He must frequent the Pasco airport as often as she did with his rodeo travels. That was probably why she’d seen him there before and why he was waiting in the seat next to her to board the flight to Denver.
“Where are you traveling today?”
“Tennessee,” Tate replied, grateful he arrived late at the airport. The only seat left in the waiting area was the one next to the dark-haired beauty who caught his eye the last few times he flew out of town. “Call me Tate. All my friends do and I certainly hope we’ll be friends.”
Kenzie narrowed her gaze. She should have known he’d start flirting within seconds of sitting down. Apparently, a pair of boots, a Stetson, and perfect-fitting Wranglers gave a man free license to flirt with any female crossing his path.
“I don’t make it a habit of becoming friends with people I randomly meet at the airport.” She tore her gaze away from Tate’s gorgeous blue eyes. Swiftly closing the fashion magazine she’d been mindlessly reading before he startled her, she stuffed it into her bag and checked her watch again.
“Really?” Tate pushed the brim of his Stetson up with an index finger and revealed a hint of light brown hair. “I figure once names are exchanged and handshakes are given, you’re a friend until proven otherwise.”
Heat filled her cheeks at his words. Despite his friendly tone and broad smile, she recognized a rebuke when she heard one.
What was it about this man that threw her off her game?
As a corporate trainer for one of the most successful direct sales companies in the country, she could get a room filled with consultants on their feet and enthusiastically following her direction with no problem. She could take on the corporate team, pitch ideas, and win them over to her way of thinking with hardly a blink.
But put her next to a cowboy, especially one as attractive as Tate, and she lost the ability to function with any degree of logic or wisdom.
A voice over the loudspeaker interrupted her thoughts, announcing another fifteen-minute delay for the Denver flight.
Kenzie released a pent-up sigh, opened a zippered pocket on her bag, and pulled out her phone. She sent a text message to the organizer of the regional meeting in Denver she planned to lead later that morning, informing the woman she would probably be late.
Normally, Kenzie liked to arrive the day before an event so she didn’t run the risk of being late. It also gave her time to prepare to give her best to the consultants.
The trainer originally lined up to lead the meeting had an emergency and asked Kenzie to cover for him, so she’d only found out she needed to be in Denver the previous evening.
“Is everything okay?” Tate drummed his fingers on the arm of the seat. In spite of his calm facade, he had a tight connecting flight schedule and if they didn’t get moving, he was going to miss his plane.
“It will be if we can board and be on our way soon,” Kenzie said, tugging on the navy skirt of her business suit. The airport was warm and stuffy, crowded as it was with people waiting for flights, even though it was early May and the temperature outside was pleasant. “I’m leading a meeting in Denver and unless we make up some time in the air, a few hundred consultants will be left waiting for me to get there. I don’t like to keep people waiting.”
“That’s good to know.” He grinned again. “What is it you do?”
Kenzie glanced over to see if he was genuinely interested or just killing time. At the inquisitive look in his eyes, she relaxed a little.
“I’m a corporate trainer with Dew.” Kenzie took a business card from her bag and handed it to him. “We’re a skin care company that’s been around since the 1940s.”
Tate accepted the card from Kenzie and stared at the logo of a pale blue dewdrop with the word “Dew” embossed in gold across the center.
“Dew?” He thought it was an odd name for a company. “Where’s the name come from?”
Kenzie smiled and Tate felt drawn to the light shining in her beautiful brown eyes. They reminded him of the molasses his dad was so fond of eating - dark, rich, and sweet.
“All women want a soft, dewy complexion.” She bit her tongue to keep from launching into her usual spiel about the company and their superior products.
“If they hired you to be a walking billboard, you do a great job,” Tate said, causing Kenzie to blush again. “So your company is all about stuff women use to preserve their youthful appearance?”
“Basically.”
Convinced the outrageously handsome cowboy next to her would not understand the importance of moisturizers, lotions, and exfoliators to the health of aging skin, she nodded her head.
