A Season in Gemini, Intro (2 page)

Since the question was rhetorical and there was nothing else to say, she rose and left the room. It was the adult version of being grounded.

Garland didn’t hate her father. She believed he loved her in his own distant, detached, heavy-handed way. She’d also spent enough time in the homes of friends to know that warmth and affection had been missing in their household since her mother died.

Visiting with friends was a great vicarious pleasure for her. She loved observing the dynamics of families where love was shared openly and without agenda. She wanted that for herself someday.

CHAPTER 2

Brant Fornight
was a third generation Austin native and everything about the town suited him just fine. He wasn’t one of those people who lived in the mountains, but dreamed of a house on the beach. Or vice versa.

Dry air, hills, and live oak was good enough for him.

He’d made up his mind that he wasn’t interested in the life the club could offer him. Since he’d grown up in and around his dad’s motorcycle club, he was able to make a truly
informed
choice.

Brant didn’t have the kind of angry fire in the belly that motivates a man to choose that path. He wasn’t overly interested in money, especially not if it came with the risk of prison. And he hadn’t experienced the sort of injustice that had caused the original seven members, all Vietnam vets, to band together with a third finger prominently raised at particular aspects of society.

Brant
thought of himself as a simple sort of guy even though he was an avid reader of classics and secretly pondered some of the great philosophical brain-scramblers while he worked as a mechanic. He’d been born with the talent for it, loved taking things apart and putting them back together in better condition than before. The Sons of Sanctuary had nurtured that gift by mentoring and letting him tinker with their vehicles.

After high school, he
’d drifted from one Austin repair shop to another, accidentally improving his resume with each move to a larger shop, new title and more money. When he was twenty-five, he took a job as Head Mechanic at the Yellow Rose Resort. It required a double skill set: mechanic
and
manager of fuckwads who needed a babysitter more than a supervisor. Even though he was younger than almost all the guys who reported to him, he handled it. One way or another.

He smiled about that. It was
exactly the sort of thing his old man liked to say.
Get it done. One way or another.

It never occurred to Brant to wonder if there was more to life, and maybe he never would have, if Garland St. Germaine hadn’t gotten lost while exploring the resort grounds. Occupied by her own dark thoughts, not looking at much but the pavement in front of her, she’d wandered far afield of the guest paths. When she looked up, she was in front of the huge vehicle maintenance facility known as “the shed”. She didn’t know how she got there and had no idea how to find her way back.

Since she’d been
in Austin for a week, she’d acquired a golden tan that would be the envy of any lotion ad. Her ash blonde hair had also lightened several shades and taken on some dramatic, but still natural, highlights. Wearing a tank top, knee length shorts, she flip flopped through one of the open bays and came face to face with Brant Fornight.

He was wearing jeans
and a black tee with the Yellow Rose logo and text that simply read CREW.

He looked her over too quickly to b
e accused of leering at a guest. And everything about her screamed guest, from the small diamond studs in her ears, to the designer sunglasses, to the skin that had that look of perfect nutrition and expensive lotion.

“
What can I do for you, darlin’?”

The endearment was politically incorrect according to the new standards, but if she complained, he could always say it was just part of the local charm.

Looking at the twin fires in Brant’s
striking black eyes, she temporarily forgot what she needed. It was hard to tell whether the amusement on his handsome face was a permanent expression or if he was having fun at her expense.

She cleared her throat. “I was having a look at the, uh, property and I guess I got turned around.”

“
Yeah.” He gave her a slow smile that had all her lady parts perking up and standing at attention. “We don’t get many people who start out lookin’ for the pool and wind up here,” he drawled, while wiping his hands on a rag.

She scowled. “I wasn’t looking for the pool. I was just…”

“
Havin’ a look at the property.” He smiled. He pointed to a black and green vehicle that also bore the Yellow Rose logo. “Hop in this golf cart and I’ll drive you back.”

“
I don’t want to put you out.”

He laughed out loud and shook his head. “This is the best thing that’s happened to me this year. Come on. I’ll go fast enough to get the breeze goin’ and cool you off.”

She had gone past attractive glow to full on sweat. As if on cue, she was reminded of that when she felt a trickle of perspiration run between her breasts. His promise to ‘cool her off’ caused a blush for, what she was sure was the first time in her life.

“
Well, it is hot out here,” she said, looking around as if someone might argue. Or intervene.

He looked over at the temperature gauge. “Only ninety-six in the shade. ‘Course that’s the way they report temps. In the shade. But…”, he looked down at her feet, ”…it’s really about one fifteen where you’re standin’. On that asphalt. In the sun.”

Following his eyes down to
the tarmac beneath her feet, she realized that she did actually feel as if she was slow cooking.

“
Thank you. I appreciate it.”

