Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1)

by Melanie Munton

  Plus, I would ask for triple my fee if I got attacked by a bear.

  Needless to say, seeing the movie The Revenant had brought about a whole new level of alertness for me with my job.

  I scoped out the area around me and decided to climb up the last small ridge to my left before I called it a day. From that height, I would be able to get a better shot of the frozen pond that was nestled at the mouth of the valley about a half a mile to the north.

  Angles and lighting were critical with my shoots and having a wide frame camera with the high-resolution capabilities I required was by far the most essential factor.

  But I was just damn good at what I did.

  It was why I was in such high demand in my field. Why my work was featured in magazines and art galleries all over the country, and even different parts of the world. If Kinley Masterson took photos for you, you could bet they were the best damn photos money could buy.

  I took pride in that.

  Fifteen bone-chilling minutes later and I was heading back over to my guide. My fur-insulated snow boots were keeping my feet nice and toasty, but my face was wind-chapped to oblivion and frozen stiff, to the point that it made speaking difficult.

  That claw-foot bathtub in my room back at the lodge was calling my name.

  So was that complimentary bottle of wine.

  Another deep sigh left me. Such a romantic setting. A gorgeous winter landscape outside a frosted cabin window, a crackling fire, a heavenly bubble bath, and a chilled bottle of red wine.

  If only I had someone to share it with.

  This job was my favorite thing in the world…but it could also be the loneliest.

  Apparently, the melancholy of spending yet another holiday season without anyone special was taking over. The feeling-sorry-for-myself part of the evening was starting early.

  I guess it made sense. Christmas was only two days away, after all.

  Ho, ho, ho.

  ##

  “You need to put some more meat on those bones, child, or you’re likely to blow away in this weather,” Rita commented as she set my dinner down on the old oak table in front of me.

  The fifty-something-year-old woman owned the lodge-style bed-and-breakfast with her husband, Mitch. I had been here only three days and was leaving tomorrow, but I had a feeling that I would be receiving a Christmas card from this woman next year. She reminded me of Mrs. Butterworth, sweet and intent on fattening me up. And I mean that in the best possible way.

  I smiled up at her. “Well, keep feeding me like this and I won’t be able to fit through the door.”

  I shoved my laptop to the side to make room for my dinner. I had spent the last four hours sitting at the dining room table going through the images I took, editing the best ones and eliminating the worst.

  My brain needed a break.

  Rita came back from the kitchen with a gravy boat in her hands and sat down, at which point Mitch grabbed the gravy from her hands, slathered his food in it, and started shoveling away his dinner without a word.

  This was one of the best parts about this job: meeting so many different people. I had made friends and connections all over the place, but it was people like Rita and Mitch who were my favorite.

  “Men like a little something to hold onto, you know,” she continued with a devious glint in her eyes. “Don’t forget that.”

  “Well, you definitely have plenty to hold onto,” Mitch cracked as he reached over and squeezed his wife’s side.

  Three days ago I would have been surprised at that, fully expecting the woman to be offended. But I just grinned when Rita squealed at his touch, laughing out loud as she slapped his hand away.

  “Enough out of you,” she said to him, the love in her eyes making them sparkle. “Eat your dinner and don’t embarrass our guest here.” He just smiled to himself as he crammed more mashed potatoes into his mouth.

  I wasn’t really embarrassed. They were one of the most adorable couples I had ever seen, and I admired them for their thirty-nine-year marriage. Even more, I admired that they could still be playful and tease each other at their ages. You just didn’t see that very often these days.

  It made me envious.

  They were living proof that love still existed. It just didn’t happen for everyone like it had with them.

  I was living proof of that.

  “So, you have someplace to go for the holidays, eh dear?” Rita asked.

  If you ever wondered if Canadians really did use the word “eh” as much as the jokes claimed…well, they do.

  “Assuming this weather cooperates, yes.”

  The wind had picked up in the last hour, blowing the trees outside the windows back and forth. I was watching the weather channel closely to make sure I could still get out of here and make my flight on time tomorrow.

  She waved me off. “Oh, this is nothing. You’ll be fine. You have family to visit?”

  I swallowed the bite of stuffing in my mouth before replying. “My parents live in Washington, D.C., so that’s where I’m headed tomorrow. I’ll spend Christmas with them, along with my brother and his girlfriend.”

  “How nice,” she said, smiling. “Our son and his wife should get here with our grandchildren tomorrow. It’s been too long since I’ve been able to spoil those little rascals.”

  “You saw them last weekend,” Mitch mumbled.

  “Yes, but I didn’t get to cook for them.”

  Mitch just rolled his eyes and continued to eat.

  An hour later, I was in my room packing when my cell phone rang. I picked it up, smiling at the screen, and answered. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hi, hon,” her soft voice came over the line. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. How are you? Keeping Dad in line?”

  My father was notorious for thinking he was a Jack-of-all-trades. He always had some project around the house that he was working on and even more now that he was a retired State Representative. He’d had more self-inflicted injuries over the years than any person I’d ever met. My mom had to start taking blood pressure medication just to deal with all of his trips to the doctor.

