Falling For Ken (Blueprint to Love Book 2)

by Giordano, Lauren

  He'd hobbled back to the dining room by the time the front door opened. "I'm in the kitchen."

  "I figured you'd be sleeping." Dropping a disorganized pile of folders on the farm table, she flopped into a chair. "Wanna take a look?"

  "Why don't we eat," he suggested. "I made lunch. It's in the refrigerator."

  Her expression revealed surprise. "You shouldn't be on your feet."

  The sharp pain in his ankle acknowledged the truth of her statement. But he was tired of sleeping. Tired of her waiting on him– especially now. When he knew what he'd be forced to do. Hobbling to the counter, he rested his leg, relieving some of the weight.

  "Now, this I've got to see," she murmured.

  "It's not much," he qualified. "Not like what you make."

  Kendall's smile seemed to light her whole face, her pleasure at the small surprise evident in her eyes. "I'll help you carry it to the table."

  Harry pulled out a tray of sandwiches and the vegetables he'd discovered after hobbling through her garden. He'd spent the last hour slicing up a bounty of treasures she'd somehow managed to plant and nurture while running her construction business.

  His knee buckling caught him by surprise. Kendall's eyes widened when the platter shifted and she lunged forward to catch it before it toppled to the tile floor. In one fluid motion, she turned, slid the tray to the counter and turned back to catch him as he stumbled.

  "You did too much." Her voice was muffled against his chest as she absorbed his forward motion.

  Pain nearly as bad as the first night shot through his ankle, forcing him to lean heavily on her. Could he be any more useless? "I think– you may be right."

  "Let's get you to the table. Then I'll get your pill and you can take it with lunch."

  Perfect. The woman whose life he was about to destroy comes to the rescue again. "But the files-"

  Ken glanced up and smiled. "They'll still be there when you wake up."

  Three-legged hobbling to the table, she gently pushed him into a chair. Flustered and frustrated, he was out of breath again. When the hell would his strength return? Her refreshingly honest eyes level with his, she lowered him to the chair. Steeped in regret, Harry avoided her sympathetic gaze. Her face only inches from his, he realized he was still clutching her waist.

  "You okay?" She brushed his forehead with her fingertips. "You're a little warm."

  Her touch jolted through him. "I– I'm fine," he choked out. Or would be, once she backed up a few steps. Her whiskey-soaked voice slid over his senses, firing visions of her . . . them. A darkened room. The scent of warm skin, sunblock and flowers was suddenly clogging his brain, making him dizzy. He was so damn aware of her he could barely breathe.

  "Are you sure?"

  Today, her eyes appeared hazel, ringed by an amazing shimmer of gold around the pupil. Her expression was one of confusion. The cute freckles Harry swore he didn't like, fanned out over her cheekbones. His gaze dropped to her bottom lip, fascinated by the way she'd captured it nervously between even, white teeth.

  "Kenny." Releasing her waist, he reached up to trace the contours of her face. His erratic heartbeat accelerated when she startled. Her pupils flared with desire and an emotion he would have described as utter bewilderment.

  "Harrison– I'll . . . um . . . you know– get the tray-"

  Before she could escape, he leaned in to capture her mouth. Helpless to stop himself, Harry brushed his lips against hers. Absorbing the shudder that swept through her, he tugged on the full bottom lip that had tortured him all night. She opened to him on a murmur of surprise. Heat surged through his veins as he took the kiss deeper. Stroking her warm, sweet mouth, he groaned when her tongue tentatively met his. Driven by a desperate need for more, he pulled her into his lap.

  And was floored.

  Kendall was warmth and sunlight. She was laughter and teasing passion, rolled up in a walloping kick of arousal that left him wanting so much more. He'd never tasted anything sweeter or more perfect, never wanted anything as much as he wanted to kiss her again.

  "H-harry." Her soft, sensual whisper quickened his already galloping heart. He wanted . . . more. In the space of a heartbeat, his mouth covered hers again. Arched against him, Kendall wrapped her arms around his neck. Her tongue dancing against his, Harry went slowly crazy. Tentative at first, she became as ensnared in the sweet sensation as he was.

