Her Unexpected Engagement (Checkerberry Inn)

by Kyra Jacobs

  “Fine.” He pushed back from his keyboard and flashed her a falsely bright smile with teeth clenched behind it. “What can I do for you, darling?”

  She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” When she didn’t budge, he motioned toward his keyboard. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m trying to work here.”

  “You’re not working; you’re stewing. Which means you aren’t getting anything done.” She strolled into the room and plunked down in the chair across from him. “What I’m trying to figure out, though, is what could possibly have you in such a bad mood today. Especially after that date with your college fantasy girl.”

  “It wasn’t a date,” he growled.

  She studied him for a long minute, then rose from her seat. “Come on, we’re going into town.”

  “Why would we want do that?”

  “To get some food in your stomach, and get away from here so you can talk about what’s really bothering you.”

  “I don’t need food, and I don’t need to talk. I need to work.”

  She arched one brow, and Miles felt the fight in him dissolve. He did want to vent, to get Kayla’s interpretation of Stephanie’s reaction to him this morning. Damn it, when had he become such a girl?

  “Fine. But only if we can swing by Chevvy’s and grab my car on the way back.”

  Victory smoothed her features. “Deal.”

  Half an hour later they were shimmying into opposite sides of a corner booth at EAT. It was Brent’s favorite dive and where he and Kayla’s world had first collided—literally—and so by default it had become her favorite, too. Miles, however, didn’t share their sentiments. In fact this was just one place out of many he wouldn’t miss a bit after the move. If he got the job.

  “Whatcha want?” Kayla asked.

  “Hand sanitizer.” He looked around at the cracked floor tiles and tattered bar stools perched expectantly beside a countertop that separated the dining area and adjoining waitress station. Beyond that stood a grease-stained wall that might have been white a million meals ago which hid the kitchen from the patrons. A glassless, wide-shelved cutout gave the cook a place to set his artery-clogging concoctions. “Lots of it.”

  “You’re such a snob.”

  Kayla chuckled, and its musical sound drew a smile to his face. Brent was a lucky guy, no doubt. As was Miles, since she’d assumed the role of his surrogate little sister. A role left vacant since Stephanie had moved away and got married.

  Was that why he hadn’t been able to make a move in college? Because he’d thought of her as more of a little sister than dating material? Or had he just taken her presence all those years for granted? Most likely the latter. When she’d put some space between them in college, he hadn’t known how to take it. Had it been a test? Had she been honest last night when she’d said she’d wanted to kiss him for years?

  But then came Liam, and Stephanie moved on. Maybe she’d gotten tired of waiting around for Miles. Maybe Liam had truly made her happy once upon a time. Just like single life had made Miles happy once upon a time.

  Wait—since when had it stopped making him happy?

  Maude moseyed over to take their order, then steered for the cutout to pass their ticket through to her burly cook husband. They owned the place, had for years, and never had he seen them be anything but cordial to each other. Loud, sure, with all the “New Order In!” and “Order Up!” yelling back and forth, but also lots of winking and “Thanks, toots.” They made the whole relationship thing look effortless. As did Brent and Kayla, who had grown so lovey-dovey this summer that Miles found himself gagging at times…and jealous the rest.

  Yes, it was true—he’d become jealous of what they had together. The closeness, the support, the devotion. It’d come fast as a freight train and rocked both their worlds. But for him? Sure, he’d had women in his bed that had certainly rocked his world for a night or two, but he’d never felt any kind of emotional connection to them.

  Why was that? Was there something wrong with him? Some gene he was missing, absent in his chemical makeup just like it was for both his parents, too?

  His parents had only stayed together for him. Oh, they hadn’t meant for him to hear their argument and later compromise, of course. They’d thought he was in bed asleep. But he had heard, and their honesty sliced his ten-year-old heart to ribbons. After that, every time they smiled, every time he’d seen them embrace, he knew it was a lie. All a lie.

  Just like happily ever afters.

