“Come on, you guys! Let’s play go fish!” hollered Bailey, waving a deck of cards.
Alex just happened to be sitting next to him. He’d shouted the words directly into her ear. She winced at his caterwauling—and then grabbed him. As she gave him a noogie, she reminded him, “Who forgot to use his inside voice?”
“Aunt Alex, stop! No! Let me go...” He dissolved into giggles.
She planted a kiss on the side of his head before releasing him. “No more yelling in my ear, or I might just have to do that again.”
It was after dinner that night. They were all sitting around the great room in the big Craftsman-style house on Halstead Farm, where Josie lived with her husband, Miles, and their blended family.
“Go fish, you guys!” shouted Penn. “Come on, me and Bailey want to play.”
“Keep it down, son,” Easton chided gently just as Davy, Josie’s boy, who was almost ten months old, started crying. Maybe from all the yelling by the twins—or maybe because he was teething.
“I think he’s wet,” declared Miles’s fourteen-year-daughter, Hazel, in whose lap the baby was sitting. “I’ll change him.” She got up, hoisted Davy to her shoulder and headed for his room.
The twins settled cross-legged on the floor at the big coffee table. Penn demanded, “Come on, Mom. Play with us.”
“Can’t.” Payton patted her giant belly. “Baby bump privileges. If I get down on that floor, I may never get up.”
Bailey chortled at that as Penn turned pleading eyes on Alex. “Aunt Alex? Please?”
She had a serious food baby of her own, but she was putty in the hands of both of those boys. Alex slid to the floor next to Bailey as Penn continued to make puppy-dog eyes at all the adults.
Wouldn’t you know, West settled in cross-legged right next to her. “I’ll play.” He slid her a glance he probably meant to seem innocent. Too bad there was nothing the least bit innocent about Weston Wright.
“Such fun,” she said drily.
He leaned closer. He smelled good, as she remembered all too well—clean and woodsy with a hint of spice. “Watch out. I’m dangerous at go fish.”
She snickered. “I think you’re just dangerous, period.” It took her a few seconds to realize they were staring at each other.
Quickly, she looked away as Miles and his gorgeous older daughter, seventeen-year-old Ashley, joined them around the low table.
Through four games of go fish, Alex took special care not to share any lingering glances with the hot guy to her left. How was it that trying not to look at him only made her want to look at him more?
Still, the game was fun. The boys were in their element, laughing a lot, bossing each other around. Josie and Donna, Miles’s mom, served coffee and hot cider. The homey great room was full of the people Alex loved the most, everyone either arguing over the game or making plans, coordinating the big turkey dinner at Auntie M’s tomorrow night. Miles’s border collie, Bruce, and Tinkerbell, Josie’s Dutch shepherd, were stretched out by the fire side by side while Hazel’s calico cat, Miss Edith, sat in the arch to the front hall, her fluffy tail wrapped neatly around her pretty white paws.
The group thinned out around eight thirty. Payton and East took the boys home to bed. Ashley’s handsome boyfriend, Chase, arrived to take Ash to a party. Miles’s mom left for her house in town. And then Auntie M and Ernesto called it a night. Alex had ridden over there with them, but the guest cottage was less than a mile from the Halsteads’ house. She hugged her aunt goodbye and said she would walk home.
Weston, who had come over with Easton, Payton and the boys, said, “Alex, wait up. I’m heading back, too.”
So they walked together, hands stuffed in the pockets of their winter jackets, ice crunching under their boots, collars turned up. Mostly, they were silent. Overhead, a pale sliver of new moon peeked in and out through the clouds. Once, she glanced his way just as he looked over at her. His nose was red. Hers must be, too. Their breath came out as mist.
He gave her a crooked, totally charming smile. “Good dinner.”
“Excellent,” she agreed, and tried not to think about how it might feel to kiss him right now—how their lips would be so cold at first, quickly growing warm, how they might pull back a little to grin at each other when their frozen noses bumped together...
At the guest cottage, she insisted that he use the bathroom first. He was quick, disappearing into his room for the night not ten minutes later. She had a shower, brushed her teeth and corralled her still-damp hair into Dutch braids.
When she climbed into bed, sleep didn’t come. She felt energized—and edgy, too. As though a current buzzed just beneath the surface of her skin. She kept thinking of West in the other room. He was probably sleeping like a baby by now, without a care in the world.
She, on the other hand...
Her life was all up in the air. She didn’t even know if she wanted to live in Portland anymore. Probably, yes. It was the biggest city in Oregon and not that far from home. And she would need to do something constructive with her life, even if she did happen to be ridiculously wealthy now. She really ought to do something with her years of experience in corporate law. Maybe she could set up her own practice, do a lot of pro bono work, try to give back somehow. Or create a foundation of some kind, help out women who were struggling to bring in a paycheck and raise their children, too.
