Ava's Prize Read online

  He needs a great idea

  She can provide it—but at what cost?

  The battle lines are drawn when army medic turned EMT Ava Andrews enters a contest devised by San Francisco entrepreneur Kyle Quinn. The first responder isn’t just competing for a tempting grand prize. She’s fighting her attraction to the self-made millionaire...and losing the war. But private and professional boundaries blur when a breach of trust threatens Ava’s future with Kyle.

  Kyle liked the tinge on Ava’s cheeks.

  He preferred that over his own lingering insecurities. The ones that taunted him about his looming deadline. “What’s the game?”

  Ben rubbed his hands together. “It’s called: You Know What We Need.”

  Kyle knew what he needed. He needed another million-dollar invention. And he needed it yesterday. Yet he wanted to share the teen’s enthusiasm, feel that same innocent excitement for something. He’d felt it once. “How do you play?”

  “Someone says: you know what we need and then tells everyone their idea. We discuss the idea then vote if we like it or not. You get points if everyone likes it.” Ben’s eyes widened, and horror lowered his voice to secret-telling level. “But if we vote it down, you lose double the points.”

  “Or there’s no discussion at all because your idea gets voted down instantly. Then you drop to last place. Last place.” Ava’s disgruntled voice muted Kyle’s panic.

  The words vote and last place circled through Kyle. Something hummed inside him. Something he hadn’t felt in far too long. That first stirring of an idea.

  Dear Reader,

  At seventy-five, my dad has built quite a legacy. I had the benefit of working at my father’s office during the summer before my freshman year in college. I saw firsthand his work ethic (he arrived first and left last) and his dedication (he never asked anyone to do anything he wouldn’t do himself). Yet one moment has stuck with me. It was the end of the day—everyone had long since clocked out and gone home. Everyone except my dad and me (he was my ride home). I remember moaning that we’d been there so long, and couldn’t we just leave already (did I mention I was a teenager?). My dad gathered his things, but we never made it to the main door. The janitor had arrived. My dad didn’t offer a simple greeting. He shook the man’s hand, greeted him by his first name, and asked about the gentleman’s wife and kids—my dad knew their names, too. I recall sitting at the receptionist desk and realizing that kindness mattered. That giving five minutes, ten minutes or an hour of your time and yourself can change someone’s day.

  My father is generous with his time, his talents and his money. However, my dad is proof that sometimes it’s that extra moment you take and the part of yourself that you give to someone else that can leave an even more lasting impression. My hero, Kyle Quinn, has the money, but he hasn’t quite learned that money isn’t always the answer. Thankfully, like I had my dad, Kyle has Ava to teach him a few lessons about the power of love and family.

  Cari Lynn Webb

  Ava’s Prize

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  Cari Lynn Webb

  Cari Lynn Webb lives in South Carolina with her husband, daughters and assorted four-legged family members. She’s been blessed to see the power of true love in her grandparents’ seventy-year marriage and her parents’ marriage of over fifty years. She knows love isn’t always sweet and perfect—it can be challenging, complicated and risky. But she believes happily-ever-afters are worth fighting for.

  Books by Cari Lynn Webb

  Harlequin Heartwarming

  A Heartwarming Thanksgiving

  “Wedding of His Dreams”

  Make Me a Match

  “The Matchmaker Wore Skates”

  The Charm Offensive

  The Doctor’s Recovery

  Visit the Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

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  To Mom and Dad: For showing me the strength of love, family and faith. I’m grateful for your support, encouragement and guidance.

  I love you!

  Special thanks to my husband and daughters for the endless laughter and willingness to eat leftovers while I’m on deadline.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM A COWBOY’S CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL BY CATHY McDAVID

  CHAPTER ONE

  THREE. DISASTERS ALWAYS came in threes. Kyle Quinn had two.

  First: he was about to lose his fortune.

  Second: a woman had just collapsed on the twenty-foot-high scaffolding above him. And could be dead. Only the multiple calls to 9-1-1 disrupted the stunned silence from the photography crew and models looking on from the ground floor at the charity calendar photoshoot.

  Kyle ran toward the scaffolding.

  A redheaded model sprinted past him wearing trendy jeans and heeled boots.

  No, the third disaster wasn’t the event.

  Kyle had been warned redheads were trouble by his own ginger-haired grandmother. He grabbed the redhead’s wrist to keep her from being injured. One model down was more than enough. “The photographer’s assistant called 9-1-1. We don’t need another casualty for the paramedics when they get here.”

  She scowled, deep and intense, as if he’d insulted her, not protected her. Her mascara heavy, her eyes narrowed on him like twin rifle scopes. “Then you should stay down here.”

  With that, she yanked free of Kyle’s hold and scaled the scaffolding he’d intended to climb.

  “Trouble,” Kyle muttered. His grandmother had been right after all. He followed the headstrong model up the ladder, albeit much less gracefully. The redhead scaled the steel structure like a seasoned acrobat from a Cirque du Soleil show.

