Chapter 5.

Tyler was what Lane's Nana would call a noodge. He'd turned up in the past couple of days in the oddest places. Like the drugstore as she was walking out the door. Or over at Nalla's place while Lane was getting the chance to taste the chef's newest version of shrimp-and-crab fettuccini. Though she'd like to think the reason behind his sudden appearance was just to see her, she knew it was to get her to join the festival. But this time he'd found her in the grocery store between the guavas and the bananas.

And this time, he'd brought backup the head of the business a.s.sociation, his brother, Kyle.

Big surprise there.

"I'm feeling a little persecuted here, fellas," she said, her gaze s.h.i.+fting between the two men. They both flushed with embarra.s.sment, and Lane recognized the undercurrent of accusation between siblings. She could almost imagine the you-started-it-no-you-did battle when they were younger.

"Lane, your shop is near the main avenue and you're the only one not partic.i.p.ating in the Winter Festival. It's not required of members of the business a.s.sociation, but not taking part will make you stand out more than you realize."

"Uncle," she said.

"Uncle who?" Tyler said.

Lane sent him a patient look. He understood perfectly well. "I said 'Uncle', I give in, you have a victory. I'll join the festival completely." Lane knew when to concede defeat. She'd had to do it more than once in the past two years, and she understood only too well when she couldn't fight the fight to win the war. Not that she was at war with Tyler. She didn't know what she was with Tyler. But she figured that if she stopped trying so hard to get him out of her life, he might accept victory and go lavish his attention on someone new.

Instantly a stab of something close to pain shot through her chest, and images of his arms around another woman stung. Yet another warning that she was already falling for the man as if she needed another warning. That kiss and how deeply it penetrated her guard was plenty.

Just being near the man made her blood sing.

"Excellent," Kyle said, handing her a packet. He was a nearly identical version of his older brother, tall, muscled, with that charismatic McKay smile. Deadly.

Lane looked at the packet, then at him.

"It's the rules and requirements," Kyle explained. "The festival is a big tourist draw. The council made some restrictions, mostly with alcohol."

She nodded. She sold books, coffee and Nalla's m.u.f.fins, so alcohol restrictions weren't a problem.

"I'm glad you're partic.i.p.ating, Lane," Kyle said softly, his smile slow and s.e.xy. Good grief, she thought. A girl didn't stand a chance around these two.

"To be honest, Nalla Campanelli convinced me before today."

At that, Kyle's gaze narrowed and darkened. Tyler cleared his throat softly. And Lane wondered what was going on between her friend and this man. Interesting. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. And it was old news. Nalla hadn't mentioned anything about Kyle McKay before, and Lane never pried because she didn't want anyone prying into her past. But Nalla was the only person in this town who knew her real ident.i.ty. It was almost good that Nalla wasn't fond of a McKay.

"I still don't see how a bookshop could make a difference in a street festival."

"Your lattes and cappuccinos could, and if the chilly weather holds up, you'll do great."

Chilly? December in the South was not considered cold by Northerners. Not even brisk. It was one thing she loved about South Carolina, yet a little voice reminded her how hot it had been only three months ago. She'd hadn't chosen Bradford for its weather, but for the old-fas.h.i.+oned charm and slow pace, and because it was off the beaten path of anything reporter Dan Jacobs might stumble on. Everything had been great. Quiet. Until she'd met Tyler.

She looked up from the papers, meeting his gaze, and he looked a little concerned by her silence.

"I was just thinking that I'll have to hire help," she said quickly. "I can't run the store and partic.i.p.ate in the street festival from a vendor's wagon at the same time."

Tyler was quick to say, "Diana Ashbury's youngest daughter is home from college, and she needs a temporary job."

Lane eyed Tyler. "Well, it seems you've thought of everything, haven't you?"

"I try." He wasn't the least bit ashamed about maneuvering her into this.

Flas.h.i.+ng his brother a strange look, Kyle said goodbye and strolled out of the grocery store, leaving Tyler and Lane staring at each other in the produce aisle. "Why are you pus.h.i.+ng this so much?" she asked him quietly.

"Good for business."

True but very lame, she thought. Moving away, Lane bagged some fruit and vegetables, then pushed the cart farther down the aisle. Tyler was right beside her, smiling at people he knew, which was almost everyone. She could already see the gossip brewing on the air.

"It's the middle of the week do you even work for a living?"

"I'm the boss, so I get to make the rules."

She rolled her eyes. Who could resist that grin? "Why would you care about my business?"

