Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1)

by Melanie Munton

  That warmed my heart. “That’s wonderful to hear. It’s nice to know that my work isn’t just in magazines and galleries but actually in people’s homes, too.”

  Felicity laughed. “Oh, it definitely is. We actually even have one of your photos hanging in our dining room. Daydream Road?”

  I immediately knew exactly which photo she was talking about and absolutely loved that they had it in their home. “That’s one of my favorites,” I told her. “It was down in New Orleans. It wasn’t even at my site location; I just happened to stumble upon that area. Some of the best pictures I’ve ever taken, though.”

  The humidity that day had been unreal too, I remembered. But when I’d seen that dirt road, surrounded on either side by dozens of trees, their limbs hanging over the road, Spanish moss dangling from them, I’d forgotten about the humidity and got lost in a daydream. Hence the name. It was like the setting for a suspense novel, but it also had an ironic romantic feeling to it. It was like a spell had entranced me, capturing me and holding me prisoner in another world. The South had so many of those vibes to it, which was one of the reasons I loved the region so much.

  Felicity started asking about my recent work, seeming genuinely interested, and we spent the next fifteen minutes engrossed in a conversation about my photo shoots and the pieces of mine that she loved.

  I decided that Felicity was adorable and sweet. She was a few inches shorter than me and reminded me of a little fairy, like Tinkerbell. She had a heart-shaped face and a tiny body that made me just want to pick her up and put her in my pocket.

  When we finally surfaced from our conversation, I went over to talk to my parents for a minute and realized I had to go to the bathroom. I was walking toward the front entrance of the ballroom when I saw him, stopping me dead in my tracks.

  Parker was about to walk through the main doors and his eyes connected with mine the second he began scanning the room. Like me, his feet halted and his eyes burned holes through me. Even across the room, I could feel the heat from that smoldering gaze. His attentions flickered down the length of my body, his eyes showing appreciation, before coming back up to rest on my face.

  And just like that, my heart began beating out of control.

  The way he looked at me, the way his attentions made me feel, elicited a visceral reaction every time I saw him. To the point that I could no longer control it.

  Not a good sign.

  Suddenly, he blinked several times and gave a small shake of his head. Then, he forced a smile onto his face and gave me a small, goofy wave. In the spirit of renewed friendship, I smiled, waved back and walked over to him.

  If he wanted to be friends, I could be mature about it. I would hide the fact that I wanted to peel his suit off with my teeth and lick him from head to toe. That my legs trembled more with every step I took in his direction. And I would definitely hide the fact that my panties went damp at the mere sight of him.

  Like I said, champagne was not going to be strong enough for tonight.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kinley

  I hadn’t seen him since New Year’s but I could still feel that kiss he’d laid on my hand that night. In fact, the area that had been covered by his hot mouth even tingled a little.

  It was ridiculous but other parts of my body were jealous of that hand. Even as he’d held my hand under his lips, certain parts of me had been screaming out in protest, demanding that he focus on them, too. Like my mouth and my breasts and…well, other parts.

  That was just in the heat of the moment, though. Because I was glad he hadn’t pushed for more. That would have totally shot this whole “let’s be friends again” plan straight to hell.

  But I couldn’t deny that standing in front of him again, within kissing distance of that wicked mouth of his, made me want to feel said mouth over me.

  I changed my mind. Something stronger than champagne was not the way to go tonight. No alcohol whatsoever would be my best bet.

  The last thing I needed was lower inhibitions.

  “Hey,” Parker greeted me as I stopped in front of him.

  “Hi.”

  I hoped my smile didn’t show how excited I was to see him. Because against my better judgment, I really was glad that he was here.

  His eyes flickered down the length of my body again. “You look great.”

  I could feel my face heat but I told myself it was just the champagne. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

  That didn’t even begin to cover it. His suit made him look like a suave, sexy pirate. Or a darker, hotter James Bond.

  Friends. You’re friends. Just friends.

  “Yeah, well. Birthday or not, I couldn’t let Clay have all the attention tonight.”

  I rolled my eyes at him, doing my best to ignore the kinds of attention that he most certainly would be getting tonight. There were tons of rich, attractive women here and not all of them were married.

  Change of subject was needed.

  “I don’t know if I ever thanked you, by the way,” I told him.

  His brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”

  “For buying my photo on New Year’s. I know you were just being polite, but you didn’t have to do that.”

  His expression slowly morphed from one of confusion to one of disbelief. “I didn’t buy it to be nice, Kinley. I bought that for me.” When his body shifted slightly, leaning toward me, I found myself matching his movements, bringing myself closer to him. “Let’s just say that it reminds me of a happier time,” he continued, his voice lowering. “And now it’s hanging up in my living room.”

  Oh, man.

  Knowing that Parker had one of my photos in his living room where he could see it every day—especially that photo, the one that I knew was as personal to him as it was me—was too much. We both knew why he bought that specific picture, and now he’d brought it out in the open.

  And since I was such a coward, I bolted.

  “That’s great. Um, I mean…well, thanks again. But I’ve got to use the restroom.”

  Smooth.

