Secretly Hers (Sterling Canyon) (2 page)

Trip knew Grey wanted to settle his legal claims against Avery’s brother Andy—who’d driven while drunk and injured Grey last winter—quickly and for as little money as possible. In order to do so, Grey was relying, in part, on Trip’s promise. Failure to secure the funding wouldn’t just be a major disappointment to Trip and put Backtrax on shakier ground, it could wreak havoc on Grey’s personal life, too. “I’ll have the money, Grey. Soon.”

“Okay. Dealing with Wade Kessler’s hotel project was only one part of saving this business. Your investment is still key.” Grey glanced at his watch. “I’m going to pick up the van from the shop. Catch you later.”

“Sure.” Trip watched Grey leave and then he stared at the manila folder in his hands. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. Anxiety threaded through his chest, tightening it along with the muscles in his shoulders.

Dammit
. He picked up the phone and dialed his father. “Hey, Dad.”

“Gunner, I’ve been waiting for your call.”

As always, love, resentment, and disappointment knotted in Trip’s stomach at the sound of his dad’s voice.

“Then you know why I’m calling.” Trip kept his own voice polite, if detached.

“Yes. I got the request to release funds from your trust last week. Needless to say, it surprised me, considering you’ve never touched that money. In any case, we need to discuss it first.”

“What’s to discuss? I thought it was my money.”

“It is.” His father sighed. “But until you’re thirty-five, I’m still the sole trustee, which means I can’t allow funds to be misused or wasted.”

Trip scowled at the implication. “You think I’m going to blow the money on something stupid?”

“Can’t honestly say I know you well enough these days to answer that question, but that’s beside the point.” His dad paused. “As trustee, I’m bound by a fiduciary duty, and I’m never derelict in my duties.”

Except your marital ones
. His dad had been derelict in his duty to his wife by catting around with Trip’s mom, which was how Trip came into existence and why Trip’s mom had named him after
her
father.

Now, however, wasn’t the time to point out his father’s selective memory, or dwell on how that sophomoric affair had shaped Trip’s outlook on love and life.

“So what do you need from me to move this along?” Trip hesitated. “There’s a bit of urgency on my end.”

“I figured there must be or you wouldn’t have asked for the funds. Describe this investment, and be specific. The email you sent my assistant was scant on details.”

Trip set his hat, brim up, on the desk and rubbed his forehead. “In December, I decided to work for a good friend who’d recently bought a backcountry expedition business. It sounded fun, and he’s a great guy, so I figured I had nothing to lose. We get along great, and I’ve been able to make a real contribution here. Now I’m ready to commit more time and energy to this town and buy a stake in the company. I’m getting a fifty percent ownership interest for the money.” After a brief pause, he said, “You should be happy. I’m finally growing up.”

“I am, son. And I respect your attempt to forge your own path. Reminds me of myself when I was younger.” He chuckled as if enjoying a flashback of his younger years. Of course, whenever his dad made a comparison between himself and Trip, it always served as one reminder of why Trip chose to remain a bachelor. He
was
a lot like his dad, which meant he couldn’t be counted on to commit to one woman for life. “Where exactly
are
you living these days? You haven’t set foot in Denver in almost two years. At least not to see your family.”

Trip had breezed through Denver during that time period, but he didn’t consider his stepmonster, Deborah, or older half brother, Mason, family. They’d made it their mission to interfere with the father-son relationship he and his dad might’ve been able to build. Made it real easy—enjoyable, even—for Trip to play out the role of the Cutler family’s bastard black sheep.

Despite his dad’s efforts to balance everyone’s needs, Deb and Mason’s behavior destroyed any chance they’d had at being a functional blended family. Trip’s dad still hoped they could all reconcile, but Mason and Deb’s hatred had merely cooled to indifference and neglect over time. Not exactly the stuff of happy family reunions.

“We’re in Sterling Canyon.” Trip cleared his throat, as if doing so might clear away the ugly memories crowding around him.

“You don’t say! We’ve just submitted a bid to W. Kessler Group regarding a construction contract for a sizable resort and condo development there,” his father said, pleasant surprise in his voice. “What do you know about it?”

