Dinner.
How in the heck would she get through that? The man made her as edgy as a cat in a room full of dogs. Bren Connelly was a damn fine-looking specimen, yes. She had no problem admitting that. After they’d left his house the other day, she’d found herself thinking about his topaz-colored eyes, how they were neither brown nor gold but some pale color between. Those eyes had held humor and warmth and understanding, and it was the latter that disturbed her the most.
He was good with kids, though. She would have to admit that, too. The patience in his voice soothed even her and she wondered what the story was with Sheriff Bren Connelly. Older, but handsome. She’d broken down and asked her brother if he was married. He wasn’t. But she would bet the women of Via Del Caballo tried to pin him down. Was there a future Mrs. Connelly waiting in the wings?
Did it matter?
It didn’t, she thought, letting herself inside her apartment. The place still smelled new—like freshly cut trees and lemon polish. And it was huge compared to her apartment back in San Jose. “We’re supposed to head straight over to Uncle Jax’s,” Kyle said without so much as a hello, the door slamming closed behind him and Lauren’s heart bouncing out of her chest in the process. She hadn’t even heard the truck drive by. “He said to meet out by the pool.”
“You can go now,” she said, covering her heart with her hand. “I’ll be up in just a minute.”
That stopped the boy in his tracks. He seemed so much like Jax in that moment that it made her breath freeze all over again. She’d forgotten what he’d looked like at that age until that very moment, when her own son stared at her with her brother’s eyes and with the same expression of gentle admonishment on his face as he’d had when she’d stolen his set of Legos.
“You’re not going to bail on us, are you?”
He even sounded like Jax. Ten years going on thirty-eight.
“No. I just need a minute to pull my homework off the internet.”
Hazel eyes narrowed as he squinted, almost as if he tried to examine her more closely to determine the truth in her words. It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly.
“I’ll tell them you’ll be up in fifteen minutes.” He turned and ran off toward his room, Lauren smiling at how adult he’d sounded. But then he completely spoiled the effect by emerging with an armful of tiny toy men. His bull-rider collection.
“See you up there.”
Sigh. She supposed he would.
But first she really did have to print off her homework. Well, her assignment sheet. It’d take about two seconds.
She had to cross through the family room, passing the kitchen off to her right and a breakfast nook that overlooked the backyard to her left, and head down a hall to her own ginormous room. Kyle had his own room, too.
“My own bed!” he’d cried when he’d first seen the place.
Nothing like your kid pointing out the shortcomings of your living situation to make you feel like a bad mom. They’d been sharing a room since Paul’s death. She’d thought it’d been okay, but then Kyle had seen the apartment at her brother’s ranch and he’d gone crazy and she’d known she’d have no choice but to take Jax up on his offer and move in with him. So she’d done it—for Kyle’s sake, because she hated charity. Living off her brother’s goodwill felt like the worst sort of hand out, as if she couldn’t take care of herself and so she had to mooch off big brother.
She’d made it to her bedroom, she realized, but she stood in the middle of it, gazing off into nowhere. So she quickly opened her laptop, tapped keys and listened to the printer spitting out pages. Then she slowly sank onto her bed as she waited, a crazy thought occurring to her.
She was attracted to Bren.
As she’d stood next to him on the rail of that arena, watching him call out commands to her son, she’d been unable to deny it. Why she always went for the tall, dark and military type she had no idea. Maybe it was because she’d always admired her brother. It’d taken a bad marriage to make her realize some men could look like heroes on the outside and be anything but on the inside.
She got up and headed to her closet—a walk-in, no less; “Fancy,” Kyle had said—and pulled a blouse off the rack to her left. It wasn’t blingy or anything like that. Just a sheer top with a built-in chemise beneath. It hung loose around her upper arms, gathered by elastic at the crooks of her elbows. She resisted the urge to change out of her jeans, too. She didn’t want him to think she cared about her appearance or anything. She just didn’t want to look like a complete slob in her brother’s glorious house.
That’s what she told herself.
