Where It All Began (Phoenix Falls Series)

“So Kaleb showed up, huh?”

Spoken with the confidence of a man not within shooting distance. I grip the cell phone that my dad’s voice is trickling in through tighter in my right hand, fantasising about it being his neck. He has royally fucked up my summer plans.

I flash my eyes over to my two unwanted bodyguards. Kaleb splayed across the couch, checking the TV guide. Madden lifting the unopened soda to his lips, his eyes boring into my own. When our gazes meet he suddenly pushes the top of the bottle beneath a sharp white canine, bites off the lid, and then spits it into his free hand.

Good God. I turn my back to him and speed-walk to the back of the kitchen.

“Nothing a pistol can’t fix.” My voice is shaking.

Papa breathes a laugh down the line. “Keep him in check will you? Your mom and I count on you, you know.”

Huh? I don’t even bother hiding my confusion, irritation, rage.

“What kind of logic is that?” I hiss. “You made him come back here to look after me.” I hook my fingers in air-quotes around the phrase “look after” because it’s Kaleb that we’re talking about here.

“Pumpkin.” Stern. “You know that isn’t why he’s there. We trust you completely, and we know that you’re not a kid anymore.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” I mutter, exactly like a kid would.

The authority in his voice takes a turn, going from Corporal Officer to Sergeant Major. He isn’t joking around anymore. “You know what I’m talking about, Kit.”

A deafening silence follows.

Phoenix Falls is as small and towny as a small town can get, so here at the ranch, being located even farther from civilian life, everything is more quiet, more suspicious, more wild.

“He’s there to look after you in case of any incidents, that’s all. You have my word.” There’s a gruff finality to his tone.

Incidents like wild animals? Rival ranch hands? Or is he talking about incidents of a different variety?

I peek over my shoulder, a soft waterfall of silky black hair slipping from around my collarbone and gliding down my back, and there he is, staring right back at me. He takes me in with an unhurried perusal, Kaleb across from him completely oblivious, and he grinds his knuckles against the dark stubble on his jaw. The rough scratchy sound causes a little shiver to ripple in my belly and Madden senses it like an animal would. When our eyes meet again there’s a heated gleam beneath the surface.

Definitely incidents of a different variety.

“He’s gonna be doing the work though, right?” I try not to sound like I’m begging.

“He’s been told to take on as much as he can handle, and I trust that he’ll honour that.” Hmm, no comment. “No guy in their right mind would let his little sister take the brunt of a manual labour job, so I expect he’ll be doing most of the hours.”

Every cloud. Sometimes I don’t mind small town sexism.

Sadly, I think that my thoughts transcend down the wire because he then adds, “And you will be doing your share of the work too, Kit.”

I narrow my eyes. “But he’ll be doing more.”

He gives me a parental chuckle. “Don’t work him too hard, Pumpkin.”

I am going to work him like a husky.

“I’ll call you once your mom’s finished her first comp, okay? Tell Kaleb that we said hello.”

It’s only once I’m outside after the line goes dead that I realise the one thing I forgot to mention.

My second unwanted bodyguard.

*

There’s an unfamiliar bag sat on the landing outside of Kaleb’s room. I toe it cautiously with the tip of my flip-flop and then sweep my eyes over to the spaced-out beams in the gallery corridor’s balcony panelling, contemplating punting the bag through with one quick boot.

“Do it.”

A deep masculine voice hits me from behind and I practically jolt out of my shorts as I whip around to face him.

He’s leaning against my bedroom door and his eyes are a taunting twinkling all-pupil black. My gaze flickers between his growing smirk to the room that he’s resting against, and I take a shuddering inhalation as I try to stamp down on my hormones. For one moment he looks confused but then the realisation dawns as he puts two and two together. He’s been to the cabin many times before and he knows which room he’s leaning against. His grin widens.

“Neighbours, huh?” he asks, taking a small step forward. Slowly, like a serial killer. “This oughtta be cosy.”

I downplay his confidence. “Surely Kaleb isn’t having you room with him. There are plenty of other places that you could crash.”

He gives his lip-ring a flick. “Such as?”

“The barn?” I suggest lightly.