Trip grimaced.
Of all the bad luck.
“I know Wade. Had to negotiate an easement over that development so we could retain access to our section of U.S. Forest property. He’s a decent guy, from my limited experience, anyway. But he’s destroying pristine land for oversize condos and a big hotel.”

He heard his dad chuckle, which didn’t surprise him considering his father had amassed a nationally known empire with Cutler Construction. “Still on that soapbox, I see. You do realize little towns like yours depend on amenities to draw tourists, right? Your business needs those very same tourists, so count your blessings.”

“I’ve made Sterling Canyon my home because of its natural beauty and ample outdoor adventure. I’m not looking to get rich here. Just want to make enough money to ski, climb, drink a good beer, and eat a good burger.”

“Easy to say when you’re already very wealthy.”

Reluctant acknowledgement tempered the hot streak of indignity that flashed through Trip. He closed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t needed that trust fund money for this deal. “This is the first time I’ve ever tapped my trust, and I’m barely touching it.”

“I don’t want to argue, I was just making a point.” His dad paused. “Maybe Mason and I should jump on the jet and come see you. You could give us a personal introduction to Wade before he chooses a contractor.”

Trip scrubbed the back of his neck. The office suddenly seemed muggy and hot. He did not want his dad—or worse, his pompous half brother—snooping around town. Of course, Mason would probably be all too happy to come cast judgment on Trip’s lifestyle.

“Silence isn’t exactly the warm response a father wants from his son.” His father’s voice jerked him out of his daze. Just like that, guilt seized Trip’s shoulders, tugging them back.

“Sure, Dad. I’ll introduce you.”

A defeated sigh came through the other end of the phone. “One of these days we need to have a heart-to-heart, Gunner. I realize our family isn’t picture-perfect, but I’ve been there for you since your mom died.”

For the first decade of Trip’s life, his mother and
her
father—his beloved Poppy—had raised him. But when his mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, she’d introduced Trip and his father to each other. Trip’s dad spent the ensuing months convincing his mom and her father that he could better provide for Trip’s future than Poppy could. But when Trip had finally been taken from Poppy’s home just two weeks after his mom died, Deb’s resentment had made it impossible to openly grieve his losses.

As a man, Trip understood why Deb had disliked having a constant reminder of her husband’s infidelity staring her in the face each day. But as a boy, it had been brutal. At first, Trip had been eager to meet his older brother. Unfortunately, Mason turned out to be an entitled, self-centered brat who despised sharing his father. Trip suffered through almost five years of torment before Mason went off to college.

His father continued, “Don’t you think it’s time everyone made peace with our situation?”

Trip pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled slowly. “No one’s fighting, Dad. I just don’t live in Denver or work for the family business. I’m pretty sure Deb and Mason are happier without me in the picture, too.”

He imagined his dad waving his hand dismissively, scowling.

“Dammit, son. You and Mason are brothers. It’s time you two talked, man to man. Don’t think I haven’t spoken to Mason about all this, too. Meanwhile, I’m not getting any younger. And Mason’s been having a tough time since Jen filed for divorce. He could use a brother.”

Trip pounded a fist against his breastbone, trying to break up the ball of acid burning through his esophagus. “Mason may be my
half
brother, but I doubt he wants to confide in me. He’d probably take out his best Remington and shoot you if he knew you just shared that tidbit about Jen. So can we not argue about him right now? Let’s focus on why I called, and deal with the rest some other time. I really need you to release the funds before I lose this opportunity.”

While Trip had no sympathy for Mason, he didn’t feel very proud of disappointing his father. Every fiber of his being resisted being hog-tied by guilt, but those ropes were chafing him anyhow. Dammit, he knew there’d be a steep price to pay for tapping into his trust fund.

“Send me the financials so I can give them a look and make sure you’re not getting ripped off. If everything is in order, I’ll wire the funds by the end of the week.”

“Thanks.” Relief trickled through Trip, easing the muscles in his back. “I’ll email the most recent statements. Call me if you have other questions . . . ,” he paused, “or if you decide to come to town.”

