by Coleen Kwan
“Not long. I’m leaving on Saturday. Filming starts up next week.”
“Ah, the glamorous life of a TV star,” Caleb teased. “So what’s up with you and Marla Beaudry? Are you two still an item?”
Hannah, busy with Caleb’s sandwich, couldn’t help noticing Derek’s shoulders stiffening. “Marla Beaudry?” she asked. “You know her?” Hannah might not have a lot of spare time, but even she knew of the sultry singing sensation known for her provocative music videos.
Caleb answered her. “She was a celebrity guest on Derek’s show. He built her a shoe closet and since then they’ve been like this.” Caleb held up two fingers twined together.
Derek drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “We’re just friends now.”
“Just friends? Dude, Marla Beaudry is seriously hot, and I’ve seen those pictures of you two hanging out in clubs. How can you be just friends?”
Derek’s gaze shifted to Hannah. Was it her imagination or did he seem embarrassed? We’re just friends now, he’d said. Which meant that he and Marla had been more than friends initially. She didn’t know why that bothered her. Could it be that she felt a tiny bit…jealous? God, no, how ridiculous.
“Didn’t realize you were into entertainment gossip,” Derek said lightly.
“Only when it involves you. I saw that footage of you and Marla when she got arrested for assaulting a photographer.” Caleb sobered up a little. “You’re not being dragged into that, are you?”
“I wasn’t arrested. I try to stay on the right side of the law these days.” Derek’s eyes met Hannah’s, and she knew he was thinking of the cop who’d pulled him over just half an hour ago.
She placed the wrapped sandwich in front of Caleb. “Here you go. Ham and Swiss cheese, your favorite.”
“You’re a star. Damn, I have to go. I still need to get that spanner set from the garage.” Caleb rose to kiss her on the cheek. He turned to Derek. “Will you be home tomorrow? I can swing by for a visit.”
“I’ll be home, though my grandpa will probably be in a foul mood.”
“So what’s new?” Caleb laughed as he scooped up his sandwich and left.
Alone with Hannah, Derek wondered if she wished he would leave too. He didn’t want to at all, he realized.
“So, Marla Beaudry, huh?” Her smile seemed a bit indulgent, like she was humoring him.
Crap. She still viewed him as a kid, hanging out with the wrong crowd, getting into trouble. But he wasn’t a kid anymore. Couldn’t she see that?
“Like I said, we’re just friends.”
“Yeah. Now.”
He and Marla had hooked up once and discovered they had zero sexual chemistry. They had remained friends, but to the rest of the world it looked different when they were snapped leaving clubs and parties together. Marla was a very hands-on person, and she liked playing it up for an audience.
But he wasn’t interested in Marla right now. The only woman who held his attention was right in front of him. He grabbed his glass of milk and drained it in one gulp.
Hannah’s grin widened. “Nice milk ’stache there, Derek.”
Damn. And here he was hoping to look all grown up and mature. He scrubbed the back of his hand across his upper lip. If only Hannah had a milk ’stache, too. He bet she’d look really cute with one. And wouldn’t it be fun to lick it off her upper lip…
The image sent a pang right through him. He gripped his glass hard, the coolness pressing against his hot palm.
“So aside from Marla, there’s no one serious in your life?” Hannah asked, apparently oblivious to his reaction. Christ, if she knew what he was thinking, she’d be horrified. Or, worse, amused.
“No.” He studied her closely, trying—and failing—to see if his answer pleased her or not.
“Guess you’re young, and L.A. is filled with gorgeous young women. You don’t want to tie yourself down.”
“I’m not that young,” he protested. He’d never felt young. Never experienced that carefree childhood other kids had.
Hannah tilted her head, studying him in that focused way of hers that made him feel he was the only person who mattered. This must be how her patients felt when she took care of them.
“True,” she said. “In some ways you always were more mature than the other boys.” He winced internally at being lumped with the “other boys,” but Hannah continued. “And you’ve achieved so much at such a young age—your furniture business and your TV show.”
