The Maverick's Red Hot Reunion (Entangled Indulgence) (2 page)

“You’ve been busy,” he said, keeping his tone even.

“I want the site ready for the next phase. The exterior takes priority.”

Zach inhaled Kennedy’s familiar aroma of citrus and spice, saw the fluttering pulse in the hollow just below her collarbone. He remembered the feel and the taste of her sensitive, fragrant skin.

He clenched his jaw, sucked in a sharp breath. “Your crew fast?” he asked.

He saw a blush creeping up her throat. Nerves? Something more?

“The best in town.” She moved toward a schematic pinned to a wall. “Demo’s almost completed. Once we get your cash, we’ll move ahead with ordering the necessary supplies and kitchen equipment.”

“I want a mix of natural stone, cedar, and river rock throughout the exterior.” He glanced at her slim waist. “We’re going green, using the land as our inspiration.”

She nodded, her glossy hair falling over her shoulders. “I’ll apply for the additional building permits tomorrow.”

“Are the rooms in good shape?”

“Paint, updated furniture, and new carpet will bring them back to current industry standards,” she said.

Her chest rose—the swell of her breasts had once been his to claim during stolen moments. His muscles tensed and heat pulsed through his veins. He turned away and doused the fire burning inside him with the memory of her cruel words five years ago.

She turned to the arched doorway leading to the west wing. “The elevators are functional, passed inspection, but they’re outdated.”

He toured the rest of the lodge with Kennedy, careful to keep the conversation focused on the property’s renovation. When they’d completed inspecting the interior, she walked with him to his motorcycle.

She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Anything else you want to look at?” she asked.

He heard the hesitation in her voice. Something fierce snapped inside him. Old hurts, long suppressed, along with his desire, resurfaced. Damn it all to hell and back. He didn’t want to feel anything for Kennedy. But he did. And that scared the shit out of him.

He snagged his helmet off the handlebar. “I want to ride to the springs before the light fades.”

She blinked, stepping back. “Why?”

When he’d bought Sweetbriar Springs to salvage Michael’s dream, he had believed he would be working with Kennedy’s father. He’d also believed he’d moved on, grabbed the life he deserved at the helm of his father’s corporation. But he hadn’t. “I want them operational by December.” And he wanted to get her out of his system once and for all.

“There’s not enough time or manpower.”

“Michael wants to hold an ALS fundraiser here.”

“I’ll hire more people.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“I know how to wield more than a hammer, Tanner.” Her nostrils flared and her voice raised a notch. “Got my MBA after you left Sweetbriar. Tanner Enterprises may own Sweetbriar Springs, but I don’t need you to take charge of the day-to-day operations.”

“Good to know.” Nor did he care to argue the point. But he sure as hell planned to take care of the night shift once Kennedy admitted she still wanted him. He brought out his spare helmet. “Let’s ride.”

…

Kennedy’s heart thumped in her ribcage. Zach’s dark eyes challenged her, dared her to say no. But she had grown up in a world filled with boys and men. She’d learned how to hide her fear and feign courage.

She could certainly handle one angry ex-fiancé.

She grabbed the helmet and secured it.

He climbed on to the V-rod’s seat, then pointed to the leather seat behind him. She settled into the spot and coiled her arms around his waist.

“Hang on,” he said.

The engine vibrated between her legs. She tightened her hold and tucked her head against his broad back. He drove through the gates and onto the highway. She leaned as he banked a curve. The years melted away. Easily she slipped back into the routine of riding with him.

Wind whipped her exposed strands of hair, but with no cars in sight, he accelerated. Her thighs ached as she gripped the machine for added support. Zach had always been a hard, strong male made for speed.

For ownership.

For possession.

Possession she remembered.

Heat spiraled low in her belly, flamed through her insides, and branded her with a painful longing. She’d forgotten how wonderful the freedom of life had been with Zach. The stolen kisses between work shifts during their summer jobs at the resort, the one-tank motorcycle trips on days off, the late night picnics followed by intense lovemaking beside the springs. The very springs where they were now headed.

She hadn’t known how much she missed him until he returned. And for all her misguided good intentions five years ago, if he wanted to claim her again, she’d allow him to.

If only to have one more memory to carry in her heart.

Kennedy relaxed her hold when Zach zoomed down a long stretch of straight, paved freeway. Leaves, dipped in gold and burnished a bright crimson, decorated the trees in gorgeous hues. They climbed higher, and she could see the Blue Ridge Mountain ranges with their streaks of evergreen cutting into the oranges and yellows and russets. Umber tones quilted the dips and valleys in the mountainsides.

The air smelled of moss and plant life slowly readying for winter. She caught sight of a stag with a large rack of antlers before he jumped deep into the forest.

