Her Unexpected Detour (6 page)

“No buts, young man. You skirted your responsibilities earlier, so you’ll just have to make up for it by helping me in the kitchen.”

Kayla giggled as Miles’s shoulders slumped. She yawned, but remained seated. Maybe she could just sit a while longer. Stare at the artwork on the walls or something while her libido cooled back down.

“Ah, a yawn—now that’s the sign of a happy stomach. Brent, why don’t you see that Kayla makes it back to her room okay? Oh, and I don’t want anyone driving home in this mess. You can stay in the Strawberry Suite upstairs; it’s got fresh linens and towels, and Miles, you can take the Bourbon Room down here.

Wait, had Ruby just told Brent to stay in a room upstairs? Near hers? Kayla shot a look of alarm at Brent. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then snapped it shut, his lips drawing into a thin line. Ruby had already turned away and was walking back to the kitchen with a casserole dish in her hands. Miles stood and snagged a few plates, then followed after her, grumbling under his breath about the unfairness of it all along the way.

She watched them go, panic rising in her chest. Upstairs. With Brent.

He cleared his throat, and she looked over to find his trademark scowl had returned. It seemed she wasn’t the only one unsettled by Ruby’s room assignments. He stood and motioned toward the lobby, looking like a schoolboy performing a chore.

“After you.”

“I’m fully capable of finding my way back, thank you very much.”

She lifted her chin in defiance and stood. A zing of pain shot through her left foot, the consequence of sitting with her legs crossed for far too long. Refusing to admit her weakened state, she pushed her own chair back and moved to step around it. Unfortunately, her foot might as well have been made of Jell-O. Brent caught her as she lurched forward.

“That may be up for debate,” he said, amusement playing in his low voice.

His grasp was strong yet gentle, careful yet capable. Just like it’d been at the diner. Kayla swallowed hard and pulled back from him. The pins and needles feeling in her foot was already beginning to subside.

“Really, I’m fine.”

“Regardless, I’ve been tasked with seeing you to your room.”

Tasked. He sure knew how to make a lady feel special. Kayla tested to make sure her ankle would cooperate, then started for the lobby.

“Your grandmother really does rule the roost, doesn’t she?”

“It is her inn.”

Touché.

They mounted the stairs, her before him. He stayed close, as though unconvinced she could make it on her own, and his cologne tickled at her senses. Senses that became more alert with each step she took. Brent remained silent, an unspoken yet palpable tension growing between them.

What
was
it about this man that left her so unsettled?

Kayla reached the landing and continued on to the hall. A few more steps and she’d be away from the tension, away from the scowls. But when they reached her suite she paused, torn. Behind the closed door was a night full of what so many before had held: loneliness. And for the first time in forever, she longed for something more. A playful grin tugged at her lips.

“So, you’ve been assigned the room beside mine, huh?”

Oh, she was playing with fire, and she knew it. But desperate times called for desperate measures. She couldn’t spend all evening in there, alone with her thoughts and worries. Brent stared down at her and said nothing, his right brow raised but eyes unreadable.

“Oh, that’s right. It’s her inn.” She was taunting him now, and enjoying the heck out of herself. “You know, she’s got you both trained quite well.”

She took a step forward and felt an unexpected surge of confidence when Brent remained in place, albeit with narrowed eyes. Still, he said nothing.

“I am curious, though.” Kayla placed her hands upon his chest. His oh-so-solid chest. “That whole thing about treating me like royalty? Just how far does that extend?”

“I’m the groundskeeper, nothing more.”

“Hmm. But you’re off the clock now, correct?” Kayla took another step closer, pressing her body lightly into his. “So what do you have planned for after-hours tonight, Mr. Masterson?”

Brent’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “That depends,” he said after a moment, his voice low, rough. “Is this you asking, or the wine?”

Kayla’s gaze shifted to his lips. Definitely not the wine, she knew as her pulse quickened. It may have lowered her defenses, but her mind was clear as a bell. A bell that desperately needed a grand distraction. She stretched up on her tiptoes and brought her lips a whisper away from his.

“Me,” she breathed. “Definitely me.”

His lips parted, but he made no move to kiss her. He was going to turn her down, she realized after a few painfully long seconds. And why not? She’d never tried to seduce a stranger before in her life. Probably looked like a complete idiot, all pressed up against him like this. Besides, just because one hadn’t come up in conversation tonight didn’t mean he didn’t have a girlfriend.

