Flirting with Destiny

by Christyne Butler

  He needed space to think, to breathe.

  And despite his father’s offer to replace the four-wheel drive Wrangler with something that made it easier to get behind the wheel, Dev had insisted on keeping it—it was the vehicle he’d bought the day he kicked his drinking habit.

  “But why the Blue Creek?” he asked his reflection in the rearview mirror as he turned over the engine and backed out of the parking space. “Why not go to Sherry’s Diner? Or grab a sandwich at Doucette’s Bakery?”

  He didn’t have an answer, or didn’t want to come up with one, so he cranked up the radio as he slowed to a stop at the parking lot exit, waiting for the chance to pull onto the street.

  Diagonally across from him was White’s Liquors, a red brick building with a faded red, white and blue advertisement from the 1940s to buy war bonds still visible on the side.

  When old man White had been alive, he’d had the ad repainted every five years in honor of the two brothers he’d lost during the war, but his kids owned the place now and the anniversary of the repainting had come and gone last fall without being touched up.

  The traffic had cleared, but Dev still sat there, staring at the building, wondering about the ad and realizing he hadn’t stepped foot inside the building in the last six years.

  Hadn’t needed to. Hadn’t wanted to.

  Until this very moment.

  His grip was so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles turned white. Pulling in a deep breath, he let go and put the Jeep in gear. Once he was on the street, he grabbed his cell phone and hit the button that connected him directly to Mac. Three rings later a buzzing noise filled his ear as Mac answered.

  “Dev?”

  Mac’s voice came through, but the reception was terrible. Dev released the pent-up breath with one whoosh. “Yeah, it’s me. Can you talk?”

  “At...airport.”

  Dev’s heart lurched. That was the last place he wanted to go. Okay, the second to last place.

  “Heading...home...meet you there.”

  Every other word of Mac’s was indecipherable, but Dev breathed a sigh of relief. “On my way.”

  “Dev...need to...arrived yesterday.”

  Circling the town square, Dev headed toward the sheriff’s office and the fire station. His gaze firmly on the road ahead, he didn’t allow even his peripheral vision to stray toward the open bays where a few of the firefighters were washing down the engine and the light-duty rescue truck.

  “Mac, you’re breaking up. This connection sucks.” The tightness in Dev’s chest eased as he headed out of town. “You can tell me when you see me. I’ll be waiting on the front porch.”

  Moments later, Dev drove past the entrance to his family’s ranch and the turnoff to his brother Adam’s place, and kept going until he saw the road to Mac’s farm. The land had been in his friend’s family for generations, much like the land the Murphy M7 Ranch sat on, but it hadn’t been a working farm for years.

  Turning into the driveway, he started to slow to a stop near the two-story farmhouse, but noticed a car parked down near the metal hangar out back. When a storm had destroyed the unused barn almost a dozen years ago, Mac had it torn down and erected a steel structure that housed his baby, a 1929 Travel Air 4000 biplane.

  Dev drove to the hangar, parking next to the plain brown sedan that sported Colorado plates. He frowned.

  He and Mac had talked last week and his friend hadn’t mentioned having any visitors. Maybe he planned to finally retire that hunk of junk pickup he drove and had picked up a newer used car.

  Then Dev noticed the single door to the hangar looked slightly ajar. He dropped his hat in the passenger seat, climbed out of his Jeep and walked as quickly as the ache in his leg would allow to check it out.

  Yep, definitely open.

  Slipping inside, Dev paused a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim interior. He skirted the protruding wing of the vintage plane Mac had lovingly restored piece by piece. His hand gently glided over the smooth fuselage even as his stomach tightened into familiar knots.

  Mac had allowed Dev to help with the restoration after he’d become his sponsor, and had taken him for his first flight the day Dev had celebrated twelve months of sobriety. He’d also been the one who got Dev interested in flying helicopters and was there the day he’d earned his pilot’s license.

  Not that Dev ever planned to be in the air again.

  Refusing to allow his thoughts to head in that direction, he kept walking, ignoring the pain, until he could’ve sworn he heard—

  Wind chimes?

  Yes, that’s exactly what it sounded like, along with music that should only be heard in an elevator.

  Wondering if Mac had left the radio on—though his buddy was more a fan of classic rock and roll than this stuff—Dev stepped into the back area of the hangar where Mac kept an office on one side and an all-in-one exercise machine on the other.

  The sight of a very shapely feminine backside perched in the air stopped him in his tracks.

  Hel-lo!

  Dev took in the position of the arms and legs that went with the sexy backside. The woman was twisted tighter than a pretzel. Then she slowly untangled herself to stand straight and tall. Still facing away from him, she showed off miles of toned muscles thanks to a skimpy tank top and leggings that hugged her curves in all the right places.

  And was that a tattoo on her shoulder?

  Not wanting to startle whoever she was, Dev cleared his throat. Nothing. Was the music too loud for her to hear him?

  He tried again but all she did was gracefully move into another position that left her balancing on one leg, arms stretched high over her head. She tilted her head back, a ponytail of dark hair brushing between her shoulder blades.

  Impressive. If he tried that, even when he’d had two good legs, he’d be flat on his butt in two seconds.

