Falling For Ken (Blueprint to Love Book 2) (9 page)

"So, look who's finally decided to show up. And you wonder why we have financial problems."

Ken glanced at her watch. With the eventful morning, she was indeed late. Raising her gaze to the sneering eyes of her stepbrother, her stomach tightened with both anger and dread. "This from the guy who works three days a week."

"Unlike you, I have other business interests besides this dump." Pushing into her office, he flopped into the chair across from her desk. "You give any thought to what I said?"

"What's to think about?" She forced her gaze to the window, avoiding the serial-killer eyes buried in a bloated, fleshy face.  

"Look, Sis. This place is headin' into the toilet. We both know it. Let's save our asses and get outta Dodge before you're left holding the bag."

"You own twenty percent of this mess." 

"Yeah. I'll be sure to stick around for that." He began chortling.

Kendall's face heated. Without doubt, Lance would walk– free and clear.

"Look, idiot– I can't sell without you and vice versa. Unless one of us gets hit by a bus . . . we're stuck together." He examined his grubby nails before returning his attention to her.

"That's not a bad idea," she muttered.

"Yeah, I thought so, too." 

"I'm not selling, Lance. So if you're not going down with the ship, I suggest you run home and see what other assets you can bleed out of my father before he realizes what a scumbag you are."

The chair tipped over when he stood. No longer laughing, Lance's eyes flashed fury. He lunged around the desk. "Don't mess with me, bitch or I'll make you sorry."

"You're threatening me?" Kendall held her ground, praying he couldn't see her heart pounding through her shirt. Instead, she took a step closer, running her gaze over him as though he were a pile of garbage. "Because I don't take kindly to threats."

When he raised his fisted hand, her eyes widened. Dang– she might actually be in trouble.

"Kenny. . . I need you to-" When Jimmy entered her office, Lance lowered his arm. Shooting a glance to her burly foreman, she shook her head. Jimmy had probably been eavesdropping outside her office door. If it were possible to dislike Lance more than she, what Jimmy felt was pure loathing.

"I believe we're through here," she dismissed, her voice icy.

"Not by a long shot, hon." Rounding the desk, he shoved Jimmy out of the way, muttering as he stalked out.

"Thanks, Pop." She sank down in the chair, her limbs shaking. "I owe you."

"Why don't you let me beat the tar outta him, Kenny? We've been savin' a corner of the parking deck just for him. The concrete guys hate him, too."

Kendall smiled, her heart sinking. "As much as I'd enjoy that, it won't solve our problems." She scanned the bustle of construction activity from her window and turned to question him. "Everything going okay?"

"Yeah. When you get a minute, hike over to the east quadrant. There's somethin' I wanna show you."

"Give me twenty minutes."

Her foreman left, shutting the door softly. Ken tried to remember the last time she'd enjoyed coming to work. She'd grown up with the knowledge she would run the company one day. For three years, she'd enjoyed the challenge of making the business her own. Until Lance arrived. Since then, each new day drained her spirits a little more.

She kneaded the base of her skull where the familiar pounding had already begun. Half the guys on her crew had been there since high school. They'd never worked anywhere else. Where would her employees go when she shut down? The staff at Adams & Rey were like family– accustomed to her easy style. Her loyalty. Many of them wouldn't be hirable at another firm. In a tight labor market, no one would want her motley crew.

Hot tears clogged her throat. She was out of options. The realization hit her like a blow. Worse, she was out of time. Woodenly, she walked to the door and flipped the lock. Drawing the blinds on the window, she returned to her battered chair and sank down to a chorus of squeaks. Then she laid her head on the blotter and cried.

***

Hearing a vehicle approach, Harry hobbled to the window. Kendall hopped down from the truck, tossing her hard hat on the passenger seat. His interest piqued, he watched her peel off a dusty work shirt and toss it on the hood.

