by EMILIE ROSE
“Why?”
“Well, for one, it seems everyone is always looking for the bigger, better deal, and sometimes you’re on the losing end of that arrangement. Plus, when you’re on location, away from your loved ones and whatever your particular reality is, you turn to the people you spend so much time with, and that creates a false attachment. There are a lot of affairs that happen,” she explained with a shrug. “And I’m not one for an open relationship. I’m old-fashioned that way.”
“Is there a lot of that going on? Open relationships?” He couldn’t fathom being okay with someone else touching his woman. Even though they’d been apart for eight years, he hated the idea of someone else occupying space that had previously belonged to him.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “It’s an incestuous little circle. Everyone is doing someone that someone else knows. I hate that part. Feels dirty. I tried to date outside of the business, but it’s complicated and they often don’t understand the long days and, worse, the politics. In the end, it’s just easier to date within the circle.” She turned to regard him with open curiosity. “How many women have you dated?”
“Not a lot. My job makes it difficult to make too many attachments.” Plus, he wasn’t about to let another woman get her claws into him. He’d learned his lesson, but he didn’t see the sense in ruining the tentative truce between them. “Besides, I’m not the boyfriend kind.”
She stilled and he knew she was thinking of their time together. “Because of me,” she surmised quietly, and he didn’t deny it. She held his gaze and he felt his heart lurch. She was so beautiful in this light, almost ethereal, and he wished this time together were real and not an illusion. “I hurt you pretty bad.”
He shrugged. “Things happen. I’m not hurting now.”
“I don’t believe you. If you weren’t still hurting, you would’ve settled down with someone else. I know you, Trace. You’re meant to be a husband and a father. You have a kind and generous heart that was meant to share a life with someone else.”
Good feeling fading, Trace moved to the edge of the bed and started to collect his discarded clothing. “Let’s just leave it alone,” he suggested as he pulled his shirt on and reached down to grab her bra. He tossed it to her and stood to slide into his jeans. “I’m sorry about...this—” he gestured between them “—I never planned to...”
“Yeah, I know. Me, neither,” she said, quickly dressing, and he could feel the awkwardness growing like mold on bread. “Well, for what it’s worth, I enjoyed myself, but we probably shouldn’t do it again. It’s not very professional.”
He tried not to take offense but he bristled all the same. “Sorry. I’m new to this Hollywood game. My apologies for breaking the rules.”
“Don’t be like that, Trace. I’m just saying, that even though it was great, I can’t afford to lose my objectivity. This project means everything. It’s imperative that it succeed.”
“Nothing stops you from succeeding, does it?” he said with a subtle sneer in his voice, and even though he was ashamed of how it made him sound, he was helpless to stop it. “Delainey Clarke, ambition personified. Homer still has the boot print on its back from the last time you marched on by in your quest for success.”
“Oh, this again?” she said sharply, her eyes flashing. “I thought we were past this petty crap.”
“Why? Just because we fooled around a little? Honey, in your business, I thought this was just part of a normal day’s work.”
She gasped at his insult and slapped him hard. “How dare you! I can’t believe you went there. I thought we were sharing some private information and you just used mine against me. Real classy, Trace. Real classy.” She scrambled from the bed and quickly gathered her clothes and jerked them on. “If my job weren’t depending on this stupid assignment, I’d tell you to go screw yourself and find someone else to play your part. I didn’t want to believe it, but you’re right, you have changed and not for the better! Forget the damn interview. I’ll get what I need from the news footage. The sooner I’m done with Alaska—and you—the better.”
“That goes for the two of us, sweetheart!” he called as she slammed out the front door. Damn it! Trace wanted to yell to the rafters and do collateral damage to anything in his path, but he reined in his rage and frustration by the thinnest margin. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut and play along? Because he wasn’t that kind of person, he answered himself. He wasn’t the kind of guy who shared his woman, or laughed when he wanted to scowl, or handed out false compliments to someone who was plainly an idiot and he never would be. And as such, he couldn’t pretend that everything was all right between him and Delainey just because their bodies still craved one another even when their brains said bad idea. He could make love to Delainey all day, worshipping her body until they were both soaked with sweat, and it wouldn’t change a damn thing between them. He didn’t trust her and he never would, and she was never going to stop chasing that elusive dream, no matter the cost. Nothing had changed—except now they had brand-new baggage between them.
Well, hell.
So much for using sex to mend fences. By the feel of things, they’d just started a whole new war.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE FOLLOWING DAY Trace found Miranda during her lunch break and pulled her aside. “What the hell are you doing telling Delainey anything about me?” he asked, still angry. “She came to me saying that you’d shared personal details with her about my life, and I didn’t appreciate that at all.”
“First of all, calm down,” Miranda said, unruffled by his ire and calmly continuing to enjoy her sandwich. “Yes, I talked to her, and yes, I told her some things. But I think they were things that needed to be shared for everyone’s sake. You know, our family is pretty screwed up, and until I got my head on straight I was pissed off most days and blaming everyone but myself for the circumstances in my life. Don’t you think it’s time to let the past go?”
