Kaleidoscope Eyes (25 page)

He’d figured wrong.

Kodi had been worked up big time, and when she jumped up on Annie, she planted those moose paws with some serious force. He’d half expected Annie to go flying. But she planted those little feet of hers and took the hit without flinching.

Amazing.

That was the word that kept hitting him whenever he was with Annie. Whenever he thought about her.

Just … amazing.

So it only made sense, didn’t it, that he’d gotten a bit caught up in the role? That he’d been mesmerized by those eyes of hers?

That he’d been about to kiss her?

Oh, man. He’d almost kissed her! Andy would have his head. And he’d be right.

Winning Annie’s trust was one thing. Kissing her? That had to be a serious breach of ethics or something. And even if it wasn’t, it was stupid, plain and simple.

He wasn’t out here looking for a relationship. Or even a date. All he wanted from Annie was for her to do his show. That’s it. So he needed to get with it. Get the woman’s signature on the dotted line, get the episode in the can, and get gone. Back to LA, where he didn’t have to think about anyone else.

Just him.

Alone.

The way it was supposed to be.

Excited barking split the air, and Jed saw Kodi licking Jayce’s face. The teen pushed the dog away and pulled the tennis ball from his jacket pocket. Annie and Jayce praised Kodi to the skies.

It was like a celebration, a party, and everyone got to take part. Everyone but him. He held back, watching. Picturing what this would look like through the camera. How he’d capture Annie’s expression and Kodi’s ecstasy, how he’d pan from handler to dog to victim …

Yeah, this is what he needed to do. Keep his distance. Stay focused on the goal. Far smarter than focusing on the woman. And safer. Focusing on the goal would get him what he wanted. The show. Another season. Success.

And focusing on Annie. That’d get him one thing and one thing only.

Lost.

TWENTY-THREE        

O
CTOBER
8

5:00 p.m.

“Finally!”

Brianna Heller and her husband, Mark, stepped back, surveying their handiwork. They’d gone camping a number of times before, but this new tent had almost beat them. Of course, they’d arrived later than planned, which didn’t help. Bree had started to think they’d still be trying to construct the tent by firelight. She’d come
this
close to suggesting they find a nearby Motel 6. Of course,
near
in this case meant sixty miles away.

Mark’s strong arm encircled her waist, pulling her close. “We make a good team, you know that?”

Bree rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “Yes, we do.”

“You think you’ll be able to rest up here?”

She sighed. Mark worried about her so. She loved him for it but wished he didn’t feel the need. “Honey, I’m okay.”

“Okay, my Aunt Fanny”

She rubbed her cheek on his chest. “You haven’t got an Aunt Fanny.”

“You know what I mean.”

Yes, she did. She loved her job at the veterinary clinic, but one of their best technicians had moved away, so everyone was taking up the slack until they hired someone new. That meant extra work and extra hours. That alone would have been stressful. But lately it seemed that one animal after another was coming in with serious issues. Recently Bree had assisted Dr. Harding as he put down two dogs and a cat. All three had been coming to the clinic for as long as Bree had been there, so it was like saying good-bye to cherished friends.

The Saturday she assisted with the second dog—a darling, albeit ancient, little poodle mix named Fritz—Brianna ended up in tears. They started when Fritzie stopped breathing and continued all through her lunch with Annie.

“I’m sorry,” she kept saying as she blew her nose. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You’re exhausted, that’s what.” Annie’s hazel eyes held an unusually serious glint. “Bree, you take what you do to heart. And it’s been tough lately. Too tough.” She handed Brianna a handful of paper napkins since Bree had run out of Kleenex. “I’ll tell you what you need to do. You need to go home, let Mark hold you, and then tell him you need a vacation. No ifs, ands, or buts. Get away for a while.” Annie reached for the dessert menu. “In the meantime, I’m buying you something sinfully rich and chocolaty to get those endorphins flowing.”

Bree hadn’t argued. She called work and told them she was going home sick. When she got there, Mark was waiting for her.

“Annie called, and I think she’s right. You need a break. I’ve already talked with Ernie and Jane Conrad about a camping trip together, and they said they’d love to go. That way they can watch Amberly for us once in a while to give us couple time, and we’ll take Ethan to give the two of them time together.”

Bree considered arguing for all of a second—she didn’t get
paid vacation, and time away meant less income for the month, not to mention what they’d spend while vacationing—then she gave in. Mark was determined, and budging him when he was like this was next to impossible. Besides, Jane and Ernie were two of her favorite people. And their son was about Amberly’s age.

She smiled. “Amberly will be delighted that Ethan is coming. I think our little girl has a crush on him.”

Mark groaned. “Oh man, I thought I had
years
before I had to worry about Angel and boys.”

