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Her Secret Life

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Her mouth hung open. He wanted to hug her.

“You’re serious.”

“Completely.” Made perfect sense to him. More than that, he knew it was the right choice. A woman had to get past his face, to be attracted to him—the package—for anything to work between them.

“But...what if she’s just after your money?”

That thought had occurred to him. He had to wonder about it occurring to Kacey, as well. Did she think only a woman after his money would actually ask him out? If so, he didn’t want to know.

“I’ll hope I’m perceptive enough to catch it,” he said.

Kacey stood. “I guess I should let you get back to work,” she said, watching him as she reached for her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

He was glad she held his gaze. Glad it didn’t have the chance to slide down to the slice of flat, perfect belly showing between her jeans and her sweater.

He should be used to it by now. Kacey was Kacey. She dressed in a way that showed her off to perfection.

“You still planning to head back to LA tomorrow?” he asked.

She nodded as she made her way to the door, still studying him.

As though she needed something. “You want to meet for lunch on your way home?” He’d gladly make the drive to Little’s. And would tell Diane she was going to have to take their brother shopping or something. He had a feeling, after his talk with Charlie, either of his sisters would be happy to comply with the request.

Kacey was shaking her head. “I can’t, Michael,” she said, frowning. “Lacey and Jem and I already promised Levi a trip to Uncle Bob’s.”

The famous hamburger joint had a sandbox for kids to play in.

He nodded. Disappointed. And knowing he had no right to be.

He saw her reach for the door handle. Waited for her to pull it open and be gone from his life until the next time she breezed through town. Instead, she turned back, reaching for his face. Touching his scars with fingers that were far too beautiful. Too perfect.

Instinct told him to pull back. Something else paralyzed him.

He accepted the light, tender brush against his skin that he couldn’t feel. Until she got to his chin. And up to his cheekbone. Those touches he felt.

In regions she wasn’t even close to.

Feeling his fly growing tight, he held her gaze. Wanting so much to say something to her. But before he could figure out what that was, she was gone.

Out of his life.

Back to hers.

Leaving him, once again, alone.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

SHE’D FORGOTTEN THAT LACEY, Jem and Levi had been invited to a cookout at the home of one of Jem’s employees—a foreman who’d been friends with him since college. Jem insisted Dillon wouldn’t care if they brought along a fourth. He even called the man to prove to Kacey that she’d be welcome. Lacey insisted that she was joining them.

But Kacey didn’t feel like a party. Or curious questions. She’d been bothered since leaving Michael’s makeshift office at the Stand that morning and didn’t want to take a chance that she’d miss his call or be trapped in a backyard with people she hardly knew when it came.

She needed to speak with him, to hear his voice.

To know that they were okay. Outside Lacey she’d never had a real friend. Had never realized she’d needed one.

She drove down to the beach, and because it was still light outside she got out to walk. People milled around. A couple of local families with kids in jeans and sweatshirts, searching the sand with metal detectors. A couple in sweaters, holding hands. A group of teenage girls, giggling, bumping shoulders and looking behind them as they walked.

A normal night at the local beach. But something was wrong with her. She’d felt off since she left Michael’s office.



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