Brett sat, perfectly still, on the couch opposite where Dan had just been sitting, wondering what in the hell had happened to his best friend since he’d left Vegas. That was not the Dan he knew and loved. Granted, maybe he should have thought through his presentation a little bit better, given the status of their relationship when he’d shown up this evening. Hell, he hadn’t even been thinking of Dan when the idea had hatched in his head. He’d been thinking of Kirby, and partnering her into the business using her excellent interior design skills. What she’d done with the inn, the personal touches, the local flourishes, the natural warmth she’d created…that’s how he pictured these places.
He’d design and do the reno, she’d design and decorate the interior, then they’d sell it and move on to the next project. His biggest concern was whether she’d want to take on something like that while running the inn, but he figured his busy season would be her slow season, so perhaps it would be the perfect partnership. He’d help her out in the winter with the inn and guests; she’d jump in with him in the spring and summer.
He hadn’t really thought about Dan, or bringing him in, until just about thirty minutes ago. The truth of it was, he really wanted a fresh start, and he wanted to share this new adventure with Kirby. He wanted a break from his past. Not to abandon it, but to move forward. He’d always love Dan, Vanetta, and the rest of the friends he’d made back in Nevada.
But here…this was where he wanted to be now. And he’d meant what he’d started to say, he hadn’t thought about it, but now that he was, yes, he’d take Dan on, too, form some kind of partnership. If Dan were remotely acting like Dan, anyway. They would make a good team in this endeavor. Dan’s strengths were in building solid structures with solid craftsmanship. Brett could design and help with construction, but Dan would make the perfect site manager and project foreman.
He acknowledged that his offer had been seen as an insult, and he even got where Dan was coming from. He’d been clumsy, at best, thoughtless at worst, in presenting it to him as he had. He didn’t know what to tell Dan about his dad’s company, or where he should go. Maybe Dan needed a fresh start, too. Though good luck convincing his deeply entrenched, routine-loving best friend of that possibility.
He spent a few more minutes considering if there was a way to expand on the Vegas business and just branch it out. He thought about what Kirby had said, about it being hard on Dan to have a friend who was a well-known celebrity, that his ego could only take so much. So he’d make Dan a full partner in this new endeavor so it didn’t come off sounding like he was offering Dan a job in his own damn industry, the one place where Dan was supposed to have the leverage and expertise in their friendship.
He hung his head and let the tension roll from his shoulders. Then he knocked back the rest of the beer before getting up and retrieving the other bottle, throwing them both in the trash.
He let himself quietly out of the suite, trying to decide what the best next step would be. But though the ride down in the elevator didn’t bring any answers regarding his friend, he did know what the next step was going to be with Kirby.
Smiling despite still feeling deeply unsettled about the situation with Dan, he climbed on his bike and headed home.
Chapter 18
Kirby carted the last load of quilts and bedspreads through the screen porch and out to the backyard where she’d resurrected the old rotating laundry line. It was still warm and the air fresh and dry enough that she thought it would be nice to give them all a good airing before her guests started arriving that weekend.
So, she might have shaken them loose with a bit more force than was absolutely necessary, but it was a harmless enough way to burn off excess energy. Energy she’d been hoping to burn off another way entirely. Except it didn’t appear as if Brett had come back last night. Or if he had, he was already up and out early this morning. He never made his bed and she hadn’t done his room yesterday assuming she’d get to it this morning. After they got up. Together.
She snapped out another blanket. Of course it was her fault. She’d told him to go be with his friend, hadn’t she? And she’d meant it. But that was when she’d thought he was coming back, when she could serve him the dish she’d kept warm in the oven for him, share a late-night glass of wine, and then maybe carry the bottle upstairs with them.
She swore under her breath as she flipped the heavy quilt up and over the line, then some more as she tugged it so it laid smoothly over the laundry cord. Would it have killed him to have at least called? She’d been all dreamy and thinking about their future after he left and then…nothing. She turned around, ready to shake out another blanket, only to discover she’d done them all. She picked up the basket and propped it on her hip, giving the linens a final look over.
Great. “Now what in the hell am I supposed to do?” she muttered.
“Well, they look kind of dry to me already, so you’ve got me.”
She swung around and wished she was slightly less thrilled to see him, that her heart hadn’t done a little twist and leap inside of her chest, and that her body hadn’t gone on full-tilt alert the moment she laid eyes on his smile. Because it would have been a hell of a lot easier to be at least a little put out with him, or at the very least, more believable.
“I’m airing them out,” she said, striving for complete indifference. But well aware that the thin, long-sleeve T-shirt she had on, and the complete lack of bra, was probably making it clear she was anything but. Maybe she could blame it on the breeze. If there was one.
“Do they need monitoring, or could I pull you away?”
Every particle of her being shouted “Pull! Pull!” She didn’t even try pulling off the bluff. Brett was definitely not the guy to try that with. “Pull me away where?” Her thoughts had already strayed up to his bedroom, and it was only a miracle of will that her gaze didn’t follow.
Then she realized he was holding something behind his back. Which turned out to be a motorcycle helmet. Her particles sank a little.
“I was hoping I could convince you to come on a ride with me. Up in the hills.”
If that last part was supposed to reassure her, he had missed the mark. “Why the sudden urge for a road trip?”
“I want to show you something. Two somethings, in fact.”
Then it clicked into place. She’d been so busy pouting and being put out by his not coming home to her last night that she’d forgotten all about the thing he’d started to tell her about. “Does this have something to do with the house you started to tell me about?”
He nodded. “Everything to do with it. Come on, I’ve been dying to show you, to tell you all about it.”
Could have fooled me, the pouty part of her still wanted to say. Fortunately the mature side of her brain prevailed. “Couldn’t we take my truck? Then we could talk on the way and you can tell me about it.” She cocked her head. “Are you…pouting? Did I just see you stick your bottom lip out?” Like he needed to be more adorable.
He lifted the helmet. “I don’t want to tell you. I want to show you. And besides, on my bike I can have you all wrapped around me.”
Her body leapt right on board with that suggestion. But her body was shallow. Her body wasn’t the part that was going to give her nightmares about suffering a road rash fatality. That was her head. The same rational part that was going to turn his suggestion down. Flat.
“You can duck your head behind mine. Close your eyes. But I honestly think once we turn up the mountain road you’re not going to want to hide. It’s nothing like riding through town or in traffic.” At her continued mutinous expression-okay, okay, maybe it was more dubious by then because her damn body wasn’t backing down-he added, “If you hate this ride, I won’t ask you to do it again. The truck will be the automatic default vehicle.” He held up his hand in some configuration, changed it a few times, and then grinned broadly and said, “Scouts honor. At least I’m sure they would honor my word. If I’d been a scout.”