The Heartless Boyfriend

by Erika Kelly

  “After training tomorrow, I’ll take you into town. As for food, it’s pretty simple. I eat meat, vegetables, nuts, and fruits. Mostly, the first three.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yep. No bread, rice, potatoes, sugar, or alcohol.”

  “Um, okay. I can work with that. This’ll be fun, actually. I’ll work on some interesting dishes.”

  “I don’t need fun or interesting. I have an almond butter and banana protein shake when I get back from training in the morning. Either a chicken or salmon salad for lunch—loaded with vegetables. Steak or pork chop for dinner. And lots of sweet potatoes.”

  “That’s…” Boring. “Basic. No variety?”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay, then.” She didn’t think she’d ever met anyone so regimented in her life.

  Which was a good thing. He might fascinate her—all that dark, brooding energy, and the way he deftly handled everything being thrown at him—but he was way too uptight for her.

  And that meant she wouldn’t be crushing on her hot athlete host.

  Swiping the perspiration from his forehead, Will yanked open the back door and stomped into the mud room. He’d promised Delilah he’d take her into town this morning, so he’d make his protein shake and then hit the shower.

  “Wun, Wheel, wun.” Ruby rocked her little body in the backpack.

  “Nah, Rubes. We’re done.” He kicked off his running shoe so hard it slammed into the washing machine. Normally, a ten-mile run would drain all the frustration out of his system.

  Not today.

  Because one thought kept cycling through his head: the League didn’t have to suspend him. They could—should—defend him. He suspected they were sticking it to him because he was an outsider. While most competitors trained at the League’s facility in Utah, Will had always had a private coach who’d lived on the ranch.

  After Brodie’s accident, his dad had hired Coach Peterson to teach his sons how to use their bodies—to develop their musculature, flexibility, and strength for their extreme sports adventures in the Tetons.

  That’s what his dad had said, but Will suspected he’d understood the brothers hadn’t wanted to be separated again.

  Did he party with his teammates? Not usually, no. So, yeah, he could see how he might be perceived as an outsider. But he supported the team in other, more meaningful, ways.

  So, for them to turn against him…it shook his very foundation.

  I win because I score higher. Period. It wasn’t luck. It wasn’t favoritism. And it certainly wasn’t money. It was about focus and discipline. Commitment. It was about never giving up.

  And, frankly, winning a gold medal was motivation enough. You never wanted to lose again.

  Little legs kicked his ribcage. “Gee-yup!”

  A smile cracked through his internal rant. “We’re done riding. It’s time for breakfast.”

  Time to see Delilah. Just the thought of seeing her bright smile pushed out all the dark thoughts. He unclipped the buckle at his waist and gently loosened the straps from his shoulders, sliding the backpack to the floor. Reaching under her arms, he lifted her out.

  “Let’s get this hat off you.” He untied the ribbon under her chin and peeled the floppy hat off her sweaty head.

  A deep, raspy voice came from the kitchen. Lachlan. “Want to go see your uncle?”

  “No, fanks.” She nestled into that spot they’d discovered yesterday, where she molded to him perfectly. “I hongry.”

  “Then let’s fill that little belly.”

  At the stove, Marcella stirred a big pot, and his uncle poured himself a mug of coffee. The kitchen table sat empty, the pantry door was closed, and he heard no other sound.

  Disappointment plucked his nerves. “Where’s Delilah?”

  “Not up yet.” Marcella glanced over her shoulder and gave Ruby a warm, loving smile.

  His uncle just stared. With his shock of white hair naturally styled like a pompadour and a full white beard and moustache, he looked at Ruby with an intense and conflicted expression.

  Since getting the paternity results, Lachlan hadn’t interacted with her much. He and Will’s dad had been extremely close. No one had gotten over Mack Bowie’s death—and he doubted they ever would—but it seemed hardest on Uncle Lachlan. Mack had been his person.

  Seeing his brother’s face in Ruby had to be tough. It was for Will, too, but in a sweet way. He had a piece of his dad, alive and warm, in this house again.

  “So, how’s this gonna work?” Lachlan asked.