We both glance at it through the window behind me. A piece of timber panelling slides slowly to the ground, then a small dust cloud poufs up around it.

When I face him again he seems to be even closer than before.

“I can think of a better location,” he murmurs, voice husky. He gently nudges his temple against the pane of my bedroom door.

I bristle like a porcupine.

“Don’t talk like that.” I step around him until we’ve completely swapped places, this time with the breadth of a prairie between us.

He looks glumly down at his carry-on, then gives it a shove in the direction of my room.

“No,” I command more firmly.

He holds my gaze for one long lingering moment and then his eyes trail down my body like maple syrup – slow, saccharine, and stuck in places that they shouldn’t be.

“I haven’t forgotten, you know.” His voice is low and rough as he moves infinitesimally closer. Even with his temple resting on a tilt against Kaleb’s door he’s still standing over a foot taller than me, and the intoxicating heat radiating from the wide planes of his chest is almost lulling me comatose. “I was there that night, remember?”

I peep in the direction of the gallery banister to ensure that Kaleb is still outside finishing up with the cattle, and then whisper back, “And nothing really happened that night, remember?”

He blows out a hard exhalation. “This is how you’re gonna play it?” he asks, his expression displeased.

When I don’t respond, he shifts so that his acre-wide shoulders are bridging the gap from one side of Kaleb’s doorframe to the other, his head dropping backwards with a dull thud against the panel. I watch the heavy roll of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.

“I’m not bunking with your brother,” he says, dry amusement undercoating his deep voice. “That bag’s just full of band shi-”

He stops himself short and quickly glances in my direction. For a moment I’m confused, but before I can comment he grunts and rephrases. “The bag’s full of band stuff. I’m sleeping in your guest room.”

I still haven’t quite come to terms with the fact that we’re going to be sleeping under the same roof for the next few weeks, and I have to shift my body weight to try and disperse the throbbing sensation in my tummy.

He notices.

“It’s cosy down there,” he continues gruffly, his gaze slow-dripping down my torso until he reaches my shorts. “You can come anytime.”

White hot rage explodes in my brain.

I can come anytime?! I am not having a summer filled with innuendos to edge and torment my already insatiable post-teenage lust – I simply refuse. Determined to show him how no-nonsense I intend to be, I propel myself forward and shove my palms into his chest.

Jesus Christ, is he made of marble? Madden doesn’t move a millimetre. He suppresses a grunt, then shoots me a warning look.

“Don’t give me that look,” I snap. “You think we’re about to rekindle a teenage blip from two years ago whilst you’re staying in my cabin with my brother? Not happening. So if you’re here to pester me about what could’ve been-”

“Let me fill you in,” he bites out, shoving himself off of Kaleb’s door and backing me up into my own.

With my ass pressed hard against the wood and nowhere further to go, I fold my arms resolutely and jut my chin in defiance.

“I’m here so that you don’t get sliced, diced, or murdered whilst your parents are away. If you don’t want to sneak around then-” He pauses for a second, rolling his bottom lip into his mouth. I cock a brow at him and his eye twitches. “Then that’s fine,” he chokes out, his chest heaving unsteadily. “But don’t for one second think that I’m letting you out of my sight.”

I’m so bemused that I’m almost laughing. “Are you kidding me? As if I don’t contend with this shit enough already when it comes to my parents and Kaleb, now you want to roleplay as a surrogate brother too?”

His mouth lifts slightly at the corner. “Trust me, I don’t want to be your brother.”

He glances quickly over his shoulder to check for Kaleb again and then faces me, moving his body so close that our thighs are now only one twitch away.

“I’m just here to help keep you safe whilst your parents are out of town. And you’re gonna let me.”

His eyes burn into my own, the startling silver colour hypnotising me when so starkly contrasted against his sun-kissed skin. There’s a subtle cherry-red glow spreading up his cheekbones and after a moment he looks away from me, his Adam’s apple rolling.

“Unless there’s something else you want me to fill you in with,” he murmurs gruffly, “I’m gonna need you to keep those hands to yourself, okay?”

My eyes stretch wide, then drop to his jeans. Which, although he hasn’t moved any closer to me, are now brushed up against the bottom of my tank.