  Kayla cleared her throat. He shifted his gaze from the kitchen cutout and found her staring at him expectantly. It seemed his time for internal reflection was over.

  “Can I ask you something, Kay?”

  “Sure, shoot.”

  “Doesn’t the idea of settling down…worry you? You’ve always struck me as a pretty independent woman. Stubborn, of course, but independent.”

  She threw him a flat look.

  “Seriously—the idea of getting all serious and moving in with someone, especially to a guy you only met a few months ago, doesn’t bother you even just a little?”

  “Well, it’s not like we raced out and got married after our first date.”

  Miles waggled his brows. “Or first night together.”

  “Anyway, we’re taking things a day at a time. Moving up here was a scarier step to me than getting serious with Brent. I mean, leaving my dad back in Fort Wayne to fend for himself wasn’t an easy decision to make. But between Dad practically packing my things for me and Tommy’s excitement over having another family member trade Indiana for Michigan, moving became an easier pill to swallow.”

  She turned her face toward out the window beside them, squinting out into the sunshine. “But none of that was why I truly made the move, Miles. When I left you all, left Brent, it felt like I’d left half my heart in Michigan. Returning helped me feel whole again.”

  “So, you felt coerced to stay with Brent?”

  She laughed. “No, nothing like that. More like…hollow without him. Incomplete. So to answer your question, no, the idea of getting hitched doesn’t bother me. Sure, I’m a little nervous, but I couldn’t ask for a better guy to fall in love with.”

  “Well, he couldn’t ask for a better gal, either.”

  “Thanks, Miles.” She sighed, and both brows pulled into an upside-down V. “I just wish we could find you someone around here to make you happy, too.”

  “Trust me, I’ve been through the Mount Pleasant barrel, even reached the bottom a time or two. That woman doesn’t exist.”

  “Well, maybe you haven’t looked hard enough. What about Maddie? She’s pretty, and the whole family already adores her. Plus, she makes the best omelets.”

  “Um, no. While I agree with all of that, she made it very clear to me that we were in no uncertain terms not to cross the friend/coworker line.” He sighed at the memory. He’d barely made it past “hello” before she’d shut him down. That woman read him like a book. “Though, to be honest? That’s probably a good thing. I’d weigh five hundred pounds if I started dating Maddie.”

  Kayla laughed. “It’s sad, but also so true. She needs to find someone that doesn’t like food.”

  “Or has an insanely high metabolism.”

  “Right. Okay, so you’re thinking someone not from Mount Pleasant. What about our infamous Ms. Fitzpatrick? She’s not from around here anymore.”

  Miles felt the smile slide from his face. “No.”

  “What happened last night?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on,” she said, her tone light and coaxing.

  “No, really. Nothing is what happened.” Miles ran a hand through his hair. “The evening started as planned, with me making an appearance during her interview. But then her future boss sprang the idea of us attending some big charity event together. Next thing I know, she’s having second thoughts and hyperventilating while I’m trying to get her back to her suite before she passes out.”

  “Yikes.�
��

  “Yeah, that whole mess with her ex really screwed with her. And I hate seeing her like this, because it’s the opposite of how she was when we were kids—always bold and confident, giving the world a perpetual one-finger salute.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I took her to Chevvy’s to get some food and maybe a beer or two to help her unwind. No one there was going to recognize the ex-wife of any golf pro. But she wouldn’t drink unless I did, so—”

  “You called Brent.” She grinned.

  “Yes. Thanks for understanding, by the way.”

  “Anytime. Also gave me a chance to raid the freezer while he was gone. He doesn’t know I know where he keeps his secret stash of Ben and Jerry’s.”

  “Thief.”

  “Am not. I live there, remember? And don’t change the subject. I’ve been dying to hear about this date.”

  Miles frowned. “It wasn’t a date. We ordered wings, did some shots, drank some beer, and swapped memories from our glory days. When it got late, I texted Brent to take her back to the inn. But she didn’t want to go back yet, didn’t want to be alone.”

