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Authors: Donna Kauffman

Off Kilter (11 page)

BOOK: Off Kilter
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If she only knew. He doubted she’d be laughing then. He
sure as bloody hell wasn’t. How he had gotten himself into that, he had no idea. But he was going to excuse himself right the hell back out of it again. No Kira, no Tessa. No women of any stripe.

At least until after the wedding was over and everyone got the nuptial stars out of their eyes. Himself included.

Chapter 6

W
ith Roan’s truck trundling along somewhere in the distance behind her, Tessa pulled into the small courtyard on the north side of the croft. She left enough room for him to pull in next to her, and cut the engine, wishing she had a better handle on how she was feeling at the moment. Partly amused, yes, but also … disconcerted.

It had been clear to her that Katie was doing her level best to shove Roan and Kira together. A shoving that Roan had just as clearly been trying to avoid. That part was amusing. And it explained a lot. The day she’d been an unwitting player in his motorbike fiasco, he’d balked when she’d suggested he shower and clean up at the croft. She hadn’t known what to make of his sudden stuttering self then, but she suspected she understood now.

Either Roan had the hots for Kira and wasn’t acting on it, or Katie was trying to play matchmaker and Roan wanted no part of it. The latter possibility would have rung more true—had it not been for the motorbike incident.

Katie hadn’t played any role then. Surely Roan could have accompanied Tessa back to the croft, cleaned up, and even if word had gotten out that he’d done so, she hardly thought anyone would have assigned any meaning to the visit other than the obvious. Kinloch might be a relatively isolated spit of an island, but from what she’d observed, the villagers who made
their home there weren’t backward or particularly prudish, not if their behavior during the calendar shoot had been any indication.

It left her with the other alternative. Roan was interested, but wasn’t openly pursuing Kira because … well, she had no idea. Though she might have pigeonholed him a bit too quickly as a guy who got by on his charm and good looks, he certainly had no lack of ego and self-awareness. Surely he wasn’t shy about women, or the pursuit of them. It was clear the women on the island all adored him. Some more vocally than others, she thought, recalling the moment he’d started peeling off his kilt.

Her mind stayed on that image perhaps a bit longer than was wise, but it also reminded her about his comments regarding his unease with the whole photo shoot, and having not looked at any of the pictures she’d taken. She smiled, then she grinned, then she shook her head as she laughed to herself.
Could it be? Roan McAuley, shy?
She hardly thought so. He was confident, outspoken, the island darling. But … maybe that’s because on Kinloch, where his role was assured, he could be brazenly charming and wallow in the love and affection directed his way. He trusted those people.

Would he be so brazen in other situations? Was it his nature to flirt and flatter, or was it just expected of him? Maybe he was only giving the crowd what they wanted, so to speak, as he had at the photo shoot—using other people’s preconceived notions of him to get what he wanted. She thought about that for another second and dismissed it.
No. He loved his role here.
He reveled in it. He might not be personally all that invested in his own appearance or what it could get him, because, frankly, he didn’t have to be. That he would turn heads no matter where he was probably didn’t even occur to him. Maybe having to think about that was what had made him uncomfortable during the photo shoot. But that still didn’t explain his odd behavior with Kira.

Why wouldn’t he openly pursue her if he was interested?
They’d both grown up there, and though Kira had been gone from her teen years until just recently, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t trust her to accept him for who he was, as he did the rest of the islanders.

She let her thoughts spin out a bit. Maybe he’d tried and Kira had shot him down. Her friend hadn’t talked at all about how she felt regarding dating again, much less becoming emotionally entangled … but Tessa wouldn’t be surprised if Kira simply wasn’t ready for any part of it. Wouldn’t Roan know that? Everyone knew every last damn thing about each other. It was disconcerting. And maybe a little endearing. Their hearts were good. So … either Kira had shot Roan down, or he’d known better than to try. Yet.

Oh, for God’s sake, Tessa. Why on earth do you care?

