Here Comes Trouble (21 page)

“You staying down in town, then? At—what’s her name again, Kirby? At her place?”

He nodded, then tried a smile. “I’m kind of burned out on the whole luxury suite thing.”

Dan chuckled, and things finally felt at least something resembling normal. “Never did understand how anyone could get tired of that, but if it’s just sitting there unused…” He reached out and took the card.

Brett knew even taking that much was hard for him, so he joked, “Well, there are a few other benefits to staying down in town that the resort doesn’t provide.”

Dan’s grin was knowing. “Now that’s more like it.” He slid the card in his back pocket. “You gonna tell me something about this mystery woman who’s already got you whipped?”

Brett let that one go. “I’ll do better than that. I’d like you to meet her.” If nothing else, he thought, maybe Dan would at least understand why Brett was sticking in Vermont for a while. He didn’t think his friend would behave as obnoxiously in person. At least he hoped not. It had been an interesting conversation so far. Regardless, he thought, Kirby could hold her own. It was yet another reason why he was anxious to get back to the inn.

He checked his watch. “Speaking of which, I need to get in touch with her, anyway.” His forgotten dinner plans resurfaced, but though he regretted having to put them off—again—it was important to him that Kirby meet Dan as well. “How long are you planning to stay?”

“Well, since I’m out here, I thought I’d watch you play. Been a while since I’ve done that.”

“Because you work too hard.”

Dan grinned. “No such thing, brother.”

“At the very least, you have to admit you need to get out and play more.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? Hell, if I had a clue how to play the damn game, I’d sit in on a few hands.”

Brett didn’t mention that the buy-in was ten thousand dollars. “I’ve told you many times, I’d be more than happy to teach you. I hear there’s a vacant seat at the tables back in Vegas.”

Dan shook his head. “It’ll take bigger britches than mine to fill your seat.”

“So, if you’re out here, who’s minding the store?”

“I’m handling things, don’t you worry. That’s what cell phones and laptops are for. Everything is under control.” When Brett continued to look dubious, Dan added, “Wasn’t it you who told me to delegate? See? I do listen to you.”

Brett smiled, but privately he wondered just how bad things were for Dan. The one way he was just like his old man was in his work ethic. Neither of the Bradley men put much stock in leisure time. In fact, Brett was still stunned that when Dan senior had retired to Palm Springs, he hadn’t been back in Vegas before the month was out. Either that or had started his own new company out there. But, as far as Brett knew, the elder Bradley was happily playing golf and being the much-sought-after companion to any number of retired widows and divorcées.

He also wondered if Dan senior had any idea of how bad things were.

Brett didn’t give voice to any of that. If he wasn’t willing to be a partner in his friend’s business, then he had no right to tell him how to run it. Still, that wouldn’t keep him from worrying.

“Well,” he said, at length, “at least something of what I said is penetrating that thick head of yours. Why don’t you head on up and relax a bit. I’m going to head back to the inn, talk with Kirby, find out what’s on tap. I’ll give you a ring so we can meet up later? I would like her to get the chance to meet you.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Dan shot a glance over his shoulder, in the direction of the lobby that was anything but calm and relaxed.

He caught Brett looking at him as he glanced back and replied to the unasked question. “Maksimov’s here. I spotted him in the lobby. He was looking for you. Have you two talked?”

Brett shook his head. “Not yet. In fact, that was what I was on my way back here to do. I had a message someone was waiting to see me; I assumed it was him.”

“Well, we both know why he’s here.”

Brett shrugged. “Won’t net him anything. He wants to waste a plane ticket, nothing I can do about that.”

“So…you’re not thinking about—”

“No,” Brett said flatly, not even letting Dan finish the thought. “I told you, this is a one and done.”

“Charity, right. Speaking of which, when you get back at the tables, it’s like I said when we were on the phone, you know they’re all going to come begging.” He laughed, but there was no warmth in it. “Hell, they’ll probably all line up some kind of ‘very special’ charity for you to play for, if that’s what it takes. You know it’s going to start things up all over again.”

“I was well aware of that, so I made certain everyone knew, from the first conference call, that this was a one-time thing. They can come after me all they want, but I won’t be taking their calls or scheduling any meetings. Besides, I’m almost an entire country away from there now.” He saw the pain flash through Dan’s eyes and felt a twinge. But he remained resolute. “This is, for all intents, my turf. I’ve invited them here as my guests, handed opportunities to the few who I wanted to handle things.”

