Chasing Dreams (Devil's Bend) (37 page)

That
was definitely the Carl he’d grown accustomed to. He much preferred the ornery
old man to the fragile, forgetful one he’d spent hours with, as well. Carl had
been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s within the last year, and as each day passed,
Kaleb recognized more and more symptoms. At times, he was positive Carl didn’t
know who he was, even though he pretended to.

“If
you’re looking for Zoey, she’s not here,”

Kaleb
barely heard him over the television turned up loud enough for Carl to hear
without the hearing aids he refused to wear. Glancing over at the TV and then
back at Carl, he bit back a laugh when Carl sighed dramatically before turning
the volume down with the remote on the arm of his chair.

“I’m
not here to see Zoey, Mr. Stranford. I’m here to see you,”

“Ahhh,”
Carl didn’t look any happier than he sounded by the news. “Out to try and steal
my land again, are you?”

“No,
sir,” Kaleb said, forcing back a smile. He was, of course, looking to
acquire
some of Carl’s land, but in his opinion, the offer was more than fair. So, no,
he was not looking to steal anything.

“So,
why is it that you can come over to talk to me about my land, but you aren’t
here trying to woo my daughter?”

Kaleb
couldn’t tell whether Carl was serious or trying to jack with him.
Woo?
Seriously? Who said woo anymore?

He
couldn’t very well tell Carl that he’d been thinking about “wooing” his
daughter for some time now, but had never gotten up enough nerve to do so. No
matter how Carl sounded, Kaleb wasn’t convinced he’d take any man’s intentions
toward his daughter as a good thing. Not after her devastating divorce.

Shaking
off that train of thought, Kaleb focused his attention on Carl once more. “Mr.
Stranford, I wanted to stop by to see if you’d come to a decision about the
land,”

“What
are you planning to do with my land again?”

Kaleb’s
hands balled into fists, but he kept them hidden. He was fairly certain Carl
knew exactly what he and his brothers intended to do with it, but he figured he
had no choice but to oblige him.

“Sir,
we’re looking to build a hotel,” Well, it was more of a resort, but he didn’t
want to go into the details.

“A
hotel? Like what? A La Quinta?”

Fighting
the urge to laugh, Kaleb shook his head. “No, sir. Not a La Quinta.” Not by a
long shot, he thought to himself.

“What
do you plan to do with my house if you build this hotel?” Carl asked,
sincerely, his forehead creased with worry.

“We
don’t have any plans for your house, Mr. Stranford. We aren’t looking to buy
the land that your house sits on. We’re only looking to acquire the one hundred
acres that sit adjacent to my father’s land,”

“One
hundred acres, huh?”

Oh,
brother.

“Yes,
sir,”

The
amount that Kaleb and his brothers were looking to purchase was about half of
what Carl owned in total. Even though he was certain Carl didn’t have any
intentions of using the land in the future, they didn’t want to go overboard.
In Kaleb’s opinion, Travis was riding a fine line as it was.

Since
Travis was insistent that the entrance face the south, for a number of reasons
he’d been told, this had been their only option.

“And
how much are you offering me?”

Kaleb
was pretty sure he saw a twinkle in Carl’s eye, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the
man was trying to catch him in a lie. Well, that was one thing the Walker’s
didn’t do. They didn’t lie, and they didn’t try and cheat someone out of what
was rightfully theirs.

Taking
a deep breath, Kaleb settled in for the long haul. For the next half hour, he
repeated the same conversation he’d had with Mr. Stranford for the umpteenth
time.

♀♂

To
say Zoey was tired was an understatement.

She
and V were going on hour number three of their weekly visit to the Wilson’s
gi-freaking-normous house in which they scoured the five thousand square foot
monstrosity from top to bottom. Sometimes she wished she wasn’t quite so
gullible because when Victoria Wilson had bragged about how well kept her house
was, Zoey had actually believed her.

Ummm...
That was
so
not the case.