But as she headed out the front door and then around to the back of the house, she experienced something she hadn’t felt since high school. The same flutter she’d felt when Paul Danners had walked into her homeroom. The same trill of excitement. The same sense of awareness. The same gut feeling that their futures were linked. If only it’d all turned out like a Cinderella story.
“And this one is Trent Anderson,” Kyle was saying, holding up a tiny figurine and waving it in Bren’s face. Her son sat on a thickly padded chair with a redwood frame that matched the covering on a patio that was bigger than her old apartment in the Bay Area. It didn’t matter how often she visited her brother; the beauty of his home took her breath away. He had a pool, the kind found at a multimillion-dollar resort. Tonight the water sparkled, catching the last rays of the evening sun. But it wasn’t the stunning surroundings that made her freeze. It was the sight of Kyle handing his precious toys to Bren.
“Trent Anderson?” Bren said, a laugh escaping from him that was both masculine and sexy at the same time. “Tell me it isn’t so.”
“It is.” Kyle nodded emphatically. “Six-time NFR qualifier in bull riding. Did you know he was in a terrible accident that nearly destroyed his career? That they thought he’d never walk again, but then he went to a ranch like this one and they helped him recover?”
“I did know that.” Bren stared down at the toy with a look of amused satisfaction. “I consider Trent one of my best friends.”
“What?” Kyle practically bounced in his seat. “Are you kidding me?”
She forced herself to move forward. “Kyle, calm down. You about busted my ears with that shriek.”
Her son turned and faced her. “Mom. Did you hear that? He knows Trent Anderson.”
“Well, of course he does,” she said, walking over to her brother, the pungent smell of fresh-cut basil and parsley filling the air. Her brother glanced up from his chopping and she detected amusement in his eyes. It was good to see. Usually he was so serious, but that was twice today she’d seen him relax a bit, both times around Bren.
“I’m doing a meat pizza for the boys,” he said, patting his belly. “And a garden pizza for you.”
That was the big brother she remembered from her childhood, always thinking about her. “Sounds good to me.”
He went back to work and she took a deep breath, steeling herself as she faced Bren and her son. “I’m sure Bren knows a lot of famous bull riders.”
Their gazes connected and there it went again. Whoosh. Her stomach did the same thing it did on the roller coasters she used to ride as a kid. It didn’t make any sense, but she couldn’t deny it.
“Do you?” Kyle’s face peered up at him with such a look of unabashed awe Lauren smiled. She might want to avoid Bren like the plague, but clearly her kid had a big case of hero worship.
“I do.”
“Like who?”
Kyle listened as Bren rattled off a bunch of names Lauren didn’t recognize, but her son obviously did based on his “Really?” and “Wow!” and “No way!” Poor Kyle had had so little interaction with anyone who was hero material.
Including his own father.
She shoved that thought away with both hands. That was a lot of years ago.
She’d started over again.
In less than a year she’d be out of school. She’d find a job at one of the big hospitals and give her son all the things she’d dreamed about.
“...man, I would so love to meet him.”
“You could.” Bren glanced at her. “There’s a big bull-riding event an hour away from here this weekend. You and your mom should go. I’ll introduce you.”
Wait...what?
“You should.” Her brother sprinkled cheese on his creation. “Be good for the two of you to get out.”
She told her brother with her eyes she didn’t want to go, but instead of watching her back, her traitorous brother said, “I might like to go, too.”
“Really, Uncle Jax?” Her son couldn’t have sounded more excited if he’d been offered a chance to meet a Marvel superhero. “That’d be awesome.”
She felt her mouth open and close a few times, caught her son’s gaze, then Bren’s. How could she say no?
“When is it again?” she asked, dreading his answer.
“Saturday?”
“Can we go, Mom?”
She swallowed. Hard. Did she have a choice?
* * *
LAUREN DIDN’T LOOK HAPPY.
“Thanks for the pizza,” Bren said to Jax, stretching with the reach of someone well satisfied. “It was terrific.”
