Deb walked out of his dad’s room and drank from a nearby water fountain. Trip didn’t need her eavesdropping or sizing him up. Time to hang up with Kelsey. “Listen, I probably shouldn’t stay on the phone long. We’re not supposed to use them in the hospital.”
“All right.” She sighed, sounding dissatisfied. “Get some rest. And,” she hesitated, “I think you’re wrong about your dad. You’re a kind man, Trip, and I’ve no doubt he sees that and loves you.”
“Thanks, Kelsey.” He swallowed through the tight knot in his throat. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Good night.”
Trip returned the phone to his pocket just as Deb came back to where he stood. “Was that Kelly?”
“Kelly?” Trip’s facial muscles contorted with confusion while the shock of Deb starting a conversation with him subsided.
“Your father told me about some woman he saw when he visited you . . . she had an unfortunate nickname.” Deb raised one disapproving brow. “He thought you had a thing for her. I thought her real name was Kelly.”
Panic gripped Trip’s lungs. He didn’t need Deb digging around in his business. “Close enough, Deb. Close enough.”
“So was your dad right? She’s someone important to you?”
No way in hell would he risk giving Deb any personal information. If she mentioned something to Mason, then he’d use it to screw with Trip back in Sterling Canyon.
The best way to throw Deb and Mason off his trail was to make believe Kelsey didn’t mean squat to him. “Nope, not important. Just one of many pretty girls I know.”
The lie singed his tongue, but he had no choice.
“As I suspected.” She turned on her heel and went back into his dad’s room.
Trip let a heavy sigh loose. Between his dad, Mason, Kelsey, and his intention to derail Wade’s plans, Trip’s life was quickly becoming a complicated web of half truths and secrets. He doubted he could keep juggling all the balls without dropping one. Whenever that happened, he hoped it wouldn’t completely upend the life he’d been building this past year.
Chapter Nine
Kelsey stood in the kitchen of the fourth condo she’d shown Mason and watched him inspect the sleek, modern cabinetry. His streaks of gray hair glinted in the morning sunlight. She noted his intelligent, rich brown eyes analyzing every detail of the condo as he fingered the drawer pulls and inspected the storage space. It had been hard to focus on being professional when she kept mentally comparing the appeal of Mason’s cultured refinement with that of Trip’s masculinity and charisma.
“This is nice, especially with the dark granite.” Mason ran his left hand—one without a ring, she confirmed—along a stretch of counter space. He stepped close to her again, like he’d been doing all morning. Unlike Trip, who smelled like soap and pine most of the time, Mason obviously wore light cologne—something citrusy. He wasn’t witty or playful, but his sober, careful manner put her at ease—a not entirely unwelcome change of pace from the roller coaster she’d been riding with Trip.
Trip, who’d been in Denver for nearly two weeks and kept putting up a wall whenever she tried to get emotionally close. Although she had no right to be angry, his boundaries hurt. They reminded her of Maura’s warning back in late July. They urged her to return her focus to her real goals instead of trying to spin gold from hay.
“It’s masculine yet understated.” She thought the apartment suited him. “Fits your Cary Grant vibe.”
“Cary Grant?” Mason chuckled, then proceeded to shoot his cuffs. “I’ll take that.”
She smiled and gestured toward the open-concept floor plan, which was anchored by a massive stone fireplace. “This is probably the best we’ll find. It’s got both a spacious living area and nicely proportioned bedrooms.”
“I agree.” A slightly pained expression crossed his eyes. “I think my girls will like visiting me here.”
“Oh? I didn’t realize you had a family.” Although highly curious, she maintained a friendly but professional tone.
“My girls, Lisa and Linda, are with their mom in Denver.” He rubbed one hand over the back of his neck. “I’m in the midst of a divorce. Not sure how often they’ll come, but I want to be prepared.”
“I’m sorry, Mason. That must be hard.” Kelsey refrained from probing for details about his wife and the reason for the divorce. “How old are they?”