Her Unexpected Detour (11 page)

Chapter Twelve

M
onday morning dawned bright and sunny, not a cloud in the sky. The weekend’s wintery mix had been replaced by an unusually warm and dry forecast. Gone was the musty, damp chill in the air, and yesterday’s sunshine seemed to have dried the Checkerberry’s grounds considerably.

Too bad the weather was doing nothing to clear Kayla from his mind. Only a day of backbreaking labor might be able to do that. Even then, Brent’s chances were still slim to none.

I never should have gone to that stupid bar last night
, he thought for the hundredth time as he drove his truck to the far corner of Ruby’s property. Never should have played the Good Samaritan on Friday, either. Sure, he’d finally gotten laid, but was a night of passion really worth all this heartache?

Miles would say hell yes. Though that was because the man seemed to have no conscience when it came to loving and leaving the beauties of Mount Pleasant. Brent, however, wasn’t wired like that. Sometimes, he wished he was.

Like now.

He parked the Silverado near a damaged section of fence that separated Ruby’s land from that of her neighbor, Hank Billings. It’d been Hank’s wife’s brilliant idea a few years back to start raising alpacas. They’re beautiful, she’d said. Their fleece will bring us money, he’d said.

They’ve gone and broken my darned fence again, is what Ruby said. Again, and again, and again.

“Mindless beasts,” Brent grumbled, surveying the most recent damage.

Actually, it wasn’t so much that they were mindless as they seemed to be running around blind—with desire. Either the Billings were feeding them aphrodisiacs, or it was mating season. Brent shook his head, trying to free his mind from the scene he’d discovered behind the barn just this morning. All that braying and grunting. Christ, he’d about lost his breakfast.

The worst part was, four-legged fence-wreckers or not, at least they had mates. All he had was his work and a hairy black beast named Bear. Which was all he really needed, he reminded himself as he dragged the broken railing aside. And the sooner he got that through his thick skull, the better.

Brent pulled on a pair of work gloves and set about wrestling the fence post loose from its hole in the ground. The sun beat down on his back, and in no time he’d broken a sweat. Soon he stopped to strip out of his fleece outer layer. A blue jay cried in the distance, drawing Brent’s gaze out over the hilly green countryside. The sight was as familiar to him as breathing; he’d been over every inch of Ruby’s land more times than he could count. And yet, the joy that sight usually brought evaded him this morning.

It was no great mystery why. And though he’d ordered himself to push her from his thoughts, the memory of Kayla continued to haunt him. Their time together last night had been like a shot of endorphins straight to his heart, jump-starting the organ from its long-dormant state. As much as he’d tried not to start falling for her, somehow he still had.

Which was why sending her off before things went any further last night had been the right call to make. He knew the agony he felt after her departure would eventually subside. In the meantime, it served as the perfect reminder to his earlier conclusion: Kayla was dangerous. Her mere presence was a crowbar aimed at the lock around his heart.

A lock he couldn’t afford to lose.

Brent spent the rest of the morning mending damaged sections of Ruby’s fence. At one point she and Miles passed by in the distance during her weekly scan of the grounds. They neither drove the inn’s Gator yard cart his way to stop and visit nor bothered with a wave, which was fine with Brent. He was too busy wrestling his own demons to want company. Though it did amuse him to see Miles dressed down for once, wearing some old CMU shirt and a Yankees cap. Whether from the lure of sunshine or Ruby’s taunting, his cousin had finally given in and agreed to help with the landscaping.

About damned time, with their opening less than two weeks off.

When Brent made it back up to the inn and headed around to the front porch for an afternoon of scraping and priming, he couldn’t help but give his cousin some grief when he spotted that navy cap hovering above Ruby’s nearby spring blooms.

“Well, well, well,” he said, dropping his supplies near the front steps. “It seems you aren’t allergic to manual labor after all.”

The Yankees cap dipped and shook. When its brim rose again, the last face he expected to see at the Checkerberry came into view. One that had haunted him all day, just as it’d haunted his dreams the past few nights.

Kayla.

Anger welled up inside of him. Anger toward his meddling cousin. Anger toward his meddling grandmother. And anger at himself, for the way his heart rate spiked at the sight of her.

“W
hat are you doing here?” Brent demanded, eyes dark as Friday’s storm.

Kayla sat back on her heels and reminded herself that she was here for Ruby. Ruby needed help, and Kayla needed a place to lay her weary head. And, after the day she’d had, the Jacuzzi tub in her suite was sounding mighty good right about now. No way was she going to let Brent intimidate her into leaving. He didn’t own the place, Ruby did. And Ruby had been ecstatic when she learned Kayla was back.

