Yours to Hold: Ribbon Ridge Book Two (7 page)

“Not a vegetarian, despite my mother’s best efforts. She’s full vegan, of course.” Maggie sipped her wine. “Oh, this is really good.”

They discussed the menu for another minute before Maggie noticed a couple across the room glancing over at Kyle and then talking, as if they were discussing him. “Do you know those people over there?” she asked.

He turned his head briefly. “No. Should I?”

“They keep looking over here at you, like they know you.”

His lips spread in a lazy smile. “That happens sometimes. I used to be on a TV show.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s right. What was it called again,
Seven Is Enough
?”

“That’s it.” He leaned forward, his blue-green eyes spearing her with a humorously intense gaze. “Quick, how old were we when it ran?”

She knew he was kidding, so she played along. “Ten, twelve?”

He looked to the side. “You don’t know?” He laughed. “That’s about right.”

“I admit I didn’t watch it very much. Mom didn’t allow us a lot of television.” Which had totally sucked when all of her friends were glued to
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
and she’d had to wait to watch it at Dad’s, provided he remembered to record it for her.

“I’m sure we have copies of it, if you’d like to educate yourself.”

She took another sip of wine. “How’d you guys end up on TV anyway?”

“A friend of my parents. His uncle was a producer, I think, and they were looking for a ‘feel-good’ show.”

“That was before reality shows were really big.”

“Yeah, and I think we were actually ahead of the trend. The idea sort of came from MTV’s
The Real World
and early reality shows like that. But people weren’t as into feeding off of others’ drama back then.”

She chuckled, thinking of the volume and variety of reality shows available now and how ridiculous most of them were. Dance moms and duck hunters. Crazy. “True. It sounds like maybe you didn’t like it?”

“Actually, I loved it. My siblings, not so much. Tori didn’t mind it, but Liam hated it, and Sara and Evan just sort of clung to the background. Hayden didn’t love it either, but that’s because he was the ‘oops’ kid and consequently not one of the focal points of the show.” She noticed he didn’t mention Alex but didn’t want to question him about it. Alex hadn’t talked to her about the show very much, but she had the sense that he’d enjoyed it.

Instead, she thought back to the few episodes that she’d seen and recalled that Kyle, Tori, and Liam had seemed to be the stars, with the emphasis on Kyle, who she remembered as funny. “You were the ham.”

He cracked a half smile. “Totally. I’ll admit it, I loved the spotlight. I cried when they canceled it.”

She felt a tinge of remorse for him. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard, given how young you were.”

“I guess. But because we were young, we bounced back.” He took a drink of wine.

The couple was still sneaking glances at Kyle. “And you still have your celebrity,” she said, thinking that her assessment of his Hollywood looks was dead accurate and she hadn’t even realized it.

Whitney brought the dip and took their dinner order. Maggie decided on the scallops and Kyle got the duck, both on the condition that they would share bites. This was feeling more and more like a date. She needed to remember that it wasn’t. “Do you want to show me the laptop now?”

He looked a little surprised. “Before dinner? Okay, sure. But first, you have to try the orgasm-inducing dip.”

Picking up a chip, she swiped it into the thick, creamy dip and took a taste. “Oh. My. God. You weren’t kidding.”

His gaze was fixed on her mouth, heightening the pull she felt toward him. “Delicious, right?”

She had the discomfiting—and arousing—sense that he wasn’t talking about the dip. Or maybe that was her prudish imagination. Ha, as if. The images that were pinging around in her mind at present were anything but sedate. She tried not to think of his muscular thighs or his long chef’s fingers or the breadth of his shoulders. And she sure as hell tried not to think of how much she liked him, despite wanting to keep her distance. Oh crap, this not-date was not going the way it should. “The laptop?” she reminded him.

“Right.” He pulled it from the sleeve and opened it. He ran his finger over the track pad and turned it so they could both view the screen. He’d pulled the contacts up. The
A
s stared back at her. Most of them were Archers. “Can you just scroll through and see if any names jump out at you?” he asked.

“Sure.” She helped herself to another chip and the fabulous dip, then wiped her fingertips on her napkin before turning to the computer. She scrolled down through the
B
s, the
C
s, and onward. Nothing looked familiar. Her gaze landed on a phone number at the end of the
G
s that looked like her brother’s but wasn’t.

Kyle must’ve noticed she’d paused. “What is it?” His tone carried a hint of excitement.

She shot him an apologetic glance, hating disappointing him. “Nothing. Just a number that looked familiar, but it’s not.”