  The combination of innocence and reckless enthusiasm inflamed a raw need to experience more. How could one simple kiss be so incredible? Balanced in his lap, her lithe body pressed against his erection. Shocked by the raw intensity of his desire, Harry wanted to lower her to the kitchen floor and make love to her until Ken's smoky voice moaned his name. Until her beautiful topaz eyes glazed over with desire for him. Until he quenched the inferno torching him.

  Instead, he drew back, dragging in a shaky breath while he fought the compelling urge to kiss her again. Stunned by the enormity of his action, regret lanced through him. He just wasn't sure whether it was over kissing her or stopping. His gaze remained riveted on Kendall while he dragged much needed air into his lungs. His brain refused the sputtering attempt to jump-start, too focused on the flustered beauty still clinging to him.

  Her dreamy, amber eyes glittered with confusion and unspent passion, her sweet, sexy mouth bruised and trembling with reaction. She'd been awakened. To a desire Kendall kept hidden from the world– perhaps even from herself.

  Mine. The wave of possessiveness caught Harry off guard when it rocketed through his chest. His brain was functioning again, because panic began seeping through the hazy cloud of pleasure. What the hell had he done? That was no simple kiss. His body still throbbing with awareness, his chest hurt to breathe.

  How had he allowed Ken to get to him? And where had his sense of responsibility gone? His goal was protecting Specialty– even if that meant ruining Kendall. He couldn't back down if he'd wanted to. Specialty wasn't his company to risk.

  But if there was even a slim chance A & R could be saved, Harry owed her the diligence of his best effort. Instead of kissing her, he should be analyzing her cash flow. Instead of allowing her false hope, he should maintain a professional distance. Instead of wishing he could tear Kenny's clothes off and make love with her on the table, he should be focused on their mutual business problem.

  His confusion must have shown in his eyes because Kendall's flared with panic and something akin to shame. Her hands froze on his shoulders before she launched away from him, still trembling.

  "Kenny, wait-"

  "I-I have to. . . get b-back to the site-" Golden eyes burning in her too pale face, her shock set in– vibrating out to encompass him. Making Harry feel even worse for what he'd done.

  "Please, Ken . . . we need to talk. I-I had no right to do that."

  "It was a mistake, okay?" she interrupted. "I know this doesn't change what you have to do."

  "Why I'm here has nothing to do with kissing you." His voice tightened with anger. How could he have been so stupid? "You're so pretty . . . but- Hell, I just should've tried harder."

  Though she attempted to hide it, her eyes betrayed confusion. "Don't-" She shook her head. "Please don't insult me."

  The hurt in her voice fisted his stomach. He was struck by how vulnerable she was despite her pretending to be unaffected. Stripped of the tough layer of veneer, she was defenseless. "Kendall, you may think I'm a bastard by the time this is over . . . but I will never insult you." The magnitude of what he'd done tightened his chest. "When I say you're beautiful, I mean it."

  He held the power to destroy her– in more ways than one. Ken wasn't fishing for compliments. She simply wasn't accustomed to hearing them. The bigger question was who had made her feel unattractive– to the point she hid her beauty under such a thorny disguise?

  Harry had stumbled into dangerous territory. Anything he said held the potential to hurt her feelings. Yet, she'd been honest with him. She deserved honesty in return. "I know this isn't an accep
table excuse– and believe me, I'm not trying to make one for myself– but I can't get involved-"

  "Because of Deborah," she interrupted. Kenny had drifted to the doorway, her arms wrapped protectively around her waist.

  Startled, he met her troubled gaze. "How do you know about her?"

  "You talk in your sleep," she said, retreating another step. "The first night– you thought I was her."

  "We're not together anymore." He tugged a hand through his hair, wincing when he felt stitches. Now wasn't the time to discuss his former girlfriend. "Kenny, I shouldn't have kissed you . . . for several reasons. I respect you– and I like you.” Distracted, he avoided the question in her eyes.

  "Traynor, it's okay."

  "I still have a job to do. My job is to protect Specialty– and that might mean-"

  "Putting me out of business."