She lowered back down from the balls of her feet and turned toward the door. From the corner of her eye she saw him shift. But instead of reaching past Kayla to open her door and bid her farewell, he stole the clip from her hair. Messy waves tumbled down across her shoulders.

Kayla spun around in surprise. Brent wrapped one hand around her waist while his other slid up the back of her neck to capture a fistful of hair. She sucked in a sharp breath as he gave her hair a not-so-gentle tug, tipping her chin up. The world seemed to grind to a halt as his lips descended upon her exposed neck, then slowly kissed their way to the hollow beneath her ear.

“You want to know my plans?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

Kayla’s heart hammered in her ears. “Yes,” she managed.

“Then open the door and see for yourself.”

Chapter Seven

B
rent watched the sunrise Saturday morning from the safety of the Checkerberry’s faded red barn, elbows on an open half door and coffee cup in hand. The ice storm was over, its menacing clouds gone. The morning sky looked as if it were on fire, the horizon ablaze in orange and yellow—a subtle reminder of the midnight oil he’d burned with Kayla.

Part of him felt guilty about ever stepping foot inside her suite—it wasn’t like him to fraternize with their guests. But how could he when she’d been so easy to please, and so willing to give all he could take? And he’d taken plenty…

He bit back a moan at the memory of her naked body on top of his, blue eyes lit with desire, hair swaying with the rhythm of their hips and skin aglow in the moonlight. Brent had wanted to savor the experience, prolong it, but the urge to devour her was simply too great. And because it’d been forever since he’d been with anyone, he hadn’t been able to hold back for long. In fact, it’d been no surprise to him that when Kayla reached her climax, she’d pulled him right along with her.

They had lain beside each other afterward for several minutes in silence, waiting for their heart rates to slow once more. There had been no guilt, no anxiety, only peace—a feeling nearly foreign to Brent these days.
That
he had been able to savor, the moment made even sweeter when her fingers had laced through his.

Eventually, though, Brent had sat up and slid to the edge of the bed. But instead of letting him slip out into the night, what did Kayla do? Wrapped one of those perfect, silky legs around his and flashed him an “I dare you” smile.

Christ, that smile. He was utterly defenseless against it.

The second time around Brent had taken his time, driving her to the brink then backing off time and again. Not to be outdone, Kayla had done the same to him. By the time they each reached the point of no return again, both were utterly spent. They’d collapsed onto the bed, sweaty and sated.

Brent didn’t remember falling asleep, but awoke some time later to find his arm draped protectively over her slender body, still innocently curled up beside him. Their embrace felt natural, effortless. Perfect.

That’s when he’d made his break for it.

Kayla didn’t belong to him or with him. And while she’d given him a night he’d never forget, it was high time he started trying. Happily ever after didn’t exist in his world, a fact he’d come to grips with long ago.

“You out here hiding from Ruby’s honey-do list, too?”

A smirk tugged at Brent’s lips. “No, Miles, you’re the one who hides from honey-do lists. They’re how I make my living, remember?”

“They’re how you
used
to make your living, up until a month ago.”

“You come out here to lecture me on how to run my business?”

Miles came to stand beside Brent and propped his elbows on the half door as well. How many times had they stood in this exact spot, drinking coffee, sharing insight? Today, though, Miles seemed more serious than usual as he took a sip of his own coffee, his gaze focused on something off in the distance.

“No. I just hate to see you trade a profitable business for…this.”

“She needs my help, Miles.”

“What she needs is to retire.”

“No.” The word came out louder than Brent intended. Somewhere overhead, a startled stowaway bird took flight.

“You think this is what Grandfather would have wanted?” Miles asked. “To watch Ruby work herself to death? And for what? Peanuts?”

“Life isn’t just about money.”

Miles turned to face Brent. “You’re right. Life is about living. And when the shitty economy finally brings this inn to its knees, going under will absolutely kill Ruby. I don’t know about you, but that’s a sight I don’t think I can bear to see.”

“Then do something about it. Invest in some advertising, scope out the competition, see what they’re doing that we’re not.”

Miles shook his head, and a lump formed in Brent’s throat. Ruby couldn’t lose the inn. This place meant everything to her. It was who she was. Hell, it was who they all were. Without it…

“Someone made us an offer.”

“An offer to do what?”

“To buy the place.”

