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He cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I’m up for it. What with my lack of technique and all.”
She bit back a grin. “Have a nice night, Fisher. And thanks again.” She picked up a bottle of cleaner and a new rag, and started wiping down the empty tables. He must have stood there, watching her, for a few more minutes because Toben yelled again before Fisher joined them at the pool table.
It was only later, when she was lying on the recliner, that she realized she might have made a mistake. Jesse had taught her how to flirt, how to get a man, but what she’d been after wasn’t their hearts. Jesse was very territorial. He’d never said he loved her, but she was definitely his. When Jesse wanted sex, it had always been awkward and quick. In all their time together, he’d never offered her sweet words, soft kisses, or taken the time to explore her body. They’d never had the opportunity to be naked—not with Shawn around. She had no business criticizing the way Fisher pursued a woman or who he should have a relationship with. She had no experience with anything real.
There was only one thing Kylee was 100 percent certain of. If Brook didn’t see how lucky she was—how great Fisher was—she didn’t deserve him.
* * *
“A RECLINER?” RENATA ASKED, laying a napkin at each place setting at the large dining table.
Fisher nodded. He’d given up pretending to his sister that he wasn’t interested in Kylee. Maybe it was the twin thing, but she always saw right through him anyway. What he needed was a sounding board. And Renata was a girl—she might be able to shed a little light on Kylee’s offer to help him win Brook, too.
He’d shared what limited information he had with Renata, desperate for some sort of insight. But his sister’s theory on Kylee and Shawn’s past had turned his blood cold—before igniting it with white-hot anger.
“If she’s spent her whole life protecting Shawn and surviving, she’s probably never had a relationship.” Renata glanced at him.
“Shawn mentioned someone named Jesse.” Fisher looked at his sister. “All he said was the name and they both locked up in fear.”
Renata sighed, shaking her head. “Poor things.”
“Don’t let her hear you say that.” Fisher grinned, admiring Kylee’s independence. “I don’t know what I was expecting. I guess I was hoping for something better than a tiny, grungy apartment. At the back of a bar, for crying out loud.” He shook his head. “They have practically nothing. A couch, a recliner and a chest of drawers. No table, no chairs, no curtains, no television.” The bright off-yellow paint job had only made the stark sadness of the place that much more obvious. “She wasn’t pulling my leg, either. She’s...content with the way things are.” When Kylee didn’t have her guard up, her face revealed a lot.
“That bothers you?” Renata asked, nudging him so he’d focus on his work.
He set a knife and fork on a napkin. “No.” He paused, straightening the utensils. “Yes. Of
course it does. What the hell have they been through to think that place is okay?” He shook his head. “Remember dad’s old workshop? Before we built the Lodge?”
Renata wrinkled her nose. “Yes.”
“The place isn’t much better than that.”
Maybe he was too accustomed to the good life. He wasn’t wasteful or self-indulgent, his parents had made sure of that. It didn’t matter that the Boones owned all the land in and around Stonewall Crossing, his father raised them to work hard and count every dollar they earned. Hell, he’d worked extra hours and odd jobs for several years, pinching pennies and living in one of the old bunkhouses so he could build the house he wanted. And he had. While he’d never thought his twenty-two-hundred-square-foot house was overly large, seeing the space Shawn and Kylee were calling home made him rethink things.
“What’s really bothering you, little brother?” Renata asked. “It’s pretty obvious you like her, so why not—”
“She offered to help me,” he said, shaking his head. “She offered to help my with my technique...so I could get Brook Marcus.”
“Brook Marcus?” Renata asked. “The new resident? Do you want Brook Marcus?”
“No,” Fisher answered. “I want Kylee.”
Renata grinned.
Fisher groaned, rolling his eyes. “Come on, now.”
“No, no, give me a minute.” Renata sighed. “You are in love for the first time. I have a right to savor it.”
“Savor it later,” he muttered. “What do I do about this Brook thing?”
“I think you should take Kylee up on her offer,” she answered immediately. His sister went back to laying out the napkins, smoothing the tablecloth into place before she asked, “Why not? You’ll get to spend time with Kylee, right?”
“I guess but—”
“No buts.” Renata frowned at him. “Time is a good thing. From the little time I’ve spent with her, she’s as skittish as one of Archer’s rescue horses. Jumpy, wary and full of fear.” She looked at Fisher. “She’s going to have scars, Fisher. I’m thinking they might be pretty deep, too. You know that, right?”
He nodded. He’d thought a lot about that. “We all do. Just some are deeper than others.”