“There will be return invites, you have to know that. They’ll sweeten the deals whatever way it takes and you’re handing them the charity angle. They’ll make you feel guilty for not using your celebrity to fix everything from third world hunger to saving the humpback whale if it will get your name back headlining their event marquee. Buy-ins are down since you left, and that’s not changing anytime soon. Takes time to groom new superstars and no one is going to match your record for a very long time. As long as you’re breathing, you’re live bait.”

“If they want to waste their breath, fine. Hopefully the dead silence they get in return will give them a clue. And not being around town won’t hurt. Out of sight, out of mind.”

Dan snorted. “Right. And if it helps you sleep at night, then sure, you’ll be yesterday’s news any day now.”

“Trust me, when they realize that I’m not coming out of retirement, they will move along quickly to latch on to the new up-and-comers. Even if it’s not something to make bank today or tomorrow, they have to move on. It’s just good business. And they’re nothing if not good businessmen.”

Something flashed through Dan’s eyes, and once again, Brett felt the nick of guilt pinch his heart.

After a beat, Dan said, “So, you coming in to break Maksimov’s heart?”

Brett shook his head. “Later. You go on up. Don’t let him sideline you trying to get to me.”

Dan just shrugged it off. “Give me a little credit here.”

“Okay, just trying to save you the grief.”

“I can take care of myself.”

But Brett didn’t miss the second glance at the lobby. He thought about changing his plans, heading inside now to deal with Maksimov. But he was already going to lose dinner alone with Kirby, he wasn’t about to give the rest of his time away to the annoying Russian. “Okay. I’ll call you in a little bit. Dinner at the inn tonight.”

“I hope she’s a better cook than you.”

Brett smiled. He wasn’t about to throw Kirby under any bus. Besides, he thought he made a pretty damn good chicken marsala. “You won’t leave hungry.”

Dan smiled back, but Brett could still see the underlying tension. He knew he should resist the urge to call Vanetta. He didn’t want her worrying. But she was his only other source. Woman knew every damn thing that went on in that town. Possibly because she’d lived there longer than anyone still alive. Brett didn’t know for sure; he’d never questioned her sources or how she kept track of so much flotsam and jetsam while simultaneously and almost singlehandedly keeping the boarding house running. She probably new more about Dan’s business than Dan did. And his, for that matter. So…he’d make the call.

There was more than one way to help out a friend.

K
irby pushed her glasses up on top of her head and rubbed her eyes. She’d been going over the revised business plan her accountant had dropped off a few hours ago after his meeting with the bank. She was satisfied with the outcome, but her eyes were crossing at this point. She needed a break.

Naturally, her thoughts strayed directly to Brett. He’d been a guest of her inn now going on three weeks, but most of the last two he’d spent at the resort. Working to help her out, she knew, but that didn’t mean she selfishly didn’t miss his presence here. They’d had a few meals together and a couple of well-timed, very steamy, shower interludes, but most of the former had been spent talking about the charity event planning and the latter had been spent…well, not talking much at all.

She’d told herself time and again that it was for the best, their keeping things light, casual, and spontaneous. She was already far more invested in him emotionally than was healthy, knowing, as she did, that he’d move on after the event was over. She was forever grateful for the leg up he was offering her, the chance to keep her business afloat…so it was really wrong of her to want more. To want it all, frankly. She knew that.

But it didn’t seem to stop her from wanting anyway. Dammit.

And who could really blame her? Other than the fact that he was thirty years old and had no clue what he was going to do with the rest of his life, he was perfect. And hell, she hadn’t really embarked on realizing her own dreams until she was five years past that mark herself. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t already made quite a success out of himself. She just wished…

Well, she wished for things she couldn’t have, is what she wished for. That he’d miraculously decide to go from the glitz and glamour of a high-rolling lifestyle in Vegas to wanting to live in a rural mountain village in Vermont. With her.

Yeah. That was going to happen.

As she reminded herself. Far too many times. Every day. Hourly at times.

She clicked the reservation screen up on her computer again and looked, once more, at the fully booked schedule she had coming up. In two days, they’d start coming in, and by the weekend, when the event started, she’d be fully packed. And finally, mercifully, she’d be too busy to think about pretty much anything other than keeping her guests happy.

And that would make her happy. Lonely, perhaps. But happy.

Dammit.

Which was the other thing. She’d been perfectly content since coming east, to forge her own path, make her own choices, rule her own roost. Alone. It had been both a relief and a triumph. She knew she’d forge new relationships as time passed, both with the locals and in her private life as well. She hadn’t come here determined to be a social shut-in or anything. Far from it. She just hadn’t really seen herself falling into another long-term, serious relationship. Yet. Or maybe even ever.

She’d more or less left that part up to fate. So it seemed kind of unfair, she thought, being as she’d been so open-minded and honest and decent about the whole thing, for fate to go and hand her the perfect man on a platter…only, too bad, you can’t keep him. You can only lust and need and taste and remember what it was like to want that in your life on a regular basis.