  She laughed. “He thinks he’s going to re-tile both showers before Christmas. I just kept my mouth shut. It’s only when I tell him not to do something that he puts in the extra effort to get it done.”

  “And it’s only taken you thirty-four years to figure that out,” I replied as I cleaned up the bathroom counter, packing away all of my toiletries.

  “Yes, well. I’m using it to my advantage now.” I heard water running in the background and figured she was doing dishes at the kitchen sink. “How’s the weather up there? You still going to be able to make your flight tomorrow?”

  I looked out the window, though I couldn’t see much with it being dark. “No problems yet. I’ll let you know when my flight lands and keep you posted if something changes.”

  She sighed. “I wish you would let your father come pick you up at the airport. There’s no need to pay for a rental car.”

  “With my car being in New York, it would just be a lot more convenient if I had my own, Mom. I might have some things I need to do.”

  I traveled a ton for my job and primarily lived out of hotel rooms or, in this case, bed-and-breakfasts. But I had made a home base for myself in New York City years ago after moving there to establish my photography career. I grew up in D.C., where my parents and brother—who was now the new Mayor of D.C. as of November 4th—lived, and then I moved to Boston at eighteen where I attended Boston College.

  I’d learned years ago to never get too used to any place or any situation because things could always change at the drop of a hat.

  For better or for worse.

  “Alright,” she said. “Just let me know when you’re on your way over. We can’t wait to see you.”

  Guilt swam over me and I had to clear my throat so I could speak around the lump forming there. “I know. Me too.”

  We said goodbye and hung up. I knew that I had
distanced myself a little from my family ever since I left for college years ago. It wasn’t intentional. It just sort of happened without me even realizing it. I wasn’t avoiding them so much as the memories that being in my parents’ house and in D.C. in general brought to my mind. Those painful memories were what I was trying to protect myself from.

  Truth be told, I left a big part of myself in D.C. a long time ago. A part of my soul had just broken off back then and I hadn’t been able to feel whole again since.

  It was all due to one person.

  I had been gone for that man, absolutely lost in my feelings for him. We had talked about the future. I had told him everything that I wanted out of life, thinking that he would be the one that I would eventually share all of that with. He had owned my heart completely.

  And then he’d shattered it.

  He left me high and dry and acted like I’d never meant anything to him.

  The only man I’ve ever loved.

  Parker Cruz.

  And the worst part of it—the reason that I avoided home like the Plague—was because I couldn’t escape him, not entirely. Because he was my brother’s best friend. He and Clay had been inseparable growing up and continued to be in their adult years as much as both of their careers would allow.

  But I had been doing my best to stay far, far away from Parker Cruz.

  And that wasn’t about to change.

  Chapter Two

  Kinley

  I swear, if I spent half my time on location and in hotel rooms, the other half was spent on airplanes. I was one of those people who could never, ever sleep on planes, though. So over the years, I had created a carefully thought-out plane package, if you will, so I wouldn’t die of boredom during my trips.

  A portable DVD player, my laptop, a stack of magazines, my Kindle, word search booklets, and Dramamine—the original formula that made you drowsy—in case none of the above worked and I just needed to knock myself out.

  Yep, learned that lesson after a thirteen-hour flight to Taiwan early in my career, during which I spent most of my time wide awake and freezing cold, listening to the screaming baby in front of me. I had also watched all of their available movies within the first six hours of the flight.

  Never again.

  I pretty much had it down to a science now.

  Thankfully, once my plane touched down in Dulles International, I had no problems obtaining a rental car and was on my way over to my parents’ house before dusk even set on the city. Despite the reservations I always had about coming back to this city for fear of running into a certain someone, I was excited to spend some time with my family in my childhood home. The last time I was here was for Clay’s election back in November, but I had booked so many shoots around the area for that week, I had barely given myself time to relax.

  I was trying to make sure that I stayed away from him.

  Parker.

  I wasn’t even sure why I always stressed about that so much. He was the third baseman for the Boston Red Sox, so he lived in Boston. He had two older brothers but they both lived in Baltimore. In fact, the only thing actually in D.C. that would ever bring him here was my family. But if he did visit, he usually stayed with Clay at his place, although that was before Clay had started dating Gwen McKindry.

  Parker was usually around my parents’ house for the major holidays.

  And Christmas was the most major of all the major holidays. At least for my family.

  I hadn’t been able to bring myself to ask my mom about him and whether or not he would be making an appearance. I should actually say when. When he would be making an appearance because I was sure that he would be.

  I didn’t know how I was going to handle it, either.

  The past two times we had been around each other hadn’t exactly gone well. First, there was the Fourth of July.

  I could feel him watching me.

  I could feel every time his eyes were on me, could feel every move he made. My body had practically been linked to his ever since he first arrived.

  And that pissed me off.