"Jeez." His brain registered the skimpy tank top Ken wore underneath. The simple cotton fabric clung to breasts he knew approached perfection. Her hair was woven into a braid that trailed down her back. Standing near the truck with her eyes closed, long, slender arms stretched to the heavens, Harry was again struck by her subtle beauty. She radiated strength and softness at the same time. All that energy bound up in an explosive firecracker.

His gaze followed the graceful flutter of her hands until they reached her neck, absently kneading the spot that seemed to house her stress. He experienced a stab of guilt, acknowledging he would soon add to her turmoil.

When Kendall turned, he stumbled from the window, hastily conjuring thoughts of Deborah. Willowy and graceful, a lawyer on the fast-track, she worked hard to be witty and well-read. All assets in the blueprint he'd mapped of his future. Along with the perfect wife were two children, preferably a boy and girl. He'd been an only child– and he wouldn't have wished it on anyone. Since meeting Lurch and Wink, Harry had added a pet to his plan– dog or cat, but certainly not both.

So why was his heart hammering like a teenager's over an obstinate, backhoe-driving flutist? Until now, his vision of the perfect woman had been reedy and gentile, with alabaster skin and a mysterious smile. Kendall's sun-kissed face was not the one sketched on his plan. Her supple body wasn't the one he envisioned holding at night. She had freckles, for God's sake.

Whistling as she trudged up the steps, Harry smiled despite his rising panic. She was just so damn sweet. His smile dissolved when he thought of the approaching conversation. Though his decision was strictly about the numbers, his stomach wrenched at the thought of hurting her. The end result was
he'd
be the one putting her out of business.

He'd hobbled back to the dining room by the time the front door opened. "I'm in the kitchen."

"I figured you'd be sleeping." Dropping a disorganized pile of folders on the farm table, she flopped into a chair. "Wanna take a look?"

"Why don't we eat," he suggested. "I made lunch. It's in the refrigerator."

Her expression revealed surprise. "You shouldn't be on your feet."

The sharp pain in his ankle acknowledged the truth of her statement. But he was tired of sleeping. Tired of her waiting on him– especially now. When he knew what he'd be forced to do. Hobbling to the counter, he rested his leg, relieving some of the weight.

"Now, this I've got to see," she murmured.

"It's not much," he qualified. "Not like what you make."

Kendall's smile seemed to light her whole face, her pleasure at the small surprise evident in her eyes. "I'll help you carry it to the table."

Harry pulled out a tray of sandwiches and the vegetables he'd discovered after hobbling through her garden. He'd spent the last hour slicing up a bounty of treasures she'd somehow managed to plant and nurture while running her construction business.

His knee buckling caught him by surprise. Kendall's eyes widened when the platter shifted and she lunged forward to catch it before it toppled to the tile floor. In one fluid motion, she turned, slid the tray to the counter and turned back to catch him as he stumbled.

"You did too much." Her voice was muffled against his chest as she absorbed his forward motion.  

Pain nearly as bad as the first night shot through his ankle, forcing him to lean heavily on her.
Could he be any more useless?
"I think– you may be right."

"Let's get you to the table. Then I'll get your pill and you can take it with lunch."

Perfect. The woman whose life he was about to destroy comes to the rescue again. "But the files-"

Ken glanced up and smiled. "They'll still be there when you wake up."

Three-legged hobbling to the table, she gently pushed him into a chair. Flustered and frustrated, he was out of breath again. When the hell would his strength return? Her refreshingly honest eyes level with his, she lowered him to the chair. Steeped in regret, Harry avoided her sympathetic gaze. Her face only inches from his, he realized he was still clutching her waist.

"You okay?" She brushed his forehead with her fingertips. "You're a little warm."

Her touch jolted through him. "I– I'm fine," he choked out. Or would be, once she backed up a few steps. Her whiskey-soaked voice slid over his senses, firing visions of her . . . them. A darkened room. The scent of warm skin, sunblock and flowers was suddenly clogging his brain, making him dizzy. He was so damn aware of her he could barely breathe.

"Are you sure?"

