Love is a Battlefield: Games of Love, Book 1

by Tamara Morgan

  “Scared of snakes? Katy-did, where do you get such ridiculous ideas?”

  “It’s not ridiculous. Julian—” She stopped herself before she said more. Something about how vulnerable he’d seemed when he’d shuddered in the moonlight, fearful of garter snakes, struck her as deeply personal. He wasn’t a man who let down his guard very often, and his guard had definitely been down that night. She’d felt it, in the trembling fingers that clutched the back of her neck and the velvet mouth that melded with her own.

  “Julian what? You don’t mean…” Jada grinned in that uniquely malicious way she had.

  “It’s nothing,” Kate stammered. She turned the wheel—and the conversation—sharply to the right. “I’m going to stop at the store before we get home, if you don’t mind. I think I owe Gretna at least three cans of cat food to make up for all the neglect. The poor little thing is starting to make friends out of my socks.”

  Jada didn’t offer an objection. Instead, she nodded and beamed, releasing a sigh and Duke’s name every couple of minutes to try to get Kate to react.

  Admirably, she didn’t.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Age of Chivalry

  “Sorry, bro, but if this is the way things are going to unfold for the next week, I’m not staying around.” Michael lifted a weight in a bicep curl, grunting with the effort of it.

  They were working out at the camp site that day—Julian’s idea, since he was afraid to leave Kilroy here alone for any length of time. There was no telling what damage might occur. An hour and the whole place might be under new zoning laws. Half a day and Kilroy might even be able to turn it into a golf course.

  Julian also had to do something to keep the guys from making more trouble than was necessary. Michael and McClellan had been pouting because Kilroy stole their women. Jada, Anne, some new girl and Kate had been circling around him for hours, catering to his already enormous ego.

  Let them. Maybe they’d get off his back and distract Kilroy from his training for a little while.

  “Some sidekick you are,” Julian admonished between sit-ups. “You’re not going anywhere. You had no problem with the camping plan before Kilroy showed up yesterday, and you can’t abandon me now.”

  “Easy for you to say. You have your bitter hatred to nurse like a baby at its mama’s teat. I, on the other hand, haven’t been near a nipple for days.”

  “I say Kilroy has even less of a chance lasting out here than Kate,” Julian muttered. He meant it. Kilroy was a strong man, but he wasn’t a tough one. The guy had to wear gloves when he threw a weight or hammer, for crying out loud. Couldn’t damage the baby-soft skin of his palms.

  “Are you ready?” Kilroy asked from right behind him.

  Julian jumped to his feet and whirled around, always ready and about to say so. But Kilroy wasn’t talking to him. He was talking to Kate, who’d shown up with her shapely legs clad, for once, in khaki-colored shorts and a sensible pair of hiking boots.

  “You’re going hiking?” Julian asked, unable to resist, even though it was obvious no one was talking to him. “You surprise me, Kate. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  There was an appreciative twist to her smile. “It’s walking. On dirt. You’d be surprised how adept I am.”

  “Well, take water. And a compass. Kilroy might look like a Boy Scout, but I doubt he could find his way out of hell with ten of the apostles as his guides.”

  “Very funny, Wallace.”

  A crease worked its way down Kilroy’s forehead as he tried to come up with a suitable retort. He didn’t get to one in time, though, and Kate’s lips quivered as she shot Julian a quelling look.

  Julian one, Kilroy zero.

  And then she took Kilroy’s hand in a nauseating display of affection. Damn. Maybe he wouldn’t keep score, after all.

  “It’s not very romantic for our second date, but Duke has promised to take me fishing when we get to the river,” Kate said. She added proudly, “We’re going to catch our dinner.”

  Julian broke into a full, rumbling laugh. The dam a few miles upland turned this part of the river into a tumbling fountain of rocks and waves. It would be almost impossible to catch anything without a large net and a whole lot of patience.

  “Now that is something I’d like to see.”

