Falling For Ken (Blueprint to Love Book 2) (24 page)

"Kenny. . . I'm so sorry." His heart hammered relentlessly in a futile drumbeat. Her voice had gone cold and sterile, nearly unrecognizable. She began to shiver, her eyes bright with unshed tears and it took every ounce of control Harry had not to reach out and fold her against him. Instead, he relived the same helpless rage he'd experienced that cold, stormy night– when he'd been unable to lessen the hurt that had been inflicted upon her.

"Turns out he was right. My date never planned on taking me to the prom. I was just the entertainment. After he picked me up, we stopped for several of his friends . . . and h-his girlfriend. That's when they dumped me out on the side of the road."

"I wanted to hurt him." Tentatively, Harry reached out to stroke her face. When she didn't flinch, he released the breath he'd been holding. "I'd
still
like to hurt him . . . and your father, too."

Ken raised her hand to capture his. "Fifteen years later. . . I'm finally thanking you. Your kindness that night. . ." Her voice dropped to an anguished whisper. "Do you know how long it had been? Since anyone had worried about me? Wondered what happened to me? Only Jimmy cared whether I lived or died. You were the only person who stopped– the only one who cared whether I got home safely. And I was too embarrassed to t-thank you. But I never forgot."

"I never forgot you either." Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I always wondered who you were. This'll probably sound weird . . . but I used to scan the crowds– every soccer game– I'd look for you." He shrugged, feeling faintly embarrassed. "I guess it became a habit."

The ghost of a smile twitched on her lips. "I looked for you, too. You had a State sticker in your window. I became a fan that night." She lowered her gaze. "I held on to that memory for so many years– whenever I was lonely . . . or scared . . . or ashamed. I'd think of you– rescuing me in the rain. And it carried me through another day."

Her confession humbled Harry, cleansing him. Unable to contemplate that his simple act of kindness could have meant so much to another person. It made him wonder what other actions he'd taken that had reverberated through someone's life. And the actions he could have taken . . . but hadn't. Weaving her fingers through his, he drew her close. Her lips were whisper soft, still tasting of the tears she'd shed when he brushed them with his.

"Harrison . . . please understand– when you tell me I'm beautiful . . . when you say-"

He tried not to wince over her hesitation to say the words he desperately wanted to hear. "I love you?"

She nodded slowly. "I
want
to believe you. Really– I do. But this voice in my head . . . tells me it can't possibly be true."

Instead of embracing his words, she deflected them. But discussing the issue, he realized– was a positive step. "So . . . what's it going to take to muzzle that troublemaker?"

She smiled, but the warmth didn't reach her eyes. "It's been with me for as long as I can remember."

Understanding finally dawned, as though someone had flipped the light switch in a very dark room. Before someone could hurt her, she moved out of the way. Instead of opening herself to possibilities, she ran in the opposite direction.

The only answer to a great defense was an even better offense. The only way Harry could hope to win would be an end-run around her. His actions would have to speak louder than his words.

"Did you ever think maybe we were fated to meet again?" A fleeting dimple winked in one satiny cheek and he was again blown away by her fragile beauty– and the gutsy determination that shimmered just below the beautiful surface.

"It crossed my mind," she admitted with a flicker of amusement. "But what's a Traynor doing talking about fate?"

The opportunity was too good to pass up. Scooping her up from the chair, he smiled over her startled yelp. Kissing her again, Harry savored the sweet, warm taste before his mouth drifted to her delicate collarbone. She allowed him access with a soft sigh of satisfaction. Together, they managed to push the patio door open before he staggered through it with Ken still locked in his arms. Leaning back against the door, he heard it click and nodded with satisfaction.

"You don't believe any of that stuff," she insisted, her whispered voice already ragged with desire. "You've got your blueprint, remember? Your plan."

His mouth sought the fluttering pulse in her graceful throat before trailing back up to capture her luscious mouth. His last coherent thought before he set her on the kitchen table was that impressing Kendall just might be the end of him. As she stripped him from his shirt, a satisfying tremor rippled through her when he whispered his answer in her ear.

