If You Need Me: The Ashford Legacy, Book 1 (9 page)

“Is that why you send your parents money—because they went under?”

“They found jobs in town at the time, but two years ago
—
when I was able to send enough money from my writing to get regular deliveries from the water trucks—they reopened a smaller cattle operation. My dad calls me his partner and swears we’re going to turn a profit this year.” She smiled, thinking of her dad with his dusty boots and the sun on his faded Stetson. “My father is a prideful man and won’t let me just gift him the water. No, he’s gonna make me a cattle rancher whether I like it or not.”

“You don’t miss the ranch?”

“Heck no. I miss seeing my parents. I miss Carter, though his father was a piece of work. But I needed to live somewhere I could look out my window and see water everywhere. Of course, I can’t see it from this particular apartment, but I am walking distance from the beach.”

He frowned. “But you’ve never walked there?”

“No…but the ocean isn’t going anywhere. One day, I’ll make it there.” She said it with more optimism than she felt, because the truth was, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to make that trip. She saw the pity in Kyle’s eyes—like he could see right through her—and shame settled heavily on her shoulders like an oxen’s yoke.

“I don’t get it, Ray. Why move to the city if you never leave your apartment?”

“Where else am I going to get groceries delivered or find a dozen restaurants within a one-mile radius who’ll bring food to my door?” Rayna turned to clean a little yellow splatter from the counter with the corner of a paper towel, avoiding Kyle’s direct gaze. “Besides, living in a vibrant city makes me feel less alone—like the city itself is alive and I’m a cell floating in its body. Small, but not insignificant. I’m a part of it. And having Bratty gives me that little piece of the farm right here in the city. See? The best of both worlds.”

“But your ranch didn’t have chickens…because your mom was allergic.”

If she snapped him with a wet towel, would he feel it through those jeans? “Man, I better watch what I say around you. I have a feeling you’re taking mental audiotapes too.”

He slid his hands over her dress, just above her rump. “You’re important to me. I want to know everything. Especially about this Carter Halston character.”

“There’s not much to tell you about Carter. I never had a crush on him or anything…but we have some history, I guess you could say.” And that wasn’t a story she was going into this morning. Maybe a part of her had distanced herself from her old friend just so she wouldn’t have to think about what happened all those years ago.

“You can’t just throw that out there and then leave me hanging.”

She stepped back and poised her hands on her hips. “Oh come on. You know way more about me than I do about you. Look, I think I can do this on one hand.” She ticked off the items on her fingers. “You’re from New York. Your parents are divorced. You were raised by your dad. Your sister went to live with your mom. And Aunt Lina used to make you and Sara chocolate chip cookies.”

He stepped forward and kissed her head, then turned to scrub the egg pan. “Not chocolate chip. They were sugar cookies with chocolate sprinkles. Really, Sommers. Pay attention.”

She wound up the wet dishtowel and smacked his ass. His stiffening posture told her that, yes, he could feel it through his jeans. “No, I’m serious. What do you do when you’re not online with me? Do you have any friends?”

“Of course I have friends. My best friend’s name is Ben, and when I’m not at work or hanging out with you, I usually try to go do something with him. It seems like we’re always getting stuck at stuffy work events, but, you know…sometimes we’ll go see a movie or…whatever.”

“How did you two meet?”

“We went to high school together, and sometimes he would come home on breaks with me. His family traveled a lot.”

“Come home on breaks? Did you go to a boarding school?”

“For a while.” He turned to snag the towel from her and used it to dry the pan. “Jeez, I’m starving. Are you hungry? Seeing as I am an epic fail as a chef, I think I’m going to have to take you to breakfast.”

Either he was done talking about his past or he was really, truly hungry. Either way, she let it go. Who was she to judge him? “You are
not
an epic fail. Actually, I’d think you were too perfect if you could pull off a meal like that. Now I know you’re as culinarily stunted as I am, and it makes me feel better as a human being. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He rolled his eyes and scanned the mess he’d made. Ingredients were everywhere. Lemon juice. Worcestershire. Canadian bacon. English muffins. “But what a waste.”