  “Come here, my darling.” Marcella reached for Ruby, but she clung to Will.

  I got her, he mouthed, bringing her to the table and settling her on top of the booster seat. Marcella handed him a melamine bowl of oatmeal, and he plopped it down in front her. “Gobble up.”

  “Gobbo, gobbo.” Ruby plunged the spoon into the bowl.

  He turned back to Lachlan. “I’ll have a nanny hired by the time Fin gets back in August, when he takes over, and then, once everyone’s home, we’ll look at the calendar and figure out who gets her next.”

  “You’re gonna pass her along like a baton?”

  Will shot him a look. You’re bringing this up now? They could’ve used his input a week ago. “If you’ve got a better idea, we’re open to it.” He strode to the refrigerator and jerked it open. “We’ve thought about it from all angles, and this is the best plan.”

  “Scock, scock, scock.” Bouncing her stuffed chicken on the table, Ruby shoveled oatmeal into her mouth.

  “What’d she just say?”

  Will poured himself a glass of unsweetened tea. “Squawk. It’s a chicken. Anyhow, once we hire a nanny, we’ll have some consistency. I’ve talked to agencies in Denver, LA, and New York City, and I’ve set up a few video-conferencing interviews.”

  “Not gonna be easy finding someone to live out here.”

  “No, but in the meantime Delilah’s in town.”

  “I’m staying, too,” Marcella said.

  He stopped before the glass reached his mouth. “You’re taking the summer off.”

  She glanced towards the table. “That was before.”

  Oh, hell, no. Marcella had come to live with them about a month after his mom had moved out. Hired as a housekeeper, she’d jumped in to fill all the important roles in their lives—not the least of which was caregiver. She needed the break. “You’re going. We’ve got plenty of help between me, my mom, Delilah, and this old man.”

  “Delilah’s only here for two weeks,” Marcella said.

  He knew that—obviously—so he didn’t know why it moved through his body like a cold fluid. It was just…she brought something new and different—exciting—to this house. And he liked it. Wanted it.

  “Besides, it’s too late. I already cancelled my ticket.”

  Will reached for the cell phone he’d left on the counter.

  “What’re you doing?” Marcella asked.

  He hit their pilot’s speed dial. As always, she answered on the first ring. “Hey, Sarah.”

  “Morning, Will.”

  “How’s it going? Your sister doing better?”

  “She’s absolutely fine. It was a scare, and she’s got some road rash, but luckily nothing more.” She drew in a breath, obviously still rattled by the motorcycle accident. “Anyhow, what can I do for you?”

  “Glad she’s okay. I’m going to hand the phone over so my overworked and underpaid”–Marcella snorted—“house manager can arrange her travel plans with you. She’s going to Michigan, and we want her out of our hair as soon as possible.”

  “Oh, please. You can’t live without me and you know it.” Marcella grabbed the phone, mouthing, You sure?

  He held her gaze, wanting to make sure she heard him. “You’re right. We can’t live without you. But we’re covered for the summer, so I want you to go.”

  She reached up and caressed his cheek. “You’re a good boy, Will.” Giving him an appreciative smile, she walked into the
mud room to take the call.

  “So, you’re training, you’re standing in for Brodie at Owl Hoot while he’s out of the country, and you’re taking care of the kid?” His uncle’s voice was gruff.

  “It’s my off-season.” And I’ve been suspended. “And Brodie hired an event planner. I’m only here if she has questions or problems. Besides, everyone on the board’s in town, so she’d turn to them first.”

  Marcelle swept back into the room, handing off the phone. “Done. But if you need me for any reason, I’m a quick flight away.”

  “She’s a two-year-old. How much trouble can she be?”

  The thwack to his head made him whip around. Marcella’s arm was cocked back with a dish towel in her hand, ready for a second snap.

  “Hey, I’m trying to make sure you enjoy your vacation.”

  “Delilah seems good with her, yeah?” Lachlan asked.

  He thought of that first night, the way Ruby’d been slumped in her arms, the way Delilah had swayed like she was hearing a slow song on a dance floor. “Yeah.”