"Because I'm the one you're waiting for." Tugging the robe from her shoulders, he pulled her satiny body against his. "I'm the . . . accountant of your dreams." Swallowing her gasp of laughter, he proceeded to remind her how perfect they would be together.

Chapter 12

Harrison Traynor
was
the man of her dreams. Kendall tried to push the thought aside. But like the man himself, he just kept coming back. She wanted so badly to believe him, had thought of little else over the next several days. It was too easy to see what life with him would be like. They laughed and talked. About important things and nothing at all. Each morning, he rose early to make breakfast before he would slip back into bed to awaken her properly- 

"Do these terms sound like what you're looking for?" The discreet cough jarred her back to the present. Thoughts scattering to the wind, Ken forced her attention back to the banker seated across the mahogany desk.

"Those terms sound fine," she assured him, wondering what she'd missed.

"You're certain this is what you want to do, Miss Adams?"

"Very sure, Mr. Baxter." She signed her name with a flourish and shook his hand. As soon as she reached the door, she dragged in a breath of fresh, sweet air. How could anyone spend their days inside when it was as nice as today?

Her mind wandered back to Harrison on the ride home from the bank, thinking of the night ahead. Evenings were spent on the deck, stargazing and holding hands. Or in the garden where Harrison drank in another lesson about the different plants she had coaxed to life. Or she played music for him. At his suggestion, she'd begun writing it down. To her surprise, instead of inhibiting her musical ability, it only seemed to enhance it. Ken's head was swimming with lush arrangements that simply begged to be developed. She had no right to feel this happy. But that didn't stop the foolish grin she knew was etched on her face.

The buyout offer for A & R was still alive. With Harrison's advice, she'd countered the first offer. She'd begun envisioning a life beyond the business she'd spent the better part of her life worrying over. The future seemed bursting with possibility, thanks to Harrison. His confidence in her seemed to magically buoy her own.

Cracking the window in her truck, she inhaled deeply of the fresh scent of summer hay. All in all, it hadn't been such a bad week. Her life was humming along . . . the pieces falling slowly back into place.

And she was in love with Harrison Traynor. For fifteen years, she'd been in love with the memory of a boy. But it was the man he'd become who'd captured her heart. In a hundred different ways, he'd shown how much he loved her. Now that she'd summoned the courage to admit the truth to herself, she planned to enlighten Harry. He'd waited patiently– smiled when she knew he was hurt by her inability to trust him. Harrison wanted to hear her say the words.

Tonight, she would take the final step. Tonight, her heart would take a giant leap of faith into his steady hands. She would finally tell him how much she loved him.

Kendall should have been thrilled.

Instead, she was terrified. Experience had taught her that when life started running smoothly, disaster loomed just around the corner. But hope was a dangerous thing. Too often it had led to disappointment. But it was there, flaring in her chest. About a future with Harrison– that they would always be happy together. Hope she could pull a miracle out of her hat and finish the dig.

Her entire crew, including Claire– had agreed to stay on without pay until she received the fire settlement from A & R's insurance carrier. She hadn't been surprised by the men of her motley crew– they'd been with her for years. But Claire's loyalty left her with a warm feeling of pride. She'd only been an employee for a matter of months.

Despite their show of loyalty, Kendall refused to wait for the insurance settlement to do the right thing. Her crew deserved to be paid. . . handsomely. They'd been working like demons. Four more weeks and she'd be substantially complete. Under the terms of her contract, she'd meet her obligation to Specialty– and to Harry. An emergency loan from the bank would float her payroll for three of those weeks. The loan would buy her twenty-one days to reach an agreement with the insurance company. And it bought negotiating time with the party interested in buying A & R.

Swallowing nervously, she avoided thinking what this latest risk would cost if she failed. Then she'd gone ahead and signed the second mortgage on her beloved Victorian.