"I care about you."

She stopped and met his gaze again. "You don't even know me, Tyler."

"I'm trying to rectify that, but you're not cooperating."

"You're not getting the message."

"I'm naturally hardheaded."

She laughed softly, and selected items quickly. She needed to be out of here and away from Tyler, or at least out of the public eye.

"You're really going to eat that?"

She looked down at the tin of anchovies and, shaking her head, put it back on the shelf.

He inched closer, his voice low. "I'm making you nervous."

"No, yes. No," she finally decided, annoyed with him. "Just really confused."

His smile fell. "How so?"

She tipped her head. "I don't know what your angle is. You keep showing up and working your way into my life, and I'm wondering if it's real interest or if I'm just another gotta-have-it-because-I-can't conquest."

"I thought you'd at least know me better than that by now."

"I don't know you at all." Except that he was handsome, stubborn and a great kisser. Her body responded to the memory of their kiss, and she hurriedly selecting items off the shelf. If she didn't get out of here she'd probably attack him in the middle of the grocery store.

"We're back to me trying to change that."

She looked at him. "For pity's sake, talking to you is like talking to wood."

"Give me one reason you don't want to see me."

Because I want you, she thought and quickly buried that idea. "I'm just not interested in a relations.h.i.+p, and like I mentioned before, you have a lousy reputation."

"That's weak."

"Oh, really? Look around us and tell me we aren't being watched intently."

He did and they were. "It's a small town."

"My point exactly. You might have the name and stamina to weather gossip and whatever comes along, but I don't."

He reared back. "You won't see me because I'm a McKay." No doubt a first for him, she thought.

When she didn't respond, Tyler's gaze narrowed on her. "My family is not me, Lane. But they come with the package. I can't help who I am."

"Neither can I."

He leaned nearer, his hand closing over hers on the cart handle. His eyes were intense and simmering with something she'd never seen before. The calm and charm were gone, and all that was left was pure Tyler.

"I don't know who hurt you so badly that you're terrified of being with me," he growled lowly. "But I'd like to punch the jerk."

Her eyes rounded. Then he kissed her. Nothing sweet and soft for the public, but a deep kiss of lips and tongue that curled her toes and left her electrified and breathless. Customers gasped and giggled, though she barely heard them over the roaring in her ears. All she saw was Tyler, inches from her and filling her with heated emotion she wasn't sure she was ready to accept.

"Just so you know, darlin', I don't intend to keep taking the blame for him," Tyler said.

He made an about-face and walked away, leaving her alone between the pork chops and chicken.

And like every time he was near, she didn't know whether to be happy or scared.

Tyler climbed into his car and slammed the door, his angry gaze on the store. Someone had done a number on Lane. He should just walk away. He didn't want to work past the damage left by another man. But he'd already tried staying away from her and hadn't lasted forty-eight hours. He was trying his best to take it slowly, to charm his way into her good graces. And he was failing miserably. He started the engine of the rental car, wanting his own Jaguar back, then s.h.i.+fted gears, and pulled out of the parking lot. He'd get her car fixed and that would be it. She'd have to come to him.

He'd driven half a block before he wondered why he was making demands on a woman who'd love for him to get lost. If he truly believed that, he reasoned, he would disappear. But he didn't believe it. Lane Douglas had something special, and he admitted he was enjoying breaking down her barriers, one by one. Soon, she'd tell him what had happened to make her erect so many walls. Tyler just wanted to scale them one at a time. Because their kisses spoke of more than just desire. h.e.l.l, it practically screamed power and fire, something he hadn't had in a very long time. He was surprised that he wanted to discover more. He'd put strict rules on his relations.h.i.+ps since Clarise had betrayed him, and he was man enough to admit that while they sounded good in practice, they made him feel a little superficial. Why should he expect more from a woman than he was giving himself?

Charming his way into Lane's life was more work than he'd ever had to do with a woman, and she still kept everything from him. Everything. Yet like a glutton for punishment, he kept coming back. That alone was a message he couldn't ignore, and if he was honest with himself, he was tired of being cautious.

The pageant launched the Winter Festival. Lane attended the children's play, smiling at the little toy soldiers and fairies, thinking she'd never seen anything so adorable in her life. The children looked as if they were having as much fun as the audience. Missed lines produced giggles, and one girl kept nudging a toy soldier until the boy nearly fell over. Lane had gone to private schools, and as a kid she'd never been involved in anything like this. But the sight of the kindergartners, so small and filled with wonder, opened up a longing she didn't think she had. While the choir sang, she wondered if she'd ever have children of her own, wondered if she'd be a good mother.