She hugged him from behind, just needing to feel him near. “Not a waste. All we need is a few more eggs. I bet we can do this if we work together—and search for a recipe on the Internet.”

“I don’t think this is supposed to have chunks.” He flashed her the butter-and-yolk bowl and then began to scoop the lumpy hollandaise sauce into the trash. “We’ll need more butter, too.”

A melody began to play behind her and she turned to see Kyle’s phone next to his wallet on the counter. She leaned over and saw the name
Ashford
on the caller ID. “It says
Ashford
,” she told him. “Do you want to answer it?”

“No!” he almost shouted, still wrestling with the greasy sauce dish. He was scooping the remnants out with a paper towel and his hands were covered in buttery slime. “Shit…”

“What’s the matter?” She let the call go to voice mail.

“Nothing. I think I was supposed to heat the butter up before adding the eggs. We’ll try that next time.”

He washed his hands, and Rayna waited until he was done to ask, “Why is Ashford calling you?”

Yeah, that was nosy, maybe, but that call was a little strange. They were one of the largest companies in America. Was he past due on his Ashford credit card or something?

Kyle’s posture went tense. He dried his hands with the dishtowel, working the fabric between every finger. “I…uh…work for them. That’s who I work for.”

She leaned a hip against the counter. “Seriously? Doing what?”

“Ah…this and that.”

This and that. Here and there.
Why was he being so cagey? “I take it from that look that you’re either (a) a janitor who wears a suit to impress women, (b) higher up than you told me or (c) a hit man for Kenton Ashford.”

She thought the last part would get a chuckle, but Kyle’s laugh was little more than air forced out of his diaphragm through clenched teeth. “B,” he answered.

She paused, taking a moment to think. “So…you’re some sort of executive at Ashford?”

Judging by what she could see of his apartment on their cyberdates, even if Kyle made a great living as an Ashford executive, he wasn’t spending it fixing up his place. Maybe he sank his salary into stock options, planning for the future. “Why didn’t you want me to know this? That’s pretty basic stuff, right?”

When the phone rang again, she was about to tell him he’d better answer it if he valued his job, but it was a woman’s name. “Sara Castillo,” she repeated.

Cousin Sara? Rayna and Kyle had talked almost every day for the past three months and she’d never heard of the woman until this morning. Of course, this was the first real morning she’d ever spent with Kyle. She figured normal people who’d dated for a few months would know each other’s friends. They might even have gone out on double dates together. Sure, Kyle lived on the opposite side of the country, but was it normal that most of what she knew about Kyle’s social life she’d learned in the last few minutes?

Kyle growled and set the towel down. “I have to get this call. I’m so sorry.”

He picked up his cell and wandered into the living room, but as small as her place was, there was no illusion of privacy. “Yes?” he answered flatly.

Rayna comforted herself with the fact that if Lina’s daughter had ever been Kyle’s girlfriend or lover she must be an ex now. No sane man would use that detached tone on a significant other and expect her to stick around.

“Yeah, I saw the call.” He paused, listening. “Let him know I’ll call back in a few minutes, please.” Another pause. “I’m staying with Rayna. Yes, Sara, Bratty is going to be fine.”

If Rayna listened carefully, she could hear the rise and fall of a young woman’s voice, but she couldn’t make out any words. Another pause, and Kyle said, “I’ll probably be staying a few days. Cancel everything for Monday, all right?” He glanced at Rayna out of the corner of his eye. “And Tuesday. Uh-huh… Okay, I’ll tell her. Thanks again. Bye.”

Rayna cocked her head, raised her brows and waited.

“Sara told me to tell you that she’s ‘sending up good thoughts for Bratty’,” Kyle said, but Rayna just stared back at him. “She’s my personal assistant.”

“Really?” Sara was new to Rayna, but at least Kyle didn’t seem to be keeping Rayna a secret from the other woman.