It all felt kind of overwhelming. Her father had never been there for her when he was alive. Now, in death, he had thoroughly messed with her life plan.
She sat up, punched her pillow and flopped back down, disgusted with herself. Oh, she had it so rough, now didn’t she? She was single, with no children, free to go wherever she wanted, do whatever she pleased. And she had more money than she knew what to do with.
Poor, poor Alex...
“Tea,” she whispered to herself, shoving the covers back, swinging her feet to the rug and reaching for her big, comfy cardigan. Valerian tea would relax her, help her stop freaking out about things that really weren’t even a problem. In no time, she would be drifting off to sleep.
Wide-awake in the back bedroom, West was thinking about Alex—and he shouldn’t be. But somehow, he couldn’t stop.
He wasn’t supposed to—he’d promised himself not to. And yet, after all these months, he still wanted to jump her. Sexually speaking, she had that certain something. She did it for him, riled him up but good.
He’d never met a woman so hot and yet simultaneously so smooth, so in control. He wanted to heat her up, shred that control to tatters.
But no.
They’d agreed not to go there.
He needed to hold up his end of their deal.
When she was cool, he needed to be cooler. He needed not to want her so much harder than she could not want him.
It was keeping him awake, all this thinking about not wanting her.
Maybe some hot milk would settle him down—or better yet, a glass of scotch.
He got up, pulled on sweatpants and a sweatshirt and went looking for something relaxing to drink.
Instead, he found Alex in a giant sweater and flannel pajama pants, with her hair in braids like a Disney heroine. She sat on a stool at the kitchen island, resting her chin in one hand and dipping a tea bag into a mug with the other.
“What’s that you’re drinking?”
She gave him one of those so-patient looks of hers. “Sleepyhead Tea. It’s got valerian.”
“Who?”
“Valerian. It’s an herb. Helps you sleep.”
“Does it work?” He took the stool beside her.
“Yeah. Want some?” She pushed the mug and saucer over in front of him. “All yours. I’ll brew myself another.” She jumped up, rounded the island and got down a mug, a saucer and a tea bag.
He carefully removed the tea bag from the mug she’d given him. “Is it good?”
“It helps you sleep.” She poured water from an electric kettle over the fresh tea bag. “It’s not about the flavor.”
“Scotch helps you sleep. It tastes great.”
“Factually speaking, scotch does not help you sleep—or if it does, once the buzz fades, you’re likely to wake up.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll try the tea.” It really didn’t smell all that fantastic. But he sipped it anyway.
“Well?”
He sipped again. “Hmm. Kind of funky, with subtle notes of gym socks.”
She laughed. He liked her laugh a lot. It was husky and real. “All right, West. I’ll get the scotch for you.”
“Never mind.”
“You sure?”
He nodded. “The tea is fine.”
She brought her own mug over and sat beside him again. “What are you doing up?”
“Just couldn’t sleep.” Okay, it was a partial lie. So what? She didn’t need to know that thinking about boning her again was giving him insomnia. “You?”
She puffed out her cheeks with a hard breath. “Life. Jobs. What to do next. All that...”
He sipped more funky tea and tried not to remember the most intimate things—the velvety feel of her skin, the taste of her, the sounds she made. “Easton told me you decided to leave your job in Portland.”
“Yeah. The truth is, I don’t need that job anymore. I never have to work again. My dad left me more money than I know what to do with.”
“And having a lot of money is a problem somehow?”
She flipped one of her braids back over her shoulder. “It’s a very long story.”
“I’m listening. And I like those braids.” He really wanted to pull on one.
“Thank you.”
“You seem pissed off at your dad.”
She stared into her tea. “Yeah. I guess I am—scratch that. I know I am.”
What was it about being alone with someone in the middle of the night that made them get honest, made them admit things they might not say in the harsh light of day?
Tonight, that seemed to be the case with Alex. “My dad loved my mother,” she said. “Too bad for him, my mother only loved herself. She dumped him for a teenage soldier, Josie’s dad, who died when Josie was a baby.”
“East told me about Payton’s dad, that Payton never met the guy.”
“That’s right. The identity of Payton’s dad remains a mystery. My mother’s love life was wide-ranging. She never really settled down with one guy. She died when I was fourteen. By then, all three of us—Payton, Josie and me—knew not to depend on her for anything. All three of us were raised here on the farm. But I lived in a big house in Portland’s West Hills for the first year and a half of my life—not that I remember living there. When my mom, Adrienne, dumped my dad, she dropped me off with Auntie M here at Wild Rose. Josie and Payton were born here. Adrienne would come back to the farm whenever she needed a place to stay. Auntie M was our mother in all the ways that count.”
He suggested gently, “But back to your dad...”
She shrugged. “When my mother divorced him, my dad moved to Southern California. He had no more time for me than my mother did.”
“But you had your aunt.”