“You’re one to talk. You’ve only just recently started being the kinder, gentler Miranda, so don’t start preaching to me just because you’ve suddenly had an epiphany.”
“Well, I will preach to you because you’re my brother and you’re likely going to keep screwing up your life if I don’t. You have unfinished business with Delainey, and until you get it figured out, your life is going to suck.”
“Who are you to judge my life? Maybe I like my life just the way that it is and I don’t need my nosy little sister poking around where it’s unwanted. And I definitely don’t need Delainey pitying me either because she thinks she broke me when she left. I was doing just fine until she started coming around again.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Miranda quipped under her breath, and he returned with a glare.
“Yeah, it is—mine, and I say I was doing just fine.”
“So is that what this visit is all about? You yelling at me for caring about you?” Miranda crumpled her trash, her stare just as hard. “Like it or not, we’re family, and if I see an opportunity for you to get over the past, I’m going to take it.”
“How does pushing Delainey at me help the past?”
“Because when she left, you changed, and frankly I need the old you back.”
“What does that mean?”
“You promised me you’d help me with Mom and Dad, and yet you’ve avoided the situation since you returned from your last trip,” Miranda said, pulling no punches. “I need your help. There was a time when you would’ve done whatever you could to help and it wouldn’t have taken strong-arming you into doing it.”
He stared, hating that she was right. “I’ve been busy. In case you haven’t noticed, my life has been hijacked by the very person you’ve been trying to shove down my throat.”
“Yes, I heard. Even though Fish and Game is a separate department from Search and Rescue,
it seems everyone is twittering about how lucky you are and how lucky the Search and Rescue program is to have a little unexpected cash flow. Not to mention, you’re getting a nice little payday from this gig, right?” At his reluctant nod, she said, “And you’re getting to hold on to your Junior Search and Rescue program, right?” Again he nodded. “Well, then I say suck it up, put a happy face on and stop being such a sourpuss about it all. So you have to deal with Delainey—something that’s well overdue if you ask me—big whoop. Put your big-boy pants on and just deal with it.”
Had his little sister just schooled him? And worse, had he deserved it? Maybe. But he still wasn’t happy about Miranda spilling his secrets. They were secret for a reason. “Next time you want to share life stories, keep to your own, okay?” he bit out, but his argument was losing steam. Hell, he was losing his grip on everything since Delainey came back to town. He rubbed at his forehead. “I’ll stop by Mom and Dad’s after work today. That work for you?”
“Fine by me, but you’re on your own this time. Mom doesn’t want anything to do with me right now. She’s refusing to let me into the house, saying the last time I came over I picked a fight with her. It’s not true but that’s how she remembers it.”
“How do you remember it?” he asked, knowing Miranda and their mom had always butted heads over one thing or another.
“Talen and I came over to help her clean up. It was so bad I couldn’t stay. It smelled like something had died in there, and I didn’t know if it was safe for Talen—or any human being—to be in there for too long.”
“What does Dad say about it?”
“Nothing. He never goes in the house any longer. He pretty much lives in his garage.”
“Typical,” Trace muttered. “The old man is content to ignore everything around him while he does whatever the hell he wants. And before you say I’ve been guilty of the same thing, it’s different. My life and schedule is far more hectic than Dad’s.”
“I have this instinct to defend him but I can’t. That’s about the long and short of it right now,” Miranda agreed sadly. “Have you talked to Wade lately? Maybe if Wade came home they’d snap out of their funk.”
Trace shook his head. He hadn’t talked to his older brother in a really long time. Terribly long, actually. “It’s hard to coordinate our schedules,” he said. “And we’re both busy.”
“Yeah, I know. But I think we really need to get him home. He needs to see what’s happening, too. Besides, maybe if Wade came home...”
“We’ll see,” he said, not sure having Wade return would make things better or worse. Of the conversations he’d had with his older brother, Trace knew Wade had no respect for their father since he’d started growing and selling marijuana, and the two clashed as readily as Miranda and their mother did. “Let me take a look at the situation first and then I’ll give you my honest assessment.”
“Do you think you’ll have time between being a movie star?”
Trace realized Miranda was teasing him, and he offered a small grin. “I guess I’ll have to make time. Do you want my autograph?”
“Only if I can turn around and sell it for big money on the internet,” Miranda quipped. “I have a wedding to pay for.”
He suppressed a shudder and turned to leave. “Better you than me.”
“Maybe someday that’ll change,” Miranda called after him, and he answered with a wave as he left her to enjoy the rest of her lunch break.
* * *
DELAINEY SPENT THE morning securing her crew and getting their flights scheduled while jotting notes for the reenactment script. She still needed to hire a few actors and find a hotel because Peter had come up empty.
“I’m so sorry,” Peter said, looking wretched at having failed her, but she didn’t have time to coddle anyone as panic threatened to rob her of her senses. “I tried to find a hotel with enough vacancies, but we’re having a banner moose season and wouldn’t you know it, all the hotels are booked solid.”
