The Man I Want to Be Read online

  He grunted but didn’t comment. There was a reason Tyke was anchor. Calder was usually the one who choked.

  Sending Kenna a cocky grin, he cracked his knuckles. “Let’s do this.”

  She mirrored his move. “Yes. Let’s.”

  He wanted to laugh. Little five-foot-nothing woman thought she could outdrink Tyke? Hilarious.

  “Everyone ready?” Maybel shouted.

  Ten murmurs of agreement sounded around the table as onlookers watched in anticipation.

  Bryan looked into his cup at the light amber liquid, then to Kenna. She was watching him with a self-satisfied gleam in her eye. As if their previous conversation had given her plenty of ammunition to kick his ass.

  “And…go!” Maybel shouted.

  Samantha and Ash each picked up their cups and guzzled them. Ash dropped his cup onto the table about three seconds before Sam. Sliding it to the edge, he wore a look of concentration as he used his index finger to flip the cup over. His first try missed, and the cup landed on its side. Sam started flipping her cup.

  “Come on, you dickhead! Christ!” Tyke yelled down the table.

  “Not helping!” Ash said, keeping his eyes on the cup. He flipped it again, and this time it landed upside down.

  “Yeah!” the crowd shouted. “Go! Go!”

  Sawyer’s throat worked as he drank. He placed the cup on the edge of the table and started flipping.

  Sam finally got hers to land the right way. “Come on, Grandma! You can do it!”

  Aw, how sweet. The chicks were cheering one another on. Ha. This was a high-stakes game of flip cup. Not a friendly match of tennis.

  Rose lifted her glass and placed it to her mouth.

  Sawyer flipped his cup, and it landed upside down.

  Tyler immediately grabbed his beer and chugged it.

  Rose downed hers in one shot, and on the first try, she flipped her cup over and it landed perfectly.

  “Woohoo, Grandma!” Sam shouted.

  Rose dropped her chin once and dabbed her mouth with a handkerchief from her pocket.

  Estelle reached for her beer.

  “Come on, Aunt Estelle,” Kenna said. “You’ve done this a million times. Bring it!”

  Estelle did bring it. Like Riddick Bowe brought it to Evander Holyfield. She finished her drink in record time. The guys were waiting for Tyler to flip his cup. And they still had Calder and Tyke to go.

  What the actual fuck. Tyke was starting to sweat. How were the women closing in this fast? He eyed his beer again, envisioning himself downing it in one shot and flipping his cup in one try.

  The women would not win.

  Finally Tyler hit his mark.

  Luke drank from his beer. He dropped the cup onto the table at damn near the same time Cass started flipping hers.

  “Goddamn it, Calder!” Tyke said, his pulse pounding so hard his heart might crack right out of his ribs. “Come on!”

  Bryan looked at Kenna, who was grinning.

  His fingers started to tingle. As soon as Luke finally landed his cup, Tyke was going to take these women down.

  In three…

  Two…

  The second the lip of Luke’s cup touched the table, Tyke grabbed his cup and placed it to his mouth, opening his throat. He slammed it onto the table and flipped it.

  Shit.

  Flipped it again.

  Fuck.

  Flipped it a third time.

  Kenna had just picked up her own drink. She swallowed and lowered it to the table.

  Damn it. His heart was definitely going to break his rib cage.

  “What the fuck, Tyke!” came shouts from the other end of the table.

  “What?” he shouted back, keeping his concentration on the cup. “You idiots get twelve years to get it, and it’s left up to me to clean up in two seconds?”

  “That’s why you’re the goddamn anchor!”

  He flipped his cup again, and the thing wouldn’t sit. The cup’s lip hit the table, wobbled side to side, and it tipped over, rolling. Tyke inhaled a deep breath, adjusting the cup on the edge of the table—

  Kenna flipped her cup and stuck the landing. Repeat: she stuck the fucking landing.

  Game. Over.

  Screams erupted. The women jumped up and down, hugging one another like they’d just found out some high-end store put a bunch of overpriced leather handbags on sale.