  Francesca Lang, the older model who’d collapsed, had been one of San Francisco’s favorite models for decades. Her face had adorned city billboards and commercials alike. She was to be the face of January for the charity calendar. She’d been poised on the platform to look like she’d scaled a high-rise and conquered life. Now she was powerless and barely breathing.

  Seeing her, Kyle forgot about his problems and tried to remember the basics of CPR. Compressions and breath ratios.

  He needn’t have worried.

  The redhead confidently checked the older model’s airways and felt for a pulse, making him wonder if her parents had encouraged her to have a backup plan to modeling. “Help me get her harness off.”

  “That’s on her for safety.” What if Francesca went into convulsions? She might drop to her death.

  “She needs to be able to breathe easier and deeper.” The redh
ead unzipped the older woman’s jumpsuit. “Help me, please.”

  “Tell me what to do.”

  And she did. For the first time in a long time, Kyle felt vital. There was progress, too. Francesca seemed to breathe easier without the suit, although she still hadn’t regained consciousness.

  The redhead greeted the arriving paramedics by their first names, calling out a pulse rate and other medical jargon as if she was the trained professional and Kyle was window dressing.

  Too many tense minutes later, Francesca finally opened her eyes and was lowered off the scaffolding to the gurney waiting below.

  The redhead had never flinched. Never panicked. Never paled like the other scared onlookers nearby. She wasn’t just beautiful. She was a hero.

  The sirens from the ambulance faded as the EMTs drove off. Beside him, the red-haired model-turned-hero kicked a slate-gray earbud device across the platform with the toe of her high-heeled boot and mumbled what sounded like a bitter curse. “I should have guessed she was wearing one of these.”

  Kyle eyed the all-too-familiar device with gut-sinking shame. He’d invented the medical ear bud. It was responsible for his instant celebrity. And for his flush bank accounts. It was also the one thing that could bring about his ruin in less than two months.

  “Have something against medical earbuds?” He tried to press disinterest into his voice.

  “Only if it’s a Medi-Spy.” She nudged the device farther away from her. “Those earbuds should be remarketed as a toy, not a medical alert device.”

  He winced. “Really.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, looking less like a wannabe supermodel and more like a judge handing out a life sentence. “It gives faulty readings that send people to the ER unnecessarily, and it fails to recognize true emergencies in time.” Her frown deepened. “Then there’s also the totally unnecessary music feature and its sporadic connection with its own app and the dropped call rate.”

  “It hasn’t exactly evolved in line with its original purpose,” Kyle allowed.

  He knew the issues with his product, but he’d sold control of Medi-Spy to Tech Realized, Inc. without realizing he’d sold his soul, as well. With every royalty check he cashed, he watched the earbud become more commercialized to increase the profits. Bluetooth? Music options? He wasn’t sure he even remembered the heart of the design anymore.

  “Anything else wrong with the device?” The harsh bite in his tone was self-directed. He expected her to identify him as a failure next. His reputation and Medi-Spy’s were closely linked.

  “That’s only the highlights of the Medi-Spy’s faults.” She eased by him toward the ladder. “If you really want to see how often that particular earbud fails, ride along during one of my shifts. I’m a paramedic.”

  “But you’re here,” he blurted out. “Don’t you mean past tense?” She was gorgeous. The green in her eyes matched the green in her sweater.

  “You think I’m a professional model?” Her cheeks bloomed an attractive pink. Doubt, not confidence softened her voice. “I’m part of the local piece of the calendar.”

  Before he could respond, she’d moved down the ladder, disappearing from his view. Kyle made his way off the scaffolding. Turning, he discovered his model hadn’t made it very far. A linebacker-size man and a copper-haired young boy blocked her path.

  “I knew I should’ve waited to use the bathroom.” The boy shoved his bangs off his forehead. “What did we miss, Aunty Ava? Did someone fall off the platform and crack their head open?”

  Excitement rushed the boy’s speech. The linebacker scanned the floor and frowned.

  “Nothing that dramatic, I’m afraid.” Ava stepped sideways and bumped into Kyle.

  He grinned at her and remained in her space. Perhaps not the most polite reaction, but he didn’t feel like moving away from her. They were almost on a first-name basis. At least now he knew her name.

  The boy’s gaze widened, revealing eyes shades deeper than Ava’s pale green gaze. The boy’s eyes were the color of an avocado skin, Ava’s the color of the inside. Kyle rubbed his forehead. He’d scaled a scaffolding and returned to his bumbling adolescence. Comparing eye color to fruit was definitely his cue to leave. And eat. Clearly, he was hungry, or he wouldn’t have compared Ava’s eyes to an avocado. An avocado. He kept his lips firmly sealed.

  The boy tugged on the linebacker’s arm with one hand and pointed at Kyle with the other. “Dad. That’s Kyle Quinn. He’s the inventor guy.”

  Ava reached over and pushed Ben’s arm down. “Ben, it’s not polite to point.”

  “But he invented the Medi-Spy.” Awe clouded Ben’s face and voice, lengthening the word spy into several syllables.

  Ava looked at Kyle, her gaze assessing. “He doesn’t look famous.”

