He shifted slightly, watching Peyton settle in her chair and fold her hands in her lap. Her crossed legs and jutted chin told Matteo one thing: she’d already ended the date. Gabriel Shurley. Strike seven.
Matteo sipped his club soda and set a countdown as to when he could have Carlos pick them up.
The large shadow loomed a moment, long enough to have Matteo looking to his left as a tall, elderly gentleman lowered himself onto the barstool beside him. The restaurant was crowded, as was the bar. The man removed his well-worn cowboy hat, which looked as if it had seen as many hot Midwestern summers as its owner.
“Evening,” the man said and motioned to the bartender. “Hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want to intrude on the happy couple over there.”
Matteo glanced across the bar to where a young couple with empty seats on either side of them were utterly immersed in one another. Matteo could see the faintest hint of a bulge in the man’s jacket pocket, about the size of a ring box. The way the same man kept scrubbing his palms against his thighs had Matteo cringing in sympathy. Poor guy needed to be put out of his misery. “I doubt they would have noticed your presence,” Matteo said. He leaned back in his chair, keeping Peyton in sight. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“Mmm-hmm.” The man nodded and accepted the glass of whiskey he’d asked for, which he downed in one impressive gulp. “My granddaughter. Might need another of these.” He gestured for a refill. “Nerves don’t usually get the best of me, but our family situation is a bit...well, complicated. Elias Blackwell.” He offered his hand.
“Matteo Rossi.” Matteo shook the man’s hand but barely took his eyes off Peyton. He knew her signals by now. She was content with her dining companion. Not ecstatic and certainly not enamored, but she’d see the dinner through because that was what was expected. And if he’d learned anything about her in the past three weeks, it was that Peyton Harrison always did what was expected. And she saw everything through to the end.
“Am I interrupting something?” Elias leaned over, a twinkle in his eye as he pointed discreetly at Peyton and her dinner date. “Or are you waiting for her to realize she has about as much chemistry with that pressed suit as I do with the queen of England?”
Matteo chuckled. “Professional interest.” He had the feeling that if the man heard Matteo was there as Peyton’s personal protection, it would only illicit uncomfortable questions. “I’m her get-out-of-jail card,” he added and earned a sharp laugh from Elias. “Just waiting for the signal.”
When his phone buzzed again, Matteo stifled a sigh and flipped it screen-up on the bar. His son’s face was showing on the screen and had Matteo on alert.
“That your boy?” Elias glanced down.
“Yes.” Gino rarely called him, and when he did, it was usually to tell Matteo how lonely he was being cooped up in the Tokyo apartment with only the nanny for company.
“If you need to take it, I can keep an eye on your...professional interest.”
Matteo cringed. “I really shouldn’t—”
“Talk to your boy,” Elias said. “Trust me. You never know when you might not get another chance.” He patted Matteo’s arm. “Go on. The sooner you take it, the sooner you’ll be back. Stay in sight. I’ll signal you if she needs you.”
Guilt battled against obligation. He’d always told Gino he’d be there when he called. Even if he was working. He had to keep that promise, especially since it was a promise that had never been kept for him. “Thanks. I’ll be quick.” He picked up the phone just before the voice mail clicked on. “Gino? Hey, buddy. What’s going on?”
“Mom said she’d call you.”
“She did. I’m sorry, G, but I’m working.” He walked around the bar toward the front door where the reception was better. “Everything okay?”
“I want to come live with you,” Gino announced. “Why can’t I come live with you?”
Matteo’s heart splintered. “I’d love for you to, G, but we’ve talked about this. Your mom—”
“Mom doesn’t want me anymore.” Gino’s breath hitched, and it was all Matteo could do not to reach through the phone and hug him.
“That’s not true, G. She loves—”
“She’s having a new baby.”
Matteo winced. Well, wasn’t that just great. “G, your mother loves you. Nothing, not even a new baby, is going to change that.” Matteo’s heart pounded in his chest. Of all times for this to come down. He was so close to that promotion—a promotion that would finally give him enough money that he could challenge Sylvia’s full-time custody in court. Getting distracted while on assignment like this wasn’t going to do him any good. “I’m sure your mom wants you to stay with her, bud. I’ll talk to her as soon as I can.”
The silence on the other end of the line had Matteo thinking they’d been disconnected.
“Don’t you want me, either?”
“Gino, no. Of course I do, buddy.” Matteo leaned against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. “You know that’s not true. I would love to have you with me all the time, but we can’t just—”
“That’s okay. Never mind.”
Even half a world away, Matteo heard the tears in his son’s voice. “G, I will mind. I hear you, and I’m going to talk to your mom, and we’ll work this out. Maybe she’ll let you come out for a bit when school’s out. That’s only a couple of weeks, right?”
“Yeah. Okay. I need to go now. Bye, Dad.”
“G, wait—” But it was too late. The line went dead.
Matteo took a deep breath and banged his head back against the wall, even as a flash of red shot across his eyeline. Peyton. She was on the move.
Matteo started over to the bar, to where Peyton was headed, her laser-beam focus on his empty seat. He swore, pocketed his phone and dodged through a large party on their way to being seated. She must have sent a signal he’d missed. Something had gone wrong, and she was looking for her backup.
When Matteo finally got back to his seat, he had the apology and explanation poised behind tense lips. “Ms. Harrison, I’m sorry. I had to take a—” It took an instant for him to realize he wasn’t the target of her attention. She was standing in front of Elias Blackwell, hands on those curvy hips of hers, impatient fingers tapping against the fabric even as her hair swirled around her shoulders. “Do you two...” He glanced at Elias, who was holding on to his second whiskey glass, an amused grin on his face. “Do you two know each other?”