“Thanks,” Jax said gruffly, seeming uncomfortable with the praise.
“Kyle, come on.” She wasted no time, that was for certain. “You need to get to bed. School tomorrow.”
“But, Mom—”
She bit her lip and Bren enjoyed watching the way her teeth raked her bottom lip. “No buts. I have work to do still, and I can’t be coming back over here for you later on.”
“But Uncle Jax can bring me back.”
“Uncle Jax has company.”
Company she wouldn’t even look at. She’d been doing a better job than normal of ignoring him. He couldn’t decide if he should be grateful or disappointed.
“Just a few more minutes, Mom?”
“Listen to your mom, son.” Jax’s words brooked no argument. “I need some man time with Bren, so he’s going to stick around.”
That sounded more like an order than a request and it had Bren wondering what Jax wanted to talk to him about. Lauren’s brother sounded serious.
She held out her hand and Kyle clearly knew not to push matters. “See you tomorrow, Uncle Jax.” He tried to smile, but his disappointment was so acute he couldn’t muster the effort. “You, too, Bren.”
“You bet,” he said, holding his palm up in the air. “Gonna work you harder tomorrow.”
That brought out the kid’s smile. He slapped his palm against Bren’s. “Can’t wait.”
But Lauren? She walked away without a backward glance, the light from the pool catching her hair and turning the ends nearly blond. It was a beautiful night. The fog that hugged the nearby coastline had incited a breeze, one that tugged at the branches of the oak trees and disturbed the surface of the pool, which rippled in response. It might have been too cold if not for the outdoor pizza oven, which still emitted heat and cast a glow over the tables and chairs. They watched as the two disappeared around the side of the house. A long walk. Bren couldn’t believe the size of the place, nor how humble and down-to-earth its owner was.
“You’re doing a good job with Kyle.”
He looked up, met the man’s gaze. He had a feeling Jax Stone didn’t hand out praise all that often, and so he appreciated the spark of approval in the man’s brown eyes. “Thanks.”
“But I warn you Lauren’s not going to be much help when it comes to Kyle riding steers. She’s hoping it’ll all go away.”
He nodded his agreement. “I doubt it will.”
Jax stood, crossed to the island where he’d been making pizza and opened the door of a mini refrigerator. “Want one?” He held out a bottle of beer.
“No, thanks.” He wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. He’d been so nervous around Lauren that his palms had been sweating. “I don’t drink.”
Jax nodded his approval. “Smart man.”
“Town sheriff.”
Jax smiled as he took a seat. “Even smarter.” He bent again. “Soda? Bottled water?” he called from behind the mini refrigerator.
“Water sounds good.”
Jax handed him a clear bottle. Heat from the oven wafted toward them, still smelling of basil and garlic, although they had long since consumed the pizza.
“So what makes you think Kyle won’t give up?”
He reminded him of himself a long time ago, but he didn’t say that. “I suppose it’s the look in his eyes.” He frowned as he tried to put into words what he was thinking. “He’s not approaching it for the thrill of things. It’s more that he’s trying to figure it out. As if riding a steer is a puzzle that he’s determined to understand. I’ve seen that look before on the faces of a couple NFR qualifiers that I helped coach when they were young.”
“Really?”
Bren nodded. Jax set his beer down. “She’s going to fight you the whole way.”
Bren frowned again between sips of his water. “She’s not putting up much of a fuss now. I mean, I can tell she doesn’t like watching her son fall off, but what mom does?”
Jax shook his head. “She’s in the ‘it’s just a phase’ stage. When the steers get bigger and he wants to try riding a bull, that’s when it’ll hit the fan.”
He supposed Jax was right. “She’s going to hate me for helping him.”
Jax’s brown eyes were as sharp as the tip of a knife and Bren could tell he didn’t flinch from the truth. He liked that about the man.
“Nah. She’s not like that. She’s tough. Been alone for four years now, and before that...” He shook his head again.
“Before that?” he prompted because he had a feeling this was important. Still, the man took his time replying.