“V?”
Zoey called out, her voice echoing off of the Travertine floors and twenty feet
tall ceilings. “Where are you?”

Making
her way to the master bedroom downstairs, Zoey had a good idea where V was, and
she smiled at the thought.

Noticing
that the master bedroom was in tip top shape, Zoey continued toward the master
bathroom and the sound of V sighing. Loudly.

“Are
you almost done?” Zoey asked when she found V on her hands and knees near the
toilet – the one thing V absolutely detested about cleaning houses. For a
while, she had tried to convince Zoey that she was allergic to toilets, and
some of her excuses had bordered on insane, but knowing V, Zoey had never given
in.

“Does
it look like I’m almost done?” V snarled. “If someone,”
cough, cough
,
“understood how much I truly hate this part of the job,”
cough, cough
,
“they might’ve agreed to handle the bathrooms all by herself,”

“Ummm...
In case you didn’t know, I’ve already cleaned the other four. And you’re just
lucky I volunteered to clean the kid’s bathroom,” Zoey snarled back,
remembering all too vividly what the Wilson’s son’s bathroom had looked like
before she went in there.

Unfortunately,
the bathroom hadn’t been the worst of it this time. She wasn’t sure what it was
the Wilson’s did to make this much of a mess in a seven day period, yet each
week it seemed to get worse. With six children – Zoey had no idea how they kept
up with six kids – it was a wonder the house was even still standing.

“Well,
what’s one more?” V asked, still scrubbing away before flushing the toilet and
standing. With a little wiggle of her hips, V managed to straighten her skirt
before tossing her hair back over her shoulder.  

How
the woman could come to work – cleaning houses, mind you – looking impeccable
day in and day out was beyond her. If she didn’t know better, Zoey would’ve
thought V worked in the corporate world for all of the trouble she went through
to get dressed up each day.

Not
Zoey. No way. Her outfit for the day consisted of her soft, faded jeans and an
oversized t-shirt that had clearly seen better days. But, neither her shirt nor
her jeans had holes in them, and that was about as good as it got for her.

Staring
back at her friend, Zoey realized they looked like polar opposites, what with V
wearing wedge heels and a flouncy skirt. V was also tall and curvy in all the
right places while Zoey was on the short side. Like day and night, Zoey smiled
to herself.

After
V stripped the latex gloves off, tossing them into the sink, she turned her
attention to Zoey. “What’s left?”

“I
think we’re done,” Zoey smiled. “As long as you’re done in here, that is,”

“Oh,
I’m done,” V said feigning exasperation.

“What
do you say I buy you a drink then?” Zoey asked, turning toward the kitchen to
pack up the rest of their things.

“Throw
in dinner, and you’ve got a date,” V stated, tossing the last of her supplies
into the bucket they used to haul them back and forth from the truck.

“Can’t
do dinner tonight,” Zoey grinned. “I’m meeting Kaleb,”

“Ohhhh...
That’s right. I almost forgot. Your weekly date,” V pretended to be offended,
but Zoey knew better. “I’m being shunned for that sexy, hot neighbor of yours,”

“It’s
not a date,” Zoey realized how defensive she sounded as soon as the words were
out of her mouth.

“When
are you going to give in and sleep with him?”

Hefting
her bucket of cleaners, Zoey managed to lock the front door and roll her eyes
at her friend while pretending not to have heard the question.

It
wasn’t the first time V had asked that particular question, and she knew it
wouldn’t be the last, so Zoey wasn’t even going to dignify it with a response.
Best friend or not, V had an uncanny ability to get on Zoey’s last nerve with
her constant pestering when it came to her friendship with Kaleb Walker.

It
seemed as though once a week V would go off on a tangent about how Zoey and
Kaleb were dancing around one another and should just give in and admit they
wanted to sleep together. For the most part, Zoey managed to ignore her. The rest
of the time she just made it worse by arguing.