  Figuring the intruder was harmless, Dev took a few more steps and then leaned back against Mac’s desk. Crossing his arms over his chest, he ignored the pain the move brought and decided to enjoy the show.

  He let his gaze travel the length of her, surprised when he felt his body responding in a way it hadn’t in months.

  Not that he’d spent much time with the opposite sex since the crash, but this stranger was intriguing him in ways the blonde barmaid hadn’t even come close to.

  Who was she?

  Mac had a daughter from a long-ago marriage. Still, this woman was too young. Dev guessed she was in her late twenties, a few years younger than him.

  She couldn’t be a girlfriend, could she? The last he knew, the feisty Ursula, owner of the local beauty parlor his mother visited every week, was the current object of Mac’s affections.

  Maybe she was another lost soul looking for redemption?

  His buddy had helped many members of the local Alcoholics Anonymous chapter over the years, often letting those who needed a place to crash stay in the otherwise empty cabin.

  But Mac always kept his assistance to the male species. It was just simpler that way.

  Surprised that the idea of her possibly being off-limits bothered him, Dev tucked away his growing interest. Time to make his presence known once and for all.

  Looking away from her bare feet, he cleared his throat one more time and said, “Miss, I don’t mean to scare you—”

  She whirled around, and suddenly a barrage of foam bricks flew at him, pelting him on his shoulders, the last one bouncing off his chin, cutting off his words.

  More surprised than hurt, he easily deflected the next two bricks aimed at his head. Jerking away from the desk, he cursed under his breath as the familiar fire ripped down his leg and he wobbled like a newborn.

  “Hey! Knock it off!”

  * * *

  Tanya Reeves stood, arm cocked,
her breaths coming hard and fast, ready to hurl her last yoga brick at the tall stranger’s head. Her heart pounded in her chest, the hard-earned peace and tranquility from her yoga session blown to bits the moment she’d turned and found him behind her.

  “Who are you?” she demanded, between huffs. “What are you doing here? Don’t you dare come one step closer.”

  “I haven’t taken a step yet.”

  She dropped the brick and grabbed her cell phone from the cushioned bench attached to the nearby weight machine. “You better not. I’m dialing 9-1-1 right now.”

  “It’s not going to do you any good.”

  She scooted back a foot and took a stance, pushing her sweaty bangs out of her eyes. It’d been a few years since her last karate class, but she could still deliver a roundhouse kick with the best of them.

  Of course, this guy had to be almost six feet tall. Better shoot for the chest. “Yeah, well, we’ll see about that.”

  The man perched himself against the desk again, his arms at his sides, fingers curling around the scarred edge. The corner of his mouth quirked into a slight grin.

  A familiar grin?

  “There’s no reception in here,” he continued.

  She looked down at her phone. No bars. Damn!

  “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.”

  Yeah, if I had a dollar for every time I’d heard that. A snort of disbelief escaped before she could stop it.

  “I take it from your response you don’t believe me.”

  Tanya relaxed, but kept a safe distance away. She was probably overreacting, but life had a way of teaching hard lessons. “I might if I knew your name and what you’re doing here.”

  His smile grew, easy and natural, warming his icy blue eyes and sending her heart back into a rapid frenzy.

  Because his eyes looked familiar, too?

  No, that couldn’t be it. It had to be because he was tall, gorgeous and casually sexy in jeans and a button-down blue-striped shirt, pulled tight across nice shoulders.

  Her gaze dropped to his feet.

  Yep, cowboy boots, too.

  Quickly blaming her renewed shortness of breath on her weakness for men in cowboy boots, Tanya looked him in the eye again, offered a raised eyebrow and waited.

  “I’m a friend of the man who lives here,” he finally said. “The name’s Murphy. Devlin Murphy.”

  Devlin?

  And just like that, the memory of a stolen night a decade ago in Reno came back to her. After all these years, who would’ve thought the first person she’d run into in this town was the same drunken fool she’d shared what had been an almost-perfect evening with?

  A fool who clearly had no idea who she was.

  Chapter Two

  “Your turn.”

  Tanya blinked, chasing away memories of bright lights, crowded casinos and dark nightclubs where the same strong arms of the man in front of her had once held her close. “Huh?”

  “It’s only fair that you tell me your name now.”

  She wondered for a moment if he’d remember her. Until Devlin had said his name, she hadn’t realized who he was, but she blamed that on turning in the middle of a side stretch and finding a total stranger watching her.

  No, not a total stranger.

  Yes, actually he was.

  Ten years was a long time, and just because they’d spent one night together didn’t mean they knew each other.

  Of course, she’d known in a town the size of Destiny chances were good she’d run into him during her stay. Who would’ve thought it’d happen on her first day back?

  “Tanya,” she finally answered him, lowering her voice when the music shut off. “Tanya Reeves.”

  She watched his eyes. His face. Not a hint of recognition flickered there. Okay, that stung, but she shouldn’t be surprised. He’d been partying pretty heavily the night they’d met. A party that had continued until the wee hours of the next morning before they’d ended up back in his fancy hotel room....