Damn damn dammit.

She sighed and clicked off the screen, then groaned as she turned to look at the clock only to feel how stiff her neck had gotten. She’d been hunched over this desk for what felt like days. She shoved her chair back and stood, rubbing her lower back and rotating her shoulders and neck a few times.

Time for a shower and then a hunt through the kitchen to see what she felt like dredging up for dinner. Her thoughts got sort of tangled up on that shower part as she walked out of the office, memories of the very wonderful one she’d shared with Brett—had it been yesterday? Seemed like forever ago now—swimming through her mind. He was attentive, and he made her laugh. And moan. A lot of moaning, really. She sighed and detoured the other direction, toward the kitchen. She was in no mood to stand in the shower and feel sorry for herself. She was just pathetic enough at the moment to indulge in a good, long, pity sob, and there was simply no excuse for it.

Her inn was going to be full, the air had a distinct touch of chill to it of late. At night, anyway. If her luck really was turning, then possibly by the time the event was over and all the attendant hoopla had ended along with it, there might be snow on the ground. Or, at least enough of a nip in the air during the daylight hours for the resort to finally put their bazillion-dollar snow-making system to work covering the newly designed slopes.

“Think positive,” she murmured under her breath. “Optimistic thoughts only.” Straightening her shoulders and resolutely not thinking about showers, muscled chests, or big, strong hands slipping and sliding all over her steam-slicked skin, she marched into the kitchen…and went straight to the wine rack. So she needed a little assistance with the resolutely not thinking part. “Sue me,” she muttered.

After pouring a half a glass, she savored a few sips while looking out the rear kitchen window. Her gaze strayed to the big oak. Hard to believe it had only been a few weeks since she’d chased after that damn kitten. It seemed almost forever ago now. So much had happened since then. Her quiet little life here was anything but anymore.

Her lips curved in a slow smile. In fact, if her entire body could curl into a big smile, it would have. Sure, she was tired, but it was the good kind of tired that came from the hard work she’d been waiting for months to put in every day. After almost a year spent in the hard physical labor of getting the place into shape and ready to open, it had been difficult bordering on insanity-making to find herself sitting around…waiting for guests, for snow, for…something, anything, to happen. With no funds to continue crossing off anything else on her to-do restoration list, she’d been forced to putter. She was not a good putterer. She was a doer, not a sitter.

And then she’d climbed a tree, almost died; Brett had saved her and shown her a slice of heaven. Nothing had been the same since.

She sighed again, savored another slow sip…but the smile wouldn’t go away. She was happy. As long as she lived in the moment, where there was no room at her inn, and Brett was still in residence, officially anyway, then life was good. Pretty damn good.

She sipped some more…and thought there was something to be said for living in the moment. Enjoying the good parts while they were happening. Not wasting them thinking about the less than good parts that were just out there on the horizon, headed her way. Yep, as long as she was standing here, sipping wine, and happy and content with her world, it didn’t matter what the next day was going to bring.

“Looks like I didn’t need to stop and get this on my way in.”

She startled at the sound of his voice, almost sloshed the rest of her wine on her shirt. And didn’t care in the least. Because she was happy. And living in the moment. And that moment had just grown exponentially even better. Way, way better.

She spun around, knowing she should be smart, play it cool, casual, like a woman who enjoyed his company when he was around, but didn’t think about him incessantly when he wasn’t.

Fat chance. If she’d been happy a moment ago, she was blissful now. So she lived in that moment, too.

“There can never be enough wine,” she said, crossing the kitchen toward him.

His leather jacket hung open to reveal a rumpled T-shirt and well-worn jeans. No leather, butt-framing chaps today. A pity. There was stubble on his cheeks and a decided case of helmet hair going on with his increasingly shaggy locks. She kind of liked him all stubbly and shaggy and rumpled. Made her want to get him into the shower. Or into bed. Or, well, the kitchen table was looking pretty damn good.

Feeling far too giddy and frisky, she set her wineglass down. Half a glass was apparently her limit.

“What else have you got there?” She tipped up on her toes and tried to peek inside the Food Mart paper bag, but he sat it on the counter and spun her into his arms instead.

“Stuff to make chicken Marsala. We’re having company.”

“Company?
We?
”

“Don’t worry, I’m doing the cooking.”

“Was that a less than subtle dig at my mad kitchen skills? Because I do have cans of cream of mushroom soup in the pantry, buster, and I’m not afraid to use them.”

He laughed and tugged her up so her face was closer to his. “I miss you,” he said, rubbed her nose with his, then claimed her mouth in a kiss so hot she was pretty sure her pink toenail polish got a little scorched.

