He should’ve left by now. But dinner rolled into dessert and that spilled into opening another bottle of wine.
Now he’d shed his jacket, hung his hat on the back of the barstool, and toed off his boots. He reclined on the couch and didn’t remember being this relaxed in a long time.
Kira had peppered him with questions for the past hour, and he’d either been extremely vague or dodged them altogether. Being a life coach, something he still didn’t understand, clearly left her quite inquisitive.
She sat in front of the fireplace on a large floor pillow, swirling her glass of Pinot. She’d pulled her hair up into some messy knot on top of her head and he couldn’t tell if the sexy hair around her shoulders or her overall laid-back style appealed more to him. Nothing about this guest should be drawing him in, but Kira had a knack for making him feel comfortable and at home.
Willowvale Springs was no longer his home. He would come and go and still had an office in town, but Brandon Littlefoot ran that branch. Pax preferred his home in Vail or his penthouse in Manhattan overlooking Central Park. His bungalow in the Keys wasn’t too shabby, either.
Being in Willowvale brought back too many memories. Memories of working on this dude ranch, catering to tourists who wanted overnight trips into the valley for the whole cowboy experience. That lost teen barely existed inside him anymore. With the back-and-forth toss he got from his divorced parents, Pax had vowed never to put a child through that. He also promised himself not to fall into a marriage trap, because that rarely ended well enough to take the risk. He didn’t have the time, nor did he care about feeding a relationship long enough to worry about forever. He never wanted to go through that pain ever again.
“You’ve picked at me long enough,” he told her after she tossed another personal question his way. “I’m turning the tables.”
Her perfectly arched brows rose. “I’m anxious to hear this.”
Yeah, so was he. He wasn’t confident in his questions like she seemed to be with hers. Granted, her career stemmed from learning her clients’ minds and souls. His career only worried about his clients’ bank accounts. Oh, he had to wine and dine clients, but any relationships he’d built were purely surface level.
“You have a condo in Portland,” he started. “You either have a cat or a bird. Something that’s low maintenance and can be left alone for periods of time.”
Her lips pursed. “I don’t have either at the time. No condo, and my cat actually died last year. I can’t bring myself to get another just yet.”
“You have an apartment? Something with a courtyard.”
“Wrong again.” She shook her head and tipped back her glass for another sip. “I’m currently homeless.”
Her statement startled him. Even though he was in the real estate business, he didn’t come across homeless people. His clients had millions if not billions. They demanded that level far above perfection. Homeless? How the hell was she homeless?
“Maybe the wine is getting to me,” she murmured, staring at the contents in her glass before setting it on the hearth. “I try not to discuss my personal life.”
“Ironic, don’t you think?”
Kira stretched her legs out in front of her and crossed her ankles. She leaned against the leather chair behind her and continued to hold his gaze. The tension between them didn’t seem at all awkward, but almost...calming. When was the last time he didn’t feel pressured or rushed or in demand from someone? Kira asked nothing of him other than to spend the holiday and share a dinner that she had graciously made.
“I’m not often asked,” she replied. “I mean, when I meet with clients, we’re discussing them and their needs or goals.”
He should stay out of this world of hers. He had no reason to dive any deeper. Focusing on his own state of affairs made more sense than trying to figure out hers. Attaching himself to her on any level could cause a domino effect of falling into that trap with others—and that was something he shouldn’t allow.
But he couldn’t help himself.
“So how long have you been homeless?” he asked, unable to help himself.
“Since last week. It’s a long story.”
Which should be his cue to leave. He had financials to look over; he had emails to read. Even on Christmas, Pax still had work that needed his attention. Resting and taking breaks would only put him behind. He didn’t get this far by taking days off.
Hank had taught him that. Nobody had a work ethic like that man, and Pax owed his success to working on this ranch all of his teenage years. Which was precisely why he needed to do right by him and make sure this ranch was run by someone who would take care of the property, just like Hank would want.
Silence settled heavy in the room. The fire sparked and cracked. Orange and red flames slid over the charred logs. Pax should put on his gear and head back to the house. He kept telling himself to stand up and thank her for dinner.
But there was something about her normally exuberant attitude that had a chink in it. Maybe it was that tired tone her voice had taken on, or perhaps the sadness that crept through her gaze for the briefest of moments. He wasn’t sure, but he knew whatever she was dealing with was getting to her.
“So where will you live when you get back?” he asked, already thinking of contacts he had in Portland.
She pursed her painted pink lips as she mulled over her response. Did she not have anyone who could assist her? Family or friends? One of her clients she’d made friends with over the years?
Perhaps Kira had too much pride to ask for help, but where did that leave her?
Again, he needed to distance himself, but that would only make him a jerk. This ranch had been his refuge when he’d been growing up. Hank and Edith had taken a young, bratty teen and turned his life around. Oh, he’d had a home to go to, but with no support and a dad who cared more about his gambling than his own son, Pax knew that feeling of despair.
“I’m confident something will fall into place,” she replied. “You don’t happen to have a spare condo in Portland, do you?”
Her sweet laugh seemed to mask that pain he’d heard lacing her tone earlier.
The woman made her living off positivity and happiness. Of course she wouldn’t let her facade crack...at least not intentionally and in front of a virtual stranger.
“I don’t have a spare condo lying around, no.”
Leaning forward and crisscrossing her legs, Kira let out a deep sigh. “My best friend, the one who forced me on a vacation here, offered a room at her place until I found something, but she just had a baby and there’s no way any of us would be happy with that setup.”