  “Pleased to meet you, Tanya.” His words cut into her thoughts. “Now, can I ask how you got in here?”

  She dropped her hands to her hips, the need to call for help forgotten. “How I— How did you get in here?”

  “I have a key. One I didn’t have to use because the door was open.”

  No, that wasn’t right. She’d made sure she closed it behind her.

  “You have to jiggle the handle to make sure the latch catches,” he continued, as if he’d read her mind. “Otherwise, you never know who might walk in.”

  Tanya crossed her arms, suddenly conscious of her lack of clothing. Why it bothered her now when she practically lived in yoga wear she didn’t want to think about.

  Heck, the night she’d met Devlin Murphy she hadn’t been wearing much more than feathers and sequins. A lot of sequins.

  “Thanks for the tip. I’ll keep it in mind for the future.”

  “So, you plan to do...” His voice trailed off as he waved a hand in the air. “Whatever that was you were doing again?”

  “Daily.”

  His mouth pressed into a hard line and he gripped the edge of the desk. Did the idea of her working out here bother him that much? Why should he care?

  “And what I was doing is called yoga. Anusara yoga, to be exact,” she added. “It’s not as demanding as other forms, but after sleeping last night on that lumpy mattress in the cabin— Hey, are you okay?”

  He released his tight hold on the desk, but Tanya saw the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  She’d heard about the horrific accident he’d been in last summer—it had even made the papers in Denver, the well-known names of the victims jarring her memory. Once he and his brother had been found safe, the story had disappeared from the news, but the last reports had said that Devlin would be hospitalized for months.

  “I asked because you look like you’re in pain.”

  His jaw tightened further. “I’m not. Did you just say you slept in the cabin?”

  Tanya nodded, not believing his denial for a moment. “Mac offered me one of the spare bedrooms in the farmhouse, but I’m used to having my own space. He also told me the second key on the key ring was to this place and I was free to—”

  “Wait a minute, you have—” Surprise registered over his handsome features. “Why would Mac give you a key to the hangar?”

  “Why would he give you one?” she shot back.

  “Because we’re friends.”

  “Well, we’re family.”

  Devlin’s mouth literally dropped open. “You’re what?”

  “Steve Mackenzie is my grandfather.” The shock on his face had Tanya wondering if Devlin and Mac were as good friends as he claimed. “Didn’t you know he had a family?”

  “A daughter, yes, but they haven’t been in touch— I mean, they were— They’d just started to...”

  “Work things out?” she offered when he stumbled over his words. “That’s true. There were a lot of years he and my mother didn’t talk, didn’t have anything to do with each other actually, but that changed last fall. Mac came to visit just after Thanksgiving, and of course, my mom wanted me there, too. She thought it was time we got to know each other again.”

  “Again?”

  This time, Tanya smiled and took pity on him. “My mom and I lived here in Destiny with Mac until my eighth birthday.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  A fact she’d never shared with him that night ten years ago after he’d told her who he was and where he was from. Not that it would’ve helped her earn a spot in his memory.

  “Yeah, I remember Mac mentioning his daughter living with him for a couple of years, but that’s all.” He pu
lled in a deep breath and slowly released it, the tension leaving his jaw as that same charming smile she remembered came to his lips. “So you’re here for a visit.”

  Her heart started that crazy pounding again.

  Setting down her cell phone and grabbing her towel, Tanya held the cotton material to her chest, thankful for the way it draped down the center of her body as she patted at the sweat drying on her skin. “Actually, I came to help Mac.”

  “Help, how?”

  “I’m assuming you know about the arthritis in his hands?” Devlin nodded, but remained silent so she continued. “Well, I’m a licensed acupuncturist. We did a few sessions during his time in Denver, and it seemed to help with his pain. When the chance came for me to come here and work with him again, I agreed.”

  “Did you say acupuncture?” Devlin asked, swearing under his breath. “As in needles?”

  “Yes, that’s what she said.”

  Tanya turned at the low, gravelly voice of her grandfather.

  “Hey, Mac,” she said, using his nickname. Calling him Granddad didn’t feel right, given the fragile state of their renewed relationship.

  As she looked at him, she was still amazed at how much the man looked like Jimmy Buffett. She’d told him so when they’d reconnected back in November, surprised to find out her grandfather was as much of a fan of the famed musician as she was. “When did you get here?”

  “A few minutes ago and just in time, it seems.” He joined them, stopping to stand between her and Devlin and glancing at the brick-strewn floor of the hangar. “Good to see you, Dev. I tried to tell you about Tanya’s visit, but my phone kept cutting out on me.”

  Mac dropped a battered backpack at his feet. He held out his hands, clenching and releasing his fingers. “This damn knuckle-busting arthritis is tough on the flying. I’m sure glad she’s here.”

  “Yeah, so I heard,” Dev finally said. “But needles? Really?”

  Mac laughed and pushed the brim of his ball cap higher on his forehead. “Yeah, no big surprise I didn’t tell you about that, either. Besides, I didn’t just want Tanya here to help with my aching bones. We’ve been in touch quite a bit thanks to emails and phone calls the last few months, but we’ve still got a lot of catching up to do.”