My lips pop open and then I quickly snap them shut. He isn’t… he can’t be…

He’s no longer the only person with a strawberry flush.

He’s ready now? He could… he could do that now? My eyes flutter quickly away from the hard swell beneath his belt, my brain spinning in overdrive as I realise that my snappy little fight literally just made him hard. The thought of him being so virile makes my body grow heavy, my brain light-headed.

He still likes me. He still really likes me.

As he steps backwards, an endearing kind of guilt radiating from his thickly-built body, I allow my mind to process the fact that I still like him, and for the first time in our lives we’re two semi-adults no longer under parental supervision. Okay, Kaleb’s here, but if he wasn’t it’s pretty obvious where this little stay-over would most likely lead.

To the room right behind me.

But Kaleb is here, my brain argues back. And the main issue with that is that, given my summer plan, I’m actually going to need to stay in his good books. I’ve never purposefully pissed him off – I think that my general little-sister presence sometimes did that, but I always tread carefully when it came to Kaleb and his fuse – but I know that a sure-fire way to make an enemy out of him would be to encroach on his territory. A.k.a. shacking up with his best buddy.

I mentally sigh, my eyes unable to stop their wandering over the peaks and valleys of Madden’s cotton-covered muscles, whilst I consider my two options.

One: indulge in the fantasy that Madden is quite clearly offering up to me, and then endure a lifelong domestic when Kaleb catches on.

Two: snuggle my way into Kaleb’s good books so that he’ll let me use his old Fender for the upcoming Barn Bonanza, therefore forbidding myself from alone-time with Madden during my rare month of filial freedom.

This time, I sigh out loud, recapturing Madden’s attention.

I nod. Yes, I’ll keep my hands to myself. Yes, I promise not to taunt you.

He takes it all in – the flushed cheeks, the unwilling nodding – and rolls his neck, his jaw muscles bunching.

“Well, that’s good then,” he concludes, his voice as reluctant as my expression. “You’re a… you’re gonna be good.”

Unable to stand the feeling pulsing in the air any longer, he steps fully away from me and starts making his way to the bathroom. He pauses when he’s just outside of it, giving himself a few long seconds of silent contemplation, and then finally he strolls right through, leaving the door wide open behind him.

A fuse explodes in my brain. Not a chance. There’s no way that I can stay up here knowing that Madden is going to be fully naked and drenched in water with the damn door wide open.

I practically throw myself down the stairs, using my track-star history to propel myself like a missile. My head feels heavy with heat, my blood pressure still higher than it should be.

All things considered, I think that went pretty well. We seem to have reached some sort of truce, although ironically we were both unenthusiastic about it.

It’s been two years since we last saw each other and we’re both still interested in our unknown romantic potential – that much is obvious. But we’re also aware of the giant obstacle that Kaleb will be, even though Madden doesn’t know how sincerely I need to stay friendly with my brother right now.

On the other hand, Madden is obviously not willing to fight fair.

I glance up at the gallery corridor when I reach the bottom of the stairs. The bathroom door remains wide open, opaque steam pouring through it and the loud slap of the shower-spray infiltrating the air.

Lordy. My stomach flutters as I turn away from my temptation, my mind trying to convince myself that I can’t smell his ridiculously delicious body wash from all the way down here.

I speed-walk to the kitchen and stow myself onto the far counter, tucking myself into the nook that will keep the gallery corridor out of my eye-line as I wait for Kaleb to finish up outside for the night.

Buckle up Bronco, my brain says as I steel myself. You have a favour to ask.

*

When Kaleb lets himself in his face looks tired, because today is probably his first day of manual labour in the past two years. Whereas I can see that Madden spends his free time ripping concrete boulders and flipping tires, Kaleb is leaner in his build. He’s strong and he’s fit, but I can tell that he hasn’t been as active as he had to be when he was living and working here on the ranch.

I begin with an olive branch.

I did a little bit of witchy herbal research and then dug out the most placating tea that we had in our cupboard. Said a little prayer over it, and now it’s in my hand, outstretched towards Kaleb like an enchanted apple.

His eyes sparkle when he sees the sweet nectar I’m offering and he takes it without hesitation, glugging it down whilst he smiles his thanks at me.

You’re welcome.