  Kate leaned on one of her feet and cocked her head, surveying him casually.

  “Why don’t you see it then? Come with us—I’m sure Duke won’t mind. It’ll save you the trouble of putting on a dark cloak and hiding in the trees.”

  So that’s how it was going to unfold. She probably didn’t think he’d dare take her up on the offer—and common sense told him not to.

  Common sense was overrated.

  “I’d love nothing more,” Julian said, flashing his teeth. He took a step back, gesturing for the lovebirds to lead the way. Kilroy mumbled something incoherent, but there was no real need to hear his words. His expression was enough.

  “Um…aren’t you going to take fishing poles?” Julian asked when they started heading for the trailhead by the field’s edge. They carried nothing more than a water bottle and a pair of jackets Duke had tossed casually over one arm.

  “No need.” Kilroy sneered. “I’m going to teach Kate how to catch a fish by hand—it’s an ancient art passed down through generations of my family. My branch of the Kilroy tree is one-twentieth Spokane Indian, I’ll have you know.”

  “Kilroy, you astound me—you’re going to teach Kate how to tickle her trout?”

  Kate was several paces ahead of him, but Julian could still hear the half-strangled choking sound she always made when trying very hard not to laugh. Kilroy, on the other hand, whirled around.

  “Are you disparaging my people?”

  “Well, yes, I think I am,” Julian admitted. “I imagine my people have been out-fishing yours for centuries. Especially since I doubt you’ve ever even seen a fish that wasn’t on a plate and covered in lemon sauce.”

  Of course, Julian had never—his people or not—done more than snag a few brightly colored fish eggs to a manufactured hook and cast a lure from a well-tended bank. But if he couldn’t put on a better show than Kilroy down there at the river…well, he deserved the shame of it, that was all he’d say.

  The men tacitly agreed not to mention the matter again before they reached the river—otherwise, they wouldn’t get down there before the sun did. Julian played his role of third wheel dutifully, sauntering along down the hill behind them. True to her word, Kate did seem both able and willing to walk on dirt, albeit with a stumbling gait that made her look like a colt picking its way over the ground. At one point, Julian broke a branch off one of the trees that grew all along the side of the path and placed it in Kate’s hand.

  “It’s a walking stick,” he explained when she looked at it with an odd expression.

  “I know what it is,” she muttered before turning away. But she used the stick. A lot.

  There was a fork about halfway down the path, which had been carved into the slope at as much of a low grade as possible. One path led back up along the top of the cliff’s edge, a favorite running spot among most of the guys, since it offered a series of peaks and valleys that were tough on the quads. The other path continued all the way down to the water. Because it wasn’t used very often, it was overgrown and rocky, with brush obscuring some of the footholds.

  Julian had been down to the river only a few times before. Although most of his memories of the Scottish Highland Games had to do with Cornwall Park, he’d never spent so much time in the area before. Camping here, in the weeks leading up to the event, was turning out to be a pretty great idea. There was something about sleeping under the stars that made him feel connected to the sport in a way he didn’t know existed. He’d heard of jockeys sleeping in the same stalls as their horses in the nights leading up to the Kentucky Derby, but it had always seemed like one of those old wives’ tales generated to sell more tickets and mint juleps.

  It
made sense. The park was more than a few acres of scenery to set the backdrop to activity. There was history in the land, in the packed dirt where he slept. So many feet had walked there, run there, pushed themselves to the limit there.

  Except now there were other footprints to contend with. Like Kilroy’s wingtip impressions, which kicked up dust and filled his mouth with the taste of grit and oil. And Kate’s feather-light tread, which was so soft he rarely heard it coming—but was still able to leave marks like a deep bruise that never materialized on the surface.

  “It’s lovely down here.” Kate stood at the water’s edge. “I imagine it’s pretty amazing in the spring when the water is high.”