Tate shot her a wicked grin. “So your people go door-to-door peddling goo?”
“No, they don’t go door-to-door or peddle goo.” Kenzie couldn’t stop the smile lifting the corners of her mouth as she removed a catalog from her bag and handed it to Tate.
He browsed through the glossy pages, noticing the company offered more than just lotions and potions. Dew sold a collection for men, spa items, and gift options in what appeared to be a well-thought-out product line.
“How does it work? How do your… what did you call them? Consultants?” At her nod he continued. “How do they get catalogs into the hands of potential customers?” Unfamiliar with the concept of direct sales, if Tate found something he didn’t know, he quickly set out to learn all he could on the topic.
“Home parties. People invite friends into their homes and host parties. Consultants give a brief presentation and take orders. The party host receives freebies and discounted product for her trouble and people get together for a fun hour or two while shopping in the comfort of someone’s home,” Kenzie explained, warming to the subject.
She put herself through college doing direct sales. Her passion for the industry, Dew in particular, was why she was a well-respected corporate trainer at the age of twenty-seven.
“If I invite a bunch of buddies to my house, set out some snacks and have one of your consultants come show us your stuff, you’d give me freebies?” Tate asked, only halfway joking. If he could somehow coerce Kenzie into being the consultant, he’d host a party every month just to be able to see her.
“In theory, that’s how it works.” She laughed as a visual popped into her head of Tate and his friends sitting around with facials dripping off their stubbly chins. “Of course, the freebies depend on your total orders for the party.”
Before Tate could ask more questions, the call to board rang through the airport. Under the assumption it would take a while, Kenzie began to gather up her belongings to make a final trip to the restroom.
Tate put a hand on her arm, drawing her attention. “You can leave your stuff here. I’ll keep an eye on it,” he said, nodding his head toward the restroom door.
“Well, I…” Kenzie said, surprised by his offer. She didn’t know the man and shouldn’t trust him, even if he did seem nice.
“I promise not to run off with your stuff or touch anything.” Tate held his hand up as if he made a pledge. “Scout’s honor. Besides, I’d look ridiculous toting that bright pink bag. It clashes with my shirt.”
She’d tried not to notice how well his burgundy shirt fit across his broad shoulders and chest.
“Thank you,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”
“No need to hurry.” Tate glanced at the long line of people waiting to board.
When she returned a few minutes later, Tate stood at the back of the line, both his bag and hers over his shoulder, her suit jacket draped over his arm.
“I thought I better get in line since it’s finally starting to move.” He handed Kenzie her jacket.
“Thank you.” She took her bag from him and slid the strap over her shoulder. Hurriedly digging in a side pocket, she pulled out her boarding pass and checked to make sure everything was just as she left it. Tate seemed like a good guy, but trusting handsome cowboys had gotten her into trouble before.
“What have you got in tha
t thing? Rocks?” Tate teased as they stepped closer to the door.
“No, bricks.” Kenzie grinned over her shoulder at him as she handed her pass to the ticket agent.
Tate felt an unfamiliar twinge in the region of his heart as Kenzie took her boarding pass and walked out the door. Regardless of his extensive experience with the opposite sex, he’d never had anyone affect him like the beautiful brunette.
As he gave her a quick once-over, he admired the dark hair piled on her head, her long legs, and trim figure. Her stature intrigued him. He generally preferred smaller women, but in her heels, Kenzie nearly met his six-foot one-inch height.
A hint of something soft and floral tickled his nose while they walked onto the plane and waited to go down the aisle. He leaned closer and breathed in her scent, deciding he’d never smelled anything quite so inviting and feminine.
Out of habit, he tugged his hat more firmly on his head and studied the harried faces on the crowded plane. He hoped the flight would go quickly. It was vital he catch the connection to Nashville where he’d meet a friend to hitch a ride to his next rodeo.
He swallowed back a grin when he located his seat and Kenzie sat across the aisle from him. Suddenly, his day looked brighter. The connecting flight concerns shuffled to the back of his mind.
