by Cindy Kirk
“Another time.” He swam closer. “It’s getting dark. We’ll take a breather then haul these out.”
“I don’t need a breath—”
“Hands on my shoulders,” he ordered.
Shocked at the command in his tone, she obeyed.
“Wrap your legs around my waist.”
When she did, Keenan leaned back slightly and floated, easily holding them both up.
His water-slicked suit was hot, warmed by the once-bright sun. Mahogany hair glistened in the light. Hazel eyes, fringed with dark lashes, met hers.
Mitzi’s heart thumped noisily against her ribs. The familiar pull had her bringing fingers to the silky hair at the nape of his neck.
“This is fun, too,” she murmured.
He watched her speculatively for a moment. “I hope you like this, too.”
Keenan leaned in and pressed warm lips against hers. Though the kiss was light and sweet, it made her tremble.
“We shouldn’t do this,” she said.
“Why not?” If he had any doubts, it didn’t show. There was a spark of mischief in his hazel eyes. “We’re friends. Friends kiss.”
He was right, of course. There was no need to make such a big deal out of something as innocuous as two mouths coming together.
She twined her fingers in his hair, desire curling in her belly. “You know how some people can stop at just one potato chip?”
He cocked his head, his gaze quizzical.
“I’ve never been that kind of gal,” she said and closed her mouth over his for one more kiss.
Chapter Nine
It was almost one by the time Keenan settled under a large shade tree in Mitzi’s lawn to eat his lunch. He opened the brown bag just as a car pulled into the driveway. By the time his sister got out and unstrapped his nephew from his safety seat, he’d reached the vehicle.
Nate squealed when he saw him, his mouth open in a wide baby smile as his chubby legs chewed up the short distance between them.
In one fluid movement, Keenan scooped the child up and swung him around.
“Not too high,” Betsy warned. “He ate less than an hour ago.”
Sufficiently warned, Keenan settled for placing the boy on his shoulders. He shifted his gaze to his sister. In her gold jeans and multicolored shirt, Betsy reminded him of a stylish butterfly.
But it was the look of contentment in her eyes that had his heart stuttering with relief. After everything she’d been through, Betsy was happy.
He took the oversize bag from her shoulder and motioned her into the shade of the oak tree he’d been sitting under only moments before. Though it wasn’t particularly hot for September, the sun was high and bright in the cloudless sky. “What brings you out this way?”
Though many of their friends lived close, Betsy and Ryan lived in Jackson. She’d inherited their Aunt Agatha’s cottage, and they’d spent the better part of the past year remodeling the place.
“I only work half days on Friday, so I picked up Nate and we had lunch with Adrianna at the hospital.”
Adrianna, Keenan knew, was Betsy’s BFF, a popular nurse midwife in Jackson Hole and wife of Mayor Tripp Randall.
“How is Adrianna?” The brunette had been Betsy’s friend since childhood.
“Happy.” His sister’s lips curved. “She and Tripp are pregnant. They just found out.”
“I’ll have to offer my congratulations next time I see them.” Keenan struggled to grasp the reality that another of his friends was not only married, but a soon-to-be father.
Sometimes he felt as if he’d been caught in a time warp. During the period he’d spent “finding himself,” his friends had somehow made the leap from impetuous boys to solid-citizens-married-with-kids. Keenan pushed the disturbing thought aside. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“Nate isn’t a great sleeper.” Betsy yawned hugely, covering her mouth with the tips of her fingers. Apparently, the little boy wasn’t the only one up at night. “He fell asleep in the car on the way home from lunch. If I take him straight to the house, he wakes up. I never get him back down. So I took a drive. We ended up here.”
Betsy’s gaze settled on the beautiful house faced with stone and brick. “A lot of home for a single woman.”
Something in his sister’s tone put Keenan on alert. He was aware Betsy’s husband had once dated Mitzi. Though from the rumors he’d heard it hadn’t been much of a relationship, more of a brief infatuation on Ryan’s part. Though Betsy was cordial to Mitzi, there was a chasm between the two women, which he found disturbing.