  Geez, pull yourself together.

  In the bathroom, I gave myself a much-needed pep talk. I may not have been equipped to handle all the memories of Parker and the emotions that went along with them. But I could deal with it for one night and treat him like the friend he wanted to be.

  If I couldn’t survive it for one night, then there was no hope for me whatsoever.

  An hour later, I was forgetting why I’d even been freaking out in the first place. Not because of alcohol—I’d actually steered clear of it—but because Parker and I had fallen into our friend roles quite easily. We had talked all night, catching up on all the years we’d missed out on each other’s lives, laughing and going back and forth in comfortable comradery.

  He wasn’t treating me like an awkward ex, nor like Clay’s little sister. He was behaving like any normal friend, just like he said he wanted. Sure, there was some flirting going on and no, he hadn’t really left my side all night. But there wasn’t this underlying pressure between us to talk about the past or to figure out what was going to happen next with us.

  I was actually enjoying being his friend, happy with it.

  I had not expected that. At all.

  “So, tell me your weirdest fan story,” I said, taking a bite of Clay’s birthday cake.

  We’d made a big show of singing “Happy Birthday” to him, blowing out the candles, and cutting the cake. He’d been scowling under his smile the whole time. He hated making a big deal out of his birthday, and this was the worst case scenario for him.

  It made me laugh.

  “My weirdest fan story?” Parker asked with a smirk.

  “Yeah. Like the weirdest place they’ve asked for an autograph or a crazy stalker story or something.”

  He took a drink of his punch as he contemplated it. He swallowed as he nodded his head and turned back to me. “Okay. Well, there was the time a girl proposed to me.”

  I waite
d for the punch line but realized as I stared at him that he was completely serious.

  “Some random woman proposed to you? Like actually proposed marriage?”

  He nodded, smiling. “Oh, yeah. I was helping coach one of my teammates’ kid’s tee ball game. She comes up to me after the game, takes my hand in hers,” he said as he took my hand in his, staring into my eyes dramatically, “and says, ‘Mr. Cruz, you’re my hero and I love you. Will you marry me?’”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said, ‘Absolutely. Let’s just wait until you get a little older and then we’ll get married.’ I mean, I couldn’t turn her down. That would have hurt her feelings.”

  I just raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

  He laughed. “She was six. One of the kids on the team.”

  I started to laugh, almost spitting out my cake in the process.

  He grinned at me and fell back in his chair, stretching out his long legs. “So, I’m now officially engaged to a first grader. Better spread the word that I’m off the market.”

  I finally swallowed the cake and wiped my mouth as he watched me with silent amusement. Those eyes of his had been watching me too intently all night, so I tried to avoid them as much as I could.

  “Okay, but I asked for the weirdest story. Not the cutest.”

  He sighed. “Well, there was the time someone sent a comb to me in the mail.” I waited for him to continue. This one sounded promising. “The note that came with it said they wanted me to use it and send it back to them so we could say we shared the same comb.”

  I cringed. Creepy. “Look on the bright side, I guess. At least she didn’t send you a lock of her hair. Or nail clippings or something.”

  He gave a single shake of his head. “Never said it was a ‘she.’”

  I tried to control the smile. I tried really hard but he knew it was coming.

  “Don’t you do it,” he warned.

  I couldn’t help it, couldn’t hold it in. I burst into laughter, cackling until my stomach started to hurt. He groaned and covered his face with his hands.

  “I’m sorry,” I wheezed between breaths. “You’re right. Men wanting to share combs with you is nothing to laugh about. It’s hard to be you, I understand.”

  He shook his head at me and attempted to hide his smile behind his glass of punch but I definitely saw it. “You repeat that to anyone and there will be consequences.”

  I put my hands up. “Hey, you shouldn’t give me the ammunition if you don’t want to be a target.”

  “Well, there’s a scary image,” Parker grumbled. He put his elbows on the table, propping his head on his hands, focusing solely on me. “Okay, so what about you? I’m sure you’ve got some photography stories.”

  “Weirdest or scariest?”

  His mouth spread into a grin, making one dimple pop up on his left cheek. It was only ever that one on the left side. I remembered that well.

  “I didn’t realize you could have scary stories in photography,” he commented, his tone light.

  Think again. “Well, there was my encounter with a mountain lion.”

  His grin immediately disappeared, a grave look of concern washing over his face. That concern made my insides feel a little too warm. “What happened?”

  I shrugged, picking at the tablecloth, knowing his eyes hadn’t left my face. “It was, like, three years ago. I was in Montana, at a shoot for a hunting lodge up in the mountains. I was out taking shots and wandered a little too far away from my guide when I saw this big mountain lion down the ridge from where I was at. I saw him in my lens first and when I pulled my camera away, I realized that he was looking right at me.”

  It was actually a moment I would never forget. I’d never admit out loud how terrified I was that he would charge. My guide, who had a gun, was nowhere near me and that animal could have easily attacked and done serious damage, if not killed me, in a matter of seconds.