Instead of worrying, he had a few hours of uninterrupted time to get to know his lovely traveling companion.
After settling in to his assigned space, Tate noticed Kenzie leaning back in her seat, eyes closed, hands gripping the armrest with white knuckles.
He reached across the aisle and placed his hand on hers, watching her eyes pop open.
“We won’t crash, you know.” He attempted to coax her smile out of hiding.
“I know. I just hate takeoffs. I’m fine once we get in the air.” Kenzie offered Tate a tense glance. “It’s that awful feeling when your stomach is weightless that gets me every time.”
“That’s one of the best parts of flying.” He waggled an eyebrow her direction.
“It’s not surprising a daredevil like you would think so.” She squeezed her eyes shut when the plane roared down the runway and lifted into the air. As it gained altitude, she let out the breath she’d held and relaxed.
“How do you know what I do for a living?” Certain they hadn’t gotten around to discussing why he was going to Tennessee or his career, his brow wrinkled in question as he looked at her.
“I assumed you’re a daredevil by that gleam in your eye and the look on your face that says you love adventure.” Kenzie wasn’t willing to acknowledge she recognized Tate’s name and knew exactly what he did for a living. She refused to admit to anyone, least of all the handsome cowboy beside her, she had even a passing interest in anything to do with the pro rodeo circuit. That was classified information she’d take to her grave. “You appear to be someone who lives life on the edge.”
“I guess some people think I do. I ride saddle broncs as a profession. Well, at least I do when I’m not busy ranching.” Tate chuckled and shook his head derisively. “What I really should say is when I’m not gone to a rodeo, I stay busy on our family ranch.”
“Is that why you’re traveling to Tennessee?” Kenzie asked, trying to think what rodeo he’d entered. It had been a long time since she’d kept close tabs on the rodeo circuit.
“Yep. I’m meeting a friend in Nashville and then we’re off to the rodeo. We’re both competing tomorrow.” He removed his hat and placed it on his lap.
Kenzie admired his strong hands as he ran tanned fingers through his thick hair to loosen the band pressed into it from his hat. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of that head of light brown hair. Cut short, it was just long enough to have some finger-tempting waves, absolutely meant to torment women.
“Does your friend also ride saddle broncs?” Unsuccessfully, Kenzie tried to keep her gaze from entangling with his.
From experience gained in what seemed like a lifetime ago, she knew saddle bronc riders were artists, of a sort, as well as spectacular athletes. While bull riding and bareback riding were wilder, saddle bronc riding demanded style, grace, and precision.
“Nah, he’s a steer wrestler,” Tate said, grateful Cort McGraw agreed to swing by the airport and pick him up on his way through Nashville.
Thoughtfully observing him, Kenzie pulled a water bottle from her bag and took a drink. Once she screwed the cap back on, she turned to Tate. “You said when you aren’t out on the rodeo circuit, you ranch. Where do you live?”
“South of Kennewick.” The ranch his grandfather started back in the early 1900s and his father made successful through unwavering dedication and plain old hard work had always been his home. “If you head toward Umatilla and take the last exit before you cross into Oregon, we’re about ten miles off the beaten path on the Washington side of the border.”
“I’ve never driven around much in that area.” In the time she’d been in the Tri-Cities, Kenzie hadn’t done any exploring. She was rarely home long enough to do more than catch up on laundry and visit her one close friend.
“Are you originally from the Tri-Cities?” Tate asked, wondering where Kenzie grew up. She seemed like the very persona of a fashionable city girl, opposite of the type of girl he thought would someday fit into his lifestyle.
“No, my family lives in Portland.” Kenzie brushed imaginary lint from her skirt. She knew the next question Tate would ask and beat him to it. “I moved to Kennewick three years ago because I needed to get out of Portland. My best friend lives near Pendleton and encouraged me to move closer. I chose the Tri-Cities area because it works well with my job. I spend a lot of time traveling and being close to an airport is essential.”
