Her Unexpected Detour (3 page)

He pushed the driver’s side door open, jumped out, and made a careful dash up to the inn’s covered porch before she had a chance to object. With a sigh, Kayla pushed her own door open and slid to the ground. What good would an umbrella do her? Keep her from getting more soaked?

Determined he not mistake her for the princess type, Kayla carefully made her way up the icy porch steps without him—no small feat in these heels of hers. But soon she was out of the pelting sleet and standing before a large, ornate oak door. A placard displaying the inn’s name hung right of the entryway just above the doorbell, giving the entrance a classy look. But much of the rest of the porch had chipped and peeling paint, making the place look a bit more tattered.

Oh, but what a little paint would do for the place. The porch itself hinted of comfort, with a variety of small hooks affixed to its ceiling for hanging porch swings and planters. And the view was nothing short of spectacular. In the distance, rolling green hills were skirted by fields on one side and a thick woods on the other. Flower beds starting to awake from their winter’s slumber lay nestled up against every inch of the inn’s frontage. And inside them, endless clusters of daffodils.

Daffodils. An all-too-familiar ache pricked at Kayla’s heart. She looked away from the ice-covered sunny yellow buds and blinked like mad, intent on keeping her composure. When would she ever get over this ridiculous reaction to some stupid flo—

“I thought I told you to wait in the truck.”

She spun around to find Brent with a red and gold golf umbrella in hand. But as he took in the look on her face, the severe angle of his furrowed brows softened, then inverted. Dang it, she hated it when people looked at her like that. Like she was hurting. Because she wasn’t, not anymore.

At least, that’s what she told herself, each and every day.

Kayla turned from him and swiped a knuckle under each eye. “Did you? I must have missed that part.”

His footsteps drew closer, and a fuzzy yellow towel settled on her shoulders. “Here. Why don’t you come inside while I try to track down Ruby?”

Again, Mr. Billy Goat Gruff provided a glimpse of his soft underbelly. She was both touched by the gesture and unsettled by it. Kayla wasn’t the needy type, and she sure as heck didn’t intend to start playing one.

“Thank you. So, who’s Ruby? Wait—you call your grandma by her first name?”

A soft chuckle greeted her ears. “Trust me, she wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Confident her moment of weakness had passed, Kayla turned and caught her hero wearing an honest-to-goodness smile. It crinkled the corners of his eyes and tugged at his hairline, bringing a softness to his features she might otherwise have thought impossible.

He looked younger, approachable. Sexy. For a moment, Kayla forgot how to breathe.

But when he met her gaze, his former stoicism returned. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you inside before you catch your death.”

As she watched him walk off without another look back, Kayla wondered if he didn’t secretly wish for her to do just that.

Chapter Four

B
rent held the inn’s front door open and tried his best not to gawk at Kayla’s perfect, soaking wet ass as she stepped inside. Tried, but failed. Just like he had tried to avoid her gaze. Those unassuming blues of hers were going to be the end of him—and his self-control.

He needed that tow truck to get here, and get here now.

“Wow…”

She’d stopped, eyes wide as she took in the entryway. Brent felt a surge of pride in his chest. After all the work he’d done renovating this place, a reaction like that never got old.

“Too seedy for you?”

“Are you kidding me?” she said, still drinking in the view. “This place is amazing. It’s so open, and bright, and wow…”

Kayla wandered toward the parlor, taking her sweet, floral fragrance with her. If the woman’s curiosity was genuine, the room’s historical photographs, eclectic furniture, and vast collection of turn-of-the-century board games were sure to keep her occupied for a few minutes. Which, hopefully, would be enough time for him to track down his grandmother. Because while he hoped the tow truck would get here soon, deep down he knew the likelihood of that was slim to none. So the sooner he found Ruby, the sooner he could do the old bait and switch and leave Kayla behind.

Kayla’s behind
. He dragged a hand over his face. Not what he should be thinking about right now. Later maybe, from the comfort of his own bed. Alone.

“Ruby?” he called, taking the front staircase two steps at a time. Silence greeted him on the second floor. “Ruby?”

Where on earth had she wandered off to on a day like this?

From down below, Brent heard a door open and close. And, judging by the swish that accompanied it, he knew exactly which door it was—one he’d snuck through countless times as a child. Hey, growing boys had to eat. He headed back downstairs, crossed the dining room, and passed through the kitchen’s swinging door. Sure enough, his grandmother stood at one of the island countertops, folding linen napkins.

“Ah, there you are.”

Ruby looked up from her work and smiled. “Brent, honey, it’s so good to see you. Did you get the paint? How was the drive?”

God bless her and her twenty questions, a game she could play with Kayla for the rest of her brief stay. “The paint is in my truck, and the drive was slow.” And treacherous, not that he’d admit it. Wouldn’t want Ruby to worry about him any more than she already did. “Listen, I could really use your help with something so I can get started on that room remodel upstairs.”

“Of course, dear. What do you ne—?”

“Hello? Anybody there?”