“Gunner, think about what I’ve said. If you and your brother can’t solve your own problems, you’re going to force me to find a way.”

“I hear you.” Trip hung up and tossed the phone on the desk. He blew out a deep breath, clasped his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes.

Their dad had tried and failed to negotiate peace in the past, and Trip remained certain they were all better off apart. If only he could squash that tiny voice inside that whispered about owing his dad more attention and respect.

Grey walked back through the door and went straight to his center desk drawer. “Got all the way there before I realized I forgot my wallet.” He then looked at Trip, eyes narrowed. “You look like you’re about to barf. What happened?”

“Went a few rounds with my old man.” Trip folded his arms across his chest. “But I should have the funds by the end of the week.”

On his way back out of the office, Grey slapped Trip on the shoulder. “Sorry this has caused you trouble with your family. But our partnership is worth it. You’ll see.”

It had better be, Trip thought, because he might’ve just opened the door to a whole lot of misery by using that money.

Chapter Two

Kelsey walked with Fee the six blocks across town from her condo to her sister’s house. As they approached the yellow clapboard home, she admired her sister’s small garden, manicured lawn, and picket fence—a private outdoor haven compared with the shallow balcony of Kelsey’s second-floor unit.

They passed through the front gate and started up the walkway.

“I see you’ve changed out of your costume.” Maura smiled at Kelsey from the front porch.

Fee scampered up the front steps and flung herself into Maura’s arms. “Mommy!”

Maura hugged her while kissing the top of her head. “Did you have fun with Aunt Kelsey?”

Fee nodded. Maura then looked at Fee’s costume, her eyebrows rising as she noticed the streaks of chocolate and vanilla icing smeared across its skirt. “Looks like you got a treat . . . or two.”

“Three!” Fee exclaimed, apparently forgetting Kelsey’s earlier warning as she thrust three extended fingers in Maura’s face. Maura raised one eyebrow at Kelsey, who shrugged and flashed a guilty smile. “And we met Prince Charming, too, but he says he’s too old to marry me.” Fee flashed a wide-eyed smile. “So I told him to marry Aunt Kelsey.”

“Aren’t you thoughtful?” Maura chuckled before patting Fee’s bum and sending her inside to change. Then she turned toward Kelsey. “Well, your day sounds interesting. Park your butt on the porch swing and give me the scoop.”

While following Maura to the far end of the porch, Kelsey noticed her sister hadn’t quite lost all her baby weight since giving birth to Tyler ten months ago. Of course, even on their best days, neither she nor Maura would ever be considered skinny. They looked like sisters, although Kelsey’s hair was a shade or two lighter, and six inches longer, than Maura’s. At five-foot eight, Kelsey also stood about two inches taller, and her cup size was at least two sizes bigger, too—as Maura often lamented.

“Where’s Ty?” Kelsey asked as she settled onto the swing, which creaked as they began to rock.

“Napping.” Maura held up a baby monitor before setting it back on the windowsill. Her eyes radiated girlish mischief. “Now, who exactly is Prince Charming?”

“Trip Lexington.”

“Oh, no!” Maura giggled. “Were you mortified? Did he catch you in that ridiculous getup you were wearing?”

“Yes, literally. I collided with him on our way out of Sweet Cakes.” Kelsey shrugged. “But I’m not
mortified
. It’s not like I’m interested in him.”

“Really?” Maura tilted her head, using her sisterly intuition to sniff out Kelsey’s self-deception. “I’ve never met the man. Only seen him in town. But Fee’s right, he does look like Prince Charming.”

A flush of heat prickled throughout Kelsey’s body. “I have eyes, so I can appreciate his ‘most gorgeousness.’ But these eyes also see how
he
appreciates himself. I like a confident guy, but Trip’s cocky. He’s probably a great one-night stand, but definitely not boyfriend material.”

“Until someone comes along and rocks his world.” Maura wiggled her brows suggestively, prodding Kelsey with an elbow to the ribs. “Someone like a strong, sassy Callihan girl to bring him to his knees.”

