Thrill Me (5 page)

Phoebe had only wanted one attendant, and that was Maya. Chase would stand up with his brother.
A family affair
, Maya thought, still touched by the decision.

“I can't wait,” Maya told her, and meant the words. She wanted to be there when Phoebe married Zane. She wanted to be a part of things. She might not have gotten the network job she'd wanted, but coming back to Fool's Gold was going to be a good thing.

An hour later Maya hugged Phoebe goodbye. Before heading to her car, she detoured by the barn. Zane kept his office there. She found her ex-stepbrother working on his computer. When he saw her, he smiled.

“Phoebe said you were stopping by. Did she mention the dresses will be in soon?”

Maya stared at the man who had always seemed so disapproving and stern. “Seriously? You want to talk wedding fashions?”

“If it's important to Phoebe, it's important to me.”

She grinned and took the visitor's chair. “Is that a chill I feel from the depths of hell?”

“Just taking care of what matters.”

Maya couldn't believe how mean old Zane had changed. Although the truth was, he'd never been old or mean. He'd been the one trying to hold the family together after his father died, and neither she nor Chase had made that job easy. His younger brother had been more than a handful and she'd enjoyed pushing Zane's buttons.

She studied him now, taking in the handsome lines of his face. In truth, they weren't blood relatives and they'd only lived in the same house for two years. A case could be made that they could have fallen for each other. Only from the second she'd met him, she'd seen him as a brother. An annoying brother with a stick firmly planted up his ass, but family all the same. From what she could tell, he'd thought the same about her. Minus the stick.

Which meant he'd been available to fall for Phoebe. A fact that still made Maya very, very happy.

“She does want to discuss what color the Jordan almonds will be. Lilac, light blue or mauve.”

He made a note on a pad of paper. “I'll talk to her about it later.”

She blinked. “Really? Just like that.”

“Sure.”

Maya shook her head. “You really are crazy about her. There's no Jordan almond question. I was just messing with you.”

His mouth curved into a smile. “I'm happy to help her decide. After I look up what they are.”

“Thank God for Google.”

“Absolutely.” He studied her. “It's nice to have you around, Maya.”

“It's nice to be around.” She thought about her earlier conversation with Phoebe. How she'd felt safe for the first time when she'd moved to Fool's Gold. How her teachers had cared and she'd gotten a scholarship for college.

“Was it you?” she asked. “Who funded my college scholarship?”

Zane shook his head. “Sorry, no. I should have offered to help pay for it, but I didn't think of it. Money was tight back then, so I don't think my dad would have agreed.”

She remembered. But their brand of money being tight had been a whole lot nicer than her mother's.

“I just wondered. Somebody put up the money. Mayor Marsha would never tell me who.”

“Maybe they wanted to be anonymous. You should let it be.”

She laughed. “Because I'm going to start taking your advice now?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Maybe, but that's not one of them.” She stood and circled the desk, then gave him a hug. “You're going to research Jordan almonds, aren't you?”

“Of course.”

Which only made her love him more.

CHAPTER FOUR

D
EL
SAT
ON
the front porch stairs of his cabin. It was late in the afternoon but still a long way from sunset. The temperature was warm and the kids in the area were out playing. He could hear shrieks of laughter, along with friendly taunts.

Being lazy felt good, he thought, reminding himself he should enjoy the moment. Because soon enough he would get restless and want to be doing something. The question was what. He wasn't an entrepreneur by blood. He'd stumbled into his sky board company in an attempt to please himself. Despite the many offers to collaborate, he wasn't interested in trying to duplicate the success.

A sleek gray convertible pulled up next to his battered truck. The visitor's car screamed LA and he knew who it was before she got out.

In the past ten years Maya had changed, the way women did when they grew up. Like the car, she was sleek, with great lines and plenty of power. The analogy made him chuckle. He doubted she would see the compliment.

She wore jeans and boots. A simple loose T-shirt had been tucked into her jeans. She slung a tote bag over her shoulder as she walked toward him. She looked confident and sexy. A nearly unbeatable combination.

For a second, as he watched her, he remembered what it had been like before. When Maya hadn't been quite so in charge. When she'd stared at him wide-eyed, her mouth trembling right before he'd kissed her.

Their first meeting had been a lightning strike—at least for him. He'd seen her and wanted her. Later, when he'd gotten to know her, he'd found himself as attracted to every part of her. Hearing her laugh had made his day brighter. He'd fallen hard, and for that entire summer, he'd known she was the one.

When she'd accepted his proposal, he'd expected they would spend the rest of their lives together. He'd imagined kids and a yard and everything that went with happily ever after. When she'd dumped him...

“Hey,” she said as she approached.

He wrenched his mind from the past and focused on the present. Maya stopped at the porch stairs and held out her tablet.