He considered Mitzi a friend and wished Betsy could, too.
“It’s got a great floor plan,” he said, when he realized his sister expected a response.
“I was shocked when I heard Mitzi had sold her condo.” Betsy took one of her son’s chubby hands in hers and jiggled it. “She had a big housewarming party last year when she moved in.”
Keenan simply shrugged, the up-and-down motion making Nate, who still rested on his shoulders, giggle.
“I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised,” Betsy said in a casual tone that he guessed was anything but casual. “That seems to be Mitzi’s M.O.”
Keenan cocked his head.
“She wants something,” Betsy continued. “Gets it. Grows tired of it. Moves on to the next thing.”
“You make these assumptions simply because Mitzi purchased a condo, decided it was a mistake then sold it to build a house?”
Betsy’s widening eyes told him she’d caught the challenge in his tone.
“Not just that.” His sister absently fingered a leaf on a low-hanging branch of the tree shading them. “She’s like that with men, too.”
“Is she?”
Betsy nodded jerkily, two bright spots of pink dotting her cheeks. “When she first came to town, she and Benedict Campbell became an item. They lasted longer than most expected. They were on and off. More off than on.”
Keenan liked Ben, but it was obvious to him why he and Mitzi had split. While Ben was a nice guy, even he could see that Mitzi needed a more adventurous man. “If they didn’t get along, it was good they didn’t stay together.”
“She and Ryan went out a few times.”
Keenan’s gaze met his sister’s. “Before you and he got together.”
“That’s right,” Betsy acknowledged. “Only a handful of times. Then she moved back to Ben for a while then on to Kelvin Reid.”
“The NFL player.” Keenan had seen the guy on television escorting an actress to some premier. Slick and charming were his impressions before he flipped the channel.
“Kelvin went out of his way to come to Jackson to see her,” Betsy added. “He was even there at her condo housewarming.”
“He cheated on her.” Keenan’s voice went flat. “She dumped him. Smart move on her part.”
“Some think she’s got her sights set on Winn Ferris now.” Betsy’s tone took on a strange urgency as a gust of wind swept up, fluttering the leaves and making Nate chortle.
He tightened his hold on the boy’s chubby legs but kept his gaze firmly on his sister.
“I can’t see them together,” Betsy said with some reluctance. “But that’s the rumor.”
“Why are you telling me all this, Bets? You know I’ve never been one for gossip.”
The flush on his sister’s cheeks deepened. Still, she met his steady gaze with one of her own. “I see how you look at her when you think no one is watching.”
Keenan kept his expression impassive. He’d had a lot of practice keeping his emotions under wraps. It troubled him to think his sister—and perhaps others—could read him so easily. “Tell me. How do I look at her?”
She kicked at the dirt with the toe of her shoe. “Like you want to eat her up.”
“She’s beautiful and charming.” He kept his tone light. “What red-blooded male wouldn’t?”
“But you’re not in her league. That’s what she thinks anyway.”
He stilled and the air between them dipped twenty degrees.
Picking up on the tension in the air, the little boy began to whimper.
Betsy reached up her arms, scooped her son down from Keenan’s neck. “It’s okay, Nate.” She set him on the ground, pulled a small ball from the oversize bag at her feet and gave it a toss. “Go get it.”
The boy scrambled after the rolling ball, a wide grin on his face.
“Why do you think she’s out of my league?” Keenan asked in a conversational tone.
“For goodness’ sake, isn’t it obvious?” Betsy flung up her hands. Frustration snapped in her voice. “Mitzi isn’t like us, Keenan. She’s a doctor.”
He wanted to tell Betsy that if she knew Mitzi better, she’d understand the doctor wasn’t that different from them. Mitzi had faced similar challenges growing up. Instead he decided to focus on the obvious. “Your husband is a lawyer.”
“You know what I mean.”
The blood in Keenan’s veins froze. Anger and hurt warred in his gut.