That’s how Maura had always referred to them—the Callihan girls—and she said it like a boast, like they knew life secrets no one else had figured out yet.

On the surface, Kelsey and Maura didn’t have much in common. Maura, sixteen months older, had been a tomboy and rarely wore makeup. “Doing her hair” meant taking it out of its ponytail and running a brush through it. And fashion? Well, Kelsey sometimes thought her sister’s ratty cutoff shorts might one day get up and walk away on their own.

Yet deep down, the sisters shared values and a romantic outlook on life. They talked big, dreamed bigger, and loved biggest of all. So Maura’s not-so-subtle encouragement regarding Trip didn’t shock Kelsey. Romantic fancies were practically a reflex for the Callihan girls.

“I’ll pass.”

“Come on. You’re single; he’s single. Don’t tell me you’ve never even fantasized about him.”

“The fantasy of that guy is probably better than the real thing. And
if
Trip’s better in real life than in my fantasy, well, that might be the worst thing that could happen.” When Maura failed to appear convinced, Kelsey poked her leg. “I told you, I’m done with guys my age. They’re too immature, just like every guy I’ve ever dated since middle school. They look at me and see sex—period. I’ve learned good sex won’t make someone love me. Now I’ve got to go about it a different way, or we’ll have no shot at raising our kids together like we always planned.

“In the meantime, I’m putting energy into my career, which has been taking off. The commission on Wade’s deal alone is six figures. And, confidentially, I told him the Copeland family is thinking of selling their tract of land just outside the northwest corner of town. He might be interested in another commercial development here. At this point, I’m the only broker in the deal. That could translate to about five hundred grand in commission. If that happens, I can start to invest in small apartment buildings in town, which would be debt-free by the time I retire.”

“Wow! I’m proud of you, sis, although I wonder how the community will react to another major Kessler development.” Maura waved away her concern, threw one arm around Kelsey and squeezed her. “But weren’t you interested in a more personal payoff with Wade?”

Kelsey wrinkled her nose. “Yes, but I don’t think I’m getting anywhere with that negotiation. He’s friendly. We’ve had a few meals together while looking at the property. But he hasn’t made a single move.” She sighed. “Maybe I should be more like Avery, you know? For years she’s tried to get me to see the ‘he’s not that into you’ signs. Wade’s signs aren’t exactly flashing ‘I want you’ in neon.”

“Maybe he thinks someone as young and pretty as you wouldn’t be interested in him?” Maura’s sincere expression made Kelsey want to laugh out loud, but she shook her head instead.

“What rich, forty-year-old man thinks any unmarried, thirtysomething girl wouldn’t be interested?” Of course, maybe Kelsey should take one last shot before giving up on Wade.

“Good point.” Maura slapped Kelsey’s thigh. “So maybe Wade’s not ‘the one.’ There are other guys. And anyway, you’re lucky to have independence, the ability to be spontaneous, a solid career, and disposable income. Your life could go in any direction at any time, and that’s pretty exciting. Me? My boobs will look like deflated balloons by the time I’m done breastfeeding Ty. I spend my days cleaning up baby food and poop, and folding loads of laundry. If I read
Goodnight
Moon
one more time, I might actually go crazy. And Bill, while a great husband, can be like having a third child at times. Married life with young kids is not very romantic.”

Easy for Maura to say, when she already had the life Kelsey wanted. Kelsey never understood why so many married women liked to groan about being a wife and mom. The truth was none of those women would trade places with Kelsey.

After all, Maura got to fall asleep with Bill, a man who’d vowed to stick it out through thick and thin. She got to come home at the end of a disappointing day at work and talk to someone who actually cared, someone who maybe even offered a backrub. She got to snuggle up and read a book to Fee and Ty, whose hugs and kisses could wipe away the worst kinds of trouble.

Those thoughts zipped through Kelsey’s head, but she knew her sister meant well. And to be fair, Kelsey really could consider alternative futures now that her career had begun to take off. Futures that included exotic trips, new hobbies, and challenging business deals. So, rather than debate the finer points of marriage, she chose to nod and make light of her singleton status. “Thanks. You’ve just squashed any lingering interest I might’ve had in seducing Wade or Trip into wedded bliss.”

