn it.” She blew the hair out of her face with one puff.

“I see you still have a flair for words.”

A groan slipped out and she hoped that he took it for irritation instead of what it really was.  She turned to see Kyle’s sexy gri
nning face and muscled arms folded over his chest. Maybe it was just the setting sun casting a shadow on his already jet black hair and broad shoulders but he looked far more dangerous than before. Lacy felt the familiar pull in her stomach that she used to get many years ago when he would suddenly appear.

“What can I say? It comes naturally.” Lacy turned and started to drag the ladder.
“Must be my unsavory ancestors.” She made it two steps before it suddenly became weightless. She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

“Let me do it. You’ll just hurt yourself.”

Like hell.
Lacy pasted a smile on her face and jerked on the ladder. Kyle simply tilted his head and kept his grip. “No, I usually have help in that department.” Lacy bit down on her lip.

Kyle narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to say som
ething.

“Let go!” She gave another yank on the ladder and the metal extension slid. Lacy lost her balance and toppled backwards with a “humph” and an “ouch
.” The ladder clattered to the ground as she collapsed in a heap in front of him for the second time that day.

“Are you all right?”
Kyle rushed forward. His strong hands lifted her from her prone position before she could even catch her breath. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her to his body.

“I’m fine.” She ground out and tried to elbow him in the ribs. He let her go but her head was still spinning from all the motion and she stumbled.
A split second later Kyle was bundling her into his arms. Now the world was circling at an angle and she felt sick. Somehow she knew it was all his fault, she just couldn’t focus on why. Everything hurt and yet something smelled so
good
. His shirt was downy soft. She automatically rubbed her cheek against his chest and found steel beneath the cotton harmonizing with a compelling pledge of comfort.

“You’re not fine.” He adjusted his grip, raising her higher in his strong arms.

An inhale of his distinctly masculine scent chased over her senses, bringing understanding with it. She froze in mid-sniff, wide-eyed.

“Well, I would be if you’d quit tossing me around like a rag doll!” Lacy flung her hair out of her face. “Put me down!” She felt his muscles tense
, appreciating him resisting the urge to drop her on her face. After several moments, he slowly placed her feet down and steadied her.

“Thank you.” That almost hurt her to say. “But it wasn’t ne
cessary.”

“You’re welcome.” He held her eyes with his baby blue gaze. “And yes it was.”

She sucked in a breath through clenched teeth
but fought the impulse to fight with him. That required spending more time in his presence and she seemed to make an ass of herself every time that happened. “We’ll agree to disagree on that.”

“Fine.”

She plunked her hands on her hips and jutted her chin out. He arched a brow and kept his intense stare even after a chuckle escaped his lips.

“Did you want the last word?” he smirked.

“No.” Her gaze darted away and she lifted her chin.

“Liar.”
He raised his eyebrow and Lacy wanted to poke him in the eye. “People in glass houses…” She crossed her arms over her chest, turning away.

“What did I lie about, Lacy?”

Breath slid from her open mouth when he spoke her name, at the same time adrenaline scored through her veins. “Nothing. I didn’t mean anything by that.” She stumbled through that sentence enough to discredit herself so she bent and heaved the ladder back into her hands.

“God, you’re stubborn.”

She ignored him and started to drag the ladder in the direction of the shed.

“Where does this go?” Kyle’s arm pressed against her as he removed the ladder from her grip. Momentarily deprived of
speech, she pointed in the direction of the shed. It wasn’t until after he nodded and took off that she thought to tell him exactly where he could stick it. She would have with any other overbearing, cocky male who thought to push her around. Kyle was always good at throwing her off her game.

She followed
him, enjoying the view. It wasn’t as if the rest of the country hadn’t enjoyed what Kyle had to offer, only they got it
on the big screen, she got it up close and in real time.  She marveled at how effortlessly he maneuvered the heavy ladder and remembered the cowboy he was before. For one weak second Lacy actually wished for that life before scolding herself for her stupidity. That kind of thinking was what landed her in the path of Brice Campbell. He also looked good in Wranglers and worked manual labor, apparently her fatal weakness. Kyle propped the ladder against the side of the faded red shed and looked back at her.

“What?” She jumped a bit too much and sounded a bit too guilty.

He motioned to the door. “It’s locked.”

She shook her head,
not believing he had just said that. “Are you kidding me? Have you been in the city that long?” She whisked by him, turned the loose padlock and removed it. She dangled it in front of his face. “This is Primrose, not Hollywood.”

“I don’t live in Hollywood.”
He grabbed her hand, lock and all. “Ouch!” Lacy tried to pull away, but he kept her hand trapped and pulled her closer.

“Oh, settle your horses. I didn’t grab you that hard.” His eyes transformed from sky to stormy blue as he angled his head, kee
ping her gaze locked to his.

Lacy swallowed audibly. A flash of heat washed over her and her breath stalled. She braced for his kiss, invited it. She focused on his perfectly molded mouth, noticing the familiar white scar etched above his top lip. She knew the story behind that scar and considered how many other women claimed the same thing. Even so, she couldn’t wait for it to be beneath her own lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed as he leaned forward.

“What’s this?”

Lacy popped her eyes open, feeling stunned and deprived.  “What?”  She found him with her hand raised up for his scrutiny.

“When did you do this?”