  Kendall's eyes filled with tears she clearly fought, her expression one of futility. Her sorrow weighted in the pit of his stomach. But he couldn't lie. Her pain would be worse if he tried to soften the blow. Harry sensed she'd sooner lose everything than ask for help.

  "My job," he corrected gently, "is to review your finances from every angle. I'm willing to help you if I can– but if I can't, I'll be forced to withdraw your contract and find someone else to finish the job."

  Suppressing a shiver, she dashed the tears away with her forearm and nodded toward the table. "The files are there."

  He stood awkwardly. "Kenny, I'll consider any feasible course of action that might help your company get back on its feet."

  "I need to get back to the site. Sorry about lunch, but I'm not hungry anymore." She nodded toward the pile of folders, resignation in her eyes. "We'll talk tonight when I get home."

  Her steps echoed through the foyer as she let herself out. Harry ignored the nearly overwhelming urge to hobble after her– to wipe away her tears and hold her until they both felt better. But he'd given in to two impulses today– and both had ended in disaster. Resolutely, he limped to the far end of the table where his briefcase lay open. His gaze flicked over the haphazard stack of files before he methodically withdrew a legal pad and his calculator from his precisely organized briefcase. Blocking out the image of her tear-drenched eyes, he opened the first folder and went to work.

  Chapter 6

  Kendall pulled over twice on the drive back to the construction site. First, to find the box of tissues and allow herself the good old-fashioned cry she no longer had the strength to hold back. The second time she stopped her battered pickup, she swallowed several aspirin and searched for sunglasses. The rearview mirror confirmed her red-rimmed eyes. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd cried in the past decade. Today, she'd already bawled twice.

  She was unsure which event upset her more. Acknowledging she was one step closer to losing her business. Or kissing Harrison Traynor. The first was all but inevitable. But the second had been a fantasy come true. Kissing Harry had been like a winning lottery ticket; a perfect hair day; a five pound weight loss and ice cream for dinner all at once. Kissing Harry had been downright incredible. Shivering, she remembered his mouth on hers– his warm, insistent, sensual lips moving over hers. Equally amazing was the moment before he'd kissed her. If such a thing were possible, Kendall wanted to relive the magic of that moment– when the expression in his beautiful eyes had been desperation.

  For her.

  In the timeless moment he'd kissed her, she'd known only wonder. And knee-buckling heat. And need. So much damn need. She'd never felt such a burning ache before . . . never experienced such regret over stopping. She'd never kissed a man and completely forgotten where she was. The expression in his eyes had taken her breath– made her willing to throw caution to the wind and do it again if he asked.

  But the flash of regret in his eyes had pierced her soul. Ken didn't know which was worse. Imagining what a fling with Harrison would be like– or realizing the opportunity would never present itself again. Yet, she couldn't fault him for being honorable. Even in the heat of passion, he'd considered the consequences.

  No, she couldn't be angry with Harry for being a gentleman. There were too few left. The only reason she could find for hating him was introducing her to something so wild and sweet and addictive, knowing she would never get the opportunity again.

  Blowing her nose a final time, Kendall skidded back out on the rutted road. Sunglasses securely in place, she wished she'd been more vigilant. Wished in vain she hadn't lowered her guard to Harrison Traynor. And prayed she would summon the strength to raise her shields to him once more.

  ***

  Once at the site, she stopped by the trailer to check her messages. Scanning the note from Jimmy, she stuffed it into her pocket before waving to Claire and bolting from the trailer. Striding across the site, she spotted him talking with the crew chief. Woody would need to hear what she was about to confess to Jimmy.

  Fingers to her lips, Kendall whistled. The shrill sound carried over the cacophony of construction activity. Her foreman turned his head in recognition. The bulldozer belched once before dropping the load of dirt it carried.

  Several minutes later Jimmy huffed into talking range. "What's up, boss?"

  "This message– what were the police doing out here?"

  His eyes sparked at the incident she knew he'd already forgotten. Kendall recognized the harried expression– carried it herself most of the time. At some point during the hectic buzz of each day, issues arose suddenly, decisions were made quickly and little incidents got lost in the controlled chaos of the site.

