Her Unexpected Detour (Checkerberry Inn) Read online

  Brent held his breath. It was the tow truck driver. Had to be. Soon Kayla would be gone, and life at the Checkerberry could get back to normal.

  “This is Kayla. Yes, that was my brother. Really? Oh. Wow. Yes, I understand.”

  Disappointment rang clear in her words. Damn towing company was probably giving her the runaround. The freezing rain had changed back to a regular drizzle about half an hour ago, which would clear the roads of ice soon enough. She needed to get going before it got dark and the cooler overnight temperatures froze everything all over again. And before any of the fools here offered to let her stay.

  Because she definitely couldn’t stay. Oh, no. It was all he could do to resist her now—no way he’d be able to stick around if she stayed overnight. Nor did he trust his cousin to stay, either. Not with the way Miles was eyeing Kayla as though he were a drunk and she was a bottle of perfectly aged whiskey.

  “Well, can you at least give me some kind of idea when it might be?” Kayla asked into the phone. “Yes, I-I understand. I’ll wait to hear from you, then. Good-bye.”

  “Tow truck running behind?” asked Miles.

  Brent attacked the paint on his arms with new vigor. The sincerity in Miles’s voice was a trademark move. Nine times out of ten, it worked. Usually what happened between his cousin and the general female population was of little interest to Brent. So why was he so bothered by it now? What made Kayla any different than the rest?

  To that question, he had no answer. Only that she was different, because he’d noticed her. And it’d been a long time since anyone worth noticing had walked into his life. God, he had to get her out of here before he did something stupid. Like take her to bed and ravish her. All. Night. Long. He turned the water to cold, splashed some onto his face hoping the shock would clear his head, then reached for a towel.

  “Yeah. Really late. As in, they’re swamped and can’t get here until tomorrow.”

  Brent spun around. “Tomorrow?”

  Kayla met his gaze. She looked so disappointed, so vulnerable. The urge to cross the room and comfort her washed over him.

  Comfort her?

  Shit.

  He dabbed at his face with the towel. Tried to appear cool, calm. “Well then, we should get you into town. Find you a place at the Red Roof Inn or the Courtyard, before they get swamped with a bunch of other stranded drivers.”

  Kayla flinched. It was a subtle movement, so subtle the others may not have even noticed. But he had. He was far too in tune with her movements, her nonverbal cues. He hated to treat her this way, but she’d thank him for pushing her away later.

  “But, I really can’t—”

  “And what is the Checkerberry?” Ruby planted both hands on her hips. “Chopped liver?”

  “Of course not. It’s just that we’re not technically open”—and she’s sure to be the end of me—“and I assumed you wouldn’t want to—”

  “Well, you assumed wrong.” Ruby shot him a dark look, then turned and offered Kayla a gentle smile. “I’m very sorry to hear about the delay, dear. I know you were eager to return home yet tonight. But you are more than welcome to stay here until the tow truck arrives.”

  Kayla hesitated, and Brent felt a glimmer of hope that she might actually turn down Ruby’s offer. But then his grandmother played dirty. She took Kayla’s hand in hers and gave their visitor the “poor old innkeeper” eyes.

  No one could resist those, not even him.

  “Please won’t you stay? It’s so lonely in the off-season, and I’d love to have some female company. And you really can’t beat free, now can you?”

  “Are you sure I wouldn’t be imposing on you?”

  Why had Kayla looked directly at him when she said that?

  “Heavens, no. Why, if you stay, I’ll see that you’re treated like royalty. When was the last time you felt like that?”

  “Royalty?” Kayla laughed. “Hmm, let me think. That’d be, oh, never.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Ruby said. She rambled on about possible dinner selections and things to do during Kayla’s stay. Soon everyone was smiling and carrying on.

  Everyone, that is, except Brent.

  Chapter Six

  Treated like royalty…

  Kayla smiled at the thought as she stretched beneath the covers of her suite’s incredibly comfortable queen-sized bed. The pre-dinner nap had done her a world of good, and she woke feeling both rested and relaxed. Like a queen, she thought with a giggle as she eyed the mountain of motley pillows she’d pushed aside to find the top edge of the comforter. Ruby was right—travelers had lowered their standards.