Ruby stilled at the sound of the strange voice drifting in from the lobby. “Did your cousin forget to lock the door again?” she said in a harsh whisper. “So help me, I will skin that boy alive the next—”

“Brent?” Kayla called again, her voice closer.

Ruby’s brows rose in unison, creating a cascade of wrinkles on her forehead. Brent shot her a pleading look.

“It’s not what you think, so don’t even start to get your hopes up,” he whispered. Too late, of course—the old woman already had that sparkly-eyed look. With a sigh, he nudged the kitchen door back open and called, “Over here.”

Ruby came to stand by his side. Upon seeing Kayla, towel wrapped around her shoulders and soaked to the bone, his grandmother donned a grin that would have given the Cheshire Cat a run for his money. Brent threw Ruby a warning look, then wiped it from his face before turning back to their guest.

“Kayla, this is my grandmother, Ruby, the owner of this inn. Ruby, this is Kayla, who was dumb enough to be out on the road today and slammed her car into that new fence post of Bob’s I just replaced.”

Kayla’s cheeks turned pink. Brent felt a small stab of guilt but pushed it aside. It was better if she didn’t become too attached to him.

“Now is that any way to talk to a young lady? Honestly, Brent, where are your manners?” Ruby swatted him in the arm, then turned her attention back to Kayla. “Hello dear, so very nice to meet you. I’m terribly sorry to hear about your accident. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you. Things could have ended a whole lot worse—it’s awfully slick out there.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t have been driving in the first place,” Brent said under his breath.

“Maybe I didn’t have a choice,” Kayla muttered back.

Ruby eyed them both. “I take it your car is stuck?”

“Yes,” Kayla said. “But my brother called for a tow truck. It should be on its way.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on them getting your car back on the road any time soon, dear. With weather like this, it may be a while.” Ruby studied Kayla for a moment, the look in her eyes soft. Motherly. “Do you have a bag with you? Perhaps some dry clothes to change into?”

“No, actually I don’t,” said Kayla. “My trip to Mount Pleasant was sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

“Well, we can’t have you standing around all soaking wet, now can we?” Ruby said.

“But I—”

“No buts, young lady.” Ruby took Kayla by the elbow. “Come along upstairs with me, and we’ll see if we can’t find something to make do while we get your clothes dried. And I think a hot shower will do you a world of good.”

“I really wouldn’t want to put you out.”

Kayla shot Brent a pleading look, but he just shrugged and offered her a look of mock innocence. He knew better than to argue with Ruby, especially when she was in mothering mode. If there was one thing Ruby loved more than the inn, it was mothering people. And who was Brent to deny her such a thing, especially when it meant taking one all-too-alluring little vixen off his hands?

K
ayla stood beneath a massaging stream of hot water in one of the Checkerberry’s amazing upstairs suites and felt like she’d died and gone to heaven. The cloud of steam swirling around her only added to the illusion. She hadn’t realized how cold she’d been until she first stepped under the hot water’s spray and nearly cried out from the pain. It was like a hundred bees, stinging her all at once. Eventually, though, she’d managed to ease her way in and thawed out.

Now warm and squeaky-clean—thanks to the aromatic array of soaps, shampoos, and conditioners Ruby kept stocked in here—Kayla was still reluctant to turn off the faucet. Once her shower ended, she’d have to face the real world again. An unfair world, where innocent employees got framed, cars ate fence posts, and heroes were handsome grouches.

Not exactly anything she wanted to hurry back to.

But after a few more minutes, her growing guilt for hogging the inn’s hot water got the best of her. She dried off, then dug into her purse for an emergency hairbrush and what little makeup she had with her. Not that it really mattered. No one around here cared what she looked like, or knew any better. So far they’d only ever seen her at her worst; anything had to be an improvement.

Ah, but that wasn’t entirely true. Brent had seen her at the diner. The memory of their encounter instantly came to mind. His solid chest. Strong arms. Stormy gray eyes. Grouch or not, there was something about his intense gaze that woke up long-dormant parts of her. Girly parts. Parts that had absolutely no business waking up in the middle of this utter mess called Friday.

Still, a little mascara never hurt anyone…

Fresh-faced and with a towel wrapped securely around her, Kayla cracked open the bathroom door and peered out. Just as Ruby had promised, her soaking wet clothes were gone. The only article of clothing in sight was a fluffy white terrycloth robe, neatly folded and perched on the edge of the suite’s bed, with a handwritten note on top.

Make yourself at home. This robe should keep you warm while your clothes are in the wash. —Ruby

“Wash?” Kayla whispered, her newfound calm starting to slip away. Washing would take too long. What if the tow truck arrived before her clothes were done? She couldn’t exactly jump into the tow truck to show the driver to her car dressed like this.

Kayla closed her eyes and dragged a long, slow breath in and then back out.
Think positive
. Maybe the wash would be done before Jimmy and his tow truck came to her rescue. That’s what Ruby had suggested, anyway. Until then, she’d just hang out up here. Maybe take a little nap.