She could say that it was concern for her best friend. That certainly played a role, but she knew Kira could hold her own. She’d certainly held up through far worse. Though guilt pinged Tessa again, she knew from personal experience there was absolute truth to the saying that what didn’t kill you, did make you stronger. Turning down Roan’s advances likely wouldn’t have tested Kira’s mettle. Though initially Tessa had less than generous thoughts about the man, she had no sense that he would do anything to jeopardize Kira’s peace of mind.

No, she knew why she really cared.

She looked up as Roan pulled in next to her. And her pulse tripped all over itself when their gazes briefly collided.

Yep. She knew exactly why.

She shoved open the door of the car and climbed out just as Roan was coming around the back of his lorry. She took one look at him, all rangy body and messy curls, his trousers hanging just a bit low on his hips, the fit of his plaid work shirt just a bit too snug across his wide shoulders, and her libido joined her pulse in the little salsa number they liked to do every time she caught a glimpse of the guy. So she was attracted. So what, she reminded herself. She was female, after all. Didn’t mean squat.

He smiled. She scowled. “I’ll unload. Why don’t you go see if you can drag Kira out of her studio.” She shot him a glance. “That is if you can man up and ask the woman to dinner.”

Roan stopped short, the smile that had been on his face fading. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said, and popped the boot open so she could unload her gear.

“Aye, I did. I’m no’ deaf. But what in the hell was that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, McAuley. Despite my initial impression of you, it doesn’t suit you.” She lifted the trunk top, blocking her view of him, only to have him push it gently, but firmly, right back down again.

“It’s no’ a lack of intellect when you haven’t an earthly idea of what the other person is spoutin’ on about.”

Tessa knew she should stop talking. She was keenly aware that she’d likely already made a huge tactical error. Until such time as she could be around the man without wanting to throw him up against the nearest wall or down on the nearest flat surface and do every last thing she fantasized about doing with him, it might behoove her to keep her damn mouth shut. And while she was keeping her damn mouth shut, it might also be a good idea to figure out what was really going on with her where he was concerned.

“Nothing,” she said. When he merely stared at her, his hand still pinning the trunk lid down, she let out a sigh and repeated the word, but more calmly this time. “Nothing. Ignore me and my attitude. Let’s go see if we can roust Kira out of her nest. She could use some time outside these four walls.”

Roan’s expression immediately changed to one of sincere concern, but when she thought he was about to say something, he remained silent.

It took her aback, to see how much he cared about her friend. It had been an instinctive gut reaction she’d just witnessed. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her, that he obviously had feelings for Kira, but she wished—fervently—that it didn’t.

“What?” she prodded him, deciding the only way to diffuse … whatever the hell it was she felt and thought when he got within spitting distance of her, was to poke and prod it out into the open—so she could deal with it, and squarely tuck it away where it belonged.

“I—” He broke off, clearly unsure about talking to her at all on the subject of Kira, then relented. “You’re her friend. Do ye think she’s doin’ okay?” Gone was the cocky guy, gone was the guy who had no problem getting right in her face the instant she got in his. Instead, there was a man who was obviously worried about someone he cared about. She had no way of knowing if it was simply because they had grown up together, or if his concerns ran deeper, and were more personal. That he cared and the feeling was sincere, wasn’t in question.

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. When his expression grew even more vulnerable, she felt a twinge of something far too close to envy for comfort. “Kira doesn’t talk about … things. And, to be honest, I haven’t been the kind of friend I should have been in recent years, so I don’t know what I’d otherwise know. She seems to be doing well. I know she’s here because it’s a good place for her to be.”

Tessa held his gaze directly. She wasn’t sure how much Kira had shared, or how much anyone knew about why she’d come back. Tessa wasn’t about to be the one to spill anything Kira didn’t want spilled. “If you’re worried, though, you should talk to her yourself. You have a common past here. Maybe she’ll open up to you.”

He held her gaze for a beat longer, and his expression shifted from one of concern to one that was more focused on her. It made her feel like stuttering.

“You said she should get out more. Do you think she’s hiding? I mean, she does stay pretty holed up. I haven’t been certain if that’s just her way now … if she’s merely someone who enjoys her privacy, or if …”

Tessa swore silently. He was looking at her in the way women everywhere would pay to have their man look at them.
With concern, intent, and focus. Only his thoughts weren’t really on her, but on what she could do to help him figure out the woman he was really interested in.

