by Julie Benson
A desperate need to discover who went with the voice drove Zane forward toward the ballroom. Afraid to disturb the singer, he peered around the corner. His breath caught in his throat at the sight he discovered. McKenna? How could the hypnotic voice filled with such passion come from such an uptight, controlling woman?
But there she was, singing while she swept the floor.
Not ready for her performance to end, he slid behind the corner as much as possible while being able to watch. Barefoot, her brown hair coming loose from her god-awful bun, tendrils curled around her face softening her features. Her skin glowed with a rosy hue as she glided over the floor with her broom partner. How could singing transform her? While she wasn’t classically beautiful like Cassie or Grace, this McKenna was anything but dowdy. Her voice throbbed with desire. The kind that only came from a woman whose passion ran deep and smoldering.
Danger warnings clanged in his head, snapping him out of his haze. What was he thinking? She had a gorgeous voice. So what? The only reason he felt drawn to her was because of her song choice. If she chose a different one, he wouldn’t have this intimate reaction.
He stepped into the light. McKenna spotted him and froze. Her smile disappeared and the beautiful voice that had filled the air died. She tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears, smoothed a hand down her skirt, and straightened. The all-work-and-no-fun wedding planner returned. “Did you lose something? I can show you where we keep found items.”
“You have an incredible voice.” His voice, almost as husky as hers when she sang, startled him. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard as he tried to control his racing heart. “Did you know that’s Ginny’s favorite song?”
“I did. She sings it around the office and plays the Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald albums that it’s on. She says it makes her feel close to your grandfather since it was their song.”
“Have you considered a singing career?”
McKenna shook her head and paled. Pain flashed in her brown eyes. “I could never sing in front of anyone.”
The confident, assertive, in-control woman he’d met tonight who put him in his place multiple times and turned him down for a dance feared performing? What a waste of a beautiful gift.
“A lot of well-known singers suffer from stage fright. There are ways to cope with it,” Zane said.
She grabbed the dustpan, scooped up the pile at her feet, and dumped the contents into the nearby industrial gray garbage can. “It doesn’t matter because the music field is too unpredictable. One minute you’re on the top. The next no one remembers your name, and that’s only for the one in a million who make it. Most people don’t earn enough to pay the electric bill much less a living wage. That’s the good thing about the wedding industry. People are always getting married.”
“Some multiple times.”
“You speaking from personal experience?”
Lord, no. He was smart enough to learn from his parents’ mistakes rather than repeat them. “Between my parents, they’ve been married five times.”
“That had to be rough. I bet you no sooner got accustomed to a stepparent and they were gone.”
“It didn’t affect me since I lived here.” He chuckled.
“Ginny said you moved to the ranch when you were in middle school. Why was that?”
He stiffened. No way in hell would he answer that question.
Instead, he glanced around the slick, modern rustic space. “I like the old barn better.”
“You’re not a fan of western weddings?”
“I am because it’s provided an income for Ginny.” Zane stopped and remembered his reason for returning, getting her to dance. How had he gotten so far off track, talking to her about his parents’ stellar marital examples? He rarely talked about them to his best friends, much less to a woman he just met.
“I’m done here, and the rest of the staff is gone, do you have keys to lock up?” McKenna asked, pulling him back to their conversation. He nodded, but before he responded she continued. “Good. I’ll show you where we keep lost items and head out.”
What? This hadn’t gone the way he planned. “Hold on. I thought since the guests are gone and no one will catch napkins on fire or start a drunken brawl we could have that dance.”
McKenna stared at him. “Has anyone ever told you you’re over the top with persistence?”
“Only when I want something.”
Chapter Three
Zane’s husky voice wrapped around McKenna, feeling as intimate as a caress. Her body urged her to accept his invitation, arguing no harm could come of a simple dance, especially since they were alone.
But common sense insisted mixing work and her personal life, especially with her boss’s grandson, could derail her career plans, and she refused to take the risk. Despite knowing the sensible response, staring into Zane’s handsome face as he flashed her a hypnotizing smile, she wavered. The man could wrangle a sizeable donation from a miser.
“You know you want to say yes,” Zane said, as if sensing her hesitation.
Once in her life she wanted to pretend she was the belle of the ball instead of the girl who planned the party. She wanted to live on the wild side instead of treading the responsible path. She wanted to be the woman who lived a dream.
You could do that. You could dance with the man every single woman fantasized about all night. No one is here. That eliminates the risk of anyone knowing.
Then tomorrow she’d return to work. Zane would resume caring for Ginny. When they ran into each other, they’d smile and make polite conversation before moving on.
Never date a man who’s more attractive than you are.
Her mother’s advice had rattled in the back of her brain all night. Attractive people drifted toward other beautiful people. And she was as common as a dandelion. Zane asking her to dance and his persistence bothered her. She’d asked him that straight out, but instead of answering, he’d acted as if she’d wounded his pride.