  Kyle resisted the urge to smooth his hands over his button-down shirt as if to prove he concealed nothing. He never liked to be scrutinized at any depth beyond the surface, and Ava analyzed. Kyle shrugged instead of asking Ava for the results of her analysis. “He’s right. I’m the Medi-Spy inventor.”

  “I hate to tell you this, but...I stand behind my earlier comments.” She straightened and locked her gaze with his. “Your device has too many features. It’s confused about what it is, like some teenager trying to figure out who they want to be when they grow up.”

  No apology. No pleasure to meet you. No retreat. Kyle discovered his first real smile that morning. He liked his paramedic-turned-model even more. He reached over, shook hands with the linebacker and learned Dan was Ava’s partner in the ambulance, the boy his ten-year-old son, Ben. And according to Ben, Ava had earned the title Aunt, not because they shared blood. Rather, Ava was family from the heart.

  Ben extended his arm toward Kyle, mimicking his father. Kyle noticed the paracord band wrapped around the boy’s thin wrist. Its silver medical-alert plate all too familiar. Kyle felt the shift of the titanium links of his own medical-alert band across his own wrist. He’d worn some form of a medical-alert bracelet since he’d started walking. He wondered how long Ben had his and gripped the boy’s hand in a firm handshake.

  Ben’s grin spread toward his ears. “Wait until the kids at school find out I met a real famous person.”

  Soon, Kyle might be famous for being a hack. For losing everything because he had no new ideas. Without a second idea, he’d fail to fulfill his contract. The penalties were stiff and unforgiving. That definitely wasn’t the type of notoriety he wanted. He shouldn’t still be here. He needed to get back to his office and create something. A new invention to rival the Medi-Spy earbud. The execs at Tech Realized, Inc. would accept nothing less.

  “Hey, I was chosen to be a part of this celebrity calendar, too.” Ava’s arm brushed against Kyle as she reached to tug on Ben’s hair. “You already know me.”

  Kyle wanted to know more about Ava. She had a bold confidence that he admired. But getting to know a woman better couldn’t be his focus right now. He needed to stop distracting himself. His mother would tell him to quit procrastinating. If only it was that easy. If only he wasn’t stuck as if he stood on a high dive, too afraid to jump. Too afraid to trust in his swimming skills. Fearful he’d sink, because Medi-Spy was exactly what Ava painted it—a failure.

  “But Mr. Quinn is in the papers and magazines at least once a week,” Ben argued. “And you aren’t.”

  The photo ops were a side effect. Definitely not Kyle’s choice. But that was the unwritten part of signing a seven-figure contract and launching a bestselling product. His celebrity had been instantaneous. It had been handed to him and he’d been trying to hand it back ever since. Standing out never suited him.

  He’d stood out in school for several reasons, from his scrawny stature to more serious offenses, like his preference for the science lab over the football field. But he’d grown into his height, filled out and tipped well now. Still that
awkward kid with the deadly nut allergy—the one that had forced him to sit at the peanut-free table every school lunch—lingered inside him and cringed with every camera flash. “Your dad and aunt save lives. That’s the real-life hero stuff that means more than any picture in any gossip page.”

  “Still, you get to meet other famous people. I’ve seen the pictures on the internet.” Ben edged closer to Kyle. His gaze shifted back and forth between his dad and Kyle. “If I invent something, can I meet Chase Jacobs and the starting offensive line for the Pioneers?”

  His dad held up his hands and retreated. “Don’t look at me. I sit in the upper section at the football stadium, not the box seats, when the Pioneers play at home.”

  “I can get you tickets on the fifty-yard line,” Kyle offered. “Let me know if there’s a home game coming up that you want to see.”

  Dan shook Kyle’s hand again, a grateful, hearty pump. Ben nodded as if his suspicions had been confirmed. Celebrity was good. Confidence tipped the boy’s chin up and strengthened his voice. “My aunt and I are inventors, too.”

  “That’s nothing.” Ava waved her hands between them as if trying to wipe Ben’s words from the air. “That’s just a game we play.”

  Kyle liked the tinge on Ava’s cheeks. “What’s the game?”

  Ben rubbed his hands together. “It’s called You Know What We Need?”

  Kyle knew what he needed. He needed another million-dollar idea. And he needed it yesterday. Still, he wanted to share Ben’s enthusiasm, feel that same innocent excitement for something. He’d felt it once with the Medi-Spy. “How do you play?”

  “Someone says, ‘You know what we need?’ and then tells everyone their idea. We discuss the idea, then vote if we like it or not. You get points if everyone likes it.” Ben’s eyes widened, and horror lowered his voice to secret-telling level. “But if we vote it down, you lose double the points.”

  If Kyle played, he’d only lose points. In real life, it was more than bragging rights or his reputation at stake. If he didn’t come up with a second invention soon, his parents and sisters would suffer. The women’s shelter he funded would be forced to shut its doors. He could handle the fallout himself, but failing his family would be unforgivable. He’d created the Medi-Spy to honor his grandfather, an iron worker who’d suffered a stroke in the heat. He’d always meant for the money to bring his family closer. That wouldn’t happen if he defaulted on the terms of Medi-Spy’s sale.