  He’d about lost his shit when Delilah told him Ruby’d asked about her mom. He’d immediately understood why his sister hadn’t been sleeping.

  The first night she’d come to stay with them, he’d caught her in the living room. Up on her knees on the couch, belly pressed against the cushion, she’d stared out the window. That was why they’d put up the gate.

  He hadn’t known at the time, but she’d been waiting for the flash of headlights in the driveway that signaled her mom coming home.

  Fuck. He knew just what that felt like—remembered lying in bed, waiting for the sound of the door, his mom’s voice, her heels in the hallway—except he’d been much older. And his mom hadn’t died.

  He had no idea how to explain death to a little girl. Fortunately, he’d found a lot of books on the topic. He’d handle it.

  “Seems like a lot of people coming and going, but who’s staying?” Lachlan asked.

  The truth stabbed him right in the conscience. “Believe me, I worry about the same thing. But what can we do?” He’d find a way to make it work. He had no other choice.

  “Tough situation.” His uncle looked him in the eye. “She’s in good hands.”

  Coming from his uncle, a man of few words, that meant a lot.

  “You ready for some breakfast, old man?” Marcella called.

  Will didn’t miss the spark of humor in his uncle’s eyes. “For your slop?”

  “I’m happy to give it to someone who appreciates it.” Marcella started to pull away the bowl of oatmeal filled with slices of apricots, almonds, chia seeds, and almond milk, but Lachlan reached out and grabbed it.

  With a booted foot, he pulled the chair away and dropped onto it.

  “Sorry to say it’s not raw bear flesh or whatever it is you usually eat,” Marcella said.

  “A man gets tired of raw flesh. Gets stuck in my teeth. Don’t mind mixing it up with some gruel every now and then. Makes me feel like I’m atoning for my sins.”

  Lachlan stuffed a big spoonful into his mouth. For a few moments he and Ruby ate in companionable silence. And then Lachlan lifted a rucksack off the floor and set it on the table.

  Untying it, he pulled out a pine cone and examined it in his big, coarse hand. Then, he closed his eyes and sniffed it. “Pine cone.” He set it down and carved another spoonful of oatmeal out of the bowl.

  Ruby’s spoon clattered, as she reached for the pine cone with both hands. She lifted it, sniffed it, then closed her eyes. “Pie co.”

  Marcella flashed a look to Will, and they shared a smile.

  His uncle pulled out a small rock. He held it up to the chandelier over the kitchen table and turned it in different directions. Then, he set it down between them.

  Ruby picked it up and held it to the light. “Pwee wock”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty,” Lachlan said. “But it’s not just a rock. It’s a schist.”

  “Shist.” Ruby pumped her little arm, as if ejecting the rock into outer space.

  His uncle leaned over, quietly explaining about the plate-shaped mineral strains.

  “Good morning.” Delilah’s soft voice sounded a little raspy.

  Will spun around a little too quickly—eagerly—and immediately felt like a fool. Heat rushed up his neck, fanning across his cheeks, and burning the tips of his ears.

  “I can’t believe I slept so late.” Her slightly sunburned face looked fresh and scrubbed clean, her long hair neatly brushed, but her pink plaid tank top was inside-out and didn’t match her blue and gray striped pajama shorts. “For the life of me, I couldn’t fall asleep.”

  Will grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. He handed it to her. “Headache?”

  When she reached for it, their fingers brushed. Their gazes connected, and heat billowed through him.

  “The worst.” She looked away, drinking greedily. “Thank you. How’d you know?”

  “We’re sixty-three hundred feet above sea level,” Marcella said. “The altitude takes some getting used to. Keep hydrated, and that headache’ll go away. Also, sunscreen. Use it all the time.”

  “Oh, I learned that lesson yesterday.” Delilah turned on the faucet and filled her glass again, downing it like a frat boy at a keg stand.

  Gusto. That was the word he’d use to describe the way Delilah experienced life.

  “I hate to do this to you since you were only supposed to cook the occasional meal,” Marcella said. “But I’m leaving tomorrow morning and—”

  “Oh, no worries,” Delilah said. “I already told Will I’d take over the cooking. Honestly, it’ll be my pleasure to cook for them.”