She leveled her tilted head, blinking at him. Her faculties r
eturned in a fresh surge of anger. He had tricked her.
Damn it, he had tricked her!
She just failed the test. His test. She ripped her hand from his grasp and doubled up her fist with every intention of burying it in his beautiful face.

“It looks bad, Lace. You should get a bandage for it. I don’
t think it’s from the ladder.”

The smirk he was giving her forced pink into her face. She glared at him and held her injured hand. “Well
, aren’t you just Sherlock Holmes? If you must know, it’s from the tree.”

“Oh.” He nodded and grinned.

She was throwing every bit of her nastiness at him and it was yet to faze him.
Yet
, she thought.

“Just put the ladder away, okay?”
she sneered and spun on her heel.

Three weeks was too long. She was never going to make it and he wasn’t going to make it out alive. At this rate she was bound to choke him or worse, throw herself at him and die of mortific
ation. He was the same old irresistible Kyle.

No. If she could resist Emmylou’s double fudge
caramel brownies she could resist Kyle for a few short weeks. She should have resisted him eight years ago and everything would’ve gone a lot differently.

“Hey!” Kyle’s voice drew her up short.

“Yeah,” she answered without turning around. Maybe if she didn’t look at him that would help. She didn’t hear his footsteps until he was right behind her and then it was too late. He appeared in her path with his hand on her shoulder. His nice strong hand on her exposed flesh.  Stupid tank top. When was it going to cool off? Certainly not while he was touching her. Lacy wanted to pull back, wanted to run away from him, but she stood there like a trapped rabbit entranced by the coy snake.

“If you hate me so much, why did you agree to let the movie crew
-” she held his gaze while he tipped his head and moved a step closer, “let
me
come here?”

She was incapable of responding. The only answer she had was embarrassing. And he was still touching her, now with both hands.

“Kyle?”

A woman’s voice broke the trance and Lacy stumbled, pulling away.

“Have you seen - oh, sorry.”

“
It’s fine, Lauren.” Kyle gave one last look at Lacy and she quickly looked at Lauren, who seemed eerily like a ghost in all white with the sun setting behind her. “What did you need?”

“Well, I was looking for Mrs. Campbell.”  The woman’s light green eyes latched onto Lacy with an uncomfortable intensity.

Lacy cleared
her throat and attempted to compose herself. “Yes, Miss Michaels?” Lacy only addressed her elders in this fashion, but the woman insisted on being formal.

“I hate to trouble you again, but I was wondering if you could help me with something inside?”

“Of course, it’s no trouble.”

Lacy walked past Kyle with only a slight tug to her chest. “Dinner’s at seven
,” she mumbled to him.

“See you there.”

Lacy nearly faltered with the weight of his implication. She was relieved he didn’t follow when she and Lauren walked to the house. Lacy opened the door allowing Lauren to enter first.

“Now, what was it you needed help with?”

“It’s my room.”

If it weren’t for the slight whine in her voice, Lacy wouldn’t know the woman was being apologetic. Her face never moved, never wrinkled. If that’s what plastic surgery does, Lacy would take the wrinkles.

“I’m sorry, is something wrong with it?”

“Yes. Would you mind following me?”

Lacy followed the robot woman as she ascended the stairs, trying to decipher her personality. She was curious why Kyle would hire a woman like Lauren. Maybe they were doing it? That thought brought a chuckle to her throat. She couldn’t picture it no matter how hard she tried. They turned into Lauren’s guest room.

“Do you see what I’m talking about?”

Lacy scanned the room looking for problems for the second time that day and came up empty, again. “I’m sorry, Miss Michaels, I don’t. Can you show it to me?”

“It’s everything
.” She motioned to the room with a graceful, sweeping hand. “Did you mean for it to be this color when you painted it?”

“I didn’t.  My grandmother did.”  Lacy looked around at the sunny yellow room with the precious memory of her wonderful and quirky granny in her mind. She had worked her heart out to keep
The Dove House in its original state, with its wrought iron bed frames and pine floors.  Even the silk wallpaper was cleaned and maintained.

“Oh well, you see?  It’s not your fault.”  Lauren forced a small smile and continued. “I just don’t believe I will be able to get any rest in this room, what with feeling like I’m swimming in an egg yolk.” She cringed and made a fist with her thin hand. “So I’m going to need a different room.”

“A different room?” Lacy’s head hurt. It had been a long day and now this. Earlier the woman had gone on and on about loving the window seat and the striped pillows. Now all of a sudden she hated the color? And the birds, Lacy must not forget the birds that she nearly lost her life taking care of. Lacy could have avoided a whole barrel of trouble if Lauren had wanted a different room earlier.

“Yes. This house is enormous. I’m sure you have something available that will be suitable.”

Lacy bit her lip to keep from speaking her thoughts aloud. “Well, I have a few rooms on the main floor that Mr. Chandler wanted for the rest of the crew that’s showing up later, but-”

“I really like the upstairs.”

Lacy nodded.  “Sure you do.” 
Psycho
bird hater
, she added silently, thinking if there was a room far away from a towering cottonwood tree.

“What about that room?”

Lacy followed where the skinny finger was pointing and landed on her room. The room she had slept in since babyhood. “That’s my room!” She didn’t mean for it to come out like that but then again she couldn’t stand the thought of this woman in her bed or around her things.