“It’s not ‘my’ TV show,” he was quick to point out. “I just have one segment, and it’s only on cable.”
Carpentry was his passion, not television. Hannah’s late grandpa Joe had nurtured his interest, patiently showing him how to hone his craft. He’d started his cabinetmaking apprenticeship while still in high school, and when he’d turned eighteen he’d moved to Los Angeles, eager to get away from his grandfather. Now, with Ben, his business partner and friend, he had a thriving business in high-end, bespoke cabinetry. That was his focus, not the TV stuff.
“The TV thing’s only temporary,” he said. “Nothing long term.”
“Hmm.” Leaning an elbow on the table, Hannah tapped a finger against her chin as her clear green eyes studied him. Her appraising look reminded him of the times she’d told him he needed a haircut or a clean T-shirt. “And what do you want long term?”
He’d thought he’d always known what he wanted. When he was a kid drifting around southern California with his mom, all he’d wanted was for them to settle in one place and put down roots. Then, when she’d dumped him with Grandpa Otto here in Pine Falls so she could join a commune somewhere in the wilds, all he’d craved was autonomy from his overbearing grandfather. Having Caleb and Hannah in his life had made things bearable, but after Hannah had married and moved away, he could hardly wait to finish high school and get away. He knew what he wanted—independence, a good job, and money wouldn’t hurt either. He’d gotten all that and more money than he expected.
But now Hannah was sitting a few inches away, and right at this moment he knew what he really wanted.
“Long term? I don’t make plans too far ahead, but right now it’s a nice evening. Why don’t we go out for a drink?”
Chapter Two
My kid brother’s best friend just asked me out for a drink.
In all her wildest dreams, Hannah had never imagined she’d be having this bizarre thought. Derek looked expectantly at her, and she realized she’d been staring at him for some time. Quite possibly with her jaw hanging open, too.
“U-uh,” she stuttered. “You mean like at a bar or something?” God, she sounded like such an idiot.
Derek’s lips twitched at the corners. “Yeah, a bar would be good. I am over twenty-one, you know.”
Ah, hell. As if she needed any reminding of his age. She sneaked another peek at him, and once again a weird frisson ran through her as she took stock of how much he’d changed.
She gave herself a mental shake. Of course Derek had changed. Since she’d last seen him he’d gone from boyhood to manhood. He was a fully functional adult now, and a very successful one, too. Though it seemed he couldn’t avoid the police here in Pine Falls.
“Is something wrong?” Derek lifted his eyebrows.
What was wrong? Nothing, and everything. She couldn’t explain it, this jumble of emotions his appearance had triggered.
“No,” she said automatically.
“You look upset.”
She wasn’t used to someone noticing her feelings. She’d been with Rick too long, that was for sure. When had Rick stopped being concerned about her feelings? Had it started a lot earlier than she realized? Maybe even back when they were just dating. Certainly he hadn’t cared about her feelings when he’d cheated on her with that radiology technician. She’d found out later it wasn’t the first time he’d slept around, not by a long shot. Now Rick was living the single high life in Miami. And Hannah was back home, with nothing to her name except a few hundred dollars in the bank a
nd a beat-up old Ford Fiesta.
She flicked back her ponytail, searching for a chirpy tone. “I’m not upset. Must be my wrinkles confusing you.”
He leaned toward her across the table, and his searching eyes made the heat rise in her cheeks. “Can’t see any wrinkles from where I’m sitting.”
The warmth intensified in her face. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me, Derek Carmichael.” She added a flippant wave of her hand, knowing that was the only way to treat his words.
His eyes widened, and for a second she saw genuine surprise. He really had the most attractive eyes. Clear cerulean with tiny specks of silver, fringed with dark lashes. A girl could get lost in those eyes— She cut off her thoughts before they wandered into dangerous territory. She’d just recently divorced her lying, cheating, dirtbag husband; this was no time to fall under another man’s spell. Especially one as footloose and fancy-free as Derek.
