Holiday Heat: The Men of Starlight Bend Page 13

  “She’ll be here for a time,” Henry said knowingly.

  “Why’s that?” Stan asked.

  “Well, if her name is Kari Dale, she bought the hardware store last week. Her and another gal. Business partners.”

  Ty stared at his father, so confused he didn’t know where to start. He knew Kari? She’d bought the hardware store? He’d sold the hardware store that had been in their family for over two hundred years?

  “What—wait. You sold the store? To . . . Kari?”

  He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. The woman who’d breezed into town and his bed last night, had just . . . bought his unwanted legacy? How could that even have happened? She said she owned clothing stores . . . right?

  “But . . . when? How . . . why?” He looked into his father’s eyes, and saw every wrinkle formed from pain and loss. Without the store, Henry was . . . . “It was your life blood, Dad. I thought—”

  “What’d you think, son?” The word was almost a taunt. “That I’d give it to you?”

  “No, I thought you’d keep—”

  “For what? For who? A son who walks away when the going gets tough?”

  Ty’s ears rang. His cheeks flushed. Same old conversation. Same old anger. Same old dad, clinging to a false sense of betrayal. Ty was sick of it. But not sick enough to stop it. Not yet, anyway.

  His father stood, throwing down some money on the counter. “You didn’t care enough about it to make a difference when you could have. You got no place in it now.”

  Everyone was watching them. People he’d known most of his life. People who’d thought him selfish to have left when his family needed him. People who understood that he’d had to go. And mixed in, people like his dad who thought he shouldn’t have bothered to come back.

  A cold gust rushed into the taut silence as the front door opened. Ty saw it as a reprieve and looked away from his dad’s resentful face. Henry muttered something under his breath and showed himself to the door just as Kari walked in. Henry was too wrapped up in himself to notice. He didn’t even look up as he brushed past her, but everyone else took note of the woman stepping aside to get out of his way.

  Kari looked like something out of Hollywood with her silky fall of dark hair, her expensive coat and fancy boots. She had big eyes, earthy and colorful, framed by dark lashes and a creamy complexion. Her gaze skittered over the curious faces turned her way until it found his and stuck. Color washed over her cheeks and down the smooth line of her throat. For a moment, she looked like she might bolt.

  Again.

  “We don’t have any tables,” Chelsea, the teenager working the register, told Kari. “If you give a me a sec, I’ll clear that place at the counter.”

  Kari blinked at her, as if trying to understand the words. “Uh, no. I don’t want to . . . . May I have a cup of coffee to go, please? Biggest cup you have.”

  “Sure.”

  Ty felt like there was a stone lodged up high under his breastbone. He knew it for what it was—fury. He was angry with his father, for the messed up excuse of a relationship they had. But some of that anger belonged to this woman, who’d fled his house in the dark without even a goodbye. Who’d bought Timberlake Hardware—why, Ty couldn’t begin to fathom. Who stood there looking so damn pretty that even now he wanted to sweep her off her feet and make them both forget why he was mad.

  Deliberately, he stood. Kari saw him moving toward her and her eyes went wider and rounder, her flush darkened. He could smell her perfume as he drew near and a rush of memory nearly did him in.

  “Good morning,” he said to Kari, like he wasn’t coming undone.

  “Good morning,” she said softly.

  Her gaze found his again. She looked like she wanted to say something. A part of him wanted to hear it, but a part of him had just been tipped over a very steep ledge. He didn’t want to hear anything else. Not from her, not from his dad, not from anyone.

  Making the decision for them both, he reached past Kari and handed Chelsea a ten. “I had a coffee. I’ll buy hers, too.”

  “You don’t—” Kari began.

  Ty cut her off with a look. “I know. It’s just how we do things here.”

  She blushed again and looked down. And even though it made no sense at all, Ty felt like an ass.

  Coffee was cheap at Becky’s. Chelsea rang him up and handed him a five in change. He stuffed it in her tip jar and said, “Make good choices today.”