The two women had spent the entire morning together. Ruby took her on a grand tour of the property, showcasing the barn, the pond and its pier, and the trails through the woods. At one point they’d spotted Brent wrestling with a fence post well off the cleared trail. Relief had washed over her when Ruby had kept on driving—she’d been worried since agreeing to this arrangement how their next meeting would go. So far, it had gone as expected. Question was, could she keep her cool?

“Well, hello, Brent. Nice to see you again, too.”

He remained on the porch, fuming but silent.

“Have any luck with that fence? Ruby told me about how those llama-things are always knocking them down.”

“Alpacas,” he said, his voice low and deadly. “And yes, the fence is fixed. Now answer the question.”

Kayla rose from the flower bed and put a hand to her back. Working Ruby’s landscaping was no different than what she did every year for her father’s yard. And yet, somehow she always forgot to stop and stretch often enough. Yep, the Jacuzzi tub was definitely in her future tonight.

“What I’m doing here?” A small part of her rather enjoyed seeing him like this, all out of sorts. She tugged off the gloves Ruby had loaned her and motioned toward the nearest flower bed. “Well, isn’t it obvious?”

Brent growled, turned, and dismounted the porch. In a flash he was toe-to-toe with her, his hands like vise grips on her upper arms. “Why? Why did you come back?”

“Hey! Let me go!”

His gaze fixed on hers, unmoved. “No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Miles said—”

“I
knew
it.”

His hands released her then, and Kayla stumbled to regain her balance. She watched as he turned back toward the front door.

“Oh no you don’t.” She tossed her gloves down and ran ahead of him, blocking his path. “You leave Miles alone.”

Brent’s brows rose in unison on his smooth forehead. “Oh, Miles has a new member of his fan club, does he? Tell me, did you take him back to your room, too?”

Kayla’s hand moved of its own accord, and pain flared across her palm as it connected with his cheek. Brent flinched but otherwise remained motionless. Almost instantly, a red handprint appeared upon the point of impact.

“I suppose I deserved that,” he said after a moment, his voice low, strained.

“What I do and who I do it with is none of your business. And for the record? Miles offered me a place to stay in exchange for helping Ruby get ready for the season opening. Because everyone here is already swamped.

“Besides, I already learned my lesson about allowing Masterson boys into my room.” She stormed back across the yard to retrieve her gloves, hand trowel, and shovel. “And it won’t happen again.”

He said nothing as she rounded the far corner of the building, nor did he make any move to stop her. The farther she got from the man, the angrier she became. How dare he insinuate she’d slept with Miles. Or demand to know why she was here. Who the hell did he think he was?

Kayla discarded her tools in the small shed that doubled as the Checkerberry’s pool house with a scowl, then headed inside. No way was she going to work out there while Brent was around. She stopped at the inn’s back door and kicked off her shoes. It was then that she caught sight of her reflection. Kayla had forgotten all about the CMU shirt Miles had loaned her. And the borrowed Yankees cap. Is that where he’d gotten that asinine idea that she’d slept with his cousin? Just because she was wearing a few articles of his clothing?

What difference did it make to him, anyway? He’d sent her off the night before, probably couldn’t get rid of her fast enough, and now he was acting like he owned her?

“Is that you, Kayla?”

So much for heading upstairs to punch a few pillows. “Yeah, be right there.”

She headed in the direction of Miles’s voice and found him in an office toward the end of the next hallway. The room was small and cozy but cramped with a large, L-shaped desk eating up a good half of the space. On the far wall stood a matching bookshelf, filled to the brim with thick textbooks on a topic that would put her right to sleep: accounting. Her gaze shifted to the man behind the desk.

“What’s up?”

Miles pushed back from his computer and smiled. “So? How’d it go?”

“Really well, until your cousin showed up. So much for me not having to talk to him.” Kayla tugged the ball cap off with a frown and tossed it to him.

Miles grimaced and set the cap aside. “Shit, I’m sorry. He’s just—”

“Been through a lot. I get it. But still.” She blew out a frustrated sigh. “Anyway, I got further than I thought I would today. You can go ahead and order that mulch for tomorrow. I should be ready for it by midday. I’m guessing there’s a wheelbarrow around here somewhere I can borrow?”

“Oh, I can do better than that. We’ve got a Gator.”

“A what?”

“A Gator. You know, like a golf cart on steroids. Has a dump bed and everything.”