“Exactly. She was all the mother we needed, my sisters and me.”
“Did your dad have other kids?”
“Nope. And he never got married again as far as anyone knows. What he did do was make money in real estate. A lot of money. At one time, he owned his own real estate business, Herrera Group, with offices in LA, Palm Springs, San Francisco and Seattle. But then a few years ago, he sold the business and retired. He played golf a lot. Died on the golf course, as a matter of fact.
“To give credit where credit is due, he did pay child support until I was eighteen—too bad that, until my mother died, he wrote the checks to her. She took the money and spent it on God knows what. I rarely saw her or my dad. She only showed up when she needed something and he never asked for visitation. But at least he sent the checks to Aunt Marilyn once my mom was gone. That money helped out a lot.”
“Tell me he helped you with college, at least.”
“Sorry, but no. One of the few times he showed up in Oregon to see me, he explained that it would be character-building for me to pay for my own education.”
“So you put yourself through college?”
“I had some scholarships, but not a full ride. I’ve spent my life counting only on myself, my sisters and Auntie M—and then what happens? My dad dies and leaves me a fortune.”
He wanted to put an arm around her, hold her close. But he knew she wouldn’t go for that. “I can see why you’re pissed off. Money’s nice. But your dad should have been there for you.”
“Yeah. I wanted my dad. I couldn’t see why he didn’t want me back. And then eventually I accepted reality and moved on.” She gave him a crooked little smile followed by that wonderful, husky laugh. “The irony is I’ve been scrimping and saving for most of my life. I’ve worked killer hours at the firm so I would be ready if the farm ever got in trouble, or if Josie or Payton got in a jam. Now I find out I could have taken it easy because dear old Dad ended up leaving everything to me.”
Though he knew he probably shouldn’t, West leaned a little closer to her. She smelled so good. He imagined pressing his lips to the soft skin of her throat. “Let’s focus on the bright side here.”
“You’re right. I’m rich. I should be happier about it. I actually feel kind of guilty that I’m not happier about it.”
He couldn’t help laughing when she said that.
She bopped him on the arm with the back of her hand. “West. It’s not funny.”
“Yeah, it kind of is. Lighten up.”
She shifted sideways just enough that her shoulder brushed his arm. He wished she would do that again. “I can’t lighten up.” She put on an exaggerated sulky face and whined, “Not yet. I think I’m in shock. I still can’t believe I walked out on my job.”
“Do you think you made a mistake, walking out?”
“No. It’s not that. I know I made the right choice. The reason for my working at Kauffman, Judd and Tisdale no longer applies. I was there for the money, pure and simple. It wasn’t cool to just walk out like that, but I needed to quit.”
“And you could afford to walk out. You just surprised yourself. Nothing wrong with that.”
She peered at him through narrowed eyes and accused, “You’re very insightful, West, you know that?”
“Are you saying I don’t seem like the insightful type?”
“No, not at all. It was only an observation.”
“Alex, there’s more for you to be happy about than just the fortune you’ve inherited.”
“Hit me with it. Please.”
“With your corporate law background, you know how to manage the money your dad left you.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Would you have gone to law school if you’d always known your dad planned to leave everything to you?”
“Maybe not. All my life, I’ve been driven to look out for the family, to be ready if they need me, to earn enough money that I can stave off potential disaster.”
“So then, look at it this way. Though you didn’t know it at the time, you were always preparing yourself to manage the money your father would leave to you. If you had known you were your dad’s only heir, it could have gone differently and not in a good way.”
“You mean I could have been a slacker?”
“No way. I can’t see you as a slacker under any circumstances. But you might have chosen a different career path and then ended up with no idea what to do with the money you would eventually inherit.”
“West. I’ve hired investment managers. I could have done that even without a background in law.”
“But could you have hired them knowledgeably?”
She slapped a hand on the granite countertop. “What do you know? I’m knee-deep in silver linings. I know how to manage my inheritance—and what about this cottage?”
He teased, “Are you changing the subject?”
“No. I’m counting my silver linings. I fixed this cottage up with my dad’s money and I love how it turned out. It’s small, but cozy.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Josie, Payton and I talked about expanding the footprint of the house, but we decided against it. It’s perfect as a guest house. And a couple of months ago, also with the money my dad left me, I set up trust funds for all three of my nephews. As soon as my niece is born, I’ll set up one for her.”
“Spreading the wealth. Admirable.”
“And then I thought about Ash and Hazel...”
“Hold on. You lost me.”
“Josie’s stepdaughters.”
“Okay...”
“I thought, why leave them out? Miles wasn’t on board at first. He seemed to think that would somehow be taking advantage of me and he wanted to make it clear that he was on the job as a dad, that he’d saved for their educations, that he could afford to back them up in whatever they wanted to do in life.”
West had no doubt how that had worked out. “You changed his mind.”