  My body shouldn’t still respond to him after all these years. After he hurt me the way he had. I’d tried to avoid him for so long—making most of my appearances at home short and sweet for fear of running into him—and seeing him before me, watching me, all those years of hard work suddenly felt moot.

  He wasn’t even supposed to be here. His game had got rescheduled to earlier in the day, though, and he immediately hopped on a plane from Boston to make it here for the weekend festivities. This marked the first time he and I had been around each other like this in…years. I wasn’t even sure how many exactly.

  He showed up right as the fireworks show was starting at the National Mall festival. I hadn’t spoken one word to him, other than “hi” so my family wouldn’t suspect anything. They never knew about Parker and I, had no clue how deep my feelings for him had once run. I planned on keeping it that way.

  He wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to engage me in conversation either. In fact, he looked a little nervous around me.

  The second I’d seen him walking toward us, though, all those old feelings had sprung to the surface, much to my frustration. The anger, the hurt, and dammit…the love. I felt it all and didn’t want to. I wanted to put all of that behind me and finally move on with my life. It had been long enough. I should have been able to by now.

  But my stupid heart protested every time I made any progress in that area.

  I was contemplating all of this in my old bedroom at my parents’ house later that night when I heard a soft knock on the door. Assuming it was my mom, I told her to come in.

  It wasn’t my mom.

  Parker stood there, closing the door behind him, his deep chocolate eyes locked on mine.

  “Hey, Kinley,” he said in that low, steady voice of his that I loved. I could remember it whispering my name right before he’d smother me with kisses.

  Don’t think about that now.

  “What are you doing in here, Parker?”

  If he expected a sweet reunion between us with hugs and smiles and forgiveness, he was going to be severely disappointed.

  He took a tentative step forward and my body stiffened. “I need to talk to you.”

  I tried to keep my voice calm. “About what?”

  My body wanted to get as far away from his as it could, but his stare pinned me where I was on my bed. “You can’t keep avoiding me,” he replied. “They’re going to know something is up.”

  Was that what he was worried about? The laugh I released held no humor in it. “It’s worked so far. Don’t worry. I’ll keep up this annoyed routine, so they’ll assume I’ve never been anything more to you than a bratty little sister.”

  “Kinley…” he warned. His voice had an edge to it.

  “That’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I’ll ever be to you.”

  He took another step forward but stopped himself from advancing further. “No, that’s not the truth. I—” he paused, looking uncertain about what he wanted to say. “I’m sorry, okay? How many times do I have to say that? I’m sorry for how I handled everything back then. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I thought—”

  I put my hand up. “Don’t,” I grated, trying to subdue the temper rising in my tone. “We’re not re-visiting the past tonight. It’s dead and buried. I don’t need your apologies, Parker. I’ve moved on from that. We both have. So just leave it alone.”

  I would not soften at the hurt I saw flash in his eyes. “This was why I resisted things for so long, you know,” he said, the words gutting me. “So that this would never happen. I never wanted our entire relationship to be ruined.” I wasn’t looking at him but I could hear the emotion when he added, “I never wanted either of us to get hurt.”

  My head snapped around to see him standing there with his hands on his hips and his head down. He looked dejected but it didn’t stave off my anger. “And whose fault was that?”

  He nodded and
then looked back up at me, his eyes pleading. “How can I make this right, Kin?”

  The use of the nickname that he always had for me felt like a punch to the solar plexus. “There’s nothing to make right. It happened a long time ago. We’re both adults now so I’m sure we can handle being in the same room together.” Maybe.

  His jaw clenched and I could tell he wanted to say more. But he also saw my expression that was very clearly telling him it wasn’t an option.

  I was done with re-opening old wounds today.

  He eventually nodded slowly and started to move backward to the door. When he had the door partially cracked, he stopped but didn’t turn around to face me again. His voice was barely a whisper when he spoke but I heard every word.

  “You were always more than just Clay’s little sister to me. You’ve always been more than that.”

  Then, he left.

  And I cried myself to sleep over Parker Cruz for the first time in a very long time. Even after I’d told myself many years before that such a thing would never happen again.

  I would be stronger this time, though. I had an invisible force field around my heart and I wasn’t going to let anything he said or did penetrate it. No matter how gorgeous he looked or how much my body wanted to be close to his.

  It wasn’t going to happen.

  Besides, based on the last time we had seen each other in person—at Clay’s election in November—he seemed to have learned his lesson and hadn’t brought up the past once. In fact, we hadn’t said more than four words to each other before I hightailed it back to New York.

  But even though we hadn’t talked to each other, the experience had still been as painful as it had been in July. Because at the election results party, I had to watch him flirt with other women. It was the first time I had been exposed to that in person since we had our falling out.

  While I was visiting with family and friends and silently supporting my big brother, I had to stand there and watch Parker charm the pants off every woman under the age of forty in that bar. The jealousy was so irrational and I had been so incredibly angry at my heart for still being that vulnerable around him. I had to watch him smiling at them, making them laugh, while they drooled all over themselves, and understandably so. I had once been on the receiving end of those smiles.