A Great Kisser Page 17

  “Wheels are grinding,” he said with a chuckle, and tapped a gentle finger on her temple. “I can hear them.”

  “I’m used to analyzing data, extrapolating patterns, searching for clues to help hedge current and future potential against previously calculated and collected material.”

  “How is that working out for you in this case?”

  She smiled. “The applications really don’t seem to apply in this instance. It’s all very frustrating, actually.”

  “Not everything can be calculated against past data to insure future success.”

  “I think it’s the lack of current data that’s making it hard to assess what actions are best taken.”

  “That’s where gut instinct comes into play. Or winging it, as it were. Don’t you ever—in your job, or in your life—have to just go with your gut? Even if it forces you to base your decisions on something completely new and untested?

  “Yes. I don’t generally like to, but yes, sometimes you aren’t given the luxury of prolonged study.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Don’t you think, though, that gathering more information before making a judgment call one way or the other, helps to prevent—”

  “Sudden losses? Failure? Otherwise known as getting hurt?”

  She nodded, then pointed to herself. “Remember, planner.”

  He smiled. “It might, but sometimes it just is what it is. Time doesn’t always play a role with instinct. Or impact at what point you know what you want. And once you do, can you really slow it down? The instinct to go after something you want? Be it a relationship, a job, whatever. You might pretend to pace yourself, or make yourself not take the leap, because you want to be more certain, or even for appearances’ sake, but that doesn’t stop the urge to leap in the first place. It’s just…there. Whatever arbitrary rules you put on it, isn’t really stopping it from being there.”

  “No, I guess not. But, by nature, I keep a lot of that part of the process to myself until I know more.”

  “I do, too. Makes sense. Self-protection is smart. I can pretty much say I’ve always operated under that code. Probably too much. I might have missed out a few times because I was being too cautious, despite what I was feeling, what I was wanting. No one wants to be wrong, or rejected, or hurt.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But you can’t win if you don’t play.”

  “And life offers no guarantees,” she added. “I know.”

  He cupped her face with his hand. “So…I’m playing. And I’m letting you know, I’m in. If that makes you want to pull the shields up and batten the hatches, do whatever you have to do. And if you want to leap, do that, too. I’ll hold your hand and leap with you.”

  “Doesn’t that unnerve you? Just a little? Don’t you think it’s probably just initial attraction and chemistry? When you get to know me, there are a thousand reasons why you might wish you’d never leaped.”

  “And I won’t get to learn a single one if I don’t take the chance and jump in.” He tugged her closer. “And yes, it’s the most unnerving thing in the world. It’s also damned exciting. It’s…well, it’s a lot like taking off for the first time, and wanting to stay up there as long as you can to enjoy every last bit of the rush. You don’t think about the landing, not the first one, because you don’t want to ruin the high of it. You’ll come down eventually. You have to. And it will either be devastating, and horrible. Or it will be a soft touchdown and all you’ll be thinking about is getting back up there again. And the more often you touch down smoothly, the more confident you are about getting back up. It’s addictive and it never gets old.” He rubbed his thumb over the corner of her mouth. “Some things, the best things, never do. That I do know, and that I believe. I’ve just never found it in a person before.”

  “What are the chances you will now?”

  “Haven’t a clue.” His eyes twinkled as the skin crinkled at the corners. “But…this is more,” he said simply. “So, I sure as hell am going to do what I can to find out.”

  Lauren felt like she was grabbing onto the tail of a comet. Like she was about to take the ride of her life. He was right, it was both a terrifying and exhilarating rush. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  “Good. Let’s hope it only takes knowing one.” His grin widened further. “Me.”

  Chapter 11

  He had completely and totally lost his mind. It was the only explanation, really. He’d only just met her and there he was, spouting ridiculous amounts of bullshit, which, if he could honestly say it was for the greater good of getting laid, he wouldn’t be that upset with himself for having spouted. But no…he’d actually meant every single goddamn word. And he hadn’t planned on saying any of them. Because…who would plan on saying all of that? Out loud? He’d gone totally around the bend. Altitude sickness. Something. So what if he’d lived his whole life at eight thousand feet? Maybe the thin air was just now catching up to him.

  He glanced over at the woman sitting next to him and wondered what she’d think if she could peek inside his head at the moment. Relief, probably, that he really wasn’t as loco as he’d sounded now that he had come to his senses. It was to her credit that she hadn’t fallen in some kind of swoon, listening to him spout off, but what did it say about her that she hadn’t flown out the door, either, finding anywhere else to be but with the touchy-feely nutjob who’d just gone all Dr. Phil on her?

  Maybe it says that she’s cautious, but willing to take you at your word…and think about it. A rational, sane woman, giving you the benefit of the doubt that you really, truly believed what you were saying.

  Crap.

  If she’d taken off, then he could kick himself for being an idiot and not taking her to bed first. And then he’d have gotten over it, as he did with all life’s disappointments, and gone back to the business of, well, doing business. But no. She’d stuck it out. Neither swooning or running screaming. Being, in fact, exactly the type of woman he thought she was, which was the exact kind of woman who’d inspired his little “I like you I really really like you” speech in the first place.