Zach exited onto a side road, smaller, almost a secret. His back was rigid, strong against her cheek, but his motorcycle jacket caressed her skin. She inhaled his familiar, soothing scent of leather and tantalizing male.

This was her Sweetbriar. Her history. Her future.

And once she’d shared it all with Zach.

He cruised to a clearing, stopped the engine, and secured the bike. “Place is a mess,” he said after they’d climbed off and shed their helmets.

Kennedy stared at the rotting wood benches and the shattered glass windows in the cedar changing rooms. The jagged edges taunted her with their accusations of neglect. Steam rose from the springs, the mist a spectral reminder of better times.

A small chill crawled under her skin, tunneled deep inside her body, and coated her ribs with ice. She’d hunted for frogs and fought imaginary wars here with Michael. Buried a time capsule with him and Zach on New Year’s Eve.

A night when friendship had transformed into love between her and Zach.

Kennedy hugged her waist. “This is why I’ve concentrated on prepping the lodge and grounds,” she said. “This area will take an army to overhaul.”

“You’ll have it completed by midweek.” Zach leaped over a fallen tree, then knelt beside the swirling waters. “We’ll sell the legend, the hope, the mystique.”

“You never believed that hokey new-age stuff about the springs,” she said as she joined him.

“You got that right.” He scooped out branches, twigs, and leaves. “I believe in making money.”

His profile was a mask, rock hard and stony, but his voice had a rough, gravelly edge undercutting his claim. Zach had changed into a calculating man for one reason. Her.

A knot formed in her throat. She swallowed and her sadness scraped along the inside edges, burning. Once she’d had the power to comfort Zach, reach his heart.

Now? No illusions clouded her thoughts. The less time they spent revisiting old memories and the more time they devoted to the renovation, the sooner they’d part company.

“We should leave before it gets dark,” she said.

“You’re right.” He stood, then pulled her up. “I want to stow my gear in the lodge.”

She tried to tug free. “Aren’t you commuting from Asheville?”

“Takes too long.” He held her hand captive in his strong one. “Isn’t that why you’re staying here?”

Her nerves prickled.
Stay strong. Stay very strong.
“Yes,” she said, “but you don’t have to be here 24-7.”

“No, I don’t.” A wicked, sexy smile curved his mouth. “I just want to keep an eye on my investment.”

Chapter Two

Zach stroked the underside of Kennedy’s wrist with his thumb. Her pulse thrummed and she could hear the
thud, thud, thud
of her heartbeat in her ears. She couldn’t find the strength to pull away from his mesmerizing touch.

She could accept his presence during the day. They’d have a professional distance built into their unexpected reunion. Painters, demo experts, carpenters, and her cousin Caleb would create a perfect daytime barrier. And Zach would have plenty of corporate work to keep him occupied. But to have only a few walls separating them while they slept? To have him hear her nighttime ritual? To know the closeness and intimacy of sharing space again?

Inconceivable.

Impractical.

Impossible.

Zach’s mahogany eyes darkened to a dangerous shade and he tightened his grip. “You might not love me, Kennedy, but you still want me.”

Her cheeks burned as if she’d been slapped. Kennedy jerked her hand from his. “Do what you want, but don’t expect more from me than what’s written in my contract.” She swiped her shaking fingers on her jeans, then stared into his implacable eyes.

The air seemed to hang between them. Time stretched for an eternity as they glared at each other. As each second ticked by, Kennedy found it difficult to breathe, and her stomach hurt as if she’d been kicked.

“Our contract applies to the renovation. While you’re swinging hammers and gutting outbuildings, I’ll take care of Tanner Enterprises. After hours I expect you’ll change your mind about taking me back to your bed soon enough.” He cocked his head toward the bike. “Get your helmet. We’re using what’s left of the daylight to finish our inspection.”

“Whatever you say.” She pitched her voice low as she fought to conceal her emotions, but her entire body rebelled, proving Zach’s words true no matter her denial.

She broke off from his dark brown gaze and the hot desire flickering in his black pupils to walk to his motorcycle. Behind her, the earth crunched beneath Zach’s feet as if he were a giant walking across small villages, not moss and twigs and dirt.

Kennedy slipped her helmet over her head and waited for Zach to slide on the motorcycle before fusing her body to his for the ride.

He looked over his shoulder. “Hang on. I plan to go fast.” He smiled and gunned the engine.

Kennedy clung to his waist and hid her head behind his broad back as he increased their speed and drove to the main highway. The drive to the hot springs had reawakened her craving and her long neglected urges. Not for any man. But for Zach.

The next hour would be unbearable. The next two to three months? Excruciating.

She squeezed her eyes and thought of icebergs, glaciers, and snowstorms. Anything to stop the maddening compulsion to give in to her physical attraction to her relentless, hot and sexy ex-lover.