He stared at the screen, his hand frozen halfway to his mouth with a chip. “Shit.”

“What?” she asked, her neck prickling for some reason.

“You’re looking at the numbers as well as the names. God, I’m so stupid.” He set the chip on his plate and clicked on the name: Dane Hawkins.

Maggie dipped another chip. “Why are you stupid? Did you miss that person before?”

“Yes, but I know him. As Shane Dawkins—I recognize the number now. I hadn’t been looking at numbers before, just names.” He sent her a grateful glance. “See, I knew you’d be helpful.”

A flush of pride washed over her as she swallowed the chip. “You’re welcome. Who is he?”

His mouth formed a grim line, and his dazzling blue-green eyes dimmed. “My bookie.”

Chapter Four

“Y
OUR BOOKIE
?” S
HE
stared at him a long moment. “You gamble?”

“Not if I can help it. I’m an addict.” He couldn’t believe he was telling her this, exposing his most closely held secret. He’d never discussed the depths of his problem with his family, with Derek, or with any of the friends he’d made in Florida. So why her?

She twirled her wine glass. “Wow. So . . . you’re surprised that Alex had this guy’s number?”

“Yeah, particularly since he went to the trouble of disguising his name. That seems to scream concealment.”

“It does,” she said slowly. “You think this guy—Shane—had something to do with the drugs?”

Kyle couldn’t think of any other reason that Alex would have his number. God, if Shane was somehow involved . . . Kyle’s shoulders bunched, and anger curled through him.

She reached out and touched his hand near the laptop. The light contact of her fingers rocked through him, tossing his already overworked senses into overdrive. “Just take a breath.” Her voice caressed him, but instead of relaxing, his body coiled with frustration. “Kyle, breathe. Maybe Alex just wanted to place a bet.”

Kyle blew out a breath. “Maybe.” He still had to have gotten the number from Kyle, but shit, how in the world had that happened? He thought back to four years ago. “I don’t know how Alex would’ve gotten Shane’s number.”

“Okay, we’ll work on that. Do you want me to keep looking through the numbers?”

Kyle shook himself, but the sick feeling in his gut persisted. If Shane had provided the drugs and Kyle had somehow led Alex to him . . . God, how would he rebound from that? He’d made a shit-ton of mistakes and was trying to do better, but if he’d brought opportunity to Alex’s door . . . with a shaking hand, he took a long drink of wine.

“Kyle, are you still with me?” Maggie’s soothing voiced pulled him back to the here and now. “Talk to me.”

Hopelessness choked him. “I don’t know what to say. What if this is my fault?”

“It’s not. No matter what. Your brother killed himself—you are not responsible, no one is.”

The passion in her tone grounded him, gave him something to cling to. “That includes you, right?”

“That includes me.” Her dark gaze bored into his. “And believe me, there are days when I still have to convince myself of that fact.”

“Yeah, I bet.” He winced. “Poor choice of words.”

She laughed, further calming him. “I think you did that on purpose. I’m beginning to understand that you like things to be easy and fun. That makes life more palatable for you, especially now, doesn’t it?”

He thought about that for a minute. “If you’re asking me whether I avoid tough situations, the answer is sometimes. I just think life’s short—now more than ever.”

“Sure, I get that. But a gambling addiction is pretty heavy. If I were you, I think I’d want people to look at anything but me, lest they see things I don’t want them to.”

Hell
, she was headshrinking him. He wanted to hate that, but damn it, he didn’t. “You’re therapizing me, Dr. Trent.”

She arched a brow at him. “That’s not a word.”

“But you know exactly what I mean,” he challenged.

“I do. And yes.” Her gaze turned sheepish. “Sorry, it’s what I do. Even before I was a therapist, I tried to solve people’s problems. I had a teacher once who called me a busybody.”

He suddenly remembered how he’d come to be here with her in the first place. She’d treated his brother. Unsuccessfully. But was that really her fault? No, like she’d said, it wasn’t. Any lingering anger or resentment he felt toward her began to dissipate.

Whitney brought their entrees, and for a few minutes, they dug into their food.

“These scallops are amazing.”

Kyle checked out her plate. “Great sear.” Andy was a good chef. Seeing his friend’s work gave him an itch. He cooked at home, had done some restaurant work in Florida the past few years, but nothing permanent. The thought of designing a menu, creating something from scratch at The Alex, filled him with excitement and reminded him of why he’d decided to go to culinary school in the first place. That and the fact that he’d dropped out of college and his parents had pushed him to find something else to do. He’d always liked to cook and decided to try it to get them off his back. He’d been surprised to find he actually had a passion for it.

