River's Escape (River's End Series, #2) (2 page)

Ian shook his head and pursed his lips, still avoiding eye contact. “And next time, he might not take no for an answer.”

“What’s it to you?”

“I don’t relish having to kill him.”

She stepped back and Ian didn’t turn his head. His gaze was still casually scanning the dark around them and his shoulders were slouched and relaxed. Her mouth popped open. Where did that come from? “Did you say kill him?” Her voice went high with surprised shock.

“If he refuses to take no for an answer.”

“You don’t even like me.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t mean to let that out. But to discuss Ian killing her boyfriend? It was the weirdest, strangest conversation she’d ever engaged in.

His gaze traveled over her and settled on her face. “I like you just fine.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, as your housekeeper.”

“Fine. Then as my housekeeper, I won’t let you be treated like that. So stay away from Drew and spare us all the ordeal. He will try again.”

“Maybe I’ll want to.”

“Then do so. But make sure you already have that decided before you get into his car. Because after that, he won’t take no next time.”

“How would you know that?”

“Because I know him. I don’t like him.”

She shook her head. “Who do you like, Ian? I’m sure I don’t know anyone you even associate with.”

He held her stare and was silent for a long moment. His silence made the air feel heavy. It was abnormal to not try and fill the uncomfortable pauses. What was wrong with him?

“You.”

She stepped back. “Me? What?”

“Don’t be reckless. Goodnight.”

He spun on his heel, lightly taking the steps before swinging his legs over his four-wheeler. The Rydells often rode up on the ATVs or their horses to hang out here. He gunned the motor, switched the headlight on, and started down the track that crisscrossed up the hill and separated their place from the Rydells. Her mouth was still open. Hanging. She was what? Totally shocked and freaked out. She must have misheard him. Or misunderstood him. She, well, she didn’t even really follow their conversation. His apathetic conversational skills didn’t leave much too clear. He could not have meant he liked her. So what then?

She shook her head, literally trying to shake off his intense, strange, but almost flattering concern for her. It was concern, wasn’t it? What he’d been trying completely, albeit inadequately, to convey. She stepped into the front room. The light, aluminum door opened into the worn vinyl of three-foot entryway, which led into the box-like kitchen, or the small living room. She started to enter and immediately drew up to her full height. Shane was there. Ian had come with Shane. A sigh escaped her lips.

Shane had his arm loosely draped over Lauren Townsend. She lived up the valley about twenty miles. She was older than Kailynn, and nice enough, but Kailynn had to grit her teeth to keep from frowning in agony. Why did Shane always have a girl?

“Hey, Melon head, lucky date?” her brother, Caleb, asked, his speech slurred. He lay across the couch, with a hand over his forehead. Jordan sat on the floor, playing a video game. He didn’t look up or bother to notice her. Another girl, whom she didn’t know, sat rubbing Caleb’s leg, way too close to his crotch.
Gross.
As if she needed a visual demonstration of her brother’s sex life. She spun into the kitchen to grab a diet pop. “It was fine.”

Shane raised a hand up. “Beer me, Lynnie.”

Heat filled her cheeks. He didn’t raise his head to look her way, but just asked her. She quickly grabbed a can out of the new twelve-pack. No doubt, Shane brought it there. He often supplied it for her brothers. They couldn’t afford it most of the time, and Shane could. She walked over to him, trying to strut, while concentrating on not falling. Shane didn’t look up, and was actively watching Jordan’s video game as he hooted and groaned over its progress. He didn’t even pause when she handed him the can, but cracked it open and started chugging. He strained his neck, making his message clear: she was standing in his way.

She stepped back and turned around before retreating to her room. She didn’t want to watch Shane with Lauren. Her dad’s door was shut, as always. He was usually asleep at seven, and never worried about her. There was no curfew, and never had been. There was no one who noticed when or if she even came home.

Except Ian. He most definitely noticed. She threw her sweatshirt on the bed and kicked her shoes off. What was that about? Her own brothers even assumed she was off getting laid. Had Ian noticed the headlights coming into the driveway? Was it an accident or was he deliberately out on the porch?

She shook her head. It was just too weird to contemplate. Ian would not purposely check on her. There would be no reason to. She never expressed any concerns over Drew or any other man she dated, for that matter. She always had dates. They weren’t new or exciting or interesting. Why would Ian have noticed this one?

She stared at her small room and her twin bed that took up most of the floor space. A nightstand held a tall stack of books and her small closet could barely shut with all her clothes and goods. She was too old to still live at home. Yet neither she nor her brothers had any plans to move out. She doubted if her brothers ever would. Rats showed more ambition than her brothers. They sometimes worked temporarily for ranchers or orchard owners in the surrounding areas. Sometimes, they worked for Shane. And sometimes, they just didn’t work.