“I brought over a copy of that video Mayor Marsha mentioned. I thought it would give you an idea of how I work.”

The video she'd claimed to know nothing about?
Curious
, he thought as he stood. Why had she pretended to be confused and why the change of heart? He thought about asking, then decided it was probably a chick thing and he was better off not knowing.

“Let's take a look,” he said, and headed inside.

The cabin was simply furnished with an open floor plan. The kitchen and living room were up front with a half wall dividing the sleeping area from the rest of the cabin. The only separate area was the small three-quarter bath.

Del walked to the square dining table by the window and sat down. Maya handed him the tablet, but instead of sitting next to him, she hovered just behind his right shoulder.

“Just push the button,” she told him.

“Nervous?” he asked without turning to look at her.

“A little. It's my work.”

Which implied it had significance to her. He got that but, “It's not like my opinion is going to make a difference.”

“You're the subject. Of course I care what you think.”

Good to know
, he thought as he glanced at the screen.

The frozen picture showed him just after he'd jumped from an airplane. He pushed Play and the piece started.

It was about two or three minutes long with Maya providing the voice-over. The footage was all stock stuff, easily available on the internet. There were clips from other interviews he'd done while he'd still been involved in the sport and later, when he'd transitioned to entrepreneur.

When the video ended, he turned to look at her. “This wasn't for your TV show.”

She gave him a nervous smile. “No. You were famous, but not that famous.” One shoulder rose and fell. “Unless we were talking about your love life. Then you made the show.”

“At the end,” he said absently, thinking that his relationship with Hyacinth—a world champion figure skater—had captured the media's attention, if only on the periphery.

“I did some freelance work,” she added. “Pieces like this that could be used on local morning shows.”

He turned back to the tablet and tapped the screen to watch it again. This time he turned off the sound and studied the pictures. She'd taken ordinary shots and woven them together into something greater than the individual clips.

She was a good editor—better than good. He'd taken some video himself and tried to edit it, and the results had been dismal.

“Nice,” he said, pointing at the screen. “I like what you did here. You cropped the shot differently. Or something.”

She pulled up a chair and settled next to him. “You're right. The action was great, but you weren't at the center of the frame. I moved you as best I could. The line of sight is better, too.”

She kept talking and motioning to the action playing on the tablet, but he wasn't paying attention. Not anymore. Not when he could inhale the scent of what he guessed was her shampoo, or maybe her lotion. Maya had never been one to wear perfume. Although he guessed that could be different now.

She'd changed just enough to be intriguing, he thought. The line of her jaw was tighter. Her walk a bit more determined. He didn't know what she'd been through over the past ten years, but whatever it was had honed her.

She probably saw differences in him, too, but he found those less interesting. He knew what had happened to him. None of it was especially compelling.

He turned and looked into her green eyes. Ten years ago he would have sworn that he would never forgive her for what she'd said. For how she'd rejected him. For lying. Now he searched for residual anger or resentment and there wasn't any. They'd both been gone too long for any of that to matter.

She was a beautiful woman. Under other circumstances, he might have been tempted. But while he could forgive and move on, he wasn't going to give her a second chance. Not when he knew she hadn't told him the truth. She had said that she loved him and wanted to marry him, but it had all been a lie. Still, they were going to work together. It made sense to be friends.

“Want to have dinner?” he asked.

She blinked. “There's a shift in topic. Now?”

“Sure. We can go to the store and grab a couple of steaks. Barbecue them here. There's a communal grill by the lake. You in?”

She gave him a slow, sexy smile that hit him like a fist to the gut.

“I'm in.”

They rose and walked toward the front door.

“Wait,” she said, and ran back for her tablet, then tucked it in her tote. “I can't let my technology out of my sight.”

He nodded, because it was still too difficult to breathe, let alone speak.

He knew what that fist to the gut meant and he planned on completely ignoring the message. He was willing to forget the past, to work with Maya and even to be her friend. But he was never going to allow himself to be tempted by her. Not now, not ever.

Been there, done that and bought the T-shirt. He was a guy who looked forward. To something new. And that didn't include her. Once his mind was made up, Del refused to be swayed. There was no way he was going to let Maya get to him.

* * *

M
AYA
PUT
THE
green salad on the table Del had carried from the kitchen to the grassy area on the side of the cabin. From there they had a clear view of the lake. Because of how the other cabins were spaced, that side of his place was relatively private. They could hear the other families, but not see them or be seen.

Under other circumstances, she would have thought the setting romantic, but she knew better. She and Del were collaborating together. This was a working relationship, which she appreciated. They were both professionals. They respected each other's abilities. If she found him handsome and appealing, well, that was nice, but not helpful. Or useful. Friendship was much better. Or at the very least, safer.