  Parker was listening closely, his eyes burning, as he waited for me to continue. “It felt like we stared at each other for hours. Neither one of us moved. I don’t even think I was breathing as I waited for him to either charge or slink away. I should have been looking for a weapon to use if he came at me, but I couldn’t think about anything right then. My mind was completely blank, my body was frozen. I mean, I was scared. But all I really remember thinking about was how beautiful he was. Stupid.”

  When I realized a few beats of silence had passed while I was lost in my memory, I shook my head and looked back at Parker. “He thankfully got bored with me and ran off.” I laughed. “I even remember being mad at myself that I didn’t get any good photos of him.”

  He didn’t say anything for a minute. Just looked at me like I was out of my mind. I guess that story kind of made it seem that way.

  “Jesus, Kinley,” he finally scoffed. “Do you realize what could have happened? How bad that could have been?”

  It wasn’t something I liked to think about. “That’s why I carry a knife with me now, and I know better than to leave my guide behind.”

  He snorted. “That’s not going to do much good if you have a sudden close encounter with something. Things can happen before you even have a chance to react.”

  When I heard the edge in his voice, my eyes flew up to his. I saw frustration there and his shoulders were tense. The conversation had turned serious and I didn’t like it. I wanted to go back to laughing and joking around. I wanted to see him smiling at me; not scowling like he was doing now.

  This just felt like it was getting emotional.

  I didn’t need more emotions to deal with.

  “It’s no big deal, Parker. My work is outside. Nature is my office and sometimes that requires me to be in the wilderness. But I know what I’m doing. I’m careful.”

  “Sounds like it,” he muttered under his breath.

  Okay, the attitude wasn’t really necessary. “It’s nothing for you to worry about. My job is none of your business.”

  The muscles in his jaw ticked, his lips thinning. Anger was radiating off his face as he glared at me, which I didn’t exactly understand. I had been stupid that one time, yeah. But he didn’t have to get all huffy about it. It’s not as if we had even been speaking to each other at the time.

  And it really was none of his business.

  I didn’t want to fight with him after the progress we’d made tonight. But I was also not going to let him judge me or scrutinize any part of my job or how I did it.

  Maybe he was thinking the same thing because he abruptly stood up, grabbed my arm, and pulled me out of my chair. “Let’s dance.”

  He dragged me onto the dance floor, joining a few other couples, and took me into his arms, pulling me to him with one hand while the other wrapped around one of mine.

  “Would it kill you to ask next time?” I asked indignantly, annoyance clear in my tone. “Maybe you should have just thrown me over your shoulder and carried me over here.”

  His face was still hard when he leaned down and said in a low, gravelly voice, “Don’t push me. I’m not opposed to that.”

  Beyond confused with his behavior, I swallowed my snarky retort and decided to leave it alone. We needed to get back on friendly ground somehow. And once again, Parker seemed to read my mind.

  “You know, sometimes it still feels weird being in a room like this with these people.”

  I looked up at him to see his eyes wandering around the room as we drifted across the dance floor. His arms around me made me feel safe and warm and treasured. It felt right to be in his arms, which just confused me further.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, trying to prevent my lower half from brushing up against his.

  “I probably have more money than half the people in here, yet I still feel like trash compared to them.” His voice held a hint of self-deprecation, making me completely forget my frustration with him.

  I recognized that tone. It was the same one he used to have when we were younger and he would tell m
e about his childhood, what it was like growing up for him. Granted, he never told me a lot because it was difficult for him to open up about it, but he always sounded so defeated, always beat himself up. I hated when he talked about himself like that. He was one of the most loving and kind-hearted people I’d ever met, our past relationship notwithstanding.

  He didn’t deserve to be called trash by anyone, not even himself.

  “Don’t say that,” I told him, my voice stern. “You’ve earned your success, Parker. No, you didn’t really luck out in the parent department, but you rose above all of that. You’re better than that. You’re nothing like them so don’t ever think it.”

  His head turned back to me, his face softening at my words. “You always had a way of convincing me that I could be more, you know. You believed in me before I ever did.”

  So much for a less emotional conversation.

  I tried to pull away, create a little more distance between our bodies, but he tightened his grip on my waist, stopping me. “It was hard for me sometimes growing up, Kin,” he continued. “But you never treated me like the emotionally messed up, dirt poor kid that I was. Nobody in your family did…but you were different.” His eyes penetrated mine, gazing so deeply into them I was sure he could see straight into my soul. “You always looked at me differently. Like you were in awe of me sometimes. It never made sense to me.”

  I could barely breathe as memories of the past accosted my mind. My heart actually hurt from what he was making me remember. Everything that I once had and then lost.

  But I couldn’t have prevented myself from responding to him. “I was in awe of you. You’re the strongest person I know. I can’t even imagine what you had to deal with when you were younger, but I know that you never let it break you. You are who you are today because of your past, not in spite of it. And that says a lot about you.”

  If there could ever be a more intense look on a person’s face than Parker’s right now, I couldn’t imagine it. At those words, his face darkened, with emotion but also with something else. The lust in his eyes was unmistakable. The desire emanated from his dilated pupils and his grip had become almost suffocating.