There
was possibly a smidgeon of truth to V’s assessment of the situation, but Zoey
wouldn’t admit it. Ever since Zoey’s marriage came crashing down around her,
she and Kaleb had managed to rekindle the friendship they’d shared since middle
school. Only this time, her best buddy managed to spark an irritating amount of
lust that Zoey refused to acknowledge.

Considering
there weren’t many days that passed in which they didn’t meet up for dinner or
drinks, or just to hang out with a group of friends, Zoey was having a hard
time ignoring this little infatuation she’d apparently developed for him.

As
far as she could tell, there wasn’t an ounce of reciprocation from Kaleb’s
side, so it made it a little easier to pretend he was just her friend. And she
could’ve lived with that if her warped and twisted mind hadn’t gone and
conjured up a plethora of images that consisted of all of the things Zoey
wanted to do to the man.

She
had a feeling V’s comments were to blame for that carnal slide show playing
over and over again in her mind.

Ten
minutes later, Zoey was pulling her truck into the gravel parking lot of
Moonshiner’s – the one and only bar in their very small town. For a Thursday
afternoon, it was packed, but the more the merrier, Zoey thought to herself.

It
took a little persuading – or flirting, whatever you wanted to call it – to
commandeer two bar stools, but they finally managed. Ordering their usual –
mango margaritas – Zoey glanced around the dimly lit room, scoping out the
familiar faces.

Most
of the Thursday crowd was younger, getting a jump start on the weekend and
choosing to battle it out at the pool tables. The dance floor was empty, but
that wasn’t unusual for this time of day. It usually livened up quite a bit
after dark, but they were still a few hours off from that.

Feeling a tad surly after V’s pestering from earlier, Zoey turned
to her friend and threw out the one question she knew would get V riled up.
“So, when are you going to focus on your own Walker man and lay off my
nonexistent sex life?”

“
My
 Walker man?” V almost sounded as though she had no
idea what Zoey was talking about. Almost. “Who the hell are you talking about?”

Remembering the way V had all but jumped on Zane Walker the last
time they’d all gotten together, Zoey arched an eyebrow in challenge. “Don’t
deny it. I saw the way you were eye fucking Zane the last time we were here,”

“Zane? 
Zane Walker
 – Zane?” Vanessa laughed, and
the sultry sound had half the bar turning to look at them.

“Do you know another one?”

The best defense is a good offense
 –
the phrase suddenly rang through Zoey’s mind when she saw the look in Vanessa’s
eyes. It was about to be a free for all.

“Wait,” V held up a hand, taking a sip of her drink. “You first,”

“Me first, what?” Zoey was confused.

“You admit to crushing on Kaleb, and then I’ll tell you my story,”

“Oh, whatever,” Zoey laughed. “I am not crushing on Kaleb or
anyone else for that matter. But you, my beautiful friend have a bad case of
the hots for one Zane Walker,”

V blushed immediately, but turned her head and avoided Zoey’s
knowing stare. It was obvious the woman had been lusting after Kaleb's younger
brother, but Zoey had no idea for how long. Not that age mattered, but there
was a six year age gap between V and Zane, which was surprising because her
friend had never been the type to go for younger men.

“You can’t deny it, V,”

When Vanessa’s ears flamed red, Zoey knew she’d hit her mark. But,
they both knew it was all in good fun because yes if either of them were to own
up to it, both of them had the hots for one of the Walker brothers.

“Maybe not, but what about you and Kaleb?”

“What about me and Kaleb?” Zoey asked, forcing a smile. She did
not like where this conversation was going, regardless of whether this was her
best friend or not. She was not willing to admit whatever these strange
feelings were that she’d developed for Kaleb.

“You have to admit he’s hot,” V grinned.

“Well, of course, he’s hot,” That wasn't a secret.

“Have you ever fantasized about what it would be like to kiss
him?” V asked, getting pushy as always.

What was this? Eighth grade?