“Sweet.”

She looked out the window and couldn’t help but wonder what kind of damage this Gator might do to a grumpy groundskeeper? The good girl in her
tsk-tsked
the idea. The bad girl side? She cheered. Too bad she’d never actually do it. Besides, the big lug would probably put one heck of a dent in Ruby’s cart. With a sigh, Kayla shifted her gaze back inside.

“So, this is your office, huh? Nice.”

“Thanks. My grandfather made all the furniture by hand. Most of it from wood right here on the property.” He gave the desk a loving pat; the motion drew Kayla’s eye to a sketch near his hand.

“Whatcha working on?”

“Oh this? Just some doodles of an ad idea I’ve been chewing on.”

She pulled the paper closer and slipped without thought into work mode. An ad like this would never fly at Wayne. Not because his artwork was awful—and it was, she’d seen third graders do better—but because the design was all wrong. Years of practice, though, kept her from saying as much. Instead, she did what she loved to do: offered feedback and steered him in a new and improved direction.

“Not bad. Though it might grab your audience’s attention faster if you made the tag line smaller and moved it there, shortened this sentence here, and then maybe added a picture of the front of the inn behind it all.” She looked up to find him staring at her with mouth ajar and shrugged. “Just a thought.”

He blinked a few times and pulled the sketch back to his side of the desk. “Well, great. I’ll, uh, take that under consideration.”

She rose to her feet and put a hand to the aching spot in her lower back. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, the Jacuzzi tub’s calling my name.”

“Enjoy,” Miles mumbled, still staring at the sketch she’d just critiqued.

Kayla left his office and headed upstairs to her suite. Once there, she locked the door behind her and went straight for the Jacuzzi tub. It was either that or go back downstairs to strangle Brent Masterson, and she simply didn’t have the energy to do that. As it was, she barely had enough energy to strip out of her filthy clothes.

Soon she slipped gingerly into a tub full of steaming water and rested her head on its back ledge. As the jets worked their magic on her aching body, Kayla began to wonder how she’d ever be able to keep her end of the bargain with Miles if Brent was going to accost her every day. Soft bed or not, she wasn’t going to hang around and be bullied—she already suffered through enough of that at work. Too bad she couldn’t stay inside the rest of the week and develop bold new ads for the inn instead.

Develop bold new ads.

A grin tugged at Kayla’s lips. The upcoming Follinger bid. If she could coach her team offsite to win that major project, Jacober would have no choice but to bring her back. And if she built the profit margin just right, maybe he’d even pay her for the week. But to do all that, she’d need the inn’s internet connection, at least until her car was fixed and ready to go.

Now that would make enduring the grouch a bit more bearable.

Chapter Thirteen

B
rent remained on the porch long after his altercation with Kayla, scraping and sanding away his frustrations. His cheek still stung from Kayla’s slap, but not as much as his ego. He’d been completely out of line with that comment about her sleeping with Miles, he knew that. She’d said she wasn’t usually a one-night stand kind of girl, and he believed her. Didn’t make having to endure the sight of her for the duration of her stay any easier. Then again, he wouldn’t have seen her or acted like a total jerk if Miles hadn’t brought her back to the inn.

What was his cousin playing at?

Oh sure, Kayla could insist all day long that Miles’s intentions were harmless or selfless. But Brent knew his cousin better. Miles never acted without reason. Usually, the reason was centered around self gain. But what could he possibly gain from convincing Kayla to stay at the inn? Was she his next romantic target?

Not likely. While Miles loved to consider himself a ladies’ man, he was much more prone to being one-and-done when it came to dates with out-of-towners. To bring her here for an extended stay just didn’t fit Miles’s M.O.

So, why bring Kayla back at all?

The front door creaked open behind him, then banged shut. A quick glance back found Miles approaching. It took everything Brent had not to leave his post on the stepladder and greet his cousin with a solid right hook. But that would only add fuel to Kayla’s fiery temper, something he didn’t want to do. One slap a decade was more than enough.

“You calling it a day?”

“Yeah,” Miles said. “If I stare at that screen much longer, I’ll go cross-eyed.”

“You’ve been at it a lot here lately. In there planning world domination or what?”

“I always put in a lot of time at the office,” Miles said. “You’re just not usually around to notice.”

“I notice more than you think.”

Miles frowned. “Meaning?”

Brent studied his cousin for a moment before answering. Miles’s face gave away nothing. No mischief, no ulterior motives. And yet, Brent sensed he was definitely up to something.

“Why’d you bring her back here, Miles?”