“Here.” She forked a bit of scallop and held it up to him.

He took the proffered bite and closed his eyes. Now he
really
hated Andy—for his successful restaurant and his amazing scallops. “Your dinner is better than mine,” he said, opening his eyes. He offered her some duck.

She sampled the succulent bird and smiled. “I don’t know, that’s pretty freaking good.”

“I heard that!” Andy came to the table with a wide grin. He liked to eat his food as much as craft it, and he looked like he’d gained a good fifteen or twenty pounds in the years since Kyle had seen him last.

Kyle stood and hugged his old friend. “Great to see you. You look good.”

Andy clapped him on the back as they drew apart. “No,
you
look good. I look doughy.” He smiled to take the sting out of his self-deprecation.

“You also look happy and accomplished.” Kyle gestured toward Maggie. “This is Maggie. Maggie, this is Andy.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

“Ditto. Watch out for this jerk,” Andy said, jabbing his thumb toward Kyle. “He’s a smooth talker.”

She smiled, her eyes lighting with mirth. “So I’m learning.”

Kyle reluctantly pulled his gaze from her sexy stout-colored eyes and lush, peach-hued lips. He could just sit and stare at her for a long time, he realized.
And that wasn’t weird.
Mentally shaking himself, he looked at Andy. “This place is fantastic. You should be really proud.”

“I am, but it’s a ton of work. I hear you’re opening a place in Ribbon Ridge—your family’s renovating that monastery?”

“It was my brother’s plan.”

Andy grabbed his shoulder. “I’m such a douche. I was really sorry to hear about Alex. You okay?”

Kyle glanced at Maggie, who’d stopped eating and was watching their conversation. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s been a little rough, but we’re working through it. The project helps—gives us something positive to focus on.”

“That’s great. Keep me posted, okay? I’d love to come up and take a look some time.”

“Sure thing. We haven’t started construction on the restaurant yet, just finishing up the plans and waiting on permits now.”

“Sounds awesome. I can’t wait to see what you cook up.” He winked at Kyle. “Gotta get back to the kitchen. Don’t be a stranger. Maybe you can be my guest chef some night.”

Kyle smiled at his old friend, a little surprised at how satisfying it felt to see someone he hadn’t spoken to in years—Facebook notwithstanding. He’d done such a thorough job of closing off his life here when he’d gone to Florida that he’d all but forgotten the good things he’d left behind. “That’d be fun.”

“Pleasure to have met you, Maggie—see you later.” Andy retreated to the kitchen, and Kyle retook his seat.

“Nice guy. Seems like you were maybe close?” she asked as Kyle poured more wine.

“Once. Before I . . .” He shrugged. “Before.”

“Before the gambling became a problem.” She cocked her head to the side, drawing his gaze to her dark hair, which he was seeing down for the first time. It was long, reaching to just past her shoulders, and curly, which he loved. He had an urge to thread his fingers through the locks and relish the texture. “You can tell me to mind my own business, but is that why you left Oregon? The gambling?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised Alex didn’t tell you that.” Since he’d obviously known about Kyle’s gambling, which was news to Kyle.

“Most of what he said about you was quite complimentary. He never mentioned your gambling.”

Because no one knew about it, save Dad and Derek. Kyle yearned to ask for details but didn’t want to push, particularly given the ethics of it, and he knew she held her responsibility to her patients in high regard. He liked that, even if it had pissed him off at first. “Thanks for sharing that. Alex wrote each of us a letter, but we don’t get them until some predetermined time.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? That must be hard, having to wait.”

He shrugged. “I’m not as bothered by it as some, namely Tori.” Mom, Dad, Derek, and Sara had already received theirs. “I appreciate hearing that he had good things to say about me.”

“He had a lot of nice things to say about all of you. Okay, except one person.” She looked down at her plate and scooped a bite of quinoa. “Never mind.”

His curiosity was piqued, but he didn’t pursue the issue. Maybe she’d tell him in time. Did that mean he planned to see her again? He hoped so—regardless of how the drug investigation panned out. He liked her. She was smart, funny, and damn if she didn’t turn him on like crazy.

“You never actually answered my question,” she said. “About why you left.”