  Behind him Kari sucked in a breath.

  And then he was gone, out into the fresh air, thinking that yesterday his biggest concern had been grading crappy papers. Overnight, everything had changed and now it felt like his world had been turned upside down.

  Chapter Four

  Numb, Kari watched Ty leave the café. He’d been angry—she could see it. She didn’t even blame him for being mad at her. She was mad at herself. But there’d been something else in his eyes, something that told her his anger hadn’t been solely directed at her.

  “Here you go,” the cute teenager behind the cash register interrupted Kari’s thoughts, holding out a large cup of coffee that Kari knew wouldn’t be anywhere near big enough.

  Only when she was back in her car, sealed inside and all alone, did she let loose the string of curse words that had been lodged in her throat since Ty’s eyes had met hers across the café.

  She finished her creative litany with a dependable, “Damn it,” shouted at her steering wheel. That wasn’t enough though. She thunked her head against it a couple of times, too.

  She’d been second guessing herself since she’d tiptoed out of Ty’s bedroom last night and dressed in the kitchen—in the dark, boots in her hand and her bra stuffed in her purse, like some hoochie mama on TV.

  But reality had forced its way into her bliss as she laid beside Ty, listening to his even breathing, snuggled to the warmth of his hard body. Making love with him had literally blown her mind. She’d never been with a man who took his time, who gave so much. Even in sleep, he surrounded her with his body and made her feel safe and protected.

  That’s what had set her off. That comfortable, secure, settled feeling.

  Kari had been on her own since she was eighteen. She answered to no one and she relied only on herself. She had things to do, places to be, and no room in her life for a man, especially one as all-consuming as Ty Timberlake.

  So she’d run. Cowardly, yes. But very effective.

  Only now that voice in her head wouldn’t shut up about it. About how amazing it had felt to cut loose, to be nothing more than a woman having a good time with an attractive man. A very attractive man. That voice kept nagging, telling her she’d run from something that might have been good if she’d given it a chance.

  “Why didn’t you say something to him?” she said aloud, meeting her own gaze in the rearview mirror. Instead, she’d just stood there in the café like an idiot, staring at him and not saying a damn thing. He either thought she was a lunatic or a bitch. Probably both.

  She thunked her head on the steering wheel again, but it didn’t change anything. It certainly didn’t make it better. Finally, she started her car. She had a lot to do today. Everyday. She didn’t have time for regrets.

  Yet she couldn’t stop feeling them either.

  Sighing, she mapped the address of her rental on her cell phone, took a quick drink of coffee, closing her eyes when the delicious brew hit her taste buds and warmed her belly, then she put the car into drive and headed home.

  The small house—cabin, really—had come furnished, sorta. The couch was relatively new, if ugly as hell, and the kitchen was stocked with pots, pans and dishes. A small dinette provided a place to eat, though usually she ate in front of the television, watching HGTV with a glass of wine and her laptop.

  She’d done this small town thing enough times to know what to expect in a rental. The day she’d signed the lease, she’d arranged for a satellite dish, wireless Internet, two new fire extinguishers, a new bed, and a professional cleane
r.

  Before unpacking, she tucked one of the extinguishers under the kitchen sink, the other in the bedroom. Next, she hung her calendar on the kitchen wall where she could see it first thing in the morning. The days between now and her eminent departure on January eighth were numbered in a countdown. Seventy-two days to go.

  On day seventy-three, Kari would start visiting potential locations for their next store. Usually, she looked forward to that. But Starlight Bend marked the fifth store in as many years and she was tired. Only her faith in the business plan that she and her partner, Simone, had meticulously created, kept her going.

  But the wild night in the bar on a lake with a man she couldn’t stop thinking about had filled her head with thoughts of a different kind of life. One that came with a slower pace. Less work, more laughter. She’d never achieve her goals that way, though. And goals were important. She hadn’t busted her ass for the past five years only to quit when she was almost there. Especially not for a man.