“Kayla? I thought you were behind schedule.”

“Of course I’m behind,” Brent said, climbing down off the ladder. “I’ve been behind all spring. How is her being here supposed to make things any better? She’s corporate America, man. Not exactly the caliber worker I need help from right now.”

“She said she had some experience with landscaping.” Miles looked out over the front yard. “And from the looks of things, I’d say I have to believe her.”

Brent’s gaze followed his cousin’s. He’d been too pissed off earlier to bother inspecting the work she’d done. Now he scanned a critical eye across the yard…and was stunned by the view.

The flower beds bordering the front drive had been cleared of last year’s old growth and neatly edged. So had the beds along the front walk and half the length of the porch. Shrubs had been pruned and clematis restrung to the lamppost along the front drive. If Brent didn’t know better, he would have guessed a professional landscape crew had spent a day in the yard.

“She asked to have mulch delivered tomorrow,” Miles continued. “So don’t take the Gator out—I said she could use it. Though, after whatever you said to her earlier, you might want to steer clear of her while she’s behind the wheel.”

Brent shook his head, still in awe of the view. “I need to give the princess more credit.”

“Maybe you need to give us all more credit.” Miles gestured toward Brent’s cheek. “You hurt yourself today?”

“Uh, yeah. Wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing,” he said, rubbing a hand absently over the spot where Kayla had slapped him. “It’s nothing.”

“Well, try to be more careful, will ya? I didn’t bring in extra help so you could ease up any.” Miles threw him a grin, then turned to leave. But Brent’s curiosity wasn’t quite sated.

“What did Ruby say about that offer you were telling me about this weekend?”

“Nothing, I haven’t mentioned it to her yet. Been going back and forth between our attorneys, trying to work out the best deal possible.” His cousin lowered his voice and cast a wary look toward the front door. “Was waiting until then to bring it up.”

“Or waiting for a time when I wouldn’t be around.”
Or be too distracted
.

Miles’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t care if you’re there or not. It’s her inn, her future. Her decision.”

“That’s right.” Brent walked over to where his cousin stood. “
Her
decision, not ours.”

“Which I’ve always respected, so don’t make me out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, Brent. Look, we’re all doing our damnedest to keep this place from going belly-up, but it’s not enough. The economy, the age of this place…the odds just aren’t in our favor. If a solid offer comes along, she’d be a fool not to take it.”

“There’s got to be something we’re missing, something that could help get the inn back on the map.”

“Now that you mention it…”

Brent cast him a wary look. “What?”

Miles dug a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, and showed it to him. “You see this?”

“Cute. Some guest’s kid leave that behind?”

“No, smart-ass, I drew that. It’s an ad I was toying with, in case this offer falls through.”

“So?”

“So your little girlfriend just dissected it without even trying. Gave me pointers I plan to run with and hope to turn into gold.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Brent said with a frown.

“Oh, that’s right—you’ve sworn off dating. Well, news flash, big guy: she’s into you. And if you’re really looking for a way to save the inn? She’s upstairs in her suite, washing you right out of her hair.”

Brent grimaced as the image of Kayla’s face, full of rage and defiance, came to mind—now was definitely not the time to go asking for help. “I don’t think she’s as into me as you think.”

“And I think you’re blind. You asked why I brought her back? I brought her back for you. Because she’s the first girl I’ve seen affect you in years. And you seem to have the same effect on her, too.”

“Affect me? Only because I keep running into her.”

“Whatever. Look, even if you plan to push her away like all the others, think about this: Kayla could be the exact thing we’ve been looking for, the spark that could bring the inn back to life. So don’t just walk away in a huff like usual. Think about how her advertising prowess could help Ruby, help all of us.”

Brent stared at Miles as the truth of his words sank in. He was right—Kayla was the first woman to get past his usual line of defenses in a long, long time. Since Nikki. That’s why he’d been trying so hard to push her away, to keep his distance. But what if Miles was right? What if she could help save the inn? Save Ruby’s hopes and dreams? Hell, save his own? Who was he to ignore the virtual gift bestowed upon them?

All it would cost him was his heart.

He let out a long sigh. “Wow, coz. Nothing like setting the weight of the world on my shoulders.”

“Anytime, man. Anytime. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date to get ready for. And you…” He reached out and patted Brent’s arm. “Have some thinking to do.”

“Lucky me.”

His gaze shifted back to the second floor. Too bad he wasn’t lucky. Not one bit.