“Because I’m an ex-con?” His voice was dangerously soft, flat. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying you’re too good for her. You’re a wonderful, caring man.” Misery flooded his sister’s face. “I love you so much. It would break my heart to see you hurt. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve only good things in your life. Only happiness.”
The anger that had begun to form like a dark storm inside him dissipated as suddenly as it had begun. He gathered his sister close for a quick hug.
“Don’t worry, Bets. I know the score.” He kissed the top of her head before releasing her. “I’ve always known the score.”
On Friday afternoon, Mitzi drove slowly home, exhaustion seeping from every pore. She’d had to tell a working man that an amputation was necessary due to cancer spread and a twenty-year-old college sophomore that recovery from a sports injury would likely keep her from playing volleyball until next season.
On her way out the door, she was reminded she’d be handling the out-of-town clinics for the rest of the year. The first trip was scheduled next week. Mitzi loved to fly but not in small planes. Still, there was no choice. The communities they served were too far to drive.
But she refused to let something that couldn’t be changed ruin what was left of the day. This evening, complete and total relaxation was the only thing on her schedule. Windsurfing with Keenan yesterday had wiped her out physically. The memory of his kisses had wiped her out emotionally.
Mitzi pulled into her driveway, already anticipating the bubble bath in her new whirlpool tub with a glass of wine for company. She paused to hit the remote button for the garage door and took the opportunity to check her online calendar to make sure she wasn’t scheduled for hospital rounds tomorrow.
She inhaled sharply.
No to the hospital rounds.
Yes to a date. With Winn Ferris. Tonight. Six o’clock.
She glanced at the time and yelped. The bath and wine would be preempted by dinner, classical music and the opportunity to wear her new dress and heels.
Mitzi may have grown up knowing next to nothing of fine foods and cultural pursuits, but she’d proved a quick study. She reveled in the lifestyle her salary as an orthopedic surgeon afforded her. Now that she had more time and more money, she was determined to experience life at its fullest.
Mitzi had what her friend Kate would call an “adventurous spirit.” While she loved the symphony and the opera, she’d have been equally happy to toss on cowboy boots and check out a rodeo or a barn dance.
She tried to imagine Winn Ferris with a beer in one hand, hot dog in the other watching a cowboy on an eight-second ride but couldn’t see it. That was okay. Not everyone was so open-minded about fun. Mitzi smiled, recalling her time with Keenan at the lake.
Windsurfing had been on her to-do list since her California days. But if Keenan hadn’t encouraged her yesterday to make time for it, she still wouldn’t know what a blast it could be. Kissing a handsome man while treading water had been equally fun.
She smiled as she readied herself for her date. Winn appeared to be going all out to impress her. Earlier in the week he’d told her he’d made reservations at La Maisonette, an elegant new restaurant that had opened earlier in the year. Getting the owner, a world-renowned chef, to relocate to Jackson Hole had been a real coup for the chamber of commerce.
Though Mitzi hadn’t yet eaten at the restaurant, she knew what to expect: tiny bits of artistically arranged food that wasn’t enough to fill up a three-pound Chihuahua. Still, she had no doubt the atmosphere would make up for the lack of quantity on the food front.
Would Winn kiss her tonight? Mitzi hoped so. Perhaps if they kissed, she’d feel a closer connection to him. Some men simply took a little more time to know.
A knock sounded on the side glass of her car. She jerked her gaze and found Keenan’s hazel eyes fixed on her. Instead of rolling down the window or pulling into the garage, she pushed open the door and stepped out into the sunlight.
Mitzi took in the dusty jeans, white shirt stained with flecks of paint and frayed ball cap and resisted the urge to sigh. No man should look that good without even trying.
Then she reminded herself that Winn was hot, too.
“Hey, windsurfer dude.” The teasing words came easily to her lips. “What’s up?”
“It’s Friday night, windsurfer chick.” Amusement edged his tone. “The rodeo is in town. They always have a dance afterward. It should be fun.”