  So…what in the hell was he supposed to do now?

  She caught him glancing and smiled. And his heart did that thing it did when she looked at him like that. His heart had never behaved like that. Not even when he thought undressing Jenny Kistlinger, twenty-one-year-old college senior, was the best thing an eighteen-year-old high school senior could ever hope to do in his whole entire life, had he felt this particular brand of butterflies. And he was older now, far more experienced—thank God—and knew better than to feel any such sort of fluttery little feelings. Horny feelings, yes. Twinges of affection, even deep affection, certainly. He’d even fancied himself in love a time or two. But not…whatever the hell this was. And not five seconds after meeting.

  He glanced back at the road. “So, you want to talk about the articles?” Real life, that was what he needed. To get his head out of the clouds and back on real-life issues. Like talking about why she was in Cedar Springs, reading everything she could get her hands on about any business dealings concerning her new stepfather. Not the myriad of political moves and public announcements, interviews as mayor, and things like that. What she’d pulled had to do with the handful of times Arlen’s personal business had made it into the news. And, given some of his connections, it was only surprising he didn’t land there more often.

  “Well, the bare bones basics are that I hadn’t quite given my blessing to my mom and Arlen—not that they need it—but I was worried. About my mom, about why she made the choices she did, how it all came about. How it came to be Arlen.”

  “You said your talk today helped?”

  “It did. A lot. There were things about her…about what she wanted in her life, what she didn’t want any longer, that I didn’t know. I do now, and a lot of things make more sense.”

  “Except?”

  “Except her choice in husband.” Lauren lifted her hand. “I’m not trying
to insult your mayor, although I know I am, but…”

  “It’s okay. It might ease your mind to know he’s not my favorite person. Or maybe it will make you more worried. Nothing horrible, I should say up front. We just don’t see eye-to-eye on a few things.” Lots of things, actually, but he didn’t elaborate. Yet.

  “That’s a little part of it, or was initially. From what I’ve learned about him, just politically, I’m surprised my mother doesn’t feel the same.”

  “Do you all usually share the same opinion? About politics, men?”

  “Hardly, but this isn’t about her agreeing with my point of view. This is about me knowing her point of view—on both men and politics—and wondering how it meshes with someone like the man she chose to very suddenly marry and change her entire life for.”

  “In that context, I’d be concerned, too. What do you want to know? I’ll try to be impartial, and I’ll let you know when I can’t be.”

  “Which is more than fair. Thank you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Okay.” She shifted in her seat so she was facing him. “I did a lot of digging into his political career when I heard about their elopement, but other than being surprised by the fact that they’re not exactly on the same party page, there wasn’t anything else there that caught my eye.”

  “Have you thought…and no insult intended, but your reservations came before you’d even met him.”

  “Yes, they did, but they weren’t automatic, if that’s what you mean, because he married my mother. I’m not the overprotective, spoiled only child here, although I definitely don’t want to see my mom get hurt.”

  “Is she prone to making rash, potentially harmful decisions?”

  “Never.”

  “Well, then…”

  “As I said, given that, it was shocking when I got the call. But, even then, it was just shock, not a condemnation. But then she started to describe this man she’d run off and married, after being a single widow for a very long time—and trust me when I say she’s had many opportunities to change that status, and I encouraged her to get out and find someone.”

  “So, what triggered the protective daughter part to come out?” He glanced at her. “I didn’t say overprotective; there is a difference. A good one, in your case.”

  “Thank you. Well, of course I was curious, to say the least. Then I listened to her talk about him and there wasn’t really this gush of lust or a rational explanation, it just…I don’t know. It was kind of odd. So I started doing a little research. Given we were both in politics, I had some access that others might not have and I pulled some strings and favors.”

  “And?”

  “Well, I found the opposite politics aspect kind of confusing, and I can’t say that I liked the man based on either his politics or what I got to read and see of him in action as the mayor. Mostly, it all just really stumped me. And I’m not paranoid or suspicious by nature, but my job has certainly put me in the position, constantly, of having to vet every new situation and extrapolate what the dangers might be. So I know I’m predisposed to seeing things that way. I really tried to be objective, but—”

  “You just didn’t like the guy your mom abruptly married and you wanted to figure out why.”

  “Exactly. So I went to my mom and talked to her about it. We’ve always been really, really close, so—”

  “Did it hurt that she got married and told you after the fact?”

  “I—well, it was surprising, of course, shocking really, but no, if she was deliriously happy and the man she married was in any way to her like my father was—”

  “They had a good marriage?”

  “A great one. One for the ages. It was, in large part, why she never remarried.”

  “But you wanted her to.”

  “Of course I did. I mean, I wanted her to be happy, and if that was something that would, then yes, I absolutely pushed for that. I loved my father and we were very close. I went into law because of him, and my grandfather. But he was gone, and I’m not the sort who believes you should wallow. So I nudged, I pushed, I even set her up a few times.”