“It was tough for her. I tried to be there for her after Paul died, but I was running a business overseas and there wasn’t much I could do.”
Paul. The dead husband. “How’d he die?”
Another direct stare. “He worked for me.”
What? He had no idea why he’d assumed the man was a white-collar worker who’d died from a drunk driver or something, but that’s what he’d thought. And as the realization sunk in, something else clicked into place, too. The way she shrank back from him. The guarded look in her eyes. Her inability to hold his stare for longer than five seconds.
“They were having problems,” he guessed.
Jax’s head snapped up. His eyes narrowed. “How’d you guess that?”
“Just a hunch.”
Jax took another long pull from his beer. “Paul Danners was an ass.”
Bren had a feeling if Jax didn’t like you, there was probably a good reason why. The man struck him as a straight arrow.
“If I had a customer I didn’t like or who was difficult to deal with or had a huge ego, Paul Danners was my go-to guy. He’d pop off on the person and it either brought them into line or prompted a phone call, at which point I would explain that when it came to guarding precious assets, you don’t want Mr. Nice Guy.”
“But Mr. Mean Guy was married to your sister.”
“He was, and God help me, a part of me hated him for what he put her through.”
And that put him between a rock and a hard spot. “It must have been tough.”
“It was harder on Lauren. I think she hid the worst of it from me.”
Really bad, then. No wonder she was so protective of her son. And so closed off. He could almost sense the wall she had put up around herself.
“There’s a part of me that wonders if I didn’t send him on that last job on purpose.”
Was that guilt he saw in the man’s eyes?
“I knew sending him to Africa was dangerous.”
“Africa?”
Jax nodded. “My firm works around the world. Somalia pirates. Nasty business. I knew it’d be dangerous.”
He’d heard private contracting was a lucrative business, but clearly Jax had taken it to the highest levels.
“I still don’t know how it happened. The government officials were less than helpful. All I know is he ended up dead on my watch.”
“Were you there?”
Jax shook his head. “I don’t get involved anymore. Not on that level.”
“But you still own the business.”
“Which makes it ultimately my fault.”
And it tore him up. Even though he wasn’t there. Even though he hated the way the man treated his sister. Even though the man was a jerk, it still ate at him.
“I guess I have Paul to thank for all this.” He glanced around him. “It’s because of him that I decided to slow down. Even though I’m not entirely certain what ‘this’ is just yet.”
Trying to make amends somehow. That’s what “this” was, but Bren kept that thought to himself, too.
“Anyway, Lauren has scars, and they run deep, especially where my nephew is concerned. She’s hyperprotective. Sometimes overindulging, hence the steer riding even though she hates it, and independent to the point of stupidity. Kyle is the only reason why she moved to Via Del Caballo, despite that she needed the help in a bad way.” He became lost in his thoughts for a moment and Bren wondered what it was that put such a sad look on his face. He watched as the man sucked in a breath and refocused on him. “I’m glad she’s here, but I thought you might need a heads-up.”
“About what?”
For the longest time Jax simply stared. Bren had a feeling he wanted to tell him something, but then he shrugged and said, “Eventually she might try to stop Kyle from riding.”
A light flicked on nearby and he wondered if it was Lauren’s room. Could she hear them? He doubted it. Jax didn’t seem like the type to build flimsy walls, but it did something to him to know that she was there, maybe even stripping out of that sexy shirt...
No.
He wouldn’t go there. If ever there was a good reason to steer clear from Lauren, Jax had just spelled it out. She came with baggage piled as high as a cruise ship. He’d be a fool to let her pretty face sucker him into thinking...
What, exactly?
He took a sip of his water, waiting, wondering what Jax had really wanted to say. Whatever it was, he’d changed his mind.
“She’s had a tough go these past few years. I’m hoping she’ll find happiness here, but I have a feeling her marriage to Paul will make that difficult. And I have a feeling her overprotective nature will make your life difficult.”
Bren met Jax’s gaze. There it was again. The look. He had a feeling there was a deeper message, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what, and so all he said was “Thanks.”