“Buy it?” Brent looked out over the back lawn, toward the trail that led through the woods and down to the pond. How many summers had he and Miles spent down at that pond? Fishing, canoeing, swimming? He struggled to imagine a reality where that pond wasn’t included. “I’ve never thought about who would run the inn after Ruby.”

“Well, they wouldn’t necessarily—wait. Look at me.”

“Huh?”

Brent’s gaze flashed to Miles, whose smirk grew. Shit. Leave it to Miles to read him like a book. Casual as possible, Brent set his coffee down and turned to pick up the nearest tool.

Damn, a broom? That’s the best he could do?

“You did it, didn’t you?”

“Did what, Miles?”

“Took Kayla to bed last night.”

Brent said nothing. Instead, he concentrated his sweeping on a particularly dirty spot on the floor and wished his cousin would let it drop. Which, of course, he wouldn’t.

“I’ll be damned, you did! Phew. I was beginning to think you’d forfeited your man card. Though I should have put two and two together sooner. You know, after finding you gawking at the pretty sunrise.”

“You done yet?”

“Uh oh. Performance issues? Is that why you’re out here, instead of still up at the inn?”

Brent resisted the urge to pummel Miles and instead wrapped both hands tightly around the broom handle. “Tell me—when, exactly, did you become such an asshole?”

“Oh, come on, coz. I’m just messing with you. And you gotta admit, I don’t get very many opportunities to do that anymore.” Miles’s face sobered. “So what really happened? Why are you out here, hiding?”

“I’m not hiding,” Brent said. “I wanted to get an early start on the day, that’s all. Since yesterday was mostly a bust.”

“Which might not matter, if Ruby’s smart and takes a serious look at this offer. Maybe you could help me convince her to—”

“I’m not going to help you bully her into a decision, Miles. And you’d better not be thinking of doing that, either.”

“I’d never bully her, and don’t make it sound like I would. But this deal makes solid financial sense for everyone involved.”

“That’s for Ruby to decide,” said Brent. “But until I hear otherwise, I’m going to keep working toward our goal of being ready to open in two weeks. Doesn’t leave me much time for—”

“Enjoying yourself?” Miles took another sip of his coffee, then turned and started for the barn’s front entrance. “Nah,” he muttered. “You’re already good at avoiding that all on your own.”

K
ayla awoke to a pesky beam of sunlight hitting her square in the face. She shifted her surprisingly achy body into a sitting position and looked around, disoriented. The view didn’t make any sense to her semi-conscious mind. Pale blue walls. Sheer white drapes, parted. Queen-size bed, sheets in wild disarray.

Sheets. Bed.

Brent
.

That explained the whole naked thing. She tugged the nearest sheet over her and shot a look at the space beside her on the bed. Empty.

Kayla lay back and breathed a sigh of relief. There would be no awkward morning after, no need for “thanks, and have a nice life” good-byes. Situations she’d read about, but never experienced herself. She’d never been part of a one-night stand before, let alone initiated one. Her past escapades in the bedroom had been few and far between, but always with someone she’d been dating for some time. Until last night, anyway, when she’d forced herself to just let go.

Kayla’s pulse quickened as images of the night before surfaced in her mind. She’d been so worried her limited experience would be obvious, that she’d feel embarrassed and self-conscious. But Brent hadn’t made her feel that way at all. Instead, he’d made her feel…beautiful. Desired. Wanted.

And she’d soaked up every second of it. Because, really, when was the last time anyone had made her feel that way? Hmm, that would be never.

She could have stayed in bed all day reliving that memory. Okay,
multiple
memories. Instead, she eventually crawled off the mattress and headed for the shower. It was time to get back to reality, to the real world, where knights in shining armor simply didn’t exist.

Nope, in her world, there were only computers and corporate a-holes. One, she could unplug and walk away from. The other? Well, if they thought she was going to tuck her tail and run, they had another thing coming. Because after the night Kayla just had, she felt ready to take on the world. Even, perhaps, the untouchable Joe Freimann.

Forty-five minutes later, she headed downstairs, refreshed and eager to get on the road. At the bottom landing, Kayla paused to listen. Silence. Relief washed over her anew.

But a different emotion battled for her attention as she stepped toward the dining room: disappointment. She brushed off the feeling and silently scolded herself. Seeing Brent would only complicate things. And probably get her all hot and bothered, which would be entirely counterproductive. This was much better, she told herself. No messy good-byes, no strings attached.

“Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?” Ruby called from behind the bar top by the kitchen entrance. Her face was as bright and cheery as ever, free of suspicion as to what might have transpired between Kayla and her grandson in the night.

