“You’re still not sure of me, are you?” he asked.
“Are you of me?”
“I’m sure that when you commit to something, you do what you set out to do. I trust your word. I trust-yes, I trust you, Kirby. I know people.” Something flickered in his eyes then, and she wondered if he was thinking of his friend Dan. “I know enough to be comfortable with my decisions, anyway. Just think about it.”
“Okay, I will,” she said, knowing she had a hell of a lot more to think about than just whether or not she wanted in on his business venture.
“When do you plan to start?” she asked.
“It will depend on what the weather decides to do over the next few months. There’s a ton of preliminary work to be done before any actual work takes place. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy until spring.”
She debated for about five seconds before just blurting out the crux of what was holding her back. “Will you be doing this preliminary work here? Or are you going back to Vegas?”
“Here,” he said, clearly surprised at the question. “I meant what I said when I asked about me staying. I am staying, Kirby.”
She took a steadying breath. But her heart was already off to the races again. “What about home? Your friend Dan? Vanetta?”
“I tried to talk to Dan about it last night, see if he wanted in on the building phase, but…things there…” He trailed off, and the sadness and confusion was clear on his face. “I don’t know what the hell is going on there, to be honest. But I’m working on that, too.”
“So…you really are staying.”
He reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “That was my plan.” He took her hand, tugged her closer. “Good plan or bad plan?”
“Good plan,” she said somewhat distractedly, still trying to sort through the onslaught of questions and emotions this sudden turn of events had set to swirling around inside her head. Along with all the ones she already had. But one thing she knew. “You staying is very good.”
“I can move out of the inn, if that makes it better.”
“Makes what better?”
“Whatever it is about this that has you feeling…I don’t know. Trapped? I didn’t mean for it to be like that. I know I’m excited about this, and there’s no way I can hide that; I don’t want to, even if I could. But don’t let my enthusiasm for this make you feel crowded and pushed into a corner. I don’t-”
“No, it’s not that. I think it’s pretty fantastic that you’re excited about this. I don’t know what I feel about my part; I have to think about that. I haven’t even decently launched my own place yet, so-”
“So, don’t worry, or even think about it. It’s months away.”
“Months,” she echoed, trying to imagine having months with him. It was everything she wanted. And his excitement about having her be part of it was flattering and not a little thrilling. Except-
“Tell me what’s going through your mind, right now. Uncensored.”
“Okay. I was thinking that I’ve already had a relationship with someone I worked side by side with, and to be honest, it makes me a little nervous to think about-”
“Listen, just scrap what I said, okay? We don’t have to mix business with pleasure. I’m not going to risk what we’re starting for that-”
“I didn’t say no. Just that…it’s all part of the stuff going through my head. You’re not Patrick. And this situation is far, far from that. Just…give me some time. To get used to it.” To get used to the idea of him being around. Of letting herself want the impossible. Again.
Because it seemed so…so very possible, right now. It was scary. In a very good way. Also in a completely terrifying, “run for the hills and protect your heart” kind of way.
“You can have all the time you need.” He caressed her cheek, urged her face to tilt up to his. “You sure you’re okay with the me staying part, though? Be honest with me, Kirby. I didn’t come here to cause you trouble. You deserve the life you’ve carved out for yourself. I just want to be part of that, and build my own while I’m at it.”
“The problem is I want it too much,” she said, baldly honest. That was the one thing with Brett that made this entirely different. He made bald honesty not only easy, but pretty much mandatory. “It scares me. How much I want what you’re offering. How much I want you.”
All in, indeed.
His pupils flared at that, and he might have made a little growling sound in the back of his throat. “That…” He stopped, ducked his head, and cleared his throat. “Wow,” he managed. “I had no idea how badly I needed to hear you say that. Until you just did.”
She smiled a little then, no less terrified, but realizing that she wasn’t the only one dancing on a dangerous ledge made facing the terror that much easier. “Kind of scary, right?”
“You forget. I like high stakes.”
Her smile spread, and the very beginnings of allowing herself to accept what might be possible started to bloom inside her heart. And her head. And…every-damn-where. “You’ll have to teach me to play. Poker, I mean. I want to understand more what it is you do. Did. Whatever.”
“Deal.” Then he laughed and swung her around again. “You feel like taking the inaugural peek inside? We can come back another time-”
She shut him up by placing her hands on either side of his face and pulling his mouth to hers. For once, she was taking the lead. And as soon as she kissed him, and felt him immediately relax, and soften, and take her so easily and perfectly and naturally…she understood as she never had before what true power there was to be had in a complete partnership. And it didn’t consist of one leader and one follower.
This was nothing like before. This was…new. And it was hers to decide what to do with, and how she wanted it to be. At least to work for her. She wasn’t surrendering control. She was taking on a new challenge. And damn, but maybe she was up for it after all. Because, the reward, if she pulled if off, was priceless.
When she broke the kiss, she lifted up on her tippy toes to hug him, and he swept her up so they could hug good and proper, everything aligning so perfectly. She kissed the side of his neck and felt his pulse thrumming, which set hers to thrumming, too. “Okay,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m all in.”
Then she snatched the keys from his unsuspecting grip and wriggled out of his arms. “Come on. Let’s go see what you’ve gotten us into. Last one to the front door is a rotten poker player.” And she took off toward the house.
Chapter 19
Brett throttled down as they rolled through town, then punched it a little as they neared the turn up to the inn. He wanted to get home. Where he was going to make love to Kirby and end the perfect day with the perfect night.
He couldn’t believe it was all going to work out. She’d loved the farmhouse and his design concept for it as much as she had with the log cabin. He’d called and put an offer on the place on their way back into town. What a lucky, lucky bastard he truly was. Hell, Kirby had even admitted she’d gotten used to the bike. Total package. He had the most ridiculous urge to beat his chest and howl at the moon.
They rolled to a stop in front of the house; the sun had sunk enough to cast the front of the house in deep shadows. The air had a distinct bite to it, and Kirby shivered as she let go of him and climbed off the bike.
“Maybe some wine, have the leftovers from last night?” she asked.
He wanted to scoop her up and head to the nearest bed, but pacing, given the rush he was feeling, was probably not a bad thing.
“Sounds perfect,” he said, and meant it. He took her helmet and then slipped his hand in hers as they walked toward the porch. He was thinking about how easily he pictured himself doing just this for a very long time, when she suddenly paused.