Derek gave her a lopsided grin. “Me? Flirt? You know me. I never flirt.”
That was true. When he was a teenager she’d never seen him chase after any girl. They just fell for him. And now it seemed he had women like Marla Beaudry at his beck and call. Marla, with those big lips and busty curves. How dull and skinny she felt in comparison… Wait a second. Why on earth was she even comparing herself to Marla? She wasn’t competing for Derek’s attention.
She shook her head, annoyed with herself. “Well, that’s a relief.”
He was still leaning over the table, his expression intent. “So, how about it?”
He was so large, not just in size but presence, too. His forearms resting on the table were roped with muscle, and she felt a strange itch to brush her fingers over those solid, manly arms.
“How about what?” she asked, feeling hopelessly out of her depth.
“How about that drink? I hear Jimmy’s is still open downtown. Shouldn’t be too busy on a Wednesday night.”
“Uh, I, uh…” Hell, why couldn’t her mouth form any words?
“I’d just have to check on my grandpa first. Make sure he’s finished his dinner and all. But I’m certain he won’t want me at home this evening.”
Her heart panged for Derek. He’d never spoken much about his grandfather, but it was plain Otto didn’t care for his only grandson. Pine Falls had its fair share of cantankerous old hermits, and Otto was well known for his grumpiness and his desire for isolation. Judging by the amount of time Derek had spent here at the Willmett house, he’d had a tough time living with his granddad. So coming back and putting himself in this situation would be no picnic for Derek, especially when he had no reason to, except for his conscience.
But this didn’t help her. She had enough trouble adjusting to this adult, attractive Derek without going all mushy inside about him.
“I don’t think Jimmy’s is a good idea,” she said, more abruptly than she intended.
“Why not?”
“Because, um, I have work tomorrow.”
“I was only suggesting one drink, not an all-night party.” He paused. “We could do that another night.”
“Me? An all-night party?” she scoffed.
“Why not?”
“Stop asking why not.” At the back of her mind curled a wisp of panic.
“It’s a valid question.” He continued to gaze at her, persistent and unruffled. “We’re both adults. We can go to a bar and enjoy a drink. I don’t see the big deal.”
How could he sit there looking so calm? It didn’t matter how grown up he looked, he was still her kid brother’s friend, and she couldn’t get her head around that. And besides, he was a player—exhibit A: Marla Beaudry—and she was on a strict no-player diet.
“It’s…it’s just that I’ve had a long day, and I was planning on an early night.” All of that was true, so why did she say it like she knew it was the lamest excuse ever?
He exhaled loud enough for her to hear, and that made her wonder if he’d been holding his breath. Did Derek want to go with her to a bar that much?
He pushed to his feet, the scraping of his chair sounding harsh in the sudden silence.
“Guess I should get going,” he muttered.
Her heart dipped. She hadn’t meant to chase him away—she was glad to see him. She stood, too, noticing once again how he filled the space. The kitchen was a decent size, but with Derek there it felt cramped, as if there wasn’t enough oxygen to go around. Yet another change she had to adapt to. She’d always felt comfortable in his company before. He was simply Caleb’s friend who liked to hang around, not saying much. But now he made her fidgety and edgy, and as much as she didn’t want him to go, it would be a relief to be able to breathe normally again.
“I’ll see you around,” she said as she walked him to the front door.
“Thanks for the sandwich.” He paused, and then, without warning, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s good to see you again, Hannah.”
Then he was gone, the screen door snicking shut behind him, and she was alone, the warm press of his arms around her body lingering long after his footsteps had faded into the night.
“What the Sam Hill do you think you’re doing?” Otto barked.
Derek looked up from the storeroom floor where he was crouched amidst piles of cans, bottles, and boxes. “Grandpa, why do you have so much food in here?”
“It’s none of your business. You leave my things alone.”