  One afternoon at the inn and hotel life for Kayla had been ruined. Not that she traveled all that much, anyway. No time to, when she spent most of her waking hours working, either at the office or her father’s place. Or thinking about work. Or thinking about thinking about work.

  You need to get a life, whispered a voice in the back of her mind. Lying there, snug as a bug beneath luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets, Kayla stared up at the ceiling and pondered that thought. A life? Outside of work? One that actually involved other human beings, not just her laptop and cell phone?

  Ah, but that might lead to her getting emotionally attached to someone. With a sigh, she pushed the covers back and crawled out of bed. Kayla didn’t want to get attached, didn’t want to rely on anyone ever again. Though that’d be a tough decision to stick to if she lived around here, what with Ruby’s two grandsons being ridiculously gorgeous and all. Was it something in the water or just a stellar gene pool?

  No matter, she’d be gone soon enough.

  Kayla crossed the room to her freshly washed and dried clothes and dressed in all but her long-discarded panty hose. Nope, those puppies were unsalvageable. Good riddance, she thought with a grin as she headed into the bathroom to finish getting ready before going down to dinner.

  No flatiron meant nothing to straighten her unruly natural waves, so she settled for pulling her hair up in a twist and locking it into place with the emergency clip she kept in her purse. A few tendrils of hair refused to be confined, but without extra pins or hairspray, she let them be. She touched up her makeup, then checked her reflection in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs.

  It wasn’t her best look, but it’d have to do. After the wet rat look she’d sported earlier, anything at this point had to be an improvement, right? Not that she cared what the others thought of her. Much.

  “Did you enjoy your nap, dear?” Ruby asked as she walked Kayla to a round-topped table in the dining room’s center. She wore her hair up as well, and had changed into a long chambray skirt and thick cable-knit sweater.

  “Oh, yes. That bed is amazing. I’d come back to visit just for that,” Kayla said with a laugh. She caught sight of Miles then, entering the dining room as well. Apparently dinnertime at the Checkerberry was taken seriously, as he had also changed his attire. Gone were his designer jeans and burgundy Henley, replaced with navy slacks and a crisp button-down shirt. His all-too-appealing smile, however, remained.

  With a cough, she ceased her giggling and pulled a chair out from the table.

  “Please,” he said, stepping around her and grasping the chair’s back. “Allow me.”

  “See?” Ruby said with a wink. “Like royalty.”

  “Uh-huh. And do all your guests get treated with such courtesy?”

  “Of course,” Ruby said, then started for the kitchen once more, mumbling about dinner rolls as she walked.

  “Nah, only the pretty ones,” Miles whispered as he pushed her chair forward.

  Kayla felt her cheeks warm. Miles was charming, she’d give him that. And easy on the eyes. Very easy. But her mind kept wandering back to his cousin, her roadside hero. Which was silly. Brent clearly had no interest in her. Miles, on the other hand…

  She grinned. Maybe a little harmless flirting with him would help push Brent from her mind.

  “Wine?” Miles asked, stepping back.


  “Sure. Something sweet?”

  “I would have guessed as much,” he said with a grin. “Let me see what Ruby’s got over here.” He crossed the room and bent to assess some hidden collection stored behind a small, six-seater bar top. “Hmm, looks like she’s got Chardonnay, white Zinfandel, and—”

  “White Zinfandel is fine, thanks.”

  As he worked the corkscrew, Ruby burst through the kitchen doors with a basket of steaming rolls.

  “Oh, thank you, Miles. I meant to get that out earlier.” She set the basket on their table and then looked around with a scowl. “Where is your cousin?”

  “I don’t think he was planning on joining us.” Miles crossed the room with the open bottle of wine. “Something about not having a change of clothes.”

  Kayla reached for the glass of ice water nearest her place setting. No Brent meant no scowling. Still, she felt an unexpected pang of disappointment.