She returned to the kitchen for the bottle of red wine they'd purchased, along with the deli potato salad. She collected two glasses and went back out just as Del called that the steaks were done.

They met at the table and each took a chair. He used the jumbo tongs to put her steak on her plate while she poured wine. Music drifted out from one of the cabins, and down by the water, several children shrieked and laughed.

“There's a lot of humanity around here,” she said as she passed him the green salad.

“I like it. Being around kids is fun. They always have the most interesting questions and so much curiosity about what life is like everywhere. That's what I got asked the most when I traveled. Is America really like the movies?” He grinned. “That and if Wolverine was real.”

“What did you say?”

“That he was one of the good guys.”

She laughed. “I didn't know the two of you were close.”

“I don't like to talk about it.”

“Fool's Gold must seem so small,” she murmured, and cut into her steak. “How do you stand being away from your bromance?”

“He texts me all the time. Sometimes it gets annoying.”

She nodded. “I can imagine. Speaking of famous people, have you seen your dad?”

“Killjoy.”

“Should I take that as a yes?”

Del leaned back in his chair. “I stopped by the house and saw both my parents. My father wanted to talk about Nick wasting his talent.”

Maya remembered how Ceallach had always preferred the three younger sons. The ones who took after him. “I suppose there's some comfort in consistency.”

“That's the optimist in you. I prefer to think of my father as...” He reached for his glass. “No reason to go there.” He sipped. “Yes, I saw my father and he seems well.” He glanced at her. “Are you going to be helping my mom with the plans for my dad's party?”

“I've offered. Why?”

“Because it's a lot for her to do on her own.”

“You could take care of some of it.”

“I'll do my best, but you know halfway through, she'll take it all away from me and explain how she can do it better.”

Maya sighed. “Yes, she will. Elaine does like to maintain control over every situation.”

“So do you.”

“I wish. I gave up control a long time ago. A hazard of the job. There are a million things that can go wrong on any given story and I've had to deal with them all.”

“Is that why you left television?”

“Partly. I left because I was tired of beating my head against a wall that was never going to give way.” She frowned. “Is that what's supposed to happen? The wall gives way? You break through. Man, I hate it when I don't think through a cliché.”

He grinned at her. “Good to know you're not perfect.”

“I'm far from that.”

Miles
, she thought.
Miles and miles.
Although being with Del was nice. More comfortable than she would have thought. He'd always been easy on the eyes, but she'd thought there might be some tension between them. Because of how things had ended.

Apparently not. Here they were, having dinner as if they were old friends. She took a bite of steak. Maybe they were. Maybe they'd both moved on enough that the past didn't matter.

“There's no Mr. Farlow?” he asked, the question unexpected.

“Uh, no. What about you?”

“No Mr. Mitchell,” he said, his eyes bright with amusement.

She groaned. “You know what I mean.”

“Hey, my romantic life was public knowledge.”

It had been, she thought. “That kind of comes with being semifamous and then dating a beautiful figure skater,” she said gently.

“Semifamous.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Way to go for the kill shot.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You know what I mean. You were known, but not a tabloid regular. Plus, you're not interested in fame.”

“You sure about that?”

She studied him for a second, then nodded. “Absolutely.”

He picked up his wine. “You're right. I never liked that part of dating Hyacinth. There were choices made to put us more in the public eye. I didn't love those, either.” He shrugged. “Relationships are all about compromise.”

There was something in his tone. “You say that like it's not a good thing.”

“Oh, it can be. Until one person needs the other to go too far.”

Interesting
, she thought. Not that she had a clue what it meant. She'd heard that Del and Hyacinth had broken up, then gotten back together for a short period of time before ending things a year or so back. What she didn't know was why.

There had been speculation that one or the other had cheated. She would put her money on Del staying faithful. Despite his traveling lifestyle, he was a traditionalist at heart. A one-man, one-woman kind of guy. She couldn't say for sure how she knew that, but believed it down to her bones.

“What about you?” he asked. “You had the luxury of a private life. Who do you want to trash over dinner?”

“No one,” she said with a smile. “There were relationships and they didn't work out.”

“Or there'd be a Mr. Farlow?”

“Exactly.”

She'd dated, but had never gotten serious with anyone. Not since Del. She'd figured out the reason. She'd learned early that she couldn't trust anyone to rescue her. She was going to have to take care of herself. While that wasn't inherently a bad thing, it had kept her at an emotional distance from the men in her life. The ones who had wanted more had been frustrated by her reluctance to risk getting more involved.

Unfortunately, knowing the problem didn't seem to make it easier to solve. As long as she wasn't willing to take the chance, she would never have that elusive happily ever after ending. A part of her genuinely didn't think she had it in her to love anyone, so why try? But without trying, she would never get there. An emotional paradox.