  “I can understand that.”

  Sadly, so can I. “So when she asked to come back to my place, I figured one of us could sleep on the couch or something. But then she kissed me.”

  “Wait—she kissed you?”

  “Is that so hard to believe?” Miles frowned. “You know what? Don’t answer that.”

  Kayla tried to disguise a laugh as a cough. “Okay, so, wow, she kissed you first. Must have been a dream come true, right?”

  Technically, their first kiss had been her sloppy one in the car. But at his place last night she’d really kissed him—and that had been a dream come true. The scene replayed in his mind for the hundredth time today. The kiss, the plea to not make her beg, her nearly choking him as she tugged his shirt off.

  Them moving to the bedroom.

  Her falling asleep…

  “Ha, too bad it didn’t count.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She was drunk, Kay. Sober, she’s never come on to me. Why should last night have been any different? And anyways, she fell asleep before things between us got very far.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe you’ve been reading her wrong all this time.”

  “Or maybe I’ve been reading her right and it was for the best that she fell asleep before we both made a huge mistake. I told her as much this morning.” Because her coming onto him was the alcohol talking, it had to have been. She was fresh off a divorce, for crying out loud. No way would she be interested in jumping into anything so soon, especially with the jerk who’d bailed on their friendship a decade ago.

  “Oh, Miles.”

  “Oh, Miles, what? I didn’t want her to feel guilty for the way things went down, was that so wrong?” He snatched up the napkin-wrapped silverware and peeled back the paper strip holding the utensils in place. “Damn women. I try not to make a big deal about it, and she goes storming out. What the hell?”

  “You know what I think?”

  “No.”

  “I think she stormed out because you insulted her.”

  Miles barked a surprised laugh. “She falls asleep under me, and I’m the one who insulted her?”

  “She did wha—?” Kayla shook her head. “Never mind, I don’t want details. Look, if the old Stephanie was all about being confident and bold, and she’s struggling to get back to that, and then you come along and dismiss her…”

  Dismiss her? Miles scoffed. The idea was crazy, ludicrous. Then again, Steph’s face had gone blank after he offered her the out. And she had thrown that same line back in his face right before she’d stormed out. “Aw, crap.”

  “Yeah.”

  Miles ran a hand over the back of his neck. See? This was why it was best to avoid relationships. Too much thinking, too many chances for misinterpretation.

  Too much pent-up sexual frustration.

  “You know, I could talk to her for you—”

  “Let it go, Kay.”

  “But—”

  “No.” He shot her a stern look. “I need to start planning for the future—not look for a girlfriend or entertaining women I don’t understand. Just tie up some loose ends and maybe start packing in case I get this job.”

  “What job?”

  Crap. “Uh, yeah. So there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you all.”

  Kayla’s eyes widened. “Wait, you’re…you’re gonna leave us?” She ran a hand through her hair, a mixture of worry and disbelief on her face. “When? Where? When did this all happen? Does Brent know? Heck, does Ruby know?”

  Miles pinched the bridge of his nose. This was why he’d been waiting to tell them until after it was a done deal. He’d expected Ruby to ask a million and one questions, though, not Kayla. He took a deep breath and met her wide eyes.

  “I got a call from a headhunter buddy of mine on Friday. I’d reached out to him this spring, before you showed up here and helped us pull the inn’s revenue out of the toilet. Honestly, I’d kinda forgotten he was even looking until he called. But Kay, this job sounds perfect. Great salary, awesome benefits, only a few hours away—”

  “A few hours?”

  Miles hadn’t thought her eyes could grow wider, but somehow they had. And sadder. Damn, he was slaying some of his favorite people today, and all before lunch.

  “Look, you guys, you’ll be fine without me. You’ve got Brent, Brent’s got you, Ruby’s got you both. Me? I’m just the…fourth wheel.”

  Her left brow arched.