***

"Yo– Woody. . ." Harry waited for Gigantor to acknowledge his presence. He did with a wave and a friendly smile. It was hard to believe there was a soft-hearted human inside the imposing bulk of Woody Cutler. He'd entered into a wary truce of sorts with Jimmy– and by default– with Woody.

"What's up?" He swiped a grubby fist across an equally grubby forehead.

"I'm heading out. Kendall's probably already home."

Concern flared briefly in his eyes. "She's okay?"

"I'm sure she's fine, but with Lance MIA. . . I don't want her there alone. It's tough enough trying to keep the investigation from her. If I told her she was in danger, I'd probably have to tie her down to keep her away from Lance."

A knowing grin replaced Woody's worried frown. "I don't know why you're keepin' it from her. She'd probably love to take down that jerk."

Talking about Barker made his stomach knot. Harry didn't want him within a hundred miles of Kendall. But the thought of her with a scowl on her face and revenge in her heart caused a flicker of a smile to cross his lips. "She'd take him out before the police could get him." Under the circumstances, he wouldn't want to be in Barker's shoes. Hell, he didn't want to be in
his
shoes if she ever found out.

Woody nodded. "I'll tell Jimmy you're leavin'."

Knowing the operation held little hope of success without their cooperation, Charlie's team had briefed Kendall's crew leaders on the sting operation.

"See you tomorrow." Since moving in with Kendall, Harry drove out to the site each day to pitch in with A & R's crew, doing whatever he could to facilitate the project. Always a man with a plan, Harry figured that becoming a fixture at the site could only help– with the project, with the investigation and with Ken, who'd assumed he'd taken leave of his senses.

Jimmy hadn't been crazy about the idea either. But what had started as barely restrained hostility had morphed into mutual respect. He'd pushed back against Jimmy's initial dislike– slowly winning him over. The old man had been in full agreement on keeping Ken in the dark about the investigation.

Harry was making headway at home, too. Like a tightly budded flower, Kendall was slowly, painstakingly opening up to him. She was learning he could be trusted . . . that his actions equaled his words . . . that he could be relied on. All it required on his part was an infinite supply of patience and an endless calendar.

But with the sting underway, Harry felt like a juggler with too many balls in the air. It would be terribly easy to drop one. The knowledge that Charlie's team had already dropped the most critical ball– Lance's surveillance– gnawed at him. How could they have been so careless?

Barker had already been AWOL for two days. There'd been no contact about the deal to sell A & R. Charlie's team had been so damn certain Lance would take the bait, they hadn't considered other options. With a price on Barker's head, the team was running out of time, too. No one seemed to know what to do next.

He scowled in annoyance when his cell phone rang for the hundredth time. Nearly sunset, the jobsite was still in full swing. Jimmy had rallied the troops and the crews were making more progress than he'd dreamed possible. The sooner they wrapped up this dig. . . the sooner his new life with Kendall could start.

"Traynor." His pulse quickened when Lance's oily voice interrupted his thoughts.
Finally
. Relief poured through him. If he could just keep him on the line long enough, Charlie could trace the call and find out where Barker was hiding.

"Hang on a minute. . . all my stuff's in the car."

Relief turned swiftly to panic. "No– don't hang up. You're a hard man to reach these days. Have you come to any decision on my offer?" Crossing the site in angry strides, he jerked open his car door. Tossing his hardhat on the empty passenger seat, he waited for the sleazebag to ramble his way to making a point. "What do you mean. . . don't involve Kendall? How do you propose we do that? She's the majority-"

Lance's falsetto voice buzzed in his ear, his brain taking several seconds to process Barker's  suggestion. It took another moment before the pencil he was gripping snapped between his fingers.

" Well, why– why don't you think it over." His knuckles whitened around the receiver. "Maybe we can work out an arrangement that will benefit both of us."   

His heart still pumping like a locomotive, Harry disconnected the line. Before he could stop his hands from shaking long enough to punch in Charlie's number, the phone rang. "Yeah . . . did you get that? Where the hell is he?" Hot fury pumped through his veins, replacing the icy shock of panic. "How long does it take to trace the call?" He threw the jagged stub of pencil to the ground. Dammit, he was tired of waiting.