She slipped into her bed and a heavy sigh escaped her. It wasn’t like her life was bad. It just wasn’t… good. There wasn’t much to look forward to, or anything she loved. There was working at the café, and at the Rydells, and her free time, which she spent with other loser men like Drew Nichols. Ian was probably right, but what other choices were there? Except for Shane, there wasn’t much. And Shane wasn’t ready for her… yet. So, for now, she could fill the time with Drew. They had been dating for a couple of months. It was fun. He was handsome and funny. And a good kisser.

He just thought it was high time they had sex.

She should have done it. What exactly was she waiting for? Shane? He would probably avoid sleeping with a virgin at all costs. He sure didn’t gravitate towards them. It would be good for her to get some experience before she was with him. So why not Drew Nichols? Only… something kept her from doing it. She watched it all through high school and after, as each of her friends and acquaintances started having sex. It was a big deal at first, knowing who did it. Eventually, however, everyone did it and no one talked about it very much. No one thought of it as a big deal to the relationship. Not like she did. She had to get over that.

There was nothing special in her life, and for some reason, she decided she wanted that to be special. And the only special man she knew was Shane. But he didn’t yet see her as anything more than his friend’s little sister. He didn’t even know she was in the room most of the time.

She slammed a fist into her mattress. He was most likely making out on her couch with Lauren Townsend right now. He would sometimes saunter off into one of her brothers’ rooms to have sex with whoever he was hanging out with. She had even heard him before and it stabbed her heart as if someone were punching her chest.

Why couldn’t Shane see her? What did she have to do to get his attention? And how long was she going to waste her time on losers like Drew? When the man she most wanted was, no doubt, about to have sex in her house. With someone else. Someone who didn’t love him, not like she did. He had to discover eventually that she was the one for him, didn’t he?

THE NEXT MORNING, KAILYNN tiptoed into the kitchen to start coffee. A sigh escaped her lips. Shane lay there, sprawled over the sagging, lumpy sofa. Her cheeks burned hot as her gaze traveled over his lax body. He was a big man, tall and beefy, with a wide chest and barrels for arms. His legs bent strangely to accommodate the small couch. He snored, his mouth open, his head turned at an odd angle. His jeans were unsnapped, and revealed the top waistband of his underwear. They were black. She whipped around, and pushed a hand to her cheek.
Holy crap!
Her brothers must have stumbled off to bed at some point. Beer cans littered the small coffee table, as well as the floor. Leftover chips and crackers lay scattered over the threadbare carpet. She pressed her lips to hold in another sigh. More to clean. That’s all she did. All for naught.

She quickly added fresh grounds to the coffee maker and started scrambling some eggs. She was an adept cook. She cooked for the Rydells some times and even filled in for the cook at the café if he were sick. She turned the overhead fan on as the sizzle of eggs filled the room. She was searching for a plate in an overhead cabinet when she turned around and ran smack into a chest. She stifled a scream.
Shane.
Not having sensed he’d awoken or moved closer to her, she soon noticed one of his pants buttons was still undone. His dark t-shirt slipped up, exposing barely an inch of skin, but the blooming heat in her cheeks was instantaneous.

“Shane. I didn’t hear you.”

“Sorry to startle you, Lynnie. What you got cookin’?”

She suppressed a groan. His hair was messed up. Running a hand over his face as if to wake up, his palm rasped over his stubble of whiskers. The kitchen was small, so they were forced to be close. She wished she could lean into him, put her head on his chest, and inhale the scent of his shirt, even if he had slept in it. But Shane wasn’t looking at her; rather, he was peering over her shoulder at the pan behind her, the keen interest in his eyes aimed at the food, not at her.

“You want some?”

He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “It’s like you just read my mind. You know it, girl.”

Her heart flipped like a coin in her chest. Flashing white teeth, he shot her a lazy-eyed grin. Why couldn’t he smile at
her
like that, instead of her cooking? With what felt like a brick in her lungs, she nodded and added some bacon and sausage to the breakfast. The entire room soon filled with the aromas of hot bacon and fresh coffee. Shane lounged back against the counter.

“What happened to Lauren and her friend?” Kailynn asked, after searching for something to say. Shane just being there, and watching her, soon had her stumbling over the simplest of chores.

“Ah, the friend is with Caleb. Lauren had to get home.”

Before or after they had sex?
She bit her cheek to keep from asking such a personal question. A knock sounded on the front door, and she glanced at the clock; it was only seven. Who would come there so early? She wiped her hands on a clean dishcloth before crossing the four feet to the front door. She blinked in surprised when she found Ian standing on the porch. The blinding sunlight made her blink again.