Kayla breathed another mental sigh of relief. Silly as it may be, she didn’t want to leave that type of impression on her gracious hostess. Especially since she’d never dreamed of having a fling before. Ever. Good girls like her just didn’t do that type of thing. She slid into a seat at the bar and pushed her oncoming guilt trip aside.

“Slept like a rock, and I don’t usually sleep well when I’m away from home. Had to have been that amazing bed. If I had a bigger car I’d try to smuggle it back home with me. I’ve never slept better.”

Kayla clamped her mouth shut. She was rambling, a sure sign of guilt. Thankfully, Ruby appeared unfazed by it.

“I’m so glad to hear that. We upgraded all our beds a few years back, after Miles read about a direct correlation between comfort and satisfaction in some study on successful hotel chains. All those statistics and what not are just stuff and nonsense to me. But Miles? He eats it up.”

She poured Kayla a cup of coffee, then brought over a little caddy holding dainty containers of cream and sugar. “Hungry, dear? I’ve still got plenty of pancake batter in the back, and some bacon. I could even make up some eggs. Or fruit, perhaps?”

“I don’t know, it all sounds so good.” Kayla laughed. “Guess I’m just not used to having more than cold cereal as a breakfast option.”

“It’s no wonder you’re skinny as a rail. People should eat real food for breakfast, not something out of a box.”

“You know, bacon and eggs do sound pretty good.” Kayla peered at the wall clock across the room. “I’m just not sure how long I have until the tow truck arrives, though. Have they called yet?”

“No, the phone has been quiet all morning. Which means we should have plenty of time to get some food in your stomach. How do you like your eggs, dear?”

“Um, scrambled would be great, thank you.”

Kayla waited for Ruby to disappear behind the kitchen door before allowing her shoulders to slump with disappointment. She was itching to get on the road, to get home and start plotting her revenge. There had to be something she could do to get back at Joe for setting her up. But what? And could she do it without burning what was left of the smoldering bridge between her and her boss?

Before she could come up with a suitable ploy, the kitchen door swung open again. Ruby stepped out, a heaping plate of bacon and eggs in her hand.

“Oh, thank you, it looks amazing. But you made so much.”

“Just do your best, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want to send you off still hungry.”

Kayla took those words to heart and began to devour her breakfast. After the night she’d had, it was no wonder she was starving. Had bacon and eggs ever tasted so good? She glanced up in Ruby’s direction when she paused to take a drink of her coffee, and was surprised to see the older woman frowning down at the clipboard before her.

“Everything all right, Ruby?” Kayla asked.

“Oh, yes. Just so much left to do before we open for the season. I’m usually further along in our preparations by now, but we’ve had some issues come up unexpectedly that set us back a bit.” She waved off the list and came over to refill Kayla’s coffee mug. “Nothing we can’t handle, I’m sure.”

“Does it take a lot of people to run a place like this?”

“Not really. For the longest time it was just John and me. Our children had grown and moved off.” Ruby looked across the dining room toward the sun streaming in through the nearest window and smiled. “John always said he bought me the inn because he knew I needed something to take care of. I would have settled for a puppy in those days, but he joked that we wouldn’t have to housebreak an inn. Though there have been times when the inn nearly broke us.”

Her smile dimmed momentarily then brightened once more. “Business really picked up in the nineties, though, so we brought on a groundskeeper. Then a cleaning gal. When Miles finished college, he volunteered to oversee my finances. Truthfully, I think he’s after his inheritance.” Ruby leaned in close with a devilish grin on her face and winked. “Too bad I’m planning on spending every last cent myself.”

Kayla couldn’t help but laugh.

“These past few years he’s done a fine job of spending it for me, though,” Ruby continued. “New beds. New dishes. New paint. New landscaping. The boy’s run me ragged. And then he comes up with this cockamamie idea to bring in a chef—a chef! Whatever was wrong with my cooking, I asked.”

“What did he say?”

“That I work too hard.” Ruby scowled. “And that bringing in someone with the title of ‘chef’ would boost our occupancy rates. Bah! Titles and rates are for number crunchers, not innkeepers. Let me cook my own darned food.”

“Well, I, for one, think your cooking is amazing.”

“Thank you, dear.” Ruby sighed. “To be honest, though, Maddie is much better than I ever was when it comes to presentation. She has a way with all those artsy-fartsy sauce decorations. I suppose if that’s what people want—”