If only using the words
seduce
and
Trip
in the same sentence didn’t heat her blood.

“Anytime, sis.” Maura smiled. “Anytime.”

The sun had just peeked above the horizon when Kelsey pulled her car up to the Weenuche Inn to pick up her friend, Emma, for their six thirty yoga class. She scanned the windows, looking for signs of life, while wondering how Emma didn’t feel stifled working and living there with her mother year after year.

Kelsey checked her watch, then exited the car to hurry Emma along. She had just turned around when she spied Trip making a hasty exit through the inn’s front door. That man loved female tourists—fresh meat that didn’t hang around town long enough to expect a second date, let alone a commitment.

When he spotted Kelsey at the end of the walkway, his surprised expression quickly morphed from chagrin to something sly as his pace slackened. He called out, “Good morning, princess.”

If he thought he could embarrass her by bringing up last week’s costume incident, he was about to be taught a lesson.

“Don’t slow down on my account.” Kelsey leaned against her car, arms folded in front of her chest, verbal assault at the ready. “And while it probably will blow your mind, just consider this: the woman you’re so keen to sneak away from might not be all that interested in chasing you down.”

“In my experience, satisfied women always want more.” Undaunted, he came within a foot of Kelsey, his strapping frame casting hers in shadow. He leaned near, his eyes briefly dipping to her cleavage, which was scrunched together by the sports bra she’d worn for class. “And trust me, she’s more than satisfied.”

“Oh yeah?” She eyed his cowboy hat, half tempted to knock it off his head. Egos like his were the reason women like her were still single. “Well, in
my
experience, most men tend to overestimate their ability in the bedroom.”

“Lucky for me, I’m not like most men.” Trip’s lips curled upward in that sexy, arrogant way he’d perfected. When she rolled her eyes, he said, “If you need proof, just say the word.”

For just a second—a millisecond—she wanted to, badly. Attitude aside, he was hotter than a branding iron, even when mussed up and wearing last night’s wrinkled clothes. And it had been,
ahem
, a while since she’d been wrapped up in a man’s arms and legs.

Her slight hesitation ignited a spark of energy between them, which appeared to shoot an extra twinkle straight into his eyes. Her body flushed in response.

“No, thanks,” she finally managed. “I wouldn’t want to demolish your delusions of grandeur.”

He chuckled, his throaty laughter making her smile despite her best efforts. When her lips quirked, he raised one brow. Planting one hand on the roof of the car, he leaned forward and murmured, “If you ever change your mind, you let me know.”

It took a lot—a real lot—of resolve to hide the way her insides quivered as his voice skimmed across her ear. Thankfully, Kelsey saw the flash of Emma’s red hair emerge from the inn before Trip could break her down any further. He pushed off the car and faced Emma.

“’Morning.” Trip tipped his hat, smiling. “If you ladies will excuse me, I’ve got a busy day ahead.”

“Fancy seeing you here early in the morning . . . again,” Emma quipped. She narrowed her green eyes. “I might have to ban you from the property so people don’t start getting the wrong idea about this inn.”

“If you were smart, you’d use me to attract repeat business.” When Emma snorted, Trip winked and raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. Don’t want to keep you two from your exercise class. Lord knows how much we men appreciate the results.”

Before Emma or Kelsey could form a retort, he winked and jogged away. Emma watched him for a moment, shaking her head. When she turned to get into the car, she looked over the roof and said, “I know things didn’t work out for you with Grey, but thank God it was him you liked instead of his partner. What a disaster a crush on Trip would’ve been!”

An understatement, yet Kelsey couldn’t deny that some demented part of her brain and heart and other body parts might’ve been willing to risk the fallout.

Trip stepped out of the shower and rubbed the steam off the mirror with his towel. He rested his hands on either side of the sink and stared at himself. The hot water hadn’t eased the tension in his shoulders or around his mouth. An hour from now he’d see his dad for the first time in nearly two years. He guessed the only thing that might loosen him up at this point was amber in color, came in a bottle, and went down the hatch with a bite.