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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/504443-Chapter-Twelve
Rated: 13+ · Book · Romance/Love · #1232025
Deb sets out to find her biological father and finds a whole family instead.
#504443 added April 27, 2007 at 12:46am
Restrictions: None
Chapter Twelve
         Since the previous afternoon, Kyle had felt the dregs of the funk he’d been fighting finally begin to lift.  Deb had been right, that secrets could eat a person up, but Kyle wasn’t sure that was exactly all of it.  He’d dealt with secrets for a very long time; he’d grown accustomed to convincing himself the lie was the truth.  But with Deb’s troubles stirring up his own, he’d been miserable.
         They’d made some sort of breakthrough yesterday, though Kyle wasn’t sure how to define it.  Deb was a maze of walls up, and perhaps he’d managed to jump one.  There were still a few in his way, but progress was progress.
         He’d wanted to stay, have dinner, do something normal and pull her closer as much figuratively as literally.  But, the call that had interrupted them threatened to lose him a lot of money—money he couldn’t afford to lose.  So, he’d had to cut the afternoon short and meet the client, dropping Deb off at the hotel.
         But, despite the oncoming optimism yesterday had created.  Despite the fact that he’d talked his client out of backing out of their tentative deal, Kyle still knew he had some more difficult things to work out.  And they centered on his brother.
         He didn’t have to stop at the Kapshaw farmhouse to ask where Logan would be.  Logan was never far from the fields he’d grown to love.  Kyle couldn’t quite understand it, but he could respect it.
         Kyle pulled his truck next to the barn, shrugging off the mud that now splattered his tires.  A car wash would be in order when he got back to town.
         Logan was still a bit of a trek away, working on something in a far corner of the south field.  Kyle didn’t hurry, as much as he didn’t understand the need or love of farming, he did understand the beauty of a spring day in rural Iowa.  The sun was shining, almost unseasonably warm, but the cool breeze came sweeping by every time he had the notion to take off his jacket.
         A robin hopped around the barn, and the scent of manure was far more pungent than the scent of budding Earth.  Kyle wrinkled his nose as he approached Logan.
         “The smell would be enough to find me a new occupation.”
         Logan grinned, and Kyle wondered if Logan ever noticed the resemblance there. 
         “That’s the smell of money, Kyle.  A wonderful smell.”
         Kyle rolled his eyes, attempting a smile.  “All right, kiddo.  So what you got goin’ on here?”
         It was a large patch of land, though in comparison to the fields of corn, merely a blip.  The dark, damp soil was overturned and Logan was forming rows and mounds with determined concentration.
         “My pet project, cousin.  Organic, local-grown vegetables.”
         Kyle shook his head.  “You gonna eat them?”
         “Some, and sell some.  Don’t you ever pay attention to where you food comes from, Kyle?  You go to Walt’s in town and you’re getting bananas from Columbia and kiwis from Greece.”
         Kyle shrugged.  “So?”
         At Logan’s dumbfounded look, Kyle couldn’t help but chuckle.  “I hear Greece is nice.”
         “Ain’t exactly the point.”  Logan looked at his plot of land, then back at his cousin.  “I don’t have the time right now to set you straight in your ignorant ways.  Will have to wait for another time.”
         “Damn,” Kyle replied sarcastically.  “I just love lectures from teenagers.”
         Logan snorted.  “Speaking of lectures, how’d you make out with Deb yesterday?”  Logan grinned even as he went back to work with the soil.  “She said you were in the doghouse.  I tried to put in a good word for you, but not sure how it went over.”
         Kyle attempted a smile.  “We worked it out.”
         “Figured as much.  Told her you were head over heels, generally women forgive after hearing something like that.”
         “You think you’re some kind of female expert just because you got one?”
         Logan stopped his work, and looked up at Kyle.  “I’m what you would call a female expert, Kyle.  I got a girl, sure, but being surrounded by Gregg and Kapshaw women a good majority of the time is what makes me an expert.”
         “At seventeen?”
         Logan leaned confidently on whatever tool he was using.  Kyle tried to hide a smile: at seventeen he could see the man Logan would become, confident, content, and somehow at peace with his life and where he’d come from.  Kyle supposed it was because Logan had found where he belonged and that had wiped away the bad he’d come from.  It comforted Kyle the way nothing else had the past few weeks to see it in him.
         “That’s nearly seventeen years of study.  For instance, you really want to win Deb over, you buy her some kind of gift.  Out of the blue, no real occasion ‘cept maybe a bit of an apology.  Works on every woman.”
         “Really?”
         Logan nodded solemnly, though his expression hinted more towards humor.  “It’s tricky though, because every one’s got their weak spot.  See, I get Evie mad at me and I frame one of her paintings or pictures in some pretty little frame—or make one myself.  Mrs. K, I get her something sentimental that reminds her of me and Evie bein’ kids.  Kayla’s won over by any sparkly trinket and Becca likes books you can’t find in Lilac Grove.  Now, on the other hand, my Mom and sisters would prefer a carton of cigarettes or a bottle of Wild Turkey.  You just gotta know your audience.”
         Kyle wanted to smile, but the addition of his family’s preferences had his gut sinking again.  Why did he only feel beholden to Logan?  Why not the rest of the Gregg’s?  Not his mothers or his other half-siblings, merely Logan.  He supposed even he knew Logan was the only hope.
         “But, I’ll tell you a secret I don’t let everyone in on,” Logan continued, his focus returning back to his work as he spoke.  “Just about any woman is done in by flowers.  They may claim not to like them or that they’re pointless because they die, but flowers do something to them.”
         “Flowers, huh?”