Derek lifted up an oversize can of tomatoes. “But there’s no way you’ll ever eat all this.” He picked up a leaking bag of flour. “And look at this. Something’s chewed a hole here, probably a mouse. Some of this stuff needs to be cleared out.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Leaning heavily on one crutch, Otto jabbed the other at Derek. “You put that flour back. And everything else. I need all of it.”
“What for?” Derek gestured at the jumble surrounding him. It looked like his granddad had been hoarding food for months, if not years. “Are you planning on opening a soup kitchen?”
“Soup kitchen? Fat chance.” Otto snorted. “I’m not wasting my bug-in supplies on tramps and hoboes. They and everyone else can take care of themselves when the big one hits.”
“Bug-in supplies?” Sighing, Derek rose to his feet. “Is that what all this is? You’re prepping for a disaster?” He should have guessed it before. After all, Otto had broken his leg falling off a ladder while attempting to connect his gutter to a rain barrel.
His granddad stuck out his bristly chin. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me, boy. And when Armageddon strikes, don’t come running here either, ’cause I ain’t got enough supplies for you. Not that you’d ever make it from L.A. The roads would be crawling with thugs, if there are any roads left.”
“So what kind of Armageddon are you prepping for? An earthquake, civil riots?”
“Maybe. Could be Yellowstone blowing up, Ebola, solar flares. Could be anything. Whatever it is, I’ll be prepared, unlike all the fools out there.”
His grandfather had always been a recluse, but now he seemed to be actively looking forward to the end of the world and barricading himself against everyone else.
“I seriously doubt society will break down so easily, but even in the remote chance that it does, you’re not going to last long eating contaminated food like this.” Derek waved the spoiled bag of flour. “This will make you sick. There’s probably a lot of food here that needs to be thrown out.”
His grandfather’s thin face puffed up with red. “I don’t need you telling me what I can and can’t eat. And if I wanted you to tidy up this room, I’d have asked you.”
Derek scowled at the messy storeroom. His grandfather ruled his house like a Spartan—no luxury, no waste, no comfort—but he’d always kept it basically clean. And he’d never let vermin into his house. But maybe the years were finally catching up.
An uncomfortable feeling rolled through Derek. His grandfather had only ever tolerated him, constantly grumbling about th
e noise, the expense, and the trouble he caused, never showing any softness or kindness. But now the old man was growing old and fragile and needed his help, even if he insisted he didn’t.
“Grandpa,” he said more softly, “if you’re prepping for the end of the world, then doesn’t it make sense to be more organized? This storeroom needs to be cleaned up, and I’m going to do it.”
“You’ve become mighty pushy since you left home. I suppose you want to build me shelves and racks, huh? Maybe even a pantry, too? One of them half-witted ones with pull-out drawers and spice racks.” He spit out the last words like they tasted rotten.
“I can put in shelves here if you like,” Derek said, determined not to lose his cool. “You could tell me exactly what you want.”
“What I want is for you to leave my storeroom and everything in it alone.” Otto glared at him before he swung around and hobbled away. A few seconds later came the sound of the television tuned in to some fifties Western.
With a sigh, Derek set aside the bag of flour and surveyed the remaining piles. It wouldn’t take him long to straighten out the storeroom.
He was hefting a bag of spoiled food to the garbage bin outside when Caleb arrived in his pickup truck. Derek got rid of his load and went to greet him.
“I’m actually on my way out of town,” Caleb said. Caleb’s construction job meant he was often away from Pine Falls for several days at a time. “Won’t be back until Sunday, so this is the only time I could see you.”
“Want a root beer?”
“Yeah, sure.” Caleb followed him to the kitchen where Derek pulled a couple of root beers from the fridge. They settled themselves on the back porch.
“Root beers.” Caleb grinned. “Look at us. Who’da thought us two would become so responsible?”
“You calling yourself responsible?” Derek quirked a brow at his buddy. “I know you still lose big time on your poker games.”
“Hey, a man’s gotta have a few vices. You have women, and I have poker.”
Derek pressed his lips together. He knew he had a reputation, but it wasn’t as bad as the tabloids made out.