No, he hadn’t. And for once, he hadn’t intentionally deflected. He’d just gotten caught up in her talking about Alex. “Yes, that’s why I left.” He didn’t want to get into the specifics. He’d already shared far more than he ever had. “There was a . . . problem, and I thought it best if I was on my own for a while.”

Her eyes widened briefly. “A problem? Are you safe? I mean, you had a bookie and you left town . . .”

He laughed. “I wasn’t about to get whacked or anything.” The shit kicked out of him, sure, everything he owned seized by Shane’s boss, definitely. But then Derek had told Dad about the debt Kyle owed, and Dad had shown up and paid it.

The day had been saved, and Kyle had fulfilled everyone’s expectation that he’d be a complete fuckup. Dad had offered him a job to help him get on his feet, but Kyle hadn’t wanted a handout. He hadn’t even wanted Dad to bail him out with Shane’s boss. In fact, Kyle had planned to pay him back every dime, but he’d blown the savings he’d accumulated in Florida after Alex’s death, and now he had to start over. The familiar shame and anger swelled over him, darkening his mood.

“You’re doing it again,” she said, startling him from his lousy thoughts. The little worry lines she wore from time to time formed over the bridge of her nose. “When you feel like that—upset or overwhelmed—try breathing. Just focus on taking slow and steady breaths. Fill your lungs with air, expel it, do it again. Think of something calming. Something beautiful that makes you feel good.”

A vision of her smiling, those rich eyes of hers gleaming with pleasure, crowded his mind. He took a deep breath, let it out. Better. “Thanks,” he said. “Can I offer you a little advice in return?”

Her gaze turned skeptical. “Should I be afraid?”

He chuckled. “No. But I think you should laugh more. Ease those little creases.” He reached over and lightly touched the space between her eyebrows. “Here. You’re so pretty. I’d hate for them to stamp your face with permanent worry.”

“The old ‘don’t make that face or it’ll freeze like that’ wives’ tale?”

“Something like that. But I mean it. You’re gorgeous when you smile. You should do it more often.”

Swathes of pink highlighted her cheeks—also adorable. She looked down at her plate. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

They ate for a few more minutes, discussing the preparation of the food. When they slowed down and had nearly emptied their wineglasses again, he remembered the laptop. “Do you mind looking at the rest of the names? When you’re done.”

She moved her plate over. “I’m finished. There’s a bite of scallop left if you want it.”

“Hit me.”

She scooped it up and held up the fork. He took the bite, keeping his gaze locked with hers. “So good,” he said around the food.

She blushed again, more lightly this time, but he caught it. This flirtation could be dangerous. He might not be angry with her or blame her for Alex’s death, but she was still
that person
, and he was still the guy who didn’t stick around.

She turned her attention to the laptop and scrolled through the rest of the list of contacts.

“Anything?” he asked, scooting his plate to the side.

She closed the lid. “No, sorry. I barely recognized any names—your family, some people he mentioned from work.”

“Like who?”

“Paula, Natalie, Jeff, Aaron.”

All people Alex knew well and had plenty of reason to interact with regularly. Kyle felt a stab of disappointment but reasoned that he wasn’t empty-handed. He had Shane, and he sure as hell meant to get to the bottom of that connection.

She took a sip of her wine. “So, what are you doing here now that you’re back? You’re working on the restaurant?”

“And filling in for Hayden while he’s doing an internship in France. He’s always wanted to make wine.”

“Wow, good for him. You’re working for Archer?” She sounded nearly as incredulous as his family. Alex had apparently told her plenty about him if she had that sort of skepticism. He wished she didn’t, that she wasn’t predisposed to think less of him.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly in my wheelhouse, but I’m learning. I don’t
completely
suck at it.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” She said that with enough conviction that he almost believed it—and had to reassess his earlier reaction. Maybe she hadn’t cast him in a predetermined role after all.

Whitney returned and poured out the rest of the wine, then picked up their plates. “Can I get you dessert? We have a delicious marionberry tart. Or maybe the lemon curd cheesecake?”

“I’m stuffed,” Maggie said. “Though the tart is tempting.”

Kyle looked up at the server. “I think we’re good. Thanks.”

Maggie sipped her wine. “What are you going to do next?”

“Try to find out why Alex had Shane’s number. I’ll look through his room at home and his office.”

“You haven’t done that before?”

“Not his office. And when I looked through his room, I wasn’t looking for anything specific—now I have a name to search for.” He slid the laptop back into its sleeve, and they finished their wine. Whitney brought the check, and the evening came to a close far more quickly than Kyle would have liked.