Zach was right. Time and distance had only camouflaged her need.

Sixty minutes later, Zach parked his V-rod in front of the lodge. The sun had dipped behind the mountains and the air had turned uncomfortably cold. A cold that couldn’t ice the heat running through Kennedy’s veins.

“We’ll need two more crews to finish by December,” Zach said after they got off the bike. He took Kennedy’s helmet, his fingers lightly touching her hand.

A tiny shiver traveled through her skin and tiptoed into her belly. Her thighs trembled and her heartbeat kicked up a notch.
Keep focused on business.
She inhaled a slow breath, waited for her pulse to steady and her legs to stop shaking.

“I agree.” She moved with careful grace to the lodge. “I’ll post the jobs online tomorrow and get the word out on the street. Plenty of people need jobs. We’ll have no problem filling the slots.”

He opened the door. “Excellent.”

Kennedy stepped inside. The sawhorses and plats of wood had turned a ghostly cast of gray in the scant light breaking through the large floor-to-ceiling windows she’d installed. She shivered and tucked her numb fingers under her arms to warm them.

“I want additional security.” Zach snapped the lock into place, then glanced at her. “I like to protect my assets.”

Kennedy inhaled his evocative scent of man. Heat emanated from his tight muscular form. He was close. Too close. Her pulse quickened and her inner frost dissolved. Even her breasts ached with the memory of his touch.

His mouth curved into a small smile as if he could see her body’s reaction to him.

She moved to the ancient front desk and leaned against the scarred edge. “I also protect my assets.”

“Where do you want me to sleep?” he asked.

His voice sounded warm and inviting, deep and dreamy, and as tantalizing as rich whipped cream over hot chocolate sauce.

She bit her lower lip. “Rooms 101 to 125 are available. Take your pick.” She’d not allow his masculinity and aura of sexual power chip away her resolve to remain detached.

He glanced toward her wing. “After you.”

She hurried to the wing of rooms where she’d cobbled together the makings of a rudimentary apartment. The long stretch of faded carpet and peeling wallpaper seemed to shrink as she approached her living quarters. She rarely closed her door, but now she regretted her lack of formality.

Zach craned his neck and glanced over her shoulder. “Still don’t like to make the bed?”

Her cheeks heated. Her lack of housekeeping skills had always been a point of contention between them. “There’s no need,” she said. “I’m just going to rumple it up again.”

“It’s more fun when there’s two to twist the sheets.”

“It’s easier not to argue about who should make the bed.”

“You left the television on.” He shook his head. “Still afraid of the dark and things that go bump in the night?”

She watched the play of memories flash through his dark eyes, a hint of the man she’d once known behind his commanding corporate mask. Zach had often found her sleeping in front of the television with the sound turned low enough to hear, but not so high as to interfere with her dreams. He’d curl beside her and kiss her to wakefulness and a night of playful lovemaking.

Kennedy shoved the warm memory deep down, then pointed. “Room 125’s that way.” She could put him at the other end of the hall and keep his sexy body as far away as possible.

He scanned the distance and tapped his chin with his index finger. “Is 105 available? 101 is.” He walked across the hall, opened the door, and faced her. “You want something to eat before you tuck in for the night?”

Zach looked incredibly delectable as he leaned against the doorway. His shirt strained against his tightly packed muscles and flat abdomen. His jeans clung to his powerful legs and lean hips.

A hunger for something different than food curled low in her belly. Thank goodness she’d stashed goodies and wine in her room’s small fridge.

She injected her voice with a nuance of indifference. “No thanks, but help yourself to what’s in the kitchen. There’s junk food in the main pantry—bread, deli meats, and condiments in the fridge. Coffeemaker is on the counter. Sodas, water, beer, wine—whatever you want.” He could have whatever he wanted except her. She wasn’t on the menu.

“I’ll do that,” he said, his voice equally calm. “Sleep well, Kennedy.”

“I’ll see you in the morning. My crew arrives at seven sharp,” she said before stepping inside and closing her door.

She heard his door’s answering echo as she clicked her lock into place. Her heartbeat drummed against her temples—thinking about him getting undressed, showering, slipping beneath the covers half-naked only a few steps away unnerved her. Kennedy pressed her forehead against the cool wood.

Sleeping would be about as easy to accomplish as nailing cotton candy to wet wood.

…

Tossing the covers off her tired bones and hauling her body out of bed the following morning had taken a herculean effort. But Kennedy had set her iPhone alarm for o’dark thirty in the predawn hours for two reasons. One: Skype Michael in Italy. Two: Hurry up and start working before Zach woke up.