  The stern talking-to sustained her for the rest of the day. But when she finally went to sleep that night, Ty was back in her thoughts. Sadly, though, not in her bed.

  Chapter Five

  As they had in every other town, Kari and Simone had purchased the struggling, local hardware store. Home Depot and Lowes had put most of them out of business already, so they came cheap and were surprisingly easy to find. More than that, hardware went with their brand of men’s clothing: HardWear. They’d discovered by accident that coupling the old brick and mortar hardware stores with the trendy style of their clothing line created a cool vibe that customers responded to. After that, they’d made the stores part of their branding.

  But this time, it was Timberlake’s Hardware Store. Timberlake’s. As in Ty Timberlake? Or was it a common name in this part of the country? Henry Timberlake had signed the escrow papers, but now she had to wonder if maybe Henry was the dad Ty had come home to connect with. What were the odds of that being the case? Did it matter? She’d killed the spark that had glowed between them when she’d run away.

  Why did you do that, Kari?

  The gong of the cowbell that hung over the hardware store’s door saved her from having to answer herself. She must have forgotten to lock it after Simone, her business partner, had left. Thinking Simone had returned for something, she looked up from where she knelt on the floor, the torso of a mannequin between her spread thighs as she tried to slide a pair of skinny jeans over its plastic hips. She’d worked up a sweat and the gust of cold, damp air that rushed in felt good against her skin. She couldn’t see over the racks, so she looked under and caught sight of blue jeans that ended in a pair of scuffed boots.

  She knew those boots. She’d helped their owner out of them not so long ago.

  A second later, long, lean, Ty Timberlake came around the racks and spotted her on the floor. His gaze moved between the half-naked mannequin and her flushed face. He almost smiled.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  “Uh,” she said, scrambling to her feet. It was all she could manage. The sight of him had literally made her breathless. He was even more attractive than she’d remembered. How was that possible?

  The day had been filled with manual labor and Kari was sweaty, dirty, and probably smelled. So yeah, perfect time for him to show up.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Looking for you.”

  “Why?

  She’d meant, Why, when I was such an idiot to leave your bed in the dead of night? But the rest of it caught in her throat.

  In the days since she’d last seen him, she’d accepted the dismal fact that nothing more would ever happen between them. She’d even managed to talk herself into thinking it was a good thing. Moving on. Tracks. Travel light, no baggage. All the usual reasons she used to keep her distance.

  But now that he was here, she could only think of his kisses, his teasing smile, that crisp scent that had tantalized her until she finally had him naked and her nose against his skin.

  “The store looks good,” he said casually, but his gaze never left her face, watching her reactions, making her feel like he knew what she was thinking. She remembered that, too. He’d seemed so tuned into her, so in synch with her thoughts. “I like the new floors. The walls are a nice color, too.”

  A hired crew had been out earlier that week to paint and replace the yellowed, peeling linoleum with laminate flooring in a cool ash gray.

  “The paint’s the original shade,” she said, like it mattered. Like anything mattered but the fast rhythm of her heartbeat and the fact that he was here. Here for her, he’d said. “It still smells like fertilizer, though.”

  “Always has.”

  He’d had that same note in his voice when he’d spoken of his father that night in the bar. Not so much sad as it was resigned, stoic.

  “I didn’t know that I’d bought your father’s store,” she blurted. “When we met, I didn’t know. I mean, I wasn’t even sure until just now.”

  He nodded. “After I calmed down a bit, I figured that out. For the record, I didn’t know he’d even sold it. Not until he told me the other morning at the café.”

  She remembered Ty’s anger and the inexplicable certainty that it wasn’t just for her. “But hasn’t this store been in your family for a long time?”

  Ty shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded again. “My great-great-granddad and his brother opened it back in the days of the gold rush. Made their fortune selling bullets and axes to miners.”

  “Bullets and axes?” she said surprised. “Not shovels and picks?”