Today, her eyes appeared hazel, ringed by an amazing shimmer of gold around the pupil. Her expression was one of confusion. The cute freckles Harry swore he didn't like, fanned out over her cheekbones. His gaze dropped to her bottom lip, fascinated by the way she'd captured it nervously between even, white teeth.

"Kenny." Releasing her waist, he reached up to trace the contours of her face. His erratic heartbeat accelerated when she startled. Her pupils flared with desire and an emotion he would have described as utter bewilderment.

"Harrison– I'll . . . um . . . you know– get the tray-"

Before she could escape, he leaned in to capture her mouth. Helpless to stop himself, Harry brushed his lips against hers. Absorbing the shudder that swept through her, he tugged on the full bottom lip that had tortured him all night. She opened to him on a murmur of surprise. Heat surged through his veins as he took the kiss deeper. Stroking her warm, sweet mouth, he groaned when her tongue tentatively met his. Driven by a desperate need for more, he pulled her into his lap.

And was floored.

Kendall was warmth and sunlight. She was laughter and teasing passion, rolled up in a walloping kick of arousal that left him wanting so much more. He'd never tasted anything sweeter or more perfect, never wanted anything as much as he wanted to kiss her again.

"H-harry." Her soft, sensual whisper quickened his already galloping heart. He wanted . . . more. In the space of a heartbeat, his mouth covered hers again. Arched against him, Kendall wrapped her arms around his neck. Her tongue dancing against his, Harry went slowly crazy. Tentative at first, she became as ensnared in the sweet sensation as he was.

The combination of innocence and reckless enthusiasm inflamed a raw need to experience more. How could one simple kiss be so incredible? Balanced in his lap, her lithe body pressed against his erection. Shocked by the raw intensity of his desire, Harry wanted to lower her to the kitchen floor and make love to her until Ken's smoky voice moaned his name. Until her beautiful topaz eyes glazed over with desire for him. Until he quenched the inferno torching him.

Instead, he drew back, dragging in a shaky breath while he fought the compelling urge to kiss her again. Stunned by the enormity of his action, regret lanced through him. He just wasn't sure whether it was over kissing her or stopping. His gaze remained riveted on Kendall while he dragged much needed air into his lungs. His brain refused the sputtering attempt to jump-start,  too focused on the flustered beauty still clinging to him.

Her dreamy, amber eyes glittered with confusion and unspent passion, her sweet, sexy mouth bruised and trembling with reaction. She'd been awakened. To a desire Kendall kept hidden from the world– perhaps even from herself.

Mine
. The wave of possessiveness caught Harry off guard when it rocketed through his chest. His brain was functioning again, because panic began seeping through the hazy cloud of pleasure.
What the hell had he done
? That was no simple kiss. His body still throbbing with awareness, his chest hurt to breathe.

How had he allowed Ken to get to him? And where had his sense of responsibility gone? His goal was protecting Specialty– even if that meant ruining Kendall. He couldn't back down if he'd wanted to. Specialty wasn't his company to risk.

But if there was even a slim chance A & R could be saved, Harry owed her the diligence of his best effort. Instead of kissing her, he should be analyzing her cash flow. Instead of allowing her false hope, he should maintain a professional distance. Instead of wishing he could tear Kenny's clothes off and make love with her on the table, he should be focused on their mutual business problem.

His confusion must have shown in his eyes because Kendall's flared with panic and something akin to shame. Her hands froze on his shoulders before she launched away from him, still trembling.

"Kenny, wait-" 

"I-I have to. . . get b-back to the site-" Golden eyes burning in her too pale face, her shock set in– vibrating out to encompass him. Making Harry feel even worse for what he'd done.

"Please, Ken . . . we need to talk. I-I had no right to do that."

"It was a mistake, okay?" she interrupted. "I know this doesn't change what you have to do."

"Why I'm here has nothing to do with kissing you." His voice tightened with anger. How could he have been so stupid? "You're so pretty . . . but- Hell, I just should've tried harder."