  What the hell just happened? Someone please tell him, because he couldn’t make sense of it.

  Bryan met Kenna’s gaze, and his heart stopped. She stood across from him, hand on her full hip, wearing a naughty smirk, swiping a red-painted finger across her lips. All he could think about was placing his mouth on hers and licking where her finger had just been. He wanted to taste her. So fucking bad. And not just her mouth.

  A hard punch connected with his shoulder, jolting him back to reality. He massaged the area and glanced in Luke’s direction. His friend’s eyes were narrowed and his face flushed.

  “Sorry, babe.” Cass wormed herself under her fiancé’s arm and patted his stomach. “That’s too bad you guys lost. Guess you’ll be going with me to that four-hour antiquing class tomorrow.”

  Luke swung a look at Bryan. “Goddamn you, Tyke.”

  Cass dragged her fiancé away, amused, so Tyke made his way around the table to Kenna.

  “Think you’re pretty slick, don’t you?” he said when he reached her.

  A playful smile split her lips. “Maybe.”

  “I didn’t think you girls had it in you. I’m impressed.”

  “Please,” she said. “There wasn’t any doubt.”

  “Careful,” he said. “Don’t get too cocky.”

  “Why? Because then the size of my ego would rival yours?” She chuckled. “No one is catching up to you. I think we’re safe.”

  “You love laughing at my expense, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “Good thing I can take it, huh?”

  “Definitely.” There was a glow in her eyes that hadn’t been there earlier in the evening. A playfulness between them he’d missed.

  “Wanna see how big my ego really is?” he asked.

  She drew back, and her mouth distorted. “Was that a euphemism for the size of something else?”

  “No, but I like the way you think.” His voice was too enthusiastic, but he didn’t care.

  As he hoped, she let out a huge laugh. “It’s cute that you’re so confident.” She stepped past him toward the bar.

  Confident? Of course he was confident. He knew what he was packing. So did she.

  “You know why I am,” he said, following her. “You’ve seen it.”

  She didn’t turn around.

  “You remember, don’t you?”

  She kept walking.

  “Kenna?”

  At the bar, the two parties of guys and girls meshed together. The older ladies called it a night. Single men and women paired off, the betrothed couples whispered into each other’s ears, which left Tyke and Kenna.

  She looked at him and then glanced around at the others. “So…”

  “You wanna drink more?” he said. He didn’t want her to walk away. They were getting along. Laughing, even. He wanted more of that.

  “Sure,” she said with a casual shrug. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Just good old-fashioned shots.”

  Her relieved smile made him wonder if she needed something to get through this week, too. If she’d been struggling as much as he had with this whole reunion thing.

  And it gave him that little bit of solace imagining she did.

  Tyke stumbled off the elevator at the seventh floor, carrying Kenna fireman-style over his shoulder, and staggered down the hallway toward his room.

  Kenna let out a loud giggle-snort combo that most likely woke up half the hotel.

  “Quiet, woman,” Tyke said, probably just as loud. He was so drunk he couldn’t be sure.

  “This isn’t my floor!” She struggled
against his hold like she was trying to get down.

  “I said quiet.” He smacked her ass and took immense satisfaction in the loud cracking sound it made.

  She gasped and then slapped him hard on the back.

  Damn what he wouldn’t give to slip his hand under her skirt right now. It was all he could think about. Having her bottom so close to his face and not being able to do anything about it was the worst sort of torture. There was no other feeling in the world that compared to Kenna’s legs wrapped around his neck, writhing underneath him. Pure euphoria.

  He pulled his key card out of his back pocket, balancing her on the opposite shoulder. Sliding it into the access pad, he threw the door open, went in, and dropped her on the bed with a bounce.

  “Where are we?” she said, lifting her head to look around. “This isn’t my room.”

  “I know. It’s mine.”

  Her features locked up as her body stiffened.