After pushing her feet into her favorite pair of fuzzy slippers, Kennedy grabbed her laptop and walked to the kitchen. She brewed a single serve cup of her favorite flavored coffee, then powered up her computer. Within five minutes, Michael’s handsome face filled most of the screen. They greeted each other, his voice not as strong as she remembered.

“I’m sorry about the diagnosis,” she said. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit.” Michael shrugged his still broad shoulders. “But the doctors caught it early. And I’m not wasting time feeling sorry for myself.”

Her nose prickled as she held back tears. What could she say to soften the sting of his illness? Not a damn thing. She sniffed, and he shot her a warning look. “Kennedy, don’t you dare cry. It’s bad enough hearing my Mom crying when she thinks I can’t hear.”

She swiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Gotcha. No tears.” Not in front of him. Never would she let him see her weep over this terrible disease that would one day rob her of his presence.

“Thanks. How’s the reno going? You and Zach playing nice?”

“I won’t lie.” Kennedy sipped her coffee, looking at her computer screen as she watched the parade of Sullivans traipsing into the Italian villa’s expansive living room. “Quite the surprise you sprung on me.”

“Zach’s the best man for the job,” he said. “Besides, y’all needed to get in the same room again ’cause I can’t have my best friends fighting anymore.”

Kennedy had wanted to lambast Michael for bringing Zach back into her life, but hearing the happiness in her friend’s voice meant pretending all was well. Clearly, he needed Zach and her to bury their differences and move on. “No worries. We’ll get along fine.” They’d get along super fine as long as Zach concentrated on running his father’s corporation and not on seducing her.

“That’s what I want to hear.” Michael’s answering smile glowed, crinkling the corners of his hazel eyes.

Kennedy heard footfalls coming down the hall and watched Michael crane his neck to look over her shoulder. “Whoa, Zach’s staying at the resort?” he asked, lifting his brows.

She touched the computer screen, wishing Michael was in the room with her, not thousands of miles away, then shot a glance over her shoulder as Zach walked into the kitchen. Her heart rate ramped up. “Yes.”

Unfortunately.

“Cool.”

So not cool. Especially when every girl part she possessed started dancing a hallelujah high kick whenever Zach was within a few feet of her. And especially not when she could smell his delicious male scent as he joined her at the counter.

“Hey, you get the forms filled out for the Tallahassee University Hospital clinical study?” Zach asked.

“Dude, I already got one Mom, I don’t need you ragging on me, too.”

“What study?” Kennedy asked.

Zach put one arm on either side of Kennedy, framing her with his muscular body. “Clinical research trial in Florida’s Tallahassee Research Hospital.”

She could see the fine, golden hairs on Zach’s muscular forearms, felt the heat pulsing between her and his chest. One small move backward would close the scant distance between them. Oh, how she longed to rest her head in the curve of his broad shoulder, feel the comforting stroke of his hand through her hair.

Instead she leaned closer to the computer screen. “You want to do this?” she asked Michael.

“Of course he does.” Zach spoke for Michael. “Biostem’s patented technology can help produce neural stem cells in the brain. That treatment combined with occupational therapy gives Michael great odds for busting this disease’s ass.”

Naturally, Zach would want to fix the problem, find a way to change reality. But she’d learned all too well that not every problem was fixable. Still, she wanted to believe in miracles where Michael was concerned. “Sounds promising,” she said.

“What’s more promising is my fantasy football league lineup,” Michael said, obviously not interested in discussing his illness anymore. “You got your picks in, Zach?”

“Yup. My team’s going to kick your team’s fucking butt.”

“Guys, watch your language,” Michael’s sister Jessie called as she stepped into the screen’s view. “Kids in the room.”

Kennedy laughed as Jessie’s four-year-old son Robert chanted the F bomb while his younger sister Serena gurgled
butt
repeatedly, giggling.

“This from the sister who swears like a Marine,” Michael said.

“I’ve toned it down a lot—besides I
am
a Marine,” Jessie said, then disappeared from their view as she corralled her children and marched them out of the laptop’s Skype feed.

Michael shook his head. “She may not be on active duty anymore, but that IED explosion didn’t steal her spunk or her potty mouth.”

“I heard that!” Jessie yelled.

Zach chuckled and a wave of nostalgia crested through Kennedy. She’d missed the ease and familiarity among her friends. Six years ago, Jessie’s injuries had forced her to give up her career in the Marines, but she continued to use her skills as an explosives expert for her husband Blake’s Hollywood action hero movie franchise. And she’d claimed all the happiness she deserved with a man who loved her with a fierce intensity.

Long ago Kennedy had believed in that fairy tale as well, but her dreams had turned to dust.

Zach pushed away from the counter, grabbed a cup and brewed a single cup of coffee, then returned to sit next to Kennedy. “Once a Marine, always a Marine.”