  “I’ve never been down here in the spring,” Julian confessed, even though he wasn’t sure the remark was directed at him and not at Kilroy, who stood looking regally out over the river, one leg resting up on a rock like he was about to teabag its hard, gray surface.

  “It’s better this way,” Kilroy announced. “You can’t fish when the water is high—you have to be able to wade in. Are you ready for your lesson?”

  “Why don’t you two demonstrate how it’s done, and I’ll watch from the nice, dry land?” Kate suggested. She crouched down to the water’s surface and dipped a hand in before promptly pulling it back out. The river was fed right from the mountains, and even under the full heat of the afternoon sun, it was chilly.

  “No way. I was promised trout tickling. We’re not leaving until someone hands me a fish,” Julian interjected.

  Kate shook her head, belligerence in the narrowness of her eyes. “Once again, Julian, not everything in this world is about you. One might even argue you are the least necessary person standing on this riverbank.”

  “One might argue that, if one hadn’t practically begged me to join her,” Julian replied, matching her mocking tone with one of his own.

  They both looked up at the sound of a splash. Kilroy had stripped off his shirt and jumped into the river, dipping his head in the water and whipping his hair around like he was in a shampoo commercial. Kate sighed—a sound Julian wished was accompanied by an expression, because he couldn’t tell if she was as irritated as he was, or if she was doing the adult equivalent of drawing Kilroy’s name in her notebook with little hearts and swirls.

  “Shall we?” Kilroy held out a hand, which Kate stared at for a brief moment before taking off her shoes and socks and joining him in the water. Goose bumps broke out on her legs and arms, and it was all Julian could do to keep his gaze on the flow of the water and not travel right to her chest, to see how well the rest of her body responded to the cold.

  He shed his own footwear and stepped into the water up to his calves. His legs contracted with the sudden change in temperature, but he welcomed the sensation all the same. It was something solid and concrete to take his attention away from the fact that Kilroy was standing right behind Kate, his arms around her waist and their bodies close as he tried to demonstrate the slicing action it took to catch the fish.

  “That’s not how you do it,” Julian grumbled.

  That was another solid thing to concentrate on. The fact that Kilroy was an idiot.

  Kilroy didn’t say a word—he simply took a few steps backward and cracked his knuckles. With one swift karate-chop action, his hand hit the water’s surface with almost no splash before rising up again just as fast. Julian had to admit it—he half thought the bastard would come back up with some wriggling, slimy fish, which he would then toss to the bank before catching so many more he’d put Jesus’s multiplication skills to shame. But there was nothing but a few drops of water and a low curse.

  Julian laughed and took a few steps forward, scanning the water for signs of life. A few flashes of silver indicated it might not be impossible to catch something after all, though he’d be damned if he’d try to duplicate Kilroy’s attempts. Patience and perseverance—those were the keys to taming any part of nature, whether animal, mineral or human. All he had to do was stay strong and silent, and the prey would come to him.

  “Do you honestly think it’s going to swim right into your hand?” Kate asked, watching him with interest.

  Julian laughed. “This is how it’s really done outside of Hollywood. If you can get the fish stuck next to a rock and reach under its stomach, giving it a little rub makes it all dazed and adoring. Like cats.” He grinned. “Or women.”

  “Oh, you’re such a connoisseur of all things masterful, aren’t you? Fifty bucks says Duke can catch a fish before you.”

  Kilroy heard the boast and swelled accordingly. “Double it, Kate. I almost had one of the little suckers.”

  “You hear that? The man wants us to make it one hundred—unless you’re afraid, Julian?”

  Julian felt the nibble of a fish on his forefinger, but he didn’t move. So quietly it was almost a whisper, he said, “Care to make it really interesting?”

  A flicker of color in her eyes indicated Kate knew exactly what he meant. They could play for Cornwall Park. They could play for victory.

  “Done.”

  With a huge kicking splash at him, she got out of the water, taking any of his chances with the fish along with her. Julian couldn’t help but acknowledge the blow with a smile. She wasn’t one to make winning easy—though she was damn good at making it fun.