Her gaze shifted to the bed. It did look awfully inviting, with its patchwork quilt in varying shades of coastal blues and the cluster of matching pillows above. She sat down on its edge to test it out. Not too hard, not too soft. Yep, the perfect mattress for napping on a rainy day.

A knock sounded. “All better, dear?”

Kayla sprang from the bed and hurried to the door. She pulled it open a crack, peeked out to make sure Ruby was the only one in sight, and then opened it another foot or so.

“Yes, thank you. You were right—I feel a million times better.”

“Wonderful. Then why don’t you come downstairs and get a little something to eat now?”

Kayla glanced up and down the hall. Could she really walk out there, wearing only a robe? That’s when she looked down, and realized she had yet to put on the robe. With a grimace, she shifted her towel-covered torso so that more of it was hidden by the door.

“Um, thanks, Ruby. But I’m not really that hungry.”

“Nonsense. After all the shivering you did, we need to get some food in your belly. Wouldn’t want you fainting from low blood sugar, now would we?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Good. I’ve got some snacks set out in the dining room for you. Come down when you’re ready.”

Ruby shuffled away without another look back, and Kayla knew the battle had been lost. Why hadn’t she just asked Ruby to bring her the food? Because that would have been rude, she thought, and would have made her look like some helpless, needy little girl. Of which she was neither.

She shut the door and crossed the room to trade her towel for the robe. Robe? A tent was more like it. The darned thing was so big she had to roll up both sleeves just to find her hands. Kayla wrapped it around her as best she could and checked her reflection in the mirror. She looked…hideous.

Doesn’t matter
, she reminded herself. She wasn’t there to impress anyone. Especially not the hunky handyman.

Now if only she could make herself believe that.

F
inally.

Brent loved his grandmother, but when it came to getting work done, she was the politest disruption alive. Not that he could really blame her. Ruby was a social being—she thrived on interacting with others. Which made the off-season a particularly difficult time for her. And him, when his cousin wasn’t here to keep her company.

Where the hell is Miles, anyway?
he wondered as he hurried inside with the last of the paint supplies. Damn idiot better not have slid into a ditch, too. Because if that was the case, he could just walk his ass back to the inn—Brent was already an hour behind in his work. And just because the rain had delayed their painting of the barn didn’t mean there weren’t plenty of rooms inside that still needed a few coats of paint.

Which was probably why his cousin was nowhere to be found.

Brent headed for the stairs but stopped at their base to allow his descending grandmother to pass.

“Hungry, dear?”

“No. Thank you.”

“
Tsk, tsk, tsk
. Going to waste away.” She patted his belly as she passed.

Not likely
, he thought with a grin, remembering the veritable feast o’ grease he’d consumed earlier at EAT.

“If you change your mind,” she said without stopping, “there are snacks in the dining room. Kayla will be down shortly.”

Christ. Leave it to Ruby to take any opportunity she got to try and play matchmaker. Because that’s exactly what this offering of a snack was. He eyed the staircase.

The coast was still clear.

With a new sense of urgency, he made his way up the stairs with both arms full of paint supplies. When he reached the oversized landing, which also served as a sitting area, he paused. Looked and listened.

Still no sign of her. Relief washed over Brent. A few more steps and he’d be past her room. Once he made it to the Blueberry Suite, he could close the door and lose himself in his work. If he were lucky, the tow truck would be here and long gone with her before he finished.

And that would be the only way he’d get lucky today. Judging by her skittish behavior in the car, no way would Kayla let him get close to her again. Which was for the best, he told himself. Repeatedly.

Two steps past the landing, the bag of rollers and brushes he’d wedged under one arm decided to go Kamikaze. With a curse, he stooped to set down his paint cans, then scrambled to retrieve the AWOL items.

One roller cover. Two. Damn, where was the third? He scanned the landing, then crouched down to check under the nearest furniture.

“Looking for something?”

Brent’s head jerked up at the sound and slammed into the edge of an end table. He bit back a stream of profanity and waited for the stars to disappear from his vision. As they did, he froze.

He’d been right to want to hurry past Kayla’s room. She stood before him now, barefoot and nearly irresistible in a white, oversized bathrobe. Adorable and tantalizing all at the same time. How was that even possible?

“Uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat and shifted his gaze back to the floor. “Rogue paint roller. I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.”

“You mean this?”

He shouldn’t have looked. Should have kept his eyes fixed on the floor before him. But, hey, he was male and had a pulse. So his traitorous gaze flashed to her as she bent down to grasp the roller cover at her feet. The top of her robe gaped at the movement, providing him another accidental peek at her cleavage, still rosy pink from her shower.

She gripped the base of the tube, stood, and brought it to him. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

He collected the rest of his supplies and headed for the hall without another word. The less interaction he had with Kayla, the less tempted he’d be to get to know her. He’d given up long ago on dating or allowing himself to care about anyone outside their family, and now was definitely not the time to go changing that. The tow truck would be here soon enough, and then she’d be gone.