"The bastard wants to kill her– and you're telling me to stay calm?" he shouted before glancing around the parking area and lowering his voice. He flexed trembling fingers into a fist, wanting badly to hit something.

"Barker didn't suddenly think of this idea. He's been planning it." A bolt of clarity sizzled through him, rocking Harry to the core. "The fire. . ."

Never for a moment had he believed the fire to be accidental . . . but it hadn't crossed his mind that Barker wanted anything more than the insurance payout. His grip tightened around the phone as he flashed back to his own nightmarish plunge to the bottom of the construction pit . . . just as he'd clutched the loose railing. Had the loose railing been a deliberate attempt on Kendall? Or simply a warning to sell out before something worse happened?

His heart on overdrive, Harry had the distinct certainty that Charlie's team had miscalculated badly.

Kendall
- His instincts screamed
move
and his limbs were eager to comply, already in motion as he dove into the car when he heard Charlie's muttered curse on the other end of the line.

"Dammit, where is he?" A heartbeat later, he squealed from the gravel lot, his blood icing with fear when Charlie finally confirmed his worst nightmare.

A ping from a cell tower– five hundred yards from Kendall's house.

***

Kendall jumped down from the truck, the loan papers still clutched in her hand. The driveway was empty. That meant Harrison was probably still out at the site. More amazing than getting used to his presence in her home, was the idea that he was helping out at the dig.

She shook her head as she stuck her key in the lock. Who would've thought a man like Traynor could win over a stubborn old goat like Pop? It was yet another puzzle piece that had fallen miraculously into place. For the first time in her life, the stars had aligned themselves behind her.

Just like the fire. Floyd had finally wrapped up his investigation. And while it didn't appear she was about to be sent to jail, it didn't appear likely Lance would be either. Essentially, Floyd had given up. . . finally listing the cause of the blaze as suspicious. While she was relieved not to end up behind bars by mistake, Floyd's non-committal ruling meant her insurance carrier had an excuse to delay paying her claim.

Her stepbrother had pulled his usual disappearing act. For two glorious days, he hadn't shown up at the site. Ken knew better than to believe it could last, but was grateful all the same for the break. Loving Harrison made her realize she didn't want to waste another moment of her life. She wanted to get the sale over with. The sooner they came to terms, the sooner Lance would be out of her life forever.

"Lurch? Here boy. . ." She whistled, waiting for the familiar hop-a-long footsteps to scramble through the house. Frowning, Ken took a step into the shadowed foyer. "That's funny-"

Her gaze wandering through the foyer to the kitchen, she gasped. Her brain snapped pictures while the rest of her went into shock. Broken shards of glass glittered like diamonds across her tiled floor. What remained of the shattered French door listed to one side, tilting drunkenly in the frame.

"Lurch!" Her heart hammering, Kendall passed swiftly through the kitchen, dropping her papers on the table before she ran to the door. Please God, let him be all right. Stepping carefully over the glass, she scanned the living room for signs of her dog. And where the hell was Wink? Jerking the broken door open, she ran out on the deck. Calling his name, she stumbled toward the darkening woods. She was a few steps into the trees when she heard the distinct sound of whimpering. Frozen in her tracks, she spun to the left, scanning the dusk-shrouded path. Where had the sound come from? She whistled again, waiting for a sign.

A soft, listless breeze ruffled her hair, breaking the eerie stillness. Her senses prickled, goosebumps raising on her arms. The forest felt unnaturally quiet, the swaying branches crackling with wild energy, reminding her of a looming summer storm.

"Lurch? Where are you?" The reverberation of another whimper and then three staccato barks had her body in motion toward the noise before it fell silent again. Someone or something was hurting him. She was nearly to the clearing when she tripped on a root and staggered to the ground. Her hands grasped fistfuls of moss, but her knee landed on a sharp-edged stone that scraped her skin raw.