  “Those, too. But it was the bullets that made their fortune.”

  They’d kept a few bits of the original decorations—a tin sign for chewing tobacco, a giant ax, an old cash register, and a framed box of bullets. She’d wondered about the bullets. Now it made sense.

  “Are you upset with him, for selling?” she asked carefully.

  He gave her another half-smile. “I haven’t decided. As he’s quick to point out, I never had much interest in this store. But it’s part of my heritage. A bigger part of his. I’m not sure what motivated him to get rid of it. Spite, maybe. But that always backfires.”

  She listened solemnly. Obviously, his plan to connect with his father wasn’t going well. She wanted to give him a hug. A few nights ago, it would have been easy.

  He studied her for a moment, but she had no idea what he might be thinking. She hoped he was feeling the same way about her.

  Finally, he asked, “Why Timberlake’s? Why not the abandoned fabric store on the corner? Or the old bank building down the street. That one has more room.”

  “We always choose a hardware store,” she answered. “Our brand name is HardWear—W-e-a-r. Rugged, but stylish fashion.”

  “Huh,” he said, less than impressed.

  There’d been a whole lot of unbelievers along the way, but it stung that he was among them.

  He turned and wandered a few steps into the store, pensively perusing his family legacy, now stripped down and reengineered into something completely different. He came to a stop in front of the original Timberlake Hardware sign, which Kari had been thrilled to save, even though the lights in the E flickered sometimes. They’d hung it on the wall behind the old cash register.

  “That started shorting out about twenty years ago. Dad never could find what makes it blink. It drove him nuts.” Silently, he stared at the sign, his expression giving little away.

  Kari waited, filled with uncertainty. He said he’d come looking for her, but she still didn’t know why. All the things that had been left unsaid between them seemed to fill the room, creating invisible barriers that could trip her up at any moment.

  “What’s that on the phone?” he asked, eyeing the flashing light clipped to its side.

  It was one of her father’s inventions. An alarm that—in theory—worked with the smoke detectors to provide an early fire alert.

  “A gadget my dad came up with. It
probably doesn’t even work.”

  Ty nodded, saying nothing. But just as he had at the bar, he seemed tuned-in to her feelings. Ty Timberlake was a man who paid attention.

  Kari turned away before he saw too much and Ty went back to studying the sign.

  “I’m not really good at this kind of thing,” he said at last. His back was turned to her and she wasn’t sure what they were talking about anymore.

  “What kind of thing is that?” she asked.

  “Hooking up with a woman I’ve just met. Waking up and finding her gone in the morning.”

  Oh. That.

  “I understand, sometimes bailing is the best option,” he went on, still not facing her. “And you did warn me that you don’t like staying in one place. But I don’t know what comes next, Kari. Do we pretend it didn’t happen?”

  No, she didn’t say.

  “Or figure out to how make it happen again?”

  Finally, he turned and caught Kari in that quicksilver gaze that saw everything. Like the flash of excitement she was sure had flared in her eyes at the thought of again, or the worry that again would only lead to disaster. Because truly, that was the root of the problem, wasn’t it? Ty had been captivated by the woman he’d met in that bar. But she wasn’t real. She’d been make-believe, something Kari wished she could be. The real Kari was here now, though. The one that worked eighteen hours a day, trying to make a mark in a world where everyone else seemed to be brighter and better equipped.

  “What do you think we should do?” she heard herself ask.

  The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile. “I think we should go to dinner.”

  The last time he’d invited her to dinner, she’d thrown herself in his arms and hadn’t let go until he took her to his bed. Just thinking about it made her feel hot and jittery. But not just that. It scared her. Even when she’d been pretend-Kari, the woman who only cared about having fun, she’d been scared. Ty saw too much. And as twisted and wrong as it was, she liked that he thought of her as that carefree person who drank whiskey and laughed freely and flirted outrageously in dark bars. She didn’t want him to know the real Kari. He wouldn’t have come looking for her.