He could have cloned himself from last night, right down to the black cowboy hat he had pulled down low over his eyes. His jeans were a dark blue, and he naturally had on his signature brown shit-kickers. Ian always wore them. Shane never did, and she loved that about him. The short-sleeved flannel shirt was unbuttoned over his white t-shirt, which fell to his mid-thighs. Last night it was blue plaid; today, however, it was checked, green and black. She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to speak. She might as well have been waiting to start menopause.

Finally, she asked, “Why are you back?”

“Shane still here?”

She opened the door wider for an answer and stepped back before returning to the stove to flip the sizzling bacon and scoop the eggs out before they burned. Ian just stood in the doorway, his hands on his hipbones, and elbows out.

“You forget you had a client today?”

Shane suddenly jerked to attention. “Today?”

“Yeah, someone waiting down at the ranch; something about his tractor. Says you were supposed to look at it and give him an estimate.”

Shane swore, and Kailynn kept her back turned. Suddenly, Shane was rushing around the small living room, scooping up his shoes, coat, and keys. “Shit! I swear I scheduled that for later.”

Ian’s mouth was a tight line of disapproval. “Try writing something down once in awhile. Not too good for business to keep missing appointments.”

Shane scowled at Ian. “I don’t need the lecture. I’m goin’.”

Shuffling out the door, his black, biker boots barely on, Shane didn’t utter a word of thanks or goodbye to Kailynn. She stared after him, her mouth open. Now what to do with the pound of extra food? No doubt, her brothers wouldn’t be up for hours. She glanced at Ian. It wasn’t like she didn’t often feed him anyway.

“You hungry?”

His gaze settled on her face. She often noticed his eyes, which were a strange color. They looked blue, but then again, not. They were so pale, it looked as if he stared too long at the blazing sun he always worked under. Kailynn thought she was way too tall for a girl, a fact she hated. But Ian was taller than her. Not many men came close to his six-and-a-half feet. He was skinny, reed thin with long arms, long, lithe legs, and a flat stomach. When he walked, his steps ate up the ground in graceful, long strides. He made her feel fat, since he was so skinny; and she was sure she outweighed him.

If Ian had smiled more, or flirted a bit, or acted at all appealing, perhaps, he could have been a handsome man, assuming one liked his type. He didn’t appeal to Kailynn, however. He was too tall, too skinny, and too red-haired. He had freckles on his face and scattered over his white arms. He wasn’t traditionally handsome, but she knew more than one woman appreciated the blend of his fair coloring with his spry, wiry build.

“Are you?” she prompted again.

He finally took his gaze off her and let it settle on the pans behind her before nodding his head. She rolled her eyes when he turned his back on her, and took a stool from the small, two-seater bar. There was no kitchen table. Not enough room for one. Just a small, Formica bar that doubled as a prep station on the opposite side of the tiny kitchenette. He slid his hat off and leaned his elbows on the counter while hooking a heel on the metal barstool.

She automatically prepared his coffee. Didn’t she know how he liked it? Black with a splash of milk and one teaspoon of sugar. She made it enough times at his house, not to mention, at the diner. Why not at her own house? Of course, he wasn’t anything special to her. She knew how all the Rydell men took their food and drink. Lucky girl, she was.

He nodded at her outfit. “Got a shift today?”

She bit her tongue to keep from commenting sarcastically at his stunning perception. Her waitress outfit wasn’t a dead giveaway or anything. She was wearing the white blouse, khaki, knee-length skirt with a red apron that signified the River’s End cafe’s uniform. She found it unusual for Ian to start any kind of conversation, even an obvious one. She slid the coffee across the gunmetal-gray Formica counter and raised her eyes to his. “Yes. In an hour.”

He took the coffee and their fingertips brushed before she jerked her hand back. There was a weird snap, like they exchanged static electricity. She straightened up off the counter, dismissing the strange sensation.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be at your place by three.” She flinched. Her sarcasm came out way too bitchy. She needed to scale it back. Ian was her boss, like it or not. All the Rydells were. The job was well paying, had good hours, and they let her come and go per her diner schedule. Who the hell was she to complain? She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I’m tired. I didn’t sleep well.”

Ian took a long drink of the coffee and his throat vibrated as he swallowed. He had a slender, white, column of a throat, with freckles dotting the skin randomly. She shook her head. Why was she… noticing that all of a sudden? It was weird. She shifted her feet and licked her lips. “I appreciate working for you guys. I really do. I didn’t mean to sound like it wasn’t a great position, because it is.” And one she, no doubt, would work at for the rest of her life; it paid that well in this valley.