“So,” I say, drumming my fingers on the kitchen counter behind me. When Kaleb lowers the cup I can see that half of its contents has already gone. “How did you find your first shift?” I ask lightly, watching as the tea leaves work their magic. He’s mellowing by the second. Excellent.

He lifts a shoulder and then drops it in a half-shrug. “Tough but enlightening,” he admits, taking another sip. “But I think that this is a good thing, my being here. I wanna get my fitness back up.” He thinks for a moment and then he adds, “Madden’s a fucking beast. You should see him when he’s hauling the equipment out there.”

Don’t tempt me.

“Uh, so, anyway,” I say, re-steering our conversation. “I’m actually really glad that you’re here too. I know I was weird this afternoon but I’m genuinely really pleased that you’re here.”

Am I over-egging it? Yes. But Kaleb’s ego is so large that he gobbles it right up.

“Aw, Kit,” he says, pulling me against his side for a half-hug, his other arm preoccupied with finishing his drink. Sip, sip. I hide my smile.

Time to bite the bullet.

“So I was wondering, since you’re here and all, if you could possibly-maybe-potentially help me with something?” I’m opting for the damsel in distress route, hoping that his Y chromosomes won’t be able to resist aiding the helpless little woman in front of him.

His gaze drops down to mine, his brow lifted in surprise. “You need help?” he asks.

Another win for feminism.

“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “Do you think that you could do me a favour?”

He blinks down at me, trying to read my mind with our sibling synergy. I block him out, my smile steadfast.

My gaze flickers into his cup. “There’s still a bit of tea left in there,” I say encouragingly.

He sips it, his eyes never leaving mine.

“It’s your old guitar,” I admit, taking my opportunity whilst his mouth is preoccupied. “I remembered that you had it in your room and, the thing is, there’s this little singing competition that I saw advertised – it’s a tiny thing – and I thought that maybe I could enter it? And use your old guitar?” Emphasis on “old”, completely avoiding the word “Fender”. “I won’t have to annoy you by practicing here – I got in touch with Dyl at the bar and he said that I could use their stage space if I need to.”

Is it bad that I have to trivialise an event that’s a huge deal to me? Yes. But am I going to use everything in my power to out-manipulate my self-centred brother?

Hell yeah.

Herbal concoction finished, he places the cup beside the sink and searches my eyes, still frowning.

“A music competition?” he asks, his brow furrowed.

I make an iffy gesture with my hand, downplaying it.

When I don’t give him any further information he raises his free hand behind his head, scratching at his hair like I’ve just stressed out his scalp. “Well…” he says, his face so displeased that he’s almost wincing.

I know that he doesn’t want to share the limelight with me, especially not when we’re both interested in the exact same field, but I’m hoping that my belittling of the endeavour will give him the nudge to act charitably. After all, I am the sibling who stayed with our parents to work on the ranch, and there’s no way that he’d expect anything real to come from my entering a talent contest.

I give him a dimply smile. He folds like a stack of cards.

“Okay, fine,” he sighs, smiling back at me. “But you’ll owe me,” he warns.

I scrunch up my nose.

“Owe you how?” I ask, not wanting to do more than my share of chores on the ranch.

“Like, we’re not actually gonna stay here like hostages for the next three weeks,” he replies. “I wanna go out like a normal person, have some fun whilst I’m back in town.”

Great. I chew on my bottom lip, suddenly anxious. “You mean, leave the ranch unguarded?” I ask.

He pinches my cheek and I squirm because it hurts. I punch him in the stomach when he finally lets me go.

“Just for a couple hours at a time. Unless you’d rather I bring the party here,” he says tauntingly.

I roll my eyes. He can’t behave himself for three freaking weeks?

Begrudgingly I give him a nod. “Okay, fine,” I say, grateful at least for the fact that we’re somewhat compromising right now.

He grins. “Awesome. So Madden and I are going out tonight, and you’re coming with us.”

I look down at my pyjamas, avoiding Kaleb’s eyes, because all that I heard there was going out and Madden, and I’m thinking about how that’s a situation that I definitely shouldn’t be putting myself into.

Instead I give him another smile and say, “Sounds great!” even though I know that this is a terrible idea.