  “Thief, remember?” he said, kicking off his boots. “I’m not taking you to your room while both of us are drunk. Just a safety precaution.”

  “Oh,” she said, her body relaxing. “Okay.” Rolling onto her side, she snuggled into the pillow, and all he could do was watch her. The past and present converged with a vengeance. Everything he’d had that he walked away from was currently lying in his bed.

  He approached her side and sat next to her. “Let me help you with your shoes.” Tugging on her feet, he took off her sandals and tossed them toward the dresser at the end of the bed. He looked down at her outfit and thought long and hard about taking that off her, too. So she’d be more comfortable, of course. But he didn’t dare. That would be even more dangerous than taking her back to her room with the thief. He’d get a full view of her body, barely covered by her underwear, and there’d be no stopping him. And given the fact that she was drunk, she’d give in, which would spell disaster in the morning. He could separate past from present. He could sleep with her knowing that would be it. It wouldn’t mean they had a future. Kenna, on the other hand, would want more. She’d expect it.

  Tyke stood, reaching for the collar of his shirt as he made his way around to the other side of the bed.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?” he asked, tossing his shirt in the corner of the room. His shorts were next. He stepped out of them and flicked them with his foot in the same direction as his shirt. Pushing the covers back, he slipped in and then pulled them up to his chest.

  She brought the sheet up to her neck and curled to face him. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  How could she even ask that? “Why wouldn’t I?”

  A loud yawn sounded from her side. “Because you never came back to me.” Her voice was soft and sleepy. “What did I do? What was wrong with me?”

  “Not a fucking thing.” He urged her onto her back and looked down at her. “I don’t wanna hear you say shit like that again. It’s not you. It was never you.”

  Her eyes were heavy and she yawned again. “Had to be. I needed you, and you weren’t there. You didn’t want me.”

  He could’ve shoved a dull knife through his gut right then, and it wouldn’t have hurt half as bad as what she’d just said. She wasn’t over him. Not at all. He’d hurt her, and she never got over it.

  That killed him the most. She’d spent the last twelve years with hope that he’d come back. He’d failed her. He was the worst sort of man. Leaving her hanging without a reason, letting her think it was her. Christ. It was never her. It was all him. What he wouldn’t give to change the past. To never enlist. To never leave her. They would’ve been married by now.

  She’d be his.

  His.

  She yawned again and flopped onto her stomach. “It’s fine. You didn’t want me. I get it.”

  “No, you don’t get it. Not at all.” He leaned over to see her eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Her back rose and fell on a soft snore. “Kenna?”

  Another snore.

  “Kenna, I wanna talk about this,” he said, amazed at how effective the alcohol was at opening him up. “It wasn’t you. You hear me? It was never you. You’re perfect and I’m just… I’m nowhere near enough for you. You deserve a hell of a lot better than me.”

  She didn’t respond, except for deep, steady breaths.

  Tyke lowered himself beside her and threw an arm over her, savoring the few moments he had to remember what it was like to hold her.

  Chapter Eight

  Kenna squinted against the bright light streaming in from the window to her right.

  God, who left the curtains open? She lay on her side and rubbed her forehead. With the pain slicing through her skull, she was pretty sure someone was driving a metal spike into it.

  She rolled in the other direction in an attempt to give her eyes some reprieve, but she bumped into something large, warm, and solid. She froze. Extending an arm, she placed a hand on the object, gently traveling along its hard surface. Skin. It was hot, bare skin. And given the peaks and valleys, that skin was protecting firm, bulging muscles.

  Oh no. She didn’t. Did she?

  She dared a peek at the person next to her.

  Don’t be Bear.

  Please don’t be Bear.

  Not that anyone else would be better. She didn’t pride herself on getting drunk and going home with random men. But Bear. She definitely couldn’t go home with him.

  The man lay face down, his shirtless back toward the ceiling. Wide shoulders sprawled across the bed, spilling over onto her side. Long dirty-blond hair fanned his pillow. His face was turned away from her, but she could see the faint outline of a beard across his cheeks and jawline.