Pax cringed at the idea of trying to live with a newborn, but he never wanted children, so that just seemed like a nightmare.
“No family in the area?” he asked.
“I only have my mom...well, and her soon-to-be fourth husband, but they live in Washington.”
“I’m sorry, did you say—”
“Fourth,” she confirmed with a nod. “Some people collect stamps. My mother collects husbands and ex-husbands. I don’t look for this one to last any longer than the others.”
Interesting. Clearly Kira didn’t have much stability in her life, either. Her career and goals were all on her own shoulders, much like him. And Pax really didn’t care for all these similarities that continued to pull him even closer to her and her world. He had his own world he was quite content with, not to mention his schedule was beyond full.
Yet here he sat, trying to solve the problems of a woman he’d known all of two days.
“I admit I was surprised to see you were traveling alone and staying through the New Year,” he told her. “That’s pretty rare.”
“I’m rare,” she volleyed back with another adorable laugh. “I do love the holidays, but I don’t hang much around family traditions. I guess I’d have to have them to begin with.”
Family traditions? Yeah, he didn’t even know that concept himself. Hank and Edith would always host a large gathering around the holidays for any staff who wanted to attend. He never missed. For one, he didn’t really care about spending those days with his father, and his father wasn’t exactly whipping up anything grand. For another thing, Pax’s respect for the Carsons wouldn’t allow him anything else other than joining them for a meal they’d prepared in appreciation.
“I take it you don’t have much family.”
Her statement had him shifting his focus from the past to the present.
“My dad is alive, but I haven’t spoken to him in years.”
“So we’re both just a couple of outcasts?” she asked, reaching for her wineglass.
Outcasts. He never thought of himself that way, but she wasn’t far from the truth. He and Kira had both made their way through life and to their goals without support or assistance from family. He appreciated a strong woman and one who wasn’t afraid to take charge of her life...or travel alone for a new adventure.
Kira stared at her empty glass and frowned. “That went fast.”
Pax couldn’t help but chuckle. Not that he was a heavy drinker by any means, but this petite thing was clearly a lightweight. She wasn’t drunk, but she was very likely feeling good.
Which was definitely his cue to leave.
He came to his feet and stretched the stiffness from his shoulders and back. He wasn’t used to sitting in one place for so long.
“You rushing off?” she asked, her wide eyes staring up at him.
He didn’t want to rush off. He wanted to stay, to explore this undeniable, indescribable pull toward her. Ignoring the pull seemed careless. He’d always honed in on his emotions and followed his gut.
But he also had common sense and an intimate setting coupled with too much wine was not a good combo.
“It’s getting late.”
He assumed. He’d actually lost track of time, which he never did. For once, he wasn’t looking at his watch or his phone. He’d enjoyed the evening and the woman.
Kira extended her hand, a silent request for him to assist her up.
Pax gripped her delicate hand in his and gave a slight tug. She popped up to her feet with a wide smile that punched him directly in the gut with a need he didn’t want, but couldn’t ignore. She didn’t pull her hand away and he didn’t let go.
“You’re not as grouchy as I first thought,” she murmured, her eyes exploring his. “You’re just lonely.”
Like me. Those two unspoken words hovered between them just the same as if she’d said them out loud. He’d entered so far into a dangerous territory with Kira, he wasn’t sure he even knew the way out at this point.
And he wasn’t lonely. He’d had a thriving social life back in Spain just weeks ago. He’d leased a temporary penthouse while working on his start-up company. He wanted nothing more than to get back and finish things. Losing his momentum there could be the end of his firm, and he refused to admit defeat. He’d worked too hard for this next step.
But the woman standing before him with a silent invitation in her eyes threatened to distract him in the most intriguing way.
She inched closer, keeping that wide gaze locked in on his. His gut tightened in both anticipation and arousal. He hadn’t been with a woman in quite some time. While his social calendar remained full, he’d been too busy obsessing over his latest development.
But seducing a woman half-intoxicated wasn’t on his to-do list, either.
Then her lips grazed his and Pax pulled up every ounce of willpower he possessed to resist temptation. But when her lips parted and covered his in the softest, sweetest gesture, he nearly snapped. He clenched his fists at his sides, but returned the kiss. His lips fit hers a little too perfectly, and the sweet taste of wine had him wanting even more.
Kira let out a soft moan as she eased back and looked up at him once more. A flirty smile danced around her mouth, and Pax felt he deserved some award for how well he’d handled himself. But he wasn’t out of here yet. The snow fell outside in the dark of night, the fire provided a warm, intimate atmosphere, and there wasn’t a soul around to stop them.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she told him. “But I’m not sorry.”
He should say something, do something, but she kept him on his toes and so damn confused. He needed to go before he forgot all the reasons this was a bad idea.
“Thanks for dinner,” he told her before moving toward the door. He slid into his boots, pulled on his coat, and plucked his hat from the hook. Curling the brim in his hands, he turned to glance over his shoulder. With Kira’s hair framing her petite face and that inviting mouth he’d just experienced, he had a hard time leaving her standing here by herself, just to go back to the main house to spend the evening alone.
Sometimes life provided impossible forks in the road. No matter which way he went, he’d wonder if he made the right decision. And maybe if she hadn’t had wine and he knew her head was in the right place, just maybe he’d stick around. But that wasn’t the case.
“I’m not sorry, either.”
He left her with those words as he stepped out into the bitter cold and headed out to finish the rest of the night alone.