And who would she love enough to want to make those babies with? Tyler's face blossomed in her mind and she immediately cut the fantasy short. There was really no point in dreaming, she thought sadly. He'd never forgive her if he knew the truth, and to tell him the truth she'd have to trust him.

She didn't trust anyone. Except maybe Nalla. Yet while the children performed in the costumes she'd made, she felt more involved with the townspeople than she had in a year and a half. She liked people. She missed being with people. She missed a lot of things she'd thought she wouldn't.

Her career had surrounded her with fas.h.i.+on buyers, designers, models, reporters, photographers and textile merchants. Her own family was large and loud. Sure, they'd been in the papers a lot, the rich and notorious always were, but holidays were just like anyone else's huge dinners, gift exchanging and traditions. When they were all together. In the past eight years, those moments had been rare. Her parents lived separately, which wasn't a bad thing, though they were still legally married. Just too different to live in the same house. Lane accepted the fact that her mother was a little shallow and that she liked nightlife, traveling and being seen a smidgen more than she liked motherhood. Her father tended his vineyards as though they were another crop of children. As if she and her five siblings weren't enough. Lane forgot about the people around her, the children singing, and was still thinking about her father and missing him when the play ended.

See your good fortune, Elaina, her Papa would say. Why would you want more? There was more. She'd known it when she'd been with Dan even if it was one-sided, a complete lie and had lasted less than a year. She'd loved Dan, and sunk her whole heart into their relations.h.i.+p and had become lovers. For a while, it was wonderful, till he betrayed her. Yet there was a certain dark-haired man with a killer smile she blamed for making her even think of wanting more.

As the crowd filed out of the town theater, Lane received dozens of compliments on the costumes from proud parents, and she felt their warmth and good wishes flow through her like warm honey. Soon she was standing on the street in front of the old theater. Her gaze moved over the historical section of town. Bay Street ran through the center, near the river, then curved sharply to the area where her shop was located. While her end of the street hadn't been decorated yet, and she supposed some of that was up to her, on Bay the banners for the street dance were already up and flapping in the cool evening air. The construction of the stage near the waterfront park was nearly completed. Someone had strung lights on it already, and they twinkled like a s.h.i.+p in the harbor. She'd be able to hear the music from her shop.

Her vendor's cart would be at the waterfront, and her store would be open later. She hoped Peggy Ashbury, Diana's nineteen-year-old daughter, could handle the crowd. In the store she was doing fine already, and Lane was glad she'd hired her. Diana liked the ten-percent employee discount, too. Lane headed toward home.

After a few steps she heard, "Hi."

She jerked around. "Tyler. I didn't see you in there."

"I was backstage moving sets."

A millionaire moving children's stage sets. It made her smile. Tyler was so different from the men she'd dated before coming to Bradford. Money and privilege hadn't affected him, which was an attraction all on its own, she decided. He was involved in everything, wasn't above lending a hand, getting dirty. And right now he had paint smears on his hands.

"Not quite dry?" She pointed to them.

"Cheap paint." He rubbed at it. "I know this is going to sound really high schoolish, but can I walk you home?"

She smiled, shoving her hands deep into her pockets. "Sure."

He fell into step beside her, and they strolled without speaking for a few moments. Then he said, "I saw you running the other night on the beach."

She glanced his way. "A girl has to stay in shape."

"Who would know under all those clothes?"

"I beg your pardon?"

He loved that indignant look of hers. "I saw you in leggings and a sweats.h.i.+rt, Lane." He whistled softly.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, it was too dark to see anything." Exactly the reason she ran at night.

He knew that, but he liked teasing her. "I'm a man I have chick radar." He paused and then said, "And binoculars."

Lane laughed deeply and Tyler wanted to hear more. The breeze offered a whiff of her perfume, spicy, a little citrusy. It didn't fit the picture he was seeing. Her hair pulled back in a tight bun and the round gla.s.ses, slipped low on her nose so often she had to keep pus.h.i.+ng them up. Dowdy. Bookish. Then he remembered the woman running like a deer on the beach at midnight.

"You're not what you appear to be."

Everything inside her went on full alert. "How so?"

He leaned closer. "Kiss one and kiss two for starters."

"You're counting?"

"I'm hoping for a matched set. Six or eight, to start."