“Thank you for trying,” Delainey said, forcing a smile as she added “Find Hotel ASAP” to her to-do list. “I have twenty-four hours to find a place to house a crew of eight. At least it’s not a full crew,” she said, trying to find the silver lining.
“I feel terrible,” Peter said. “I thought for sure that I could find a place. Maybe not the best of places, but a place to hole up while you’re here.”
“It’s okay,” she assured him, but her heart was racing. “I’ll figure it out. That’s what I do—I problem-solve.”
He smiled with relief and she almost wanted to slap him silly, but that was only because she was still out of sorts after her interlude with Trace and definitely confused about why she’d let it happen in the first place.
Trace was like a flu virus—she’d just have to wait out the symptoms. She stomped on any memory that dared to pop its head from her mental cache before she found herself aching for a rematch. Why did Trace know her body so well? Even after all this time, his touch still had the power to make her quake. She thought of the men she circulated around in Los Angeles and she wanted to laugh. There was a marked difference between the men who work out religiously to hone their physique and a man hewn from hard work. Delainey couldn’t stand a man with soft hands. She’d discovered that fact about herself in a rather unfortunate episode that had ended with a not-so-great bridge burning.
It’d been her first big producer gig, and she’d been heady with the thrill of being in charge. She’d naively found herself flirting with a big-name actor who was known for his playboy ways. Before she knew it, they were in bed together. But the minute those soft, girlie hands had touched her skin, she’d found her desire deflating like a punctured balloon. Of course, he’d noticed that she’d gone cold and unresponsive, and he’d taken offense. Suffice to say, they would never work together again.
Delainey shook off the horrid memory and chuckled to herself. The actor had paid fanatical attention to his supplements and calorie intake so as to maintain his killer physique, but the man had never worked a hard day’s labor in his entire life. Trace ate like a red-blooded American man should—if he could catch it, he could eat it. Trace could trap, fish or track anything. A warmth suffused her body and a private smile followed. Trace, for all his faults, was the sexiest man she’d ever known. And that fact had not changed.
Her cell phone interrupted her musing, and she saw Miranda was calling. They’d exchanged cell numbers after lunch, and it seemed Miranda was keeping up with her promise to keep in touch, though Delainey didn’t expect a phone call so soon.
“Hey, Miranda, what’s up?” Delainey answered, her mind returning to the problem at hand.
“I heard through the grapevine that you need a place for your crew to hole up for a week or two during your production. I may have what you need,” she said, and Delainey immediately perked up.
“Yeah? How so?”
“Do you remember Otter?” Miranda asked.
“Yeah, sort of. Why?”
“Well, he’s been getting into real estate over the years and he just so happens to have a good-size house that just came up for rent. I’m sure if you make him an offer, he’ll take it. Otter loves making a deal. I know you were looking for a hotel, but this might do in a pinch.”
“Actually, at this point, any roof over their heads is good for me. Thanks!”
“No problem.” Miranda paused before adding, “Hey, one more thing... Trace came by and he was pretty mad at me for sharing some details about his private life. My guess is that you and him talked?”
Talked? Ha. Perhaps if they’d stuck to talking, there wouldn’t be this awkwardness now. But then again, maybe not. “Yeah, we talked. I hope he wasn’t too mad with you.”
“Oh, he was but don’t worry about that. I can handle my brother. Besides, I didn’t say anything that didn’t need saying. I really
hope you two can work out the kinks from the past. Even if you’re not meant to be together, maybe we can work toward being friends again.”
Hearing Miranda say she and Trace weren’t meant to be together pinched, even if she’d been saying it for years. It was one thing to think something privately but quite another to have another agree with you. Somehow, it made her want to prove Miranda wrong.
She rubbed her forehead, wondering if she was ever going to feel normal about relationships. She’d run away from the one solid, stable romantic attachment in her life and then found every relationship since lacking. “We’ll see,” Delainey said. “Trace and I have some pretty big boulders in our way.”
“Don’t we all. But it can happen. You know, I carried a pretty big chip on my shoulder for a long time, but now that it’s gone...it makes me wonder why I didn’t chuck that thing a long time ago.”
“Well, I don’t carry a chip. I don’t carry anything with me that doesn’t serve the moment,” Delainey said.
“That’s how it may seem but we all have baggage, even if we don’t realize we’re still packing it around.”
“Geesh, the years have turned you into a philosopher,” Delainey teased, half joking. “What happened to my favorite ballbuster, tomboy kind of girl?”
“She grew up,” Miranda answered with a small chuckle. “But I can still shoot better than most men.”
“I believe that,” Delainey said. “I haven’t shot a gun in years. I’d probably shoot my damn foot off.”
Miranda laughed. “You and Trace ought to go target shooting back behind my parents’ property. Remember when we all used to do that?”
Yeah, Delainey remembered. Those were such good, innocent times. Seemed a lifetime ago. She drew a deep breath and decided to put an end to the conversation. “Listen, I have to go. I appreciate your help with the accommodations. Text me Otter’s number and I’ll hit him up.”
“No problem. That’s what friends are for, right?”