  Although Julian was acutely aware of Kate seated on a large, flat rock near the path’s entrance, sunning herself like a turtle, he focused all of his attention on the water. He moved to stand several yards upriver from Kilroy and his ridiculous slicing movements, squatting into a crouching position to keep as close as possible to the shallow bottom along the edge of the river. The lowering sun beat down on his back, an odd sensation next to his nearly numb lower half, but the warring sensations felt right for the situation. Kate and Kilroy. Kate and him. Julian couldn’t help but feel that her journey down to the water’s edge with his nemesis was all part of a show designed to irritate him.

  It was working.

  “Did we remember to bring flashlights?” Kate called.

  It might have been a few minutes later, or it might have been an hour—Julian had been so intent on the movements of the fish that he lost all sense of time. When he turned to the sound of her voice, he noticed the sun had made considerable headway through the sky.

  “I didn’t bring any,” Julian admitted. “Maybe Kilroy and his people have a solution for that too.”

  “Very funny.” Kilroy stomped out of the water, obviously giving up for the day.

  Julian was about to join him when felt a tickle on his big toe. Looking down, he noticed a fish exploring the rocks at his feet. He didn’t move, didn’t bother even to breathe. He crouched down as silently as he could, his hand making almost no splash as it entered the water.

  With the flick of his wrist, he shot out his fingers, not exactly gripping the animal but getting far enough underneath it so that it flew a few inches out of the water. He had it.

  But it promptly fell back in and swam away as fast as its fins would go.

  Kate laughed from the riverbank, where she’d watched the entire attempt. “I’m glad I don’t have to depend on either one of you to be my provider. We’d have all starved about five days ago.”

  Kilroy grumbled, but Julian gave a good-natured shrug and climbed back on to the bank. “I’ll have you know I’m exceptional at making grilled cheese sandwiches.”

  “So, what now?” Kate asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. Fortunately, Kilroy had put his shirt back on, leveling the score between them. “No fish means no dinner—and no one wins the bet. I’m disappointed in you both.”

  “Next time, Kate. I promise.” Kilroy reached over and patted her head. It looked awkward and forced. Even Kate thought so—Julian could tell by the way her eyes met his and crinkled around the edges, laughter tugging at her lips.

  “Technically, you should have to participate in your own bet,” Julian pointed out. He couldn’t tell if they were joking or serious
ly discussing a solution for their problem. Either way, he was game. There wasn’t an activity on this planet he wouldn’t love going head-to-head with that woman over. “We should think of something else.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

  Kilroy shifted and sighed. “What are you two talking about?”

  “We’re determining who’s the better man,” Kate said. She looked around as if searching for inspiration. “But it can’t be strength-related, because that’s not fair.”

  “And I don’t do trivia,” Julian added.

  Kate grinned. “Eating contests are definitely out.”

  Julian laughed, and he used the moment to draw closer to her. His voice low, he added, “I can think of one thing we’re both pretty good at.”

  She caught his meaning, her face diffusing with color. That was a challenge he could promise not to back down from. For a long time.

  “Are we ready to head back up, Kate?” Kilroy interrupted, checking his watch with poorly concealed irritation. He hadn’t heard that last part.

  “I’ll walk her home,” Julian announced. Both Kate and Kilroy looked like they wanted to fight him on the issue, but he stood taller and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe he hadn’t been able to catch a fish with his bare hands, but he knew what kinds of things he was capable of mastering. Kate was one of them.

  She had to be. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up without doing something about the way she made him feel—like he was powerful and powerless at the same time. Like he wanted to fight with everything he had and give up everything that mattered just to feel her body next to his.

  They both must have sensed how willing he was to back up his words, because Kilroy turned with a muttered curse, offering one last time to take Kate back up to camp. She shook her head wordlessly, not drawing any closer to Julian but not pulling away either.