An unspoken question hung in the air.
“I’m sure it will be.” Mitzi felt her pulse drum. “Me, I’m headed to the symphony. That should be fun, too.”
“I didn’t realize Jackson Hole even had a symphony.” Keenan gave a little laugh. “Tells you how far outside the loop I am. Are you going with a group of friends?”
“Actually, Winn Ferris invited me to go with him.” Mitzi kept her tone light. “He has season tickets.”
“Sounds like a nice evening.” Keenan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Joel asked me to work tomorrow and finish trimming out your kitchen. He said he cleared it with you.”
“I’m in favor of anything that will get the house finished earlier.” Only this week had Mitzi finally admitted to Kate—and Joel—she hadn’t fully understood what living in a house under construction would be like. Once she’d realized how bad it was, she wanted the job completed...yesterday.
“I planned to stop by at seven.” He shoved hands into his pockets, drawing her attention to the area below his belt buckle....
To that part of him that had been hard against her softness when he drew her close and they’d kissed.
“Mitzi?”
She banished the memory of how perfectly they’d fit together and smiled easily. “Seven will be fine. How was Bitty today?”
He smiled then, a warm, genuine lifting of the lips that did funny things to her insides. “She watches everything we do. If Bill is in one room and I’m in another, she divides her time. It’s almost as if someone told her to keep an eye on us. Could that someone be you? Or is she Joel’s spy kitty?”
Mitzi chuckled. “I’ll never tell.”
“Well—” Keenan rocked back on his heels “—I’d best head out. Have a nice evening.”
As she watched him go, Mitzi fought a pang of regret. Though she’d never been to a rodeo or a rodeo dance, playing cowgirl and dressing in jeans and boots sounded like something she’d enjoy.
As would the symphony, Mitzi told herself and headed into the house to put on her new black party dress and heels.
Chapter Ten
La Maisonette wasn’t actually a little room but several large ones. Elegant and romantic, the restaurant boasted linen-clad tables, baby’s breath and lavender in crystal vases, and stained glass panels over a series of windows with a perfect view of the mountains.
A maître d’, resplendent in a black tux, showed them to a table by one of t
hose windows. Their server, a clean-cut college type, appeared immediately. He was attentive without being disruptive and friendly without being too familiar.
The food was exactly as Mitzi expected: a tiny piece of fish no bigger than a domino, a tablespoon of risotto, two spears of asparagus. Still, she enjoyed the meal. Winn seemed pleased when she let him order, and they chatted easily about mutual friends and upcoming events in Jackson Hole.
Mitzi was thankful Winn had a lot to say about everything. It had been a long day and she didn’t feel like talking, especially not about herself. While she’d been completely honest with Keenan, for Winn she’d need to sanitize her home situation.
She’d discovered men reared in luxury often had difficulty identifying with her childhood. For the handsome man at her side, money had never been an issue. Still, it would be unfair to hold his privileged upbringing against him. Just as it had been unfair for her to hold Keenan’s prison time against him, Mitzi admitted with a twinge of remorse.
Because of the symphony, they skipped dessert. They slipped into their orchestra seats at the Center for the Arts just as the curtain rose.
The concert featured American composers, and Mitzi soon lost herself in the music. She barely noticed when Winn took her hand. His palms were smooth, the nails nicely manicured and his hands free of the nicks and scratches that marred Keenan’s.
She wondered if Keenan had ended up going to the rodeo, then determinedly pushed him from her mind. This was her night to build a relationship with Winn.
The business exec looked fabulous in his tailored dark suit and shiny Italian loafers. Thankfully he had splashed on different cologne tonight, a scent that actually smelled good. Unfortunately she still didn’t feel the slightest zing of electricity when his thumb began to caress her palm. She told herself again that attraction often needed time to build.
After the performance, Winn asked if she wanted to stop at the Green Gateau for cappuccino and dessert.
Give him a chance, Mitzi told herself. Give him a chance to wow you.