“If what you want to know is if she’s ready to go out socially—with you—then ask her and find out,” Tessa said, a bit more flatly than she’d intended. It wasn’t Roan’s fault, after all, that his interests lay elsewhere. He’d certainly never led her to think otherwise, and, again, why in the hell should it even matter? She couldn’t be interested in him anyway.

Even if her life wasn’t already upside down and turned inside out, whatever her future held, it was most definitely not on Kinloch.

Roan lifted his hand off the trunk lid and stepped around the back of the car until he was standing right next to her—right inside her personal space. “I worry about her because I care. Just like I care about everyone on this island.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” she said, trying like hell not to respond to his nearness in any visible way, even if her throat was suddenly dry, and her knees weren’t quite as steady as they’d been moments ago. It was stupid and foolish to let him get to her like he did. She’d be damned if she’d let him get even an inkling of it. “The whole island seems to get that it’s more than just neighborly concern on your part. Does Kira know?”

She’d expected his expression to cloud over, or for him to look at least a little self-conscious, or even get a tiny bit defensive. He clearly wasn’t at ease with his feelings where Kira was concerned and not remotely like his normal confident, charming self when she was the subject of the conversation. Other than Katie’s playful nudge, no one else seemed willing to push him on the matter. Tessa was willing. Especially if it got him out of her face and beyond touching distance.

But he didn’t retreat. No. He grinned. Suddenly he was all charm and dimples and self-assured swagger. “There isn’t anything for Kira to know.”

She snorted, which only served to widen his grin. And add a mischievous light to his devilish green eyes.

“What I wonder,” he said, “is why you’re so bothered by my concern for Kira.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. She’s my friend, she’s had a few big life changes, and she’s come here for some peace and quiet. I’d get in anyone’s face if I thought they were planning to disrupt that.”

“But you just told me to ask her out. Grudgingly, I might add.”

“Maybe I don’t consider you a threat. And I might worry—that’s what friends do—but, trust me, she can hold her own. She’ll be the first one to shoot you down if she’s not interested. But rather than dance around and stutter and fall all over yourself—so unattractive, by the way—why not just go ahead and ask? Find out one way or the other and put yourself out of your obvious, pining away, misery.”

“I’ve asked myself that many times.”

“You’ve—what?”

“You heard me,” he said, and his grin was tempered just a bit. Mostly because that damned vulnerability had crept back in again.

Her heart sank, which was her heart’s own damn fault. It knew better than to get all fluttery. “So, what’s holding you back?”

“We grew up together, and I guess”—his smile turned wistful and affectionate—“I guess I’d always had a bit of a soft spot for her.” He grinned broadly then, making his dimple wink. “She didn’t have the time of day for me, of course.”

“Some women become discerning at a very early age.”

He laughed at that, and she couldn’t seem to help herself or the wry smile she gave him in return.

“But that didn’t stop me from showing off, of course,” he said.

“Of course. Unimpressed, was she?”

“Deathly so, aye. Then we grew up and she left for school in London, and”—he lifted a shoulder—“it was a nice childhood memory.”

“Except then she came back, and … the memory, or the feelings that went with it, weren’t completely buried in the past after all?”

“To be honest, I don’t know what they were. But she returned, and … I noticed.”

“And … you did nothing. Fat lot of good that’ll do you.”

“I hadn’t seen her since we were kids. Word was she’d come back home again after … that life change you were talking about. I was being polite, didn’t think she’d appreciate the full-court press right off.”

“She’s been back for a year and a half. How polite do you think you need to be?”

He didn’t take offense at her directness. Actually, that was one of the things she admired about him. He gave as good as he got, and didn’t seem intimidated by her take-no-prisoners attitude.

“Initially,” he replied seriously, “I was deferring to her state of mind. She didn’t talk about her time away, so everyone here left her to her own path. I figured when she finally stepped out and became more social, I’d pay her more than a business call.”

BOOK: Off Kilter
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