by Cari Quinn
An empty orgasm for her, and yet she’d initiated things between them, not him. Of course he’d take her up on it. A willing woman and they knew each other’s bodies well. Had she really thought that was going to be the answer to getting him to talk?
“Kendall, you won’t believe it.”
She stood with only the slightest wince. “What, Mom?”
“That was an entire family. Their plans fell through with another B and B, and they saw our new Web site. I logged on to check to see what they were talking about. Why didn’t you tell me we had a new Web site?”
Kendall snapped her brows together. “Shane mentioned he’d added some new pictures, but I haven’t gotten around to checking.” Evidently Shane had been very busy. The quick flare of hope made her smile. If he’d updated the Web site, maybe he wasn’t truly hell-bent on selling. “Wait, go back to the entire-family part.”
“Oh, right.” Lily laughed and tucked her pencil behind her ear. “They need four rooms for the week of Christmas.”
“Four?”
Her mother nodded. “I know. I can’t believe it. Three couples and two teenage girls.”
Relief and determination straightened her shoulders. Then she’d make sure it was the best damn Christmas. Her gaze drifted to the barn; then she focused back to the task at hand.
At least this she could fix. “Well, then let’s make sure we wow them. Why don’t you go get the extra lights from the barn?”
Her mother took the pencil from behind her ear and made a note on the small notebook she kept in her pocket. “I think you should go get them. I need to make up a menu.”
The storm door shut in her face, her mother already buried in planning. Kendall sagged. Maybe she could work with what she had. She gazed down at the two bundles at her feet and knew they wouldn’t make it around the other side of the wraparound porch.
“You can do this, Kendall. He’s just a man.” She curled her fingers into her palms and made her way down the side steps. The crunch of snow under her boots sounded loud in the dense silence of the meadow behind the house.
She made her way up the small hill to the barn. The back door was open, and the shriek of a skill saw greeted her. Shane had a navy thermal shirt on, the cuffs pushed back at his elbow. His back muscles bunched and flowed as he patiently worked the blade through a long board. A pile of similar cuts was stacked neatly against the wall.
For the first time she got a look at what he’d truly done with the barn. He’d completely converted it into a work space. Steel shelves lined the back wall with bins organized by season, some labeled by her, some in what had to be his handwriting. Instead of rummaging into the Christmas corner like she usually did, all she had to do was go over and pull the Xmas decorations bin down.
A sturdy wooden ladder led to the small loft that had been their catchall storage. A soft glow from a lamp illuminated the queen-size mattress on a low frame, her old college dorm fridge, and a table.
He didn’t need to stay outside in the barn. She had perfectly good rooms for him inside the house. Although it was surprisingly warm and cozy in a rustic way. Under the loft there were stacks of chairs, the skeleton of an eight-foot table, as well as a cart full of stains and sandpaper blocks.
Shane dominated the space in the middle, working through strip upon strip of the unusual Hawaiian wood.
Of course that meant she had to walk by him. She took a steadying breath and lifted her chin. This was just as much her space as it was his. She made a beeline for the wall of shelves and stood on her tiptoes. She managed to only jimmy the decorations bin out a few inches.
Dammit, she was too short.
She looked for a ladder, spotting it by the door. The scrape of the bin coming off the shelf made her whirl around.
Shane stood behind her, holding it. “Where do you want it?”
She grabbed for the handles. “I can carry it.”
He looked down at her, his eyes more green than hazel today. “Where do you want it?”
Unwilling to argue, she shrugged. “The porch.”
He left without a word, and she sneered at his back. She followed him outside and across the yard to the stairs. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Instead of going back to the barn, he walked the length of the porch, his arms crossed over his chest. “Looks good.”
Was he actually making conversation? “Um, thanks. We’re getting ready for some guests.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I think we have you to thank. Evidently the updated the Web site worked.”
He jammed his hands into his pockets. “When I went on the computer in the den, it was already signed into your design page. I just took a few pictures of the improvements and the lake after the snowstorm. It’s pretty as a postcard when there’s a foot of snow on the ground.”
She stiffened. She’d thought the same thing, but hearing him say it the same way rankled. The Heron might not be perfect, but it had a lot of charm. She swallowed back a snotty response. “Well, whatever you did netted us a four-room booking.”
“Nice. Do you need anything done before they come?”
She rubbed the heel of her hand against her thigh. “I need to go into town and get a Christmas tree. It’d be easier to throw it in the back of your truck.”
“Let me just clean up, and we’ll go.”
The easy acquiescence surprised her. “Great. Thanks.”
“I need to get a few things anyway.”
The quick flash of disappointment pissed her off. She pasted on a bright smile. “I’ll see if Mom needs anything.”
“Lily always needs something from town.”
She gave a quick laugh. “Ain’t that the truth.” Kendall crouched, forgetting just how sore she still was. She sucked back a hiss of pain as she flipped the top off the bin.
He frowned down at her. “You all right?”