Experience had taught her nothing good happened when she ignored her gut instincts or broke the rules. “I know something’s not right here, but more importantly, my mama told me to never date a man who’s better looking than I am.”
He laughed. “I’m not asking you for a date, only a dance. That’s—”
“As far as I’m concerned, I’ve taken her advice to mean never date or have anything to do on a personal level with a man who’s more attractive than I am.”
Then she turned and walked out of the ballroom.
*
Tuesday morning as McKenna stared into her closet, she found herself grateful to be going into work. Helping her sister after her go-round with Zane meant the weekend had worn her out, both emotionally and physically.
She couldn’t believe what she’d said to Zane. I never date or have anything to do on a personal level with a man who’s more attractive than I am. Talk about blunt and a social faux pas. Despite that, she didn’t regret her comment. Whatever his reason for asking her to dance, now she and Zane had a clear understanding. While possibly awkward when she encountered him, she’d handle it with a quick hello and benign chitchat.
Dismissing Zane, she turned her attention to her closet. Excited to start her first full week in charge, she selected a black suit and a pale blue blouse then added a simple pearl necklace, earrings, and black pumps. After dressing, she headed into the living room of her 1950s two-bedroom ranch house.
She uncovered Captain Jack Parrot’s birdcage and smiled. Having always wanted a pet, but been turned down because her mother insisted they were too messy, when McKenna got her first apartment, she researched pets. She discovered cats and dogs required more attention and care than she had time for. However, birds proved lower maintenance yet were social, intelligent, and great in small apartments.
“Good morning, handsome,” she said as she gave him fresh food and water.
Instead of answering, Captain Jack turned his back on her.
“Still mad, I
see. I’m sorry I was gone. I couldn’t help it. I had to help Erin.”
At the mention of her sister’s name, Captain Jack spun around. “It’s all a bad dream.”
Maybe it had been a mistake teaching him some of the other Captain Jack’s famous lines but dealing with Erin’s latest crisis had been a bad dream. When McKenna arrived, Erin appeared more fragile and vulnerable than she’d ever seen. Her right eye black, bruises on her arms from where Lance’s fingers had dug into her skin, stiff and sore from bruised ribs, she shuffled across the room to greet McKenna. As horrible as Erin’s injuries were, McKenna had said a thankful prayer they weren’t more severe. Unfortunately, she suspected her sister’s emotional injuries wouldn’t heal as quickly as the physical ones.
Unable to help her sister heal other than listen, McKenna focused on accomplishing tasks. Sunday, she and Erin met with the apartment manager to see about getting her moved to a different complex. After getting possibilities, they checked them out online. Next, they hammered out a budget. Monday, they started the process to obtain a protective order against Lance. By the time McKenna left, Erin felt more optimistic about her future, while McKenna felt she’d spent her weekend overseeing a two-day therapy session while running a marathon.
“Quit being stubborn, Jack. I’ll make up for it tonight. I promise. Now I’m off to work,” she said as she grabbed her gray tote containing her work laptop and other essentials for her twelve-minute commute.
Once on Throckmorton Avenue, the main street through town, she passed a variety of businesses. Hardware, clothing boutiques, an art gallery featuring Cassie Reynolds-Barnett’s work and other local artisans, as well as a couple antique stores and restaurants, all resided on the town square.
But what kept the town alive was tourism, thanks to the wishing well, and its legend. While she hadn’t visited the well, she’d heard the legend. Supposedly only those wishes made for another by someone with “the purest of heart, out of the deep and abiding love” like the two original sisters shared would come true.
After leaving the square, more houses came into view and then on the edge of town, was the newer part of town with the Brookshires grocery store and the Walmart. While moving to Wishing had been a culture shock after Houston, there was something about this town. More than simply its picture-postcard beauty. She enjoyed the slower pace, the emphasis on community and family a big city couldn’t replicate. As a child having moved so often, she quit counting by middle school. The fact that most people had lived here for generations appealed to her. Women her age had aunts, uncles, cousins, and their children often living in town or nearby. No spending Christmas or any other holiday alone with that many relatives around.
Past the Walmart were farms and ranches. As the houses grew farther apart, she drove a couple more miles and turned onto a two-lane blacktop road which led to the ranch. A minute later she headed down the long gravel drive to the big barn, as Ginny called it, which housed the Lucky Stars Weddings offices, a ballroom, and a small kitchen.
After parking, rather than going in the front barn doors, McKenna walked around back to the office entrance, then through a small outer room treated as a mud room. Once inside the office, she froze. There in the main, large open area with a small round table with four chairs, bookshelves for samples, and a few armchairs, sat Zane on a yoga mat. Shirtless, wearing only sleek black athletic pants, feminine appreciation for the male form on display sent blood surging through her. Every nerve stood at attention, ready for action. Her body flushed and her breathing accelerated. If she felt this tingly merely looking, what would it have felt like to be in Zane’s arms dancing? Thank goodness she’d said no.