Brianna smiled at her husband’s nickname for their little girl. He’d called her that from the day she was born. “Don’t kid yourself. I knew she’d be a heartbreaker the second she opened those beautiful baby blues.”

“Yeah, Well so long as I’m always her best guy.”

Bree pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Hers … and mine.”

“Mommy—” a little hand tugged at her pant leg, pulling her back to the present—“tell me a bedtime story.”

Brianna reached down to gather her little girl in her arms. “You bet, Angel. There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

“You two go ahead.” Mark pulled his jacket on. “I’m going to go see the ranger about firewood before it’s too dark to see anything.”

Bree watched her husband walk down the path. Even after nearly ten years of marriage, the way Mark moved still made her heart jump.

“Mommy, why are you staring at Daddy?”

Bree took her daughter’s hands and swung her around in a circle. “Because I love him so much.”

Amberly squealed, and when Bree stopped spinning, her daughter flung those little arms around her legs, hugging her tight. “He loves you too, huh, Mommy?”

“Yes.” She kissed the top of her little girl’s head. “Yes, he does. And you know what that means?”

Amberly’s eyes widened. “What?”

“That I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

He should go inside.

It was stupid to just keep sitting here. Going over and over the last few days in his mind. He wasn’t accomplishing anything. Except making himself feel terrible.

And crazy.

Jed shoved the car door open and stomped up the stairs to the hotel room. He needed a shower. A really hot one. To wash away this … this … ugly feeling slithering through him.

He dug the key card out of his pocket as he walked. What
was
this feeling?

“Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.”

Fine. Even Shakespeare was working against him now. But the quote fit, because that’s exactly what he felt.

Guilty.

But why? What did he have to feel guilty about? He was just doing his job.

Your job is to lead women on?

He ground his teeth. No. And he wasn’t. All he was doing was giving Annie time to see him for who he was.

A fake? A phony? A liar?

To. Earn. Her. Trust.

In a liar?

“Shut—”Jed jabbed the key card into the slot and shoved the door open—
“up!”

Andy looked up from the camera lens he was cleaning, inquiry lifting his brows. “So? How goes the campaign?”

Jed ignored his friend.

“Not the way you’d expected, eh?”

And his friend’s stupid questions.

Andy leaned his elbows on the table. “What’s the problem, Jed? Things not as simple as you thought?”

Jed turned and started for the bathroom. He didn’t need this.
Didn’t need his best friend prodding him, scraping already raw nerves. Not when his own traitorous mind and gut were flaying him already. He needed time alone to get his head straight.

Pity one didn’t always get what one needed.

Andy didn’t even break stride. He followed him right into the bathroom. “Jed? What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Jed planted his hands on the counter and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Just stared. Hard.

“Oh, no.”

His eyes closed at Andy’s hushed exclamation.

“Ah, Jed. Tell me you didn’t do what I think you did. Tell me you didn’t go that far … ”

Enough! Jed turned, letting his pointed glare speak for him.

Andy didn’t flinch. Just met his glare head-on with one of his own. “Annie Justice is a nice woman. A good woman. She doesn’t deserve what you’re doing.”

Jed turned up the glare.

“Okay, okay, fine.” Andy took a step back out of the bathroom. “I understand. Sometimes you just gotta be alone with your thoughts.”

Jed slammed the door in his buddy’s sanctimonious face. But the door couldn’t shield him from Andy’s voice.

“And your guilt.”

When Jed came out of the bathroom, he walked over to Andy’s equipment.

“Hey, don’t touch the merchandise.”

“Is this everything you’ve taped so far?”

Andy stood, ever protective of his gear. “Yeah, that’s it. Why?” Hope sparked in his eyes. “You change your mind?”

“Do you remember that guy we worked with a few years ago? He moved out here to take a job at the local TV station? You guys were pretty good buds.”

The hope dimmed. “Sure. Vince Caruthers. Why?”

“Because I want to go see him tomorrow.”

“And again I ask, why?”

“To talk him into letting us use their editing equipment. Think hell do that?”

“Probably—”

Jed’s glare stopped the
Why?
he knew was coming. “We’re going to take a look at what you’ve got so far and put together a clip to send to Silas.”

The dark clouds returned to Andy’s brow. “You think that’s smart, huh?”

“I think it’ll keep him excited about the project.”

For one blessed moment, Andy was silent. “You’re heading down a bad road, bud.”

“It’s the road that will take us where we want to be, Andy.”

The sadness in his friend’s eyes almost convinced him he should listen to him.

Almost.

But a voice deep inside reminded him why he’d done all this in the first place. All that he’d lose if he didn’t push forward.

And that voice, by far, was the most persuasive.

TWENTY-FOUR