“What made you want to leave Portland?” Tate stretched his legs beneath the seat in front of him. He hated flying, not because he was afraid of the plane crashing, but mostly because he felt cramped and uncomfortable the entire time. Whoever designed the seats must not have taken long legs and broad shoulders into account.
“Let’s just say the city wasn’t quite big enough to keep from running into my former fiancé and his very pregnant girlfriend.” A flash of anger fired in her eyes.
At Tate’s raised eyebrow, she shook her head. “It really was for the best. We were at the bakery, doing a cake tasting for our wedding, when a woman ran in and started screaming at Sonny, slapping his face. Apparently, she’d just found out she was pregnant. She demanded he tell me the truth, and he confessed he’d been seeing her on the side.”
“More than seeing her, I’d say.” Indignant on behalf of the woman he’d just met, he thought her ex-fiancé had to be a certified idiot to mess up a future with Kenzie. However, if the man hadn’t been an idiot, Tate wouldn’t be sitting across from her, enjoying their conversation and hoping he’d see her again.
“Anyway, I ran into them all the time. Since my job isn’t based in a specific area, it doesn’t really matter where I live. When Megan called and invited me to stay with her for a while, I decided to take her up on the offer. The drive from Helix to the airport in Pasco grew old in a hurry, so I rented an apartment in Kennewick.” Uneasy, she glanced at Tate. “Now you know more about me than you ever wanted to.”
“Hardly.” He wondered if her skin would feel as soft as it looked as he studied her strong cheekbones and creamy complexion. Popping his knuckles seemed the only way to keep from reaching across the aisle and indulging his curiosity by touching her cheek. When Kenzie cringed at the sound, he stopped and gripped the armrest. “Your friend Megan — is she, by any chance, Megan Montgomery?”
“Yes. Do you know her?” Kenzie’s voice carried a note of friendly interest.
“Yep. I know her husband, Owen. He purchases cattle from us and we’ve bought horses from them for years.” Tate was surprised he and Kenzie hadn’t run into each other before, since the Montgomery clan liked to entertain and often hosted barbecues and dinners. “Megan’s fed us more than a time or two.”
“Wow. I’ll
have to tell Megan I met you.” She made a mental note to call her friend later that evening. “When you say us and we, who else lives on the ranch with you?”
Tate laughed and the sound resonated somewhere deep and untouched inside Kenzie, drawing out her smile.
“It’s just me. Well, me and my foreman, Monte, and the ranch hands. My dad moved into an assisted living facility in Richland about a month ago, so I’m still getting used to rattling around the house by myself when I’m home.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is your father unwell?” Kenzie asked, wondering what type of ailment required Tate’s father to move into a care home.
“Nothing is wrong with Pop except old age. He turned ninety on his last birthday and finally agreed it was time for him to retire,” Tate said, chuckling. He loved to see the reaction on people’s faces when he told them his father’s age.
Determined to be a bachelor his whole life, Tate’s father, Kent, didn’t know what hit him when he met a beautiful young woman who turned his world upside down.
“I can see by the look on your face, you’re trying to do the math and coming up shy a few years,” Tate teased with a knowing grin. “I’m twenty-nine. Pop was nearly sixty when he married my mama. She was in her late twenties. Most folks thought it was quite a scandal for them to get married, but they loved each other. I don’t think Pop ever recovered from losing Mama. I was about eleven when she had kidney failure and died. We all thought she was in good health, but it seemed to hit her out of the blue. It’s been just me and Pop since. He’s done remarkably well for his age, but the winter was hard on him and he was ready to move off the ranch and into town once spring arrived. He’s in great shape, but I still worry about leaving him home alone. He agreed assisted living was a good option.”
“I’m sorry, Tate. I know how hard it is to lose a parent,” Kenzie said, not wanting to bare her soul to this stranger. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Nope, but I’ve got a bunch of friends who are as close as brothers and some cousins, however many times removed, who live a few hours away in Grass Valley.” He smiled as they made small talk the rest of the trip.
Wings of an Angel Page 15