His eyes closed, his chin tilted upward, Zane sat crisscross applesauce as her kindergarten teacher used to say. His powerful arms rested on his knees, but what caught her attention was his bare chest. Magnificent with unbelievably well-defined muscles, made it impossible to look away.
“What’re you doing here?” McKenna blurted out, flinching at her sharp tone.
His eyes remained closed. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m doing yoga. You should try it. You sound tense this morning.”
What woman wouldn’t sound wound up walking in to find a half-dressed Zane in her office? The sight of him fully clothed could brighten Grumpy Cat’s day.
Get your mind on work and off his fabulous body. Think about your goals. This is your big chance to impress Ginny. Don’t let his good looks and great body throw you off stride.
“I know you’re doing yoga. I meant what are you doing here in this office.” She paused, and realizing how what she said sounded, rushed to make amends. “Of course, you have every right to be in the office since it’s your grandmother’s business. I simply didn’t expect you to be here. I thought you’d be with Ginny in the house.”
Great job not letting him throw you. You sounded completely in control. Not.
“Good morning to you, too.” He stood, grabbed his mat, and rolled it up. “Impressive shiner you got there. How’s the nose feeling?”
How was she supposed to talk to him when he stood there bare chested? Focusing on his chin, she replied, “My nose is a little tender, but I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”
“You could’ve stayed home.”
“I may not look my best, but I won’t let a black eye and swollen nose keep me from my responsibilities. I have work that needs to be seen to. I have orders to check on for Susannah Timmons’s wedding. With her shortened timeline because she had her heart set on a New Year’s Eve wedding but didn’t want to wait until next year, I have to ensure we stay on track.”
“Has anyone ever told you how fast you talk?” he asked as he strode past her into Ginny’s office and closed the door behind him.
McKenna pinched her lips together. What was she doing? No matter what the disaster, she remained calm and in control. Except when Zane was around.
A minute later when the door opened, he’d changed into jeans, a red plaid western shirt, and cowboy boots. No one would ever guess he’d lived in California for ten years. Behind him sprawled over Ginny’s antique desk were papers and a laptop connected to a separate monitor. She frowned. He’d commandeered Ginny’s office?
“Have a seat. We need to talk.” He pointed to the antique upholstered regency desk chair in Ginny’s office.
McKenna clutched her hands in front of her to keep from picking at her nails. Nothing good in personal relationships or work settings ever came from someone saying those two phrases. What could Zane need to talk to her about when they had neither?
As she settled onto the chair, she resisted the urge to grab the arms for support. She was good at what she did, and the only employee able to run Lucky Stars Weddings. That meant this couldn’t be about her job. Ruling work out left their interaction Friday night. “Is this about Friday night? If so—”
“I’m fine with the other night. You?” She nodded, and he continued. “We need to discuss us working here.”
He intended to work here? In Ginny’s office? In her office? Not a chance. Ginny left her in charge, and she refused to have potential clients arrive to see him at Ginny’s desk playing video games. That was not the image she wanted this business to portray while she ran it.
Appear in control no matter what chaos is going around you or inside you. But tread carefully.
Staring straight ahead at the wall, she tried to compose her response, noticing the shadow box on the wall behind Ginny’s desk was crooked. She tried to ignore the fact but when she couldn’t, she walked behind the desk.
“What’re you doing?”
“The shadow box is crooked.” After straightening it, she returned to her seat. “You look a lot like your grandfather.”
“That’s what Ginny says.”
What if rather than indicating she didn’t want Zane here she flipped the situation? Explain why working in the office won’t be good for him.
Confident in her approach, McKenna relaxed. “Back to you working here. I�
��m worried this space won’t be productive for you. I’m on the phone almost nonstop dealing with vendors, checking on deliveries, and dealing with panicked brides. You can’t imagine how long it takes with the latter. We also frequently have appointments. Some days the door barely closes before it swings open again. People touring the space, brides, their mothers, and sometimes bridesmaids, oohing and aahing over color schemes, flowers, and a million other details. I imagine for a creative person, there would be too many distractions and interruptions here to be productive.”
Nicely done. McKenna sank back in her chair, relieved. She remained calm, logical, and rational, laying out a strong case. Nothing she said sounded as if he wasn’t welcome, rather she expressed concern for him. Surely, he’d agree with her assessment and announce he’d find a more suitable workspace.
Zane nodded to the complex computer system on Ginny’s desk. “Normally I won’t have this setup here when I’m seeing to Ginny’s business, but I had changes to go over—”
“Seeing to Ginny’s business? As in Lucky Stars Weddings?”
She scooted forward in her seat. Her back straight, her hands clutched the delicate chair arms so tight her knuckles cracked.
He nodded. “I’m taking over while Ginny’s recovering.”
“No, that can’t be right. She and I spent hours developing a detailed management plan to handle whatever might arise, along with the financials, during her absence. I thought you’d be seeing to her care, running errands, and helping her with physical therapy.”
“I hired a nurse to be with her during the day. That frees me to manage this business and see to my job in California.”