His grin was heart-stopping.
He turned his back long enough to open a refrigerator, withdrew a bottle of water, and set it in the cart’s drink holder when he got behind the wheel. After Garland seated herself on the passenger side of the cart, he handed her the ice cold bottle of water. “All part of the service, ma’am.”

“
Thank you.” She accepted gratefully. But as badly as she wanted to drink, she wanted to feel the cold bottle against her skin even more. She held it to her chest, closed her eyes and moaned. “You’re an angel in disguise.”

When she opened her eyes and saw the change in his expression, she realized that calling attention to her breasts may not have been the smartest move.

Brant tore his gaze from the water bottle. It may have elicited a moan that would haunt his fantasies forever, but even he knew that ogling guests was crossing a line. He wasn’t sure whether he should be glad that he’d given her a cold compress, or curse himself for it
, but the view above her neck was just as interesting. She’d removed her sunglasses and stuck them on top of her head, which left him exactly sixteen inches away from amber-colored irises that were stunning, and so unusual with her blonde locks that she looked almost exotic. At the moment they were also questioning why he wasn’t starting the engine.

He pushed the ignition button and they lurched forward. When they started down the hill, the cart picked up speed
. The air movement did cool the feeling of scorching skin. She took a big swig of cold water and laughed. “You’re right. This feels good. You could sell rides to the overheated.”

He smiled,
steering and stealing glances at the unlikely passenger and the strange, but welcomed turn his morning had taken.

“
So where to?”

“
You know where the hotel is?” He raised one eyebrow
. “Well.” She laughed. “Of course you do.”

They coasted down a hill then laughed when the cart struggled to climb up the next.
On reaching the top, the hotel came into view, sitting on a ridge as if presiding over the Yellow Rose’s five championship golf courses.

She pointed to the right of the eighteen-story hotel. “We’re in one of those villas next to the hotel.”

He whistled long and low. “So I’m guessing you’re not using a stay-two-nights-get-the-third-free coupon.”

She laughed because she had no other response, not knowing if there was such a thing or if he’d just made that up. “Oh, you know
. My father is here overseeing some business development. Told me to either come for the summer or look for a box under a bridge.”

When Brant looked over, he seemed to be studying her. He suspected that she was early twenties. So what she said about being there with her father didn’t really make sense. “You in a box under a bridge.
Can’t see that.”

“
Hmmm. Well, it cou
ld happen. You remember the story about that ex movie star who was living in the bushes in Central Park?”

“
No. I guess I missed that.”

“
You must not watch ‘Entertainment Tonight’
.”

He chuckled. “Guilty. Or not guilty. Take your pick.”

She indulged in a leisurely look at his tan profile. He had lashes so long and thick that she would think
they were fake on a woman. But she thought that, if she was reading signals right, there was nothing fake about Brant Fornight. He had an open, easy-going manner that put her at ease. Running her eyes over the dark hair that threatened to reach the ribbed neck of his tee, and following the line of his straight nose and strong jaw, she decided he could be vying for the title of the best-looking man she’d ever seen.

“
What’s your name?”

“
Brant Fornight. What’s yours?”

“
Garland St. Germaine.”

His eyes slid sideways. “Pretty name. And unusual. I don’t think I’ve ever run into a Garland before.”

“
It was my grandmother’s maiden name. The one good thing about it is that it doesn’t lend itself to cute nicknames.” She chuckled. “The closest anybody ever came to making one stick was this guy at school who used to call me Garfield.”

Brant puzzled at his reaction to that. His gut had tightened. Apparently he didn’t like getting an image of another guy calling this girl anything. Once
he realized that he would probably never see the beautiful girl with the terrible sense of direction again, he slowed the cart down as much as possible without raising suspicion.

When they reached the walk to the door of her villa, she turned toward him.
Her hesitation made him wonder if she was just as reluctant to end the unlikely encounter.

Her smile was warm, but he couldn’t tell if it was a friendly smile or an
‘I’m interested’ smile. “Well. I guess this is me.”

“
I guess so.”

“
Thank you for the ride, Brant.”

“
It was my pleasure, Garland. Whenever you get lost anywhere around vehicle maintenance, this chariot will be at your disposal.”

She grinned. “Flowery words for a vehicle maintenancer.”

“
Maybe I’m not one-dimensional.”

She stared as if she was trying to read his mind. “Maybe you’re not.”

She got out and walked to the door knowing that he was watching her rear end under the pretense of seeing her safely home. She swiped the card key and opened the door then turned to smile and wave. In return she was rewarded with a macho chin jerk that made her smile even bigger.

CHAPTER 3

Brant set the torque wrench down, wiped his hands, grabbed his keys and pulled the
bay door down. Like always, he waited until everyone else was gone so he could lock up. As he started his car, he turned his attention to what he might do with a Wednesday night. He could throw together some Hamburger Helper and watch the tube. He could grab a shower and stop by the Hawg Stop for a burger and a beer. Or two. Depending on who was there.