  Shit. Shit. Motherlode of all shit.

  Lifting the crisp, white cotton sheet enough, she saw he was wearing black boxer briefs, and she breathed a big sigh of relief. It was one thing to fall asleep together. It was quite another if he were naked.

  While her intention was to lower the cover and get immediately out of Dodge, she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the round, sculpted mounds that stared back at her. The bottom edges of his briefs rode up to the underside of his ass, accenting just how full the object below was. It also drew attention to his extremely long, chiseled legs. Bryan had always been athletic and bulked up easily, but now, as a man, he exuded a new level of masculinity. In a man’s body.

  She swallowed down her rising need. The temptation to have him was most definitely there, no matter how badly she wanted to deny it. And in a situation like this one, in full view of his body, it was difficult to remember that she didn’t want him.

  Or at least shouldn’t want him.

  Finally, after some struggle, she convinced herself to roll away. Slowly and quietly, Kenna shimmied out of the bed and tiptoed to the other side of the room. She was still in the same tank and skirt she’d been wearing last night. Her shoes lay across the room in front of a dresser.

  Kenna started to reach for her shoes, but something caught her eye on the nearby table. A half-torn piece of paper on what looked like hotel letterhead. She stole a quick glance at Bear, who still slept in the same position, then bent to get a closer look at the paper.

  At the top of the page someone had scribbled, Avg height. Dark hair. Lean. Then she saw a list of men’s names.

  Suspects! Bryan must have been able to obtain a list of suspects from hotel security!

  Another quick glance at Bryan, then she snatched the paper from the table, grabbed her shoes, and raced like hell out of the room. She needed to work through most of this list before Bryan tracked her down and killed her.

  Kenna lounged poolside with a wide-brimmed sun hat, oversize sunglasses, and her pink bikini. She peered over a magazine at a guy treading water in the deep end. According to the hotel employee who brought her a pineapple martini, the man was Joseph Landry. The fifth name on the list.

  There were twenty total names, and given the rip at the bottom of the page, there were most likely more. Which she
’d search for if the guys on this list ended up being duds. Like the first four who were either too short or too old.

  This one, though. He fit the profile perfectly.

  She’d watched him enter the pool about ten minutes ago. He was lean with dark hair. He had an air about him. Confident and authoritative. He exuded power. She could sense it from here. When he walked along the edge of the pool toward the diving board, she got a clear shot of his back. He looked damn similar to and had the same smooth manner as the man she’d seen walking down the hall when her mom’s ring had been taken.

  This could be her guy.

  When the thought sank in, her palms grew clammy, and her pulse kicked up.

  Patience.

  He swam for a while, leisurely doing laps, so she used the time to reflect on the past few days. She and Bryan had gotten along really well last night. Laughed, even. It was…nice. And made it easy to remember how it felt when things were good between them.

  She missed that most. How much fun they used to have together. No one used to make her smile like Bear.

  A long, deep breath and also a sip from her drink later, she watched Joseph leave a trail of wet footprints behind him as he approached his beach chair to gather his belongings. He threw his towel over his shoulder, slipped his feet into thong sandals, and donned metal-framed sunglasses. Sliding what looked like his room key card into his pocket, he turned and headed in the direction she’d come from when she’d left Bryan’s room.

  Flip-flops already on, Kenna stood and picked up her towel, taking off after Joseph as fast as she could without being obvious.

  Kenna held up her phone and snapped a few pictures of his backside as he walked up a stone path, passing well-manicured shrubs and richly colored flowers. Joseph turned once and looked in her direction, so she acted like she was taking a selfie.

  Slowing her pace so as not to tip him off, Kenna pretended to gaze at one of the flowers. The man continued the ascent up the hill toward the main hotel. When she thought he was far enough ahead where she could still see him without being obvious, she started after him.

  That’s when a tall brick wall stepped in front of her, and a hand gripped her wrist. Tipping her head back, she met Bear’s furious blue eyes.