  “He is not going to talk his way out of this,” Ruby growled. “I don’t care if he has to sit here naked, that boy is going to eat.”

  Naked? Kayla’s drink of water went down the wrong pipe. Ruby patted her back until the coughing fit subsided, then marched from the room.

  “You gonna live?” Miles handed her a glass of wine and reached to refill her water.

  “Maybe.” She downed the drink as if it were water, trying to drown out the image Ruby’s comment had summoned—Brent strutting into the room wearing nothing but his birthday suit. When she spoke again, her voice was rough from the wine…and that image. “Thanks. I, um, love white Zin.”

  “I can see that,” Miles said with a chuckle.

  Wine glass in hand he took the seat across from her. Kayla smiled at him to prove she would survive and reached for a roll. When it came to drinking, she’d always been a lightweight. The last thing she wanted to do was get drunk before the main course arrived—Lord only knew what might come out of her mouth if that happened.

  “Where did you say you were from again?” he asked.

  “Fort Wayne. It’s a few hours south of here.”

  “And you’re here on business?”

  More like avoiding it… “No, I came to visit my—”

  Ruby shuffled back into the room, muttering something under her breath. When she saw Miles and Kayla looking at her, she offered them a quick smile. “Sorry for the delay, dinner will be ready momentarily. I just hate to start without everyone.”

  “You’re wasting your time, Grandma,” Miles said casually. “Brent’s stubborn as—”

  “A mule?” Brent finished, appearing in the doorway.

  Kayla froze, a small piece of roll raised halfway to her mouth. The standoffish handyman still wore his familiar scowl, and the same paint-splattered jeans, faded in all the right places from wear, but he’d pulled an expensive-looking, black V-neck sweater on over his T-shirt. A sweater he filled out quite nicely.

  Too nicely, in fact.

  Kayla traded her dinner roll for the wine glass and took a good, long drink.

  Brent leveled a look at his cousin. “Better to be as stubborn as a mule than to actually be one, Miles. You, of all people, should know that.”

  He made his way to their table and took the empty seat to Kayla’s left, careful not to meet her gaze. Those blue eyes of hers had a way of breaking through his defenses. Unfortunately, Ruby had threatened to drag him to dinner by his ear if he didn’t join them. And she’d dragged him around by his ear enough times in his youth for him to know how damned much that hurt.

  Though now that he was here, he wondered which would have truly been more painful: the ear pulling, or sitting beside a beautiful siren all through dinner. She was back in her corporate clothes, that purple blouse unbuttoned just far enough to be respectable but still managing to tease and the hip-hugging skirt that begged to be pushed up and out of the way. And now, as if to torture him further, she’d gone and pulled her hair up, leaving her perfect neck exposed, save for a few delicate stray curls. A neck waiting to be explored, along with every inch of the rest of her.

  “Ah, I see Ruby found you something to wear after all,” Miles said, with a smirk. “So nice of you to join us, by the way.”

  “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you had that sweater handy. Ruby threatened to make you sit here in the nude.”

  The roll in Kayla’s hand dropped to her plate. Her cheeks flushed scarlet. “Speaking of Ruby, maybe I should go and see if she needs help.”

  “No!” he and Miles answered in unison. They exchanged a quick look, silently posturing to see who should be the one to leave Kayla to go and help their grandmother. When Brent didn’t budge, Miles’s brows rose. As a grin stretched across his cousin’s face, Brent knew he’d be hearing about this later.

  Miles pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “I’ll go. She’d kill us if we let you lift a finger.”

  He headed for the kitchen with a wink, and an awkward silence ensued. Brent could have kicked himself. Why hadn’t he volunteered? Miles was the Masterson who could keep conversations rolling, not him.

  Brent reached for his water glass and took a drink, then cast another look at the kitchen door. Any minute now the rest of his family would reappear with dinner in hand. Any. Minute. Now.

  “Roll?”

  He looked up in surprise and was instantly trapped in the snare of those unassuming blue eyes.

  “Sure,” he said, forcing his gaze from hers to the basket of rolls in her extended hand. “Thank you.”