  “So, it’s really just about Arlen, then.”

  “Well…yeah. I want to like him. I do. I want to be on board with this relationship. I am on board with the fact that it clearly makes my mother happy, but to be honest with you, in person I haven’t seen even the tiniest inkling of what they see in each other. It’s not even obvious they’re in love with each other, much less newlyweds. And…meeting Arlen in person didn’t…well, it didn’t really change my opinion of the guy. Something about all of this just doesn’t seem right and I don’t know why.”

  “Does your mom know you still feel this way?”

  “She knows I’m happy for her, and we’ve mended most of the fences that got torn down, heck, destroyed, over the past six months over conversations we had about the marriage and my concern for her.”

  “I’m glad you’ve patched that part up, and if your gut isn’t good with Arlen personally, or them together, then maybe you’re doing the right thing in trying to figure it out for yourself.”

  “They’re going to be together, so yes, I need to come to terms with him. I don’t want to make things difficult for my mom, and I don’t want to have to pretend not to feel odd whenever I’m in the room with him.”

  “Odd how?”

  “I don’t know. He just…he looks at me. Not in a perverted sense, just…like I’m being studied. It’s unnerving. And well, he’s kind of a blowhard, in that used-car-salesman kind of way that doesn’t endear me.”

  “And, I suppose, makes you wonder why in the hell it would endear your mother.”

  “That, but even more odd, to me, is that she doesn’t seem particularly endeared to him, either. It’s just…”

  “Odd,” Jake asked with a smile, earning one from her in return.

  She nodded. “So…I just feel I need to keep trying to figure it all out. It’s…off. For me. He’s off.”

  “And if you figure it out, do you plan to share it with your mom?”

  “I don’t know; I guess it depends on what conclusions I finally come to. It might just be that I don’t like the guy and can’t figure the two of them out, and if that’s what it is, I’ll have to deal with that on my own.”

  “But you think there’s more.”

  “I—I guess, yes, I do. There just has to be. At least that’s what my gut tells me. I need to know, need to figure it out. What ‘it’ is, I’m not sure. And maybe I’ll never feel right with it all. But I’m going to at least dig until there isn’t anything left to find.”

  “So…what do you want to know from me?”

  “First, I want to thank you,” she said.

  “For?”

  “For listening, hearing me, not judging me.”

  “I understand why you’re doing what you’re doing. You’re confused by something that makes no sense to you. You don’t want to hurt your mom, but you don’t want her to get hurt, either. Why wouldn’t I understand that?”

  She smiled. “Because I’m still trying to figure it out, but just putting it all into words has helped a lot.”

  “Good,” he said, and found that he meant it. He wanted her to figure things out. In fact, he was kind of curious now, too. “So, what can I tell you that might shed some light?”

  “I know almost all of his political background, but what do you know about Arlen’s personal business? His personal life? I know some of the general parts—”

  “You know about his family connections?”

  “I know he was married to a local heiress and, from what I read in the papers I got from the library, I know her family played a large role, or seemed to, in his rise up the ladder here.”

  “That is definitely true.”

  “Since she passed away, which was almost twenty years ago, from what I read, he and his former in-laws have remained cordial, and the Covingtons have had some business dealings with Arlen, but—”

 
“They are careful to keep business business, and in that family, it’s all business.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Covingtons run the largest ranch in central Colorado, which, if you saw any of the spreads as you flew out here, you know is saying something. The resort owners here have a pretty good stranglehold on commerce in Cedar Springs, and if the resort isn’t successful in bringing in the vacationers year-round, skiing in winter, golf and fishing in summer, then a large part of the town’s commerce would shrivel up. Used to be that mining, ranching, and logging made up most of the commerce out here, but in Cedar Springs, it’s ultimately the resort now that keeps the town afloat. So while the Covingtons have enormous pull, both politically and financially, they are careful in how they leave their footprint.”

  “Do they also rely on the resort being a success?”

  “Not really, but neither do they want to do any harm to Cedar Springs.”

  “So, what does that have to do with their dealings with Arlen?”

  “Well, Arlen was the one who reunited them with their lovely only daughter, who, story has it, ran off to the West Coast to pursue her dreams, much to the disapproval of her family.”

  “I read that she and Arlen met when she worked on his campaign in San Francisco, for councilman I think.”

  “Yes. He’s from a suburb of San Francisco originally and still has a few business interests there I think. He had run for town council, that sort of thing, but he wasn’t moving up the ladder maybe as fast as he wanted to. Then he meets Cynthia Covington, oldest daughter of a very old, very wealthy cattle and mining family. He was an okay businessman, but it’s a big city and he didn’t have the family name or backing. Blue-collar background with both his parents, which he plays up big during election time, especially in these parts, but wasn’t helping him with the blue bloods and the like in California.”

  “So, his aspirations were bigger and he thought she might help him achieve his goals.”

  “That’s the generally accepted view.”

  Lauren glanced at him. “Meaning? Was it her, personally, or just her bankbook, that was the lure?”