  “First of all, that one…” Marcella gestured toward Uncle Lachlan who was still canoodling with a fascinated Ruby. “Has his own cabin and spears whatever unfortunate beast happens to cross his property.”

  Uncle Lachlan lifted his head and gave her a dull look.

  “And even if he does wander over here, you’re not obligated to feed him.”

  “She can feed me,” his uncle said.

  “You want to be fed, show up at a recognized meal time.” She turned to Delilah. “He’s like a bison. He does what he wants, when he wants. So, if he just shows up, don’t think for a second you have to go out of your way for him. We’re not running a diner here.”

  “I cook for a busy restaurant and a big family, so there’ll be plenty of leftovers. He can roll in whenever he wants.”

  “Guess I know where I’ll be spending my time,” Lachlan said. “Now that someone’s laid out the welcome mat.”

  “Make him take off his shoes,” Marcella said. “Otherwise he’ll track scat all over my clean floors.”

  “Scat?” Delilah’s tone held a touch of humor.

  Will liked how nothing fazed her. “Poop.”

  Delilah’s eyes went comically wide.

  “Anyhow, while I’m gone you’ll only have to cook for Will and my little punkin-pie-sweet-pea-muffin-head.”

  “You never called me cute names like that,” Will said.

  “You weren’t cute.”

  Uncle Lachlan barked out a laugh.

  “Ruby thinks I’m cute. Right, Rubes?”

  Her chair scraped back, and her little feet hit the floor. Clutching her chicken, she toddled over to Will, wrapping her arms around his leg. She peered up at Delilah. “You gots my shock-let?”

  Delilah dropped to a crouch. “You mean our yummy chocolate banana bran muffins?”

  Ruby nodded, thrusting out Scock. “We hongry.”

  When Delilah cast a questioning look up at him, the direct eye contact hit like a taser to his spine. Thrown, he gave her a tight nod. He didn’t want Ruby eating crap, but in that moment, he didn’t give a damn. Delilah could do anything she wanted.

  “Awesome.” She got up and headed toward the pantry, her nicely rounded ass cheeks filling out the pajama shorts in a way that made his entire body wake up and pay attention.

&nbs
p; He hung out with a lot of athletes, so he was used to women with toned, tight bodies. Delilah’s was softer, rounder, and it unleashed a dangerous desire.

  Coming back with a Tupperware container filled with muffins, she popped the lid and held the box out for Ruby. “Here you go.” The smell of chocolate wafted out of it.

  “Hey, now.” Uncle Lachlan practically knocked back his chair to get his big paw on one of them. He shoved half of it in his mouth. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

  “Oh, so we finally found something you’ll talk about then?” Marcella took one for herself. “Must make for scintillating conversation with the moose.”

  Delilah held the box out to Will. “I didn’t know your diet when I made these, but with you being an athlete and all, I tried to make them as healthy as possible.”

  “Carbs, sugar, butter…” Marcella shuddered. “That’s the work of the devil in this house.”

  “I didn’t use butter, and the only sugar comes from the bananas and apple sauce. That’s why I used so many spices.”

  His uncle grunted with satisfaction, hoisting a second muffin as his vote of approval.

  Will watched Ruby pick out the chunks of chocolate and stuff them in her mouth like they were the antidote to the poison in her gruel. His uncle reached for a third muffin.

  “Looks like they’re a hit.” Food didn’t tempt Will. Not usually.

  But, just then, watching Delilah’s teeth sink into the brown cake, her tongue sweep out to lick up the crumbs, her eyelids flutter closed as if reveling in the flavor, that muffin tempted him pretty damn hard.

  She swallowed. “You don’t have to eat them, but I used buckwheat and wheat flour, some bran, and just a tiny bit of honey. It was unpasteurized, so I thought it’d be okay.”

  She’d made the effort for him, and he didn’t want to let her down. Besides, he was suspended, so what the hell. He bit into the soft cake, and a world of flavor filled his mouth. Cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, bananas—and that decadent, smooth hit of dark chocolate.

  Damn, that’s good. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d paid attention to the way something tasted.