“Fine. Just been doing a lot of crawling around today.”
He reached into the bin and unearthed a half dozen cardboard pieces wrapped in lights. “Why don’t we go get the tree, and I’ll help you with the lights.”
“You don’t need to do that. You look like you’re in the middle of a project.”
“It can wait. The Heron is my first priority.”
“All right.” She stood and put a hand on the rail. “I’m too sore to say no.”
He moved in closer. “Are you sore from working on the porch or from what we did yesterday?” His gaze was steady on her face. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, Shane.” She looked away from his too-intense stare. “You didn’t hurt me.” Not physically.
He tipped up her chin so she’d meet his gaze. “Don’t lie to me.”
She jerked out of his hold and backed up. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
He caught her wrist, drawing her back into his personal space. He traced a thumb along a lock of hair that had slipped from her French braid. “I was wrong to do that yesterday.”
She looked out over the water. She didn’t want to know he’d regretted touching her.
“Kendall.”
Sunshine.
Not Sunshine. The sharp longing stabbed her in the chest. God, she missed him. Missed his touch, missed his gruff voice and dry humor. Making sure all the things she craved didn’t show on her face, she put on her easy smile. “It’s fine, Shane. Yesterday was just two people scratching an itch.” She shrugged carelessly. “Just fucking, right?”
A muscle in his jaw rippled, and he dropped her hand. “As long as we have that straight. I’ll go get my keys.”
She rubbed weary eyes and went inside for her purse. “Mom,” she called out. “We’re heading into town. Got a grocery list?”
Lily came around the corner, a sheet in her hand. “Just a few things. We’ll need to do a big order for the guests later in the week.” She stopped in front of Kendall. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She took the list.
“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady.”
Kendall clamped her jaw tight and went to the sink. She stuffed the list in her purse, then opened the cupboard and shook out a few ibuprofens. She filled a glass of water from the tap and swallowed it down in greedy gulps, hoping she could get rid of the anger with her thirst.
She stared out the window. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m just tired.”
“If by tired you mean lovesick, then yes.”
“Mom, please.”
“Have you tried to talk to him?”
“Can we not do this now? I’ve got to go.”
“Go on, then.”
Kendall fled, meeting Shane at the truck. She got in without a word and studied the landscape. She noticed more than just the front fence had been fixed. A rough-hewn bench had been added next to the water. “Did you use the lumber from the old fences to make that bench?”
“Yes. Some of it was still good to use.”
“I appreciate it.”
“It’s practical to repurpose the wood. The trails are a nice walk and good for snowmobiles. I figured it was a good spot to sit and look out at the water.”
Was he doing it to make the Heron more beautiful for guests or to make it more appealing to a buyer? Hadn’t he said that the land was worth more than the operating of the B and B?
Maybe he was actually starting to see what she did. She turned to him. “You’re starting to think like an innkeeper.”
“Until we put this place on the market, my name’s on the business too. So is my reputation.”
She looked back out the window. “Of course.” And she needed to remember that.
Chapter Eighteen
Shane put the truck into park. A good crowd of people was shuffling through the little corner lot of staked trees. He followed Kendall into the back of the lot.
“What size are we getting?”
“Eight foot minimum.”
“Eight?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “We put it in the main living space.”
Seemed like a damn big tree for the space, but it was her call. She wove between the trees as if she had an idea in mind but wasn’t finding just what she wanted.
“Heya, Ken.”
An easy and bright smile transformed her face and sucker punched him. “Hi, Brandon.”
Christ. She used to smile at him like that. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket.
“I’ve got a few of those blue spruces you like so much. I held a big one over here.”
He bet the guy did. Shane trudged through the muddy snow after her.
She hooked her arm through Brandon’s. “Oh, that’s perfect.”
Brandon patted her hand. “I thought you might like it.”
Shane stood with his feet apart, his thighs quivering with the full-body clench. He didn’t have any right to get pissed, but he didn’t like anyone else touching her.
“I’m sorry; evidently I left my manners in the truck. Brandon, this is Shane. Shane, Brandon.”
Shane held out his hand, and their handshake was firm. Brandon sized him up; his friendly blue eyes held an edge. Had Brandon and Kendall been an item?
Why the fuck did he care?
He stuffed his hand back into his pocket. She chattered away, asked the guy about his dog, his mother, his sister, and his goddamned nieces and nephews. Names flew out of her mouth.
Small town-ese and the easy familiarity of knowing someone most of her life left him on the sidelines.
He’d lived in Monterey for twenty-two years, and he didn’t know two of his neighbors. He wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Kendall knew the entire town of Winchester Falls.
Five minutes later the spruce was on the bed of his truck. She stopped at the edges of the displays. “Do you have any wreaths left?”
Brandon nodded. “Mom put a few together yesterday, and my sister made a few with those fat bows on the bottom and left the rest naked for people to trim themselves.”
Shane fisted his hands in his pockets and followed her to a small tent. She pored over the wreaths like she did the tree and finally selected one with a huge gold-and-silver bow.