It only took half a second to return the kiss with equal enthusiasm.

Words were beyond her when he finally lifted his head. She looked into his twinkling green eyes, and all she could think was, I’m going to miss you, too. Something fierce. She shoved that thought right out of her head. This was her moment—their moment—dammit, and she was going to live it to its fullest. This was no time to contemplate the less than rosy future they weren’t going to be sharing. Besides, apparently there was a dinner to prepare. And company coming.

But before she could ask him what the plan was, he said, “Sorry I was AWOL all day.”

“I just figured you got caught up in more planning meetings.”

“I snuck out early,” he said, “with every intention of coming back here and stealing you away for a few hours.”

“What happened? Would it be something to do with the company we’re having for dinner?”

“No, actually, that part came later. I…I was heading back here, but ended up taking a random turn off the main road and climbing into the hills for a little impromptu ride.”

She could hardly be miffed that he hadn’t asked her along. He was well aware of her comfort level regarding riding shotgun on his motorcycle. But still…“How was it?”

Surprisingly, his eyes lit up with some kind of…well, inner joy was the description that came to mind.

“That good, huh?” she said, unable to keep from smiling right back.

“Better.”

“Well, the mountains are a pretty spectacular backdrop, though even better in the spring when things get green again.”

“It was a gorgeous drive, but that’s not what made it better.”

She cocked her head. “So…’splain it to me already.”

He scooped her up against his chest, wrapping his arms around her to keep her feet dangling a foot off the ground. He spun them both around, making her squeal, and him laugh. Then he parked her backside on the counter and slid her hands around his neck as he moved between her thighs.

He braced his hands on the counter on either side of her hips. “We need to talk.”

Surprised by the unusually ominous statement, her fingertips, which had been toying with the shaggy hair at the nape of his neck, stilled. “About?”

“So many things.” He tipped his head back as if trying to corral all of his thoughts, and when he looked at her again, his expression was serious…but that banked excitement was still alive in his eyes. It couldn’t be horrible if he was excited about it, could it? Unless he was excited about some opportunity to go back and play poker in Vegas again.

She tensed, despite trying to remain casual. She’d known, after all, that this part was coming. She’d just thought she had a little more time, that was all. But if he was already thinking about the next thing on the horizon, she could hardly blame him for being excited about it. She might wish he shared that enthusiasm with someone else. Anyone else, quite frankly. But given all he’d done for her, she could hardly refuse to be there for him when he so obviously wanted to share his big news.

That also explained the long, spontaneous bike ride. He probably needed to figure out how he was going to break his news to her.

“And?”

He leaned in and kissed the side of her temple. Then he kept his face next to hers, pressing his cheek against the side of her head. “And my very oldest and closest friend, Dan, flew in and surprised me this afternoon. So I invited him over to dinner. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t mind.” She thought she might scream from the tension building inside of her. Did he not have any clue how badly he was torturing her at that moment? “Is that what it was you wanted to tell me? Something about Dan?”

“I want you to meet him, but no, there’s other stuff I want to talk about. I had thought a bottle of wine, some Marsala, some conversation. But then Dan was there, so now…”

“Dinner, and company.”

“Right.”

“Are you going back to the hotel with him afterward?”

He shook his head. “I was planning to stay here.”

She didn’t even try to ignore the hot little thrill that sent shivers down her spine. “Should I get another room ready for your friend?”

“I gave him my suite. He’ll enjoy it.” He lifted his hands to her face, pushed her hair back, and then framed her cheeks with his palms. “Not that I was trying to keep a paying guest from being under your roof…but I kind of selfishly wanted you all to myself for tonight.”

“As it happens, I’m feeling a bit selfish myself.” She smiled as he leaned in to kiss her again; then she swatted him across the chest as soon as he straightened.

“What was that for?”

“Taunting me with this big talk you want to have, then telling me I have to wait. Like my patience hasn’t been tested enough over the past two weeks.” As soon as that last part left her mouth she could have kicked herself. There was living in the moment, and there was being clingy and needy. And she was both, no doubt about it, but no need to broadcast it.

But then his eyes lit with that mischievous twinkle and she found she didn’t mind so much when he tugged her hips forward so he could snug himself more tightly between her thighs. “How impatient are you feeling, say, right about now?”

What the hell, she thought. And she grinned right back at him. “How long does it take to make chicken Marsala again?”

“You know, Dan is a bachelor…I’m thinking cream of mushroom soup chicken could be just as popular a menu item this evening.”

“Do you?”

He scooped her up off the counter and wrapped her legs around his waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Indeed, I do.”