K
ayla sat across from her brother at a nearby Dairy Queen an hour later, each with a red plastic spoon and large Blizzard before them. His offer to rescue her from the inn for a few hours had instantly lifted her spirits, and she’d never been one to turn down ice cream. Ever.

“So how’s your roommate feeling?”

“I stopped over earlier to check on him, and he still looks green. Whatever Jeremy caught, it’s one nasty bug. I’m starting to wonder if we’ll need to condemn the place after this.”

Kayla laughed. “I don’t know who I feel worse for: Jeremy, or the bathroom.”

“Right? And I’ve been stuck at Heather’s because Rex walked into the shop this morning and found everything covered with flying ants. Had to call the exterminator; they bombed the place.”

“Wow, and I thought my luck was bad.” Kayla chuckled. “So, how are things with you and Heather?”

Tommy shrugged. “Can’t complain.”

Kayla grinned. Tommy had never been one to kiss and tell. Then again, she was his sister, after all. He changed the subject.

“So, any word from the board?”

“No, but it’s still early. I’m not even sure when they’ll meet to review my little boo-boo.”

“You really want to go back and work there, after this BS suspension?”

“Do I have a choice? I’ve got bills to pay, Tommy. And I love my job. Well, I did, anyway.”

“I say you tell them to shove it and go find a new one. At a place that actually respects you.”

Kayla laughed. “Me, just up and quit at Wayne? Yeah, that’d go over well with Dad.”

She’d been so excited when her father’s old college roomie granted her an interview at Wayne Advertising right after graduation. Thrilled to discover Jacober was not only the hiring manager, but also the head of the company. It seemed like a brilliant stroke of luck. But over time the connection between the two men had become shackles around her wrists. To leave Wayne would be a serious letdown to her father, not to mention a major source of worry she refused to inflict on him. And without another job already lined up, she couldn’t afford to walk away even if she wanted to.

Besides, Kayla Daniels was no quitter.

She stabbed at her Blizzard then froze. Isn’t that exactly what she’d done this afternoon after Brent yelled at her? And Friday, back at work? What was wrong with her lately?

“Speaking of Dad,” Tommy said, “when was the last time you called him?”

“Yesterday morning,” she said, preoccupied. “Why?”

“Well, he called earlier to say hi, then asked if he could talk to you for a minute.”

“Oh crap. What did you say?”

“I lied and said you and Heather had gone shopping, and that you’d call him when you got back. But I don’t think he was buying it.”

“Great. So now what do I tell him?”

“How about the truth?”

“No. I refuse to stress him out with all of this.”

“Kay, it’s
Dad
. You don’t have to handle him with kid gloves, for crying out loud. It’s not like he’s made of glass.”

“Neither was mom, but we both know how that ended.”

The words slipped out before she realized it and hung in the air between them. Tommy dropped his spoon into the cup before him and sighed. “Is that what this is about? You’re worried that stress might—”

“Yes, I am. And it’s my job to see that it doesn’t.”

Tommy frowned. “You can’t hover over him or try to shield him from stress or bad news forever. Those things are a part of life.”

“Yeah, well, I think he’s gone through enough bad news for one lifetime. And shielding him from this little fiasco of mine can’t hurt anything. I’ll find a way to make things right at work, and he’ll be none the wiser.”

“But he’d want to know, to comfort you or help you find a way to make it right. That’s what dads do.”

Truth rang clear in his words. Growing up, their father had been a loving, supportive man. After their mother had been diagnosed with cancer, though, the sparkle in his eyes began to fade. When she passed away, the jovial, exuberant side of their father went to the grave with her. It’d taken years for him to climb out of there, longer than either of his kids. Kayla hated the idea of any setbacks.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said.

“Of course I’m right. Just call him, okay? Tell him what’s going on. Who knows what he’ll do if you don’t?”

Kayla shot him a grin, then dug out another scoop of Blizzard. What would her father say if she told him about her suspension when she called later? He’d probably insist she march back into work and demand to be reinstated. Which she would, once the Follinger bid’s design work was completed. If it turned out half as good as she planned, they’d have to pay her for the week. Or promote her.

Only one way to find out—she needed to get back to the inn and start drafting ideas on how best to rally her team. Kayla didn’t need her dad to pull strings, she just had to stop sulking, pull up her big girl panties, and focus. No more letting the Checkerberry’s sullen, grouchy handyman distract her, no matter how desirable he may be.

“Fine. But right now, I have bigger things to worry about.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

She threw her brother a sly grin. “Like how I’m going to convince your girlfriend to let me borrow some clothes that might get a bit dirty the next few days.”