  "Oh, yeah. I forgot." Raising a flannel covered arm to his forehead, he mopped perspiration. "Cops showed up right after you left for lunch. Bonehead wasn't here either, so I said you'd call them back."

  No need to clarify Jimmy was referring to Lance. "What did they want?"

  "They wanna know more about the equipment thefts."

  Her nose wrinkled in confusion. "Again? We filed a police report last month." Insurance companies wouldn't pay without it.

  "Said they were lookin' into the possibility it's a big operation."

  Ken smiled in acknowledgment as Woody approached. Her gaze took in his hulking presence, noting the difference between the two men. Where Jimmy was short and stocky, Woody was enormous. Together, they reminded her of junkyard dogs. Hardworking, loyal men whose menacing appearance was merely a bonus. As a woman running a construction operation, the motley pair had come in handy more than once. Lance kept a healthy distance from them– only bullying her when he knew they weren't around. Not that she was afraid of her stepbrother-

  "A stolen equipment ring– here?" She shook her head doubtfully. "The police must be having a slow day."

  "Well, you know Miz Adams . . . me an' Jimmy were thinking it might be true. Remember those tracks we showed you out in the east quadrant?"

  Tilting her head back, Ken shaded her eyes to meet his gaze. "Tire tracks don't mean much on a construction site, Wood."

  "Yeah, but we're not workin' over there yet," he argued. Turning his hulking frame to the east, he pointed a meaty finger. "Out there you wouldn't worry about fallin' in a hole. It's only two hundred yards to the access road. If you were fixin' to steal stuff, I reckon you could be outta here in a couple minutes."

  Jimmy chuckled. Woody had obviously given a great deal of thought to his theory.

  "C'mon, Jimmy," he argued. "You said the same thing."

  "It's possible," her foreman agreed. "But we've got bigger fish to fry. Kenny's concerned with the dig . . . not the possibility we got backhoe bandits out here."

  "Backhoe bandits? You boys think that up?"

  "Catchy, ain't it?" Jimmy's leathery face creased, his blue eyes squinting against the sun.

  Kendall laughed and for a moment, the weight of worry lifted from her chest. This was how it used to be. Before Lance. Before the money troubles. Working hard and laughing with her crew. She'd let the strain get to her– allowed worries to consume her. B
ut the added tension wouldn't help solve her problems.

  No matter what happened to her business, Ken had a choice to make the best of it. In her desperation, she'd forgotten she still had options. Whether A & R remained open for business, she would survive. She'd simply have to make certain her crew survived as well.

  "I'll call the officer back." Squaring her shoulders, she spun around to face Jimmy. "Can you lower me into the parking garage for a couple minutes?"

  "What the hell d'ya want down there?"

  Kendall met his questioning gaze. "Two things. I need to find Traynor's cell phone."

  "He's rich. Let him buy another."

  "Jimmy, we're lucky they haven't thrown us off the job," she pointed out. "Besides that– we nearly killed the man. The least I can do-"

  "It's a damn mess down there. You ain't gonna find shit-"

  "I'm also checking the safety fencing from the underside," she interrupted coolly, ending his tirade. "I want to know why it collapsed so quickly."

  "This guy is gonna put you out of business. Don't be goin' sweet on him," Jimmy warned. "Traynor's here for one thing– but if he can have some of that while he waits, he'll take it."

  "Have you lost your mind?" Kendall cursed the mortified heat flooding her cheeks as her foreman gave her an appraising look.

  "All I'm sayin' is– it's gonna hurt bad enough to shut this place down, Sugar. I don't want to see you hurtin' more because of Traynor."

  "That's Boss Sugar to you."

  "I mean it, Kenny," he persisted. "You're not used to players like him. He'll take advantage of you."

  "Pop– you're so wrong on this." She gave him an affectionate squeeze. "Nothing I've got would interest a man like him."

  "That's hogwash."

  "I know why Traynor's here. Hell, I can't fault him for protecting his company. I'd do the same," she reasoned. "But I can't abandon him. He had nowhere else to go. The least I can do is put him up for a few days."