         Logan went on, making what seemed to Kyle incomprehensible rows and mounds.  “Yeah, but not roses.  Kapshaw women like it to be something different.  Roses are easy.  It’s what women expect from flowers.  You want them to really get all worked up, get something else.”
         “You’re just a fountain of wisdom, huh?”
         Logan grinned, but his eyes didn’t leave his work.  “Kapshaw women, I’ve got down.  So, you ever need any advice, just ask the master.”
         Kyle laughed, patting Logan on the back.  “I’ll keep it in mind.”
         “So, what’d you come down here for if not for my stellar advice?”
         Kyle shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.  “Ah, just… had a break in my schedule, wanted to see how you were doing.”
         “I haven’t even been near a fight at school if that’s what you’re after.”
         Kyle figured that was as good as an excuse as any.  “Just wanted to double check.  Still got your grades up?”
         “Yeah, yeah.  I’m on the bridge of A’s in chemistry and stat, but Lit’s a B and Spanish is a C, but Becca tutors me and Evie helps me with the homework.  I just ain’t got much use for weird stories and somebody else’s language.”
         Kyle smiled.  “Well, mister woman expert, you get a couple of poem’s and women stories under your belt—just another way to impress a woman.  This one doesn’t cost a thing.”
         Logan looked up, considering.  “Interesting.  Never thought much about that.  Maybe it’s not so useless.”
         Kyle chuckled.  “I still have things to teach you yet.”
         “Guess so.”
         “All right, I’ll let you get back to your work.  And don’t only call me when you’re in trouble, the good things are nice to hear too.”
         Logan smiled and waved a goodbye.
         Maybe he shouldn’t, maybe it let himself off the hook just a bit too easily, but he felt better about things.  At seventeen, Kyle couldn’t ask much more of Logan.  He had his moments, his troubles, but he was responsible and had found his passion.  How could Kyle feel guilty if having the Kapshaws had led Logan to that?

*

         He picked lilies.  Some orange colored ones mixed with some pink ones and a few white ones thrown in.  The florist said it was a lovely arrangement.  Kyle decided to take her word for it.
         When she opened the door of her hotel room door, he knew instantly that she’d been working.  Lines of frustration and concentration furrowed around her eyes.
         “Hi, Kyle.  I’m-”
         Before she could finish, he pulled the bouquet from behind his back.  The surprise that lit into her eyes was well worth the headache he’d gotten from the florist’s incessant questioning and rearranging.
         She said his name practically on a whisper.  “They’re beautiful,” she murmured, her hands reached out to touch, but for some reason she pulled them back.  “You shouldn’t have done it.”
         Her tone was forceful, but Kyle pushed past her and her tone.  Logan had been right.  She might protest wanting them, but he’s seen the look of surprise and pleasure on her face before she’d blocked it out.
         “You’ve only got a week or two left in this depressing room.  I figured I’d lighten it up so you can enjoy your last days of hotel life.”
         “They’re lovely, really.  They’re very unique.”
         “Then don’t say but or make any excuses.  Take the flowers.”
         “Kyle, I’m bogged down with work, I thought I explained that last night.  I need the office to be ready by Monday so I can start advertising and finding clients.  I just need to work tonight.”
         “I was just giving you flowers.”
         “And just about to try to talk me into a break.”
         Kyle grinned.  She saw through him pretty easily, but that didn’t bother him.  Neither did the dedication to her work, as he’d built a business of his own from the ground up and knew it took time and focus.  And, despite his best efforts, he knew that business would come first for her—had to.
         He didn’t know why that made her all the more attractive.  But the sharp mind and focused, shrewd green eyes were beautiful in their own right.  She was beautiful, and he said so because it was as much true as it would catch her off guard.
         “You’re absolutely beautiful.”
         She sputtered, as he had known she would.  “Very sweet, but nonetheless, I have work to do.  Thank you the flowers.  I’ll be glad to thank you properly some other time.”
         “Define properly,” Kyle said, reaching out to touch her.  God he wanted to touch her, but she stepped back.
         “Out.”
         He stepped forward, grabbing her hand despite her attempts to stop him.  Keeping his eyes on hers, he brushed his lips across her knuckles.  “No more at arm’s length, Deb.  You agreed.”
         “I’m not pushing you away.  I’m putting my work and livelihood above your attempts at distraction.”
         “Hm.”
         “You can have me all to yourself Monday night.  We can celebrate, but until then I need to focus.”
         “You need to eat and sleep too.”
         Deborah gave him a push.  “I doubt I’d do much of either with you around.”
         She could be sharply and unexpectedly funny.  He found that just as attractive as the lawyer side of her.
         “Go!  I’ll call you Monday.”
         “I’ll be by Monday, no need to call.”  He smiled in a way he knew would irritate her just enough to get her growling.  She did just that as her eyes narrowed; Kyle knew it was the perfect time to leave.
         “Bye, darling,” he drawled overdramatically, taking a few steps to the door as Deb followed him.  He turned abruptly so that she almost bumped into him.  Before she could retreat, he stroked his hand over the curve of her arm.  “Sure you don’t have time for any breaks?”
         She smiled.  “I’m positive.”
         He response was not surprising, but her next move was.  She straightened, not quite needing to reach on her tiptoes to reach his mouth with hers, brushing her lips slowly but firmly across his own.
         Even as she began to pull away, he pulled her closer.  “Deb.”
         “Good night, Kyle.”
         He didn’t let her go, but didn’t push for anything more.  He just held her there for a few moments, inhaling the light, clean scent he couldn’t identify, feeling the easy length of her pressed closely to him.  It was enough, for now. 
         “All right,” he acquiesced, inch by inch releasing his grasp from her waist.  “Good night.”
         She closed the door, practically right on his face, but not before he caught her grinning.  Her smile was contagious and he walked back out of the hotel feeling right.
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