“Yeah. She was two years behind me at Harvard, and she’s as sharp as a tack. I couldn’t ask for a better assistant.”

“So it’s not weird with you two working together? You said she’s almost like a cousin.”

“Nah. Work is work, and Sara’s never been the real dramatic or emotional type. We don’t have trouble keeping family issues and work separate.”

“And…is everything okay at work?”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “Everything’s fine.”

“Okay.” She didn’t believe him for a minute.

He came to her and squeezed her tight. “I’m going out for the eggs and butter. I’ll be back soon. Do you want to come along?”

Crap. She did want to go, because she knew he was about to call his boss, and something told her it would be interesting. But Kyle knew as well as she did that she wasn’t going all the way to the market. Not even to eavesdrop. “I thought I’d try tube-feeding Bratty while you’re gone. That way we can focus all of our energy on breakfast.”

His gaze ran the length of the cluttered countertops. “Good idea. We’ll need all the focus we can get.”

Chapter Eight

Kyle wasn’t in the best mood as he stalked down the street toward the market and dialed his old man. Kenton Ashford answered after three rings. “Why in the hell did you take the Gulfstream to Santa Barbara? You left yesterday without even notifying the security team.”

“Good morning to you too, Dad.” The elder Ashford hated being called Dad. He was
Father
at home and Kenton in the office. “And I took the Gulfstream because I was in a hurry and wanted to leave you with the Boeing in case you needed something bigger.”

“I don’t give a damn about which plane you took. What I want is an explanation for your erratic behavior, Kyle. You had the executive team in an uproar yesterday. Apparently, you received a phone call and walked out in the middle of a meeting, and now they think there’s an emergency you’re not telling them about.”

Kyle’s shoes scuffed against the sidewalk. “No. There’s no emergency. But I should tell you that I’m going forward with my plans to restructure Orien Publishing, regardless of what the executive team thinks.”

“What has gotten into you? Does this have to do with that girl?” His tone was an even mix between accusing and disgusted.

“It has everything to do with ‘that girl’. Her name is Rayna, by the way.”

“Oh, Kyle…” Kenton’s voice sounded genuinely sad. “What are you getting yourself into?”

“I don’t know what you mean. I like a girl. I’m spending time with her. That’s the normal way of things, isn’t it?”

“Kyle, wake up! I didn’t raise you to be a fool. She only wants you for your money.”

Kyle stood in front of the market, but decided to walk around to the side alley. There was no way he was going to have this conversation standing in front of the dairy section. “That’s not true. She doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Oh, she knows.” Kenton laughed, and it sounded like dusty air from an old bellows. “Pretending not to know is the oldest trick in the book. Don’t be an idiot.”

“You don’t know a fucking thing about Rayna besides her first name. She doesn’t read tabloids or scour the Ashford company bios for intel. She doesn’t know the first thing about my money and she likes me anyway. I know it must stun you that someone actually could.”

He was sure his cursing would have his dad slamming down his phone, but the man surprised Kyle by moderating his voice instead. “I wish what you were saying was possible, son, but billions change people. I’ve lived long enough to see how the world works and I’ll tell you this—I can count the sum total of women I trust on one finger.”

“I can trust Rayna.”

A pause. “You sound serious about this girl.”

“Serious as the zeros in your bank account.”

“I was serious about your mother once, Kyle.”

Kyle pushed a hand through his hair and leaned back against the red brick wall of the market. “Oh please, no. Not another Mom story.”

“You’re twenty-nine years old. How long do I have to keep protecting you from the truth?”

Kyle pushed away from the wall. “What are you talking about?”

“Patricia divorced me and got her money and never looked back. She never wanted you, Kyle. She never loved you. You were a means to an end.”

He’d heard something similar before, but it still felt like a red-hot poker to his gut. “This old story again? Next you’re going to remind me that she took Carolyn with her but left me behind. Correct me if I’m wrong, Dad, but aren’t parents supposed to convince kids they’re loved—not convince them they aren’t and never have been?”