Kendall counted out bills and handed them over. “Tell your sister she outdid herself.”
Brandon smiled. “I will.”
“Merry Christmas if I don’t get to see you.”
Brandon looked over her head at Shane, then quickly back at Kendall. “My sister’s having a Christmas Eve party if you’re interested.”
“I’ve got a few families coming in at the B and B. I’m sorry I’ll miss it.”
“Me too.”
Unable to watch the man make cow eyes at her any longer, Shane came up next to her. “We’re losing daylight, Sunshine.”
Kendall fumbled the wreath, and Shane caught it. She peered up at him with wide, dark eyes, then blinked and turned back to Brandon. “I’ve got to get back. Thanks for keeping that beautiful tree for me.”
“Always.”
Kendall smiled. “I’ll see you soon.” She turned to follow Shane, her eyebrows knit together.
She didn’t say a word as he loaded the wreath in beside the tree and slammed the tailgate closed. Just kept frowning.
“What?”
“You called me— Never mind.”
He frowned down at her. “Called you what?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Nothing.”
He stepped closer until they were toe to toe. “Called you what?”
“Obviously you didn’t mean to since you don’t remember.”
Confused, he took his hands out of his pockets. “Remember what?”
“It’s not important.”
“It is if you’re reacting like this.”
“Sunshine,” she said on an agitated breath. “You called me Sunshine, and you haven’t called me that since we got back.”
Had he? He didn’t remember doing it.
“Not babe, not Sunshine, not even a hey-you—just Kendall.”
He stuffed his hands back into his pockets. “That’s your name.”
She made a disgusted grunt and rounded the truck to the passenger side.
He followed her and slapped his hand against the door before she could open it. Frustrated by his jealousy, by the feelings she stirred in him, by the distance between them because of the Heron, he crowded in on her. She flattened herself against the panel, her chest rising and her eyes dilated.
“Christ, Sunshine, you make me fucking nuts.”
Then he slammed his mouth over hers. She drew a deep breath in through her nose, and he took advantage, opening her wide for a deep and driving kiss. She clung to him, her breasts smashed to his chest, making enough room to get his arm around her back and lift her onto her toes.
She was addictive, and he’d been jonesing for her. Even if he’d had her the day before, it wasn’t enough. He turned his lips away, pressing his cheek to hers as they both dragged in deep breaths.
He set her on her feet and backed away from her. Her taste lingered on his tongue, infused his blood, and infected him. He wasn’t sure he wanted a cure. He still wasn’t convinced the Heron would be fiscally feasible to keep. It was hard to reconcile his need for her and his disappointment.
Kendall wasn’t the type to deceive, but she wasn’t going to want to let go of the B and B either. Being angry with her was exhausting and frustrating. Double time on the frustration, both with their situation and how much he missed her touch.
“We need to get to the market.”
She pressed her lips together as if savoring the kiss. “Right.”
He bit back a groan and opened her door. She stepped up and inside; he slammed the door after her and turned. At least six people were openly staring at them. “Christ,” he muttered and headed to his side of the truck.
He’d kissed the hell out of her in the open at one in the damn afternoon on a Sunday. Everyone and their mother was in town for something.
He got in beside her and put the truck in gear. Their trip to
the market was uneventful, though there was definitely more staring. Kendall didn’t seem to notice or at least didn’t seem to care.
She seemed to know everyone, introducing him to so many people his brain was buzzing with names and faces. By the time he got them back to the house, he was ready to shut himself in the shop and blast his music.
Instead he hauled in the tree and placed it in the tree stand. Another twenty minutes of adjustment and he’d finally earned himself a beer.
Lily surveyed the room with a satisfied nod. “You outdid yourself, Kendall.”
“I know. Isn’t it beautiful? Brandon held it for me.”
“Oh, did he now?”
“Enough, Mom.”
Shane sipped his beer, then let it dangle from his fingers. “I’d like to hear this.”
“No, he would not.”
Now that Lily had an attentive audience, her cherubic face lit up, and her dark eyes danced. “Brandon’s always been sweet on my Kendall.”
“Sweet on me? Mom, we don’t live in the Deep South.”
“What else would you call it? The boy moons over you.”
“Yeah, he does,” Shane muttered.
Kendall rolled her eyes, then turned and fisted her hand on each hip. “That’s why you called me Sunshine at the tree lot.”
Shane took a lazy sip of his beer. “You put a lot of importance on a nickname, babe.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked to the left of him at her mother, then spun back to the tree. “We’ll let the tree soak up some water and the branches fall. We can trim the tree tonight, Mom.”
“Do you want to come over and help us, Shane?”
Shane looked down at Lily. “I’ve got some work to do in the barn.”
“That’s too bad. We watch bad movies and have a lot of fun.”
He drained his bottle. The urge to say yes surprised him, but he didn’t want to get in the middle of any traditions they had. Besides, they probably watched schmaltzy movies.