  Kayla took another roll herself and set the basket on the table. The silence resumed, though twice she looked as though she wanted to say something, then chose not to. Brent knew he should speak up, but couldn’t think of anything to say. When it came to social graces, Miles definitely had him beat hands down.

  And where the hell had he and Ruby gone, anyway?

  “So, how did your painting go?”

  “Hmm?” His gaze cut away from the door again and back to hers. “Oh, good. Got a bedroom done and a bathroom primed. May even be able to get a first coat on it yet tonight.”

  “Nice. Did you have a lot of cutting in to do, or mostly rolling?”

  Spoken like a painting veteran, Brent thought with a grin. Maybe she wasn’t a helpless princess after all.

  “Lots of cutting in. Which in and of itself isn’t so bad. It’s trying to wedge a stepladder in around a tub and toilet that I hate.”

  “I hear you,” she said. “I painted my brother’s bathroom last fall and nearly broke my neck trying to reach over the shower walls.”

  “Why were you painting your brother’s bathroom?”

  Kayla scowled. “I lost a bet. Said Central Michigan couldn’t beat U of M. Darn Wolverines.”

  Brent chuckled. “You’re a Michigan fan?”

  “Oh, no, I’m an IU grad. Well, IPFW, actually, but my degree says Indiana University. I just figured a school from the Big Ten Conference could handle Central Michigan. Guess I was wrong.”

  “Yeah, U of M has had a few tough years.” Brent began to find those blue eyes a little less intimidating. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the table. “So, your brother lives up here and you live where again?”

  “Fort Wayne, Indiana.”

  “I’ve been there before. Helped move a buddy from college down there a few years back. And your folks? Where do they live?”

  Kayla’s smile faltered as her gaze shifted to the tabletop. “My dad lives not too far from me.”

  Shit. He’d gone and upset her. This was why he let Miles do the talking.

  As if on cue, his cousin reentered the room followed closely by Ruby, each carrying steaming casserole dishes. Between the mouth-watering aroma of Ruby’s chicken marmalade and the light banter between her and Miles, the mood in the room quickly returned to its lighthearted state.

  Brent remained quiet for most of the meal, choosing instead to sit back and observe her interactions with his f
amily. He’d been wrong about her at the diner. Kayla was a vibrant, sweet, funny young woman. But something in her past was haunting her—that flash of hurt in her eyes at the mention of her parents hadn’t been lost on him.

  Hurt was an emotional state he knew all too well, and one Brent made a silent promise not to inflict on her again.

  Once the others rejoined their table, Kayla allowed herself to relax. To let go.

  To forget.

  Her social life back home was limited, her friendships guarded and minimal. It was easier that way. Safer. But here, among strangers, she felt liberated to let her guard down. To be silly and engaged, absorbed and entertained. To just…be. Those around her had done the same, sharing stories and listening to her own. The mood stayed light, and though Brent remained reserved throughout their meal, even he was smiling by the time dessert rolled around. A smile, Kayla couldn’t help but notice, made him all the more handsome.

  But after the chocolate torte and decaf coffee had been consumed, she was saddened to see fatigue overshadow her companions’ faces. Kayla didn’t want the evening to end. Didn’t want to go back to her room, to reality. She hadn’t felt this free in years.

  “Please let me help with the dishes, Ruby.”

  Her hostess swatted Kayla’s hand from her empty plate. “Absolutely not. My guests don’t lift a finger. Like royalty, remember?”

  With a grin, Brent met Kayla’s gaze. And as they’d done so time and time again throughout dinner, his stormy gray eyes took her breath away. Clearly he was oblivious to the power those eyes could wield, unlike his equally handsome cousin. Miles was funny and charming and knew it, too. Some women found that kind of self-confidence appealing, but guys like that weren’t really Kayla’s type.

  Though it’d been so long since she’d put herself out there she wasn’t sure if she even knew what her type was anymore. All she’d cozied up to in recent months was her laptop, the universal remote, and Big Red—which she was doing her best not to think about right now, trapped by Brent’s stare.

  Breathe, she reminded herself. And blink. Blinking would be good.