“You work for Jack, not for me. I could care less if you hated it or loved it.”

“I work for all of you.”

Ian shook his head while she busied herself grabbing eggs, bacon, and hot toast that popped up from the toaster. “No, you really don’t. You’re not expected to like washing our laundry. It can’t be a pleasant chore.”

He scooped up a mouthful of eggs and bacon. She was always amazed that a man as skinny as Ian was could eat as much as an obese person would. She didn’t understand it. Nor was it fair. The man never gained weight, yet he ate more than all of his brothers. It was freaky.

She often took care of her father and brothers in the same way as she did the Rydells. Except, the Rydells paid far better. She took a plate and put the small portion of eggs she had originally planned to cook on her plate before sliding into the chair beside him. He was quiet, and didn’t make loud noises while he ate, unlike her brothers. He wasn’t unpleasant to be around. He just left her feeling… odd. She could never put her finger on who or what Ian was, nor did she ever have a clue what he thought or felt. He gave nothing away. He could hate her, or respect her, but she had no inclination either way from him.

“Will Shane miss that meeting?”

Ian shrugged and wiped a napkin over his lips. “He’d deserve to. But probably not. He shits gold, or so it seems. Lazy as hell, irresponsible as shit, and yet, he makes more money than any of us, while investing less interest or concern.”

She snapped her eyes up to his. He was still chewing and didn’t turn his head, giving his profile to her. His jaw worked, and his temple throbbed as he chewed. She never heard him talk about anyone like that, let alone, his own brother. She jerked her eyes off his face. Why was she watching him so closely? Seeing the stray strand of red hair that popped over his forehead, she had to clench her fingers to resist brushing it back.

She shook her head and suddenly pushed back on the stool. Why was she fantasizing about touching his hair? She was acting crazy today. He glanced up at her abrupt movement.

“I should get to work,” she mumbled.

He nodded. His plate now empty, he set the napkin on it and took a long drink of coffee. “Yeah, me too.”

Work for him was what today? He helped Jack with the horses, and the endless ranch chores. He did odds and ends, along with building maintenance, and was always busy, and off somewhere, doing something. But honestly, she really didn’t know exactly what Ian did. And she never knew where or when he’d show up.

He carried his dishes to the sink, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher for her, without her asking. No one did that but Ian. Ever. Not her brothers. Not her father. Not even Shane when he was over, nor any of her brothers’ other friends.

“Thank you.” He nodded as she stepped toward the front room and hunted for her purse on the floor before she came up holding it. The day was already promising to be warm. It was predicted to be eighty degrees or more, just like the last few days. Sweat already began to bead on her neck. At least, the café and the Rydells had air conditioning.

He stepped out behind her, shutting the door quietly. He wasn’t a man to stomp around, slam things, or make unnecessary noises. She liked that about him.

“Why did you drive your truck here?”

“Got some errands to run. You want a ride?” he asked as he dug around in his jeans for his keys. His truck was a silver Dodge with an extended cab and a long bed. All the Rydells drove some kind of truck or another.

“Yes.” She usually drove to the café in an old beater truck that her brothers used far more often than she did. She didn’t trust it though, as it often broke down.

The valley stretched out below them with a stacked-affect, and the bumps of mountains rose up in the distant horizon. The long, green fields of the Rydells’ alfalfa stretched like green carpet until it dropped off into the rushing, clear Rydell River. The August sky was a deep, brilliant blue. The sun shone down like a hot, gold coin. The air smelled of dust and pines. Horses spotted the horizon like specks of confetti. It was truly a beautifully stunning view. It was something to cherish, and no doubt, many others would have felt privileged just to see it. But for Kailynn, it was her daily view. Her horizon stopped at the end of the valley where the mountain range rose up. The mountains foreshortened her perspective, and she felt like they contained and trapped her. She sighed at the claustrophobic feelings she always felt in her chest when she thought about it.

She tilted her head into the passenger window to let the cool air from the vents blow over her. Idly, without any real interest, she asked, “So, what errands you running today?”

“Jack needs some things from the tack store. And I need some lumber.”

She waited a beat, then inquired, “For? What do you need lumber for? God, Ian, try to complete a thought.”

She bit her lip. She was in a downright bitchy mood. Why was she taking it out on him? He was harmless. Really. Polite and formal, he never made rude comments, called her names, or took advantage of her. He never tried to stick her head in his smelly armpit, or called her stupid, annoying names, like “Melon head,” or “Fish stick,” or any of the other awful monikers her brothers and crew used when addressing her.