“He took some convincing, but in the end, he gave me his blessing. So I set up trust funds for the girls, too—not that any of my nieces and nephews are going to end up in need. Payton just signed another seven-figure book deal and you know how well your brother is doing. And as I already said, Josie and Miles are doing fine, too.”
“You’re going to be fine. Wait and see.”
Her shoulders drooped. “It’s just that, suddenly, I hardly know myself. I mean, I’ve always been a planner. And now I’m realizing that my plans have gotten me exactly nowhere. I’m still leasing an apartment because of my plans, which included waiting to buy a house until I made partner and funded my buy-in. I had it all laid out for myself, how my life would go. And then Monday, I had Chinese for lunch.”
“Hold on. You lost me there. What does Chinese food have to do with anything?”
“I’m saying, I took one look at the fortune in my cookie and quit my job.” She got up, grabbed an index card from under a magnet on the refrigerator and handed it to him across the island.
He read, “Do it now.”
“That’s me, West.”
“Doing it now?” He didn’t mean to sound hopeful, but it might have come out that way.
Folding her arms under her breasts, which he couldn’t help wishing he might see again someday, she announced, “What I mean is, I have all the big plans. And yet, I quit my job because of a fortune cookie—and all my big plans came to nothing.”
“Come back here.” He patted the empty stool beside him.
She yawned. “I think the tea might be working.”
Really, he was having far too good a time to let her run off to her room right now. He patted her stool again.
Surprised the hell out of him when she marched back around the island and hopped up beside him. “Now I just need to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.”
“Cut yourself some slack. Relax a little. You’ll get there.”
“Maybe I’ll go to a sperm bank and have a baby, like Josie did with Davy. Or maybe I’ll adopt. There are a lot of kids out there who need mothers, you know? Even a disgruntled single career woman for a mother is better than no mother at all.”
“I don’t see you as disgruntled.” He saw her as hot—and, tonight at least, way too damn hard on herself.
She made the cutest little pouty face. “Well, I certainly do feel disgruntled.”
“Maybe get a puppy first—before signing on for a baby, I mean.”
She braced her elbow on the counter and her head on her hand. They stared at each other. He would only have to lean in a few inches to kiss her—but he wasn’t going to do that. As he constantly reminded himself, they’d agreed on that one night and no more. “You might be right about the puppy,” she said. “I’ve always wanted a dog, but with my work schedule, it just made no sense...”
“See? More silver linings. You have no work schedule at the moment. You can finally adopt a puppy.”
With two fingers, she pushed her empty mug and saucer toward the other side of the island. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For listening.” A little sigh escaped her. “For saying all the right things.”
“You did the same for me not that long ago.”
Her eyes were low, lazy. He felt pretty relaxed himself. The funky tea must be working.
Those lips of hers...
He really wanted to taste them again, wanted to ease a hand under those Disney braids to clasp the back of her neck. He wanted to pull her to him, right up close.
Pull her to him, kiss her for a long time and then scoop her up and carry her to the back bedroom. She made him feel...open, somehow.
Like she saw right down inside him and accepted what she saw.
He liked her. Too much.
And he wanted her.
A lot.
And maybe, over the months since last New Year’s, he’d thought about her more often than he’d let himself admit.
Really, he needed to watch himself with her. Get a grip. Behave.
They had an agreement and it wouldn’t be a good idea to mess with it. Last January, she’d made it crystal clear where she stood—and so had he.
If they got something going, there was way too big a chance it wouldn’t end well. He wasn’t his parents or his brother. He was missing the true-love-forever gene.
But what about her? Alex seemed no more interested in romance than he was.
And that had him thinking that maybe they could reach another agreement, just for the holiday weekend—and possibly for Christmas, too...
No. Uh-uh. Terrible idea. There were far too many ways a plan like that could go wrong.
His stool scraped the floor as he jumped to his feet. “It’s getting really late.”
Alex sat up straighter. For a split second, he thought he’d upset her. But then her soft lips curved in a lazy smile. “Good night, West.”
“Night.” He turned and left her there before he did something he would only end up regretting.
Alex waited until she heard the door to the back bedroom click shut before she carried the mugs and saucers to the sink and loaded them into the dishwasher. She took a minute to empty the electric kettle and wipe down the island.
Then she headed for her own room.
Once she’d shut and locked the door, she let her head fall back and—very quietly—groaned at the ceiling.
West Wright was dangerous. He was too sexy, too charming. Very intelligent. And altogether too perceptive.
She liked him, damn it. Too much. He just...well, he got to her in a very good way. West made her laugh and he spoke to her honestly. She could feel the heat between them. She knew he was trying just as hard as she was not to do anything they might both regret. It would be beyond stupid to fall into bed with him again—and he knew that as well as she did.
When it came to her and West, the last thing they needed was to Do it now.