  “Oh, come on. You know I’ve been wanting to get out of Dodge for a long time now. Heck, you all thought I was trying to sell the inn out from under Ruby a few months ago, remember? Are you really that surprised to hear I’m thinking of leaving?”

  “No.” Her shoulders sank. “I guess I’d just hoped that since things were better now, you’d want to stay.”

  “Better is good for the inn and for you all, but I still feel incomplete. Guess I just haven’t found that other half of my heart like you have yet.” He offered her a half smile, hoping she would offer him one in return. Instead, she just sat there looking like someone who’d received the news that their dog had gone missing. “Please don’t tell the others, let me do that. I’ll talk to Brent first, figure out how to broach the subject with Ruby. Okay?”

  Kayla nodded, her gaze shifting from his. Miles did his best to hold his guilt at bay. She had plenty of joy in her life, plenty of reasons coming soon to be even happier once Brent manned up and popped the question. Kayla would get used to Miles not being here soon enough. They all would.

  “It’s for the best,” he said, and willed himself to believe it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Stephanie made it back to her suite without crossing paths with Ruby or any of the other staff, and slept the better part of morning away. And rather than hit the dining room for a late breakfast, she brewed a small pot of coffee in her room and sipped it in the deafening silence. But mornings like this were better dealt with alone, with no one there to say, “I told you so.”

  Showered, bored, and more than a little stir crazy an hour later, Stephanie tugged on her sandals. It was too gorgeous a day to sit inside, and too frustrating to sit that close to Miles.

  Dang it—why had she gone and let her guard down?

  She knew some fresh air would do her good, though. Help her to push her failings with the opposite sex aside long enough to start working on a checklist of things needing done before she moved back home. Because whether or not she took this job, Stephanie was done with Florida. So with pen and paper in hand, she snuck out the side door to avoid Miles’s office, then slithered past the pool area and headed toward the old pond. Only today she planned to trade her spot on the dock with her second favorite place on the Masterson property— the giant old tree just back from the pond.

  Stephanie had always loved it there, especially with her feet dangling from one of its wide, low branches. She had no idea what k
ind of tree it was. Maple? Oak? Didn’t matter. It’d always been a great place to escape to when she needed to get away from her over-estrogened childhood home, or if the boys weren’t around and she needed to reflect on some act of stupidity.

  Like the act she’d pulled last night, letting Miles talk her into going out and grabbing some wings and drinks.

  But not on a date. Oh, no. Probably for the best they didn’t call it that.

  Her blood began to boil again. Why was it so hard to believe that she knew what she was doing? Stephanie dropped her pen and paper beside the tree and stalked to the water’s edge. She kicked off both sandals and felt her toes sink into the cool sand that ringed the pond. Unfortunately, it did little to cool her temper as tears of anger stung her eyes.

  “Stupid man,” she growled.

  Through her watery gaze she spied a skipping stone nearby. With a lurch she snatched it up from the ground and brushed it off.

  “Stupider me.”

  Stephanie snapped her wrist and sent the rock sailing. It skimmed the water’s smooth surface, skipping four times before sinking to its final destination.

  “Nice throw.”

  She spun around to find Brent walking toward her, tool belt on, wooden board under one arm and a bucket full of tools in his grip. Stephanie briefly turned her back to him long enough to swipe a hand beneath each eye. Damn the Masterson boys and their horrible timing. “Thanks.”

  “And for the record, I don’t know that stupider is really a word.”

  She snorted. “It is if we’re talking about men.”

  “I resemble that remark.”

  “No, you don’t.” Not Brent, he’d always been the levelheaded one. How many times had he talked her and Miles out of some crazy plan when they were kids? Her gaze drifted to where the rock had disappeared. Ripples of displaced water were fading back to their smooth state. “Your cousin, on the other hand…”

  “Ah. Well, then. By all means, stupider it is.”

  She cracked a grin. “What, you’re not going to defend him? Puff your chest out and give me some, ‘All for one and one for all’ BS?”

  “Sorry, have you met Miles?”