“After a fashion,” Peyton said without taking her eyes off Elias. “Matteo Rossi, meet—” now she smirked and in that instant, Matteo saw the resemblance “—my grandfather.”
CHAPTER TWO
“IF THAT AIN’T music to an old man’s ears.” Elias Blackwell offered a hand to Matteo along with a sly smile that had Peyton gnashing her teeth. She’d always taken meticulous care to keep her private and personal lives separate. She did not need this invasion. Not now. Not ever.
“Do you know,” Peyton’s grandfather continued when Matteo returned the greeting, “one day I’ve got my life and ranch full of five grandsons and their expanding families, and the next, I’ve got five granddaughters to add to the mix. Best and biggest surprise of my life, I can tell you. Pleased to meet you, son.”
“Matteo Rossi,” Matteo supplied easily before glancing over to Peyton’s table. “You scare off another one?”
“No, I did not scare off another...” She turned and followed his gaze and found her table was empty. “Darn it.” She closed her eyes, a flush creeping into her cheeks. “Mr. Josiah is going to strangle me.”
“I definitely wouldn’t ask for a refund.” Matteo’s unexpected grin had Peyton’s stomach taking a funny little leap.
“I guess that means you can join me for dinner, then.” Big E rose from his stool. “We’ll just take that table of yours, shall we?”
For a big man, Peyton though
t, he sure did move fast. Even if she’d wanted to protest, she didn’t have time. She folded her arms across her chest.
The humor died in Matteo’s eyes. “We can leave anytime you want. Just say the word.”
“What makes you think I want to leave?” She didn’t like the idea he could read her so well.
“Because I’m fluent in body language for a living, and that’s your I don’t want to deal with this pose.” He pulled out his wallet to pay for his drink. “I’ve got Carlos ready to go.”
Peyton tapped her foot. She’d spent the last two months trying not to think about the messy state her family was in. She’d spent the last few weeks dodging Big E’s calls and attempts to meet. She was finally on a better footing with her sisters; she didn’t need to add an interfering, brand-new grandfather to the mix. Given what she’d learned about Big E, however, she shouldn’t be surprised that he’d turned up this way.
What the heck? The evening was a loss, anyway. Might as well bite whatever bullet he’d have in his six-shooter and get this over with.
“I’ll stay,” Peyton said finally. “I have to deal with this, with him, at some point, and a public place is probably best.” Not that she would make a scene. If there was one thing Peyton was known for, it was her utter and complete control over her emotions.
“All right.” Matteo gave a curt nod. “I’ll keep an eye on you from—” He broke off as she and Matteo spotted Big E back at Peyton’s table, waving them over.
“Perfect.” Peyton offered a satisfied smirk and slipped her arm through Matteo’s. “You can join us.” She tugged him with her. “Exactly what should I call you?” she asked Elias as she slipped into her chair.
“Grandpa works.” Big E’s smile broke across his face and lit up his eyes. “Or Big E. Whichever you feel comfortable with.”
“You know what? I don’t want to intrude on a family—” Matteo spoke up, but Big E was already motioning to their server for another chair.
Big E cleared his throat. “You two stay here. I’m going to grab myself another drink. Sit, Matteo.”
“Yes, sir.” He lowered himself into the chair beside Peyton.
“You’re not getting away that easily.” Peyton eyed Matteo, shifted closer to the wall and picked up her wineglass, still half-full. “I need a buffer, and you are it. Even better, you seem to speak Big E.”
“Buffering isn’t usually part of the job.” Seemingly unfazed, he glanced around casually.
“It is now. Look.” She lowered her voice. “I don’t have time to fill you in on all the family drama, but what he said is true. His son was my sisters’ and my biological father. We were all adopted by my stepfather when we were young. The truth about our real dad only came out a couple of months ago. The day of my sister Lily’s wedding. And poof. Instant grandfather.” Instant Blackwells.
“Must have been a difficult thing to learn for all of you. Especially with your sister starting a new life.”
Guilt had her stiffening her spine. “Yeah, well.” She swallowed hard. “Long story short, in the end Lily didn’t get married and instead she ran off to Montana of all places. To Big E’s ranch. She’s getting married this Christmas. For real this time. To a different groom.”
Matteo smothered a laugh. Big E returned to his seat. “I appreciate the invitation to join you,” he said to Big E.
“My pleasure.” Big E set his whiskey down. “Peyton? Another glass of wine?”
“Why not.” When Matteo raised an eyebrow at her, she looked away. It wasn’t every day Big E walked into her life.
Because Peyton had already ordered, they held her food back for when Matteo and Big E were served. In the meantime, she embraced the bread basket and dunked a chunk of freshly baked sourdough into the plate of balsamic-and-pepper-kissed olive oil. She had plans to devour the entire loaf and mentally penciled in an extra half hour on the treadmill in the morning to pay for it.
“Lily sends you her best,” Big E said after the silence stretched to the point of discomfort.
Peyton shook her head. “Starting our relationship off with a lie isn’t a good first step, Big E. She’s not really talking to me, and you know it.”
“Well, it’s not entirely a lie.” He had the good sense to look contrite. “She told me to have a good trip.”
“Is she...” Peyton’s chest tightened. She hated that she had to ask a practical stranger about her sister, but all of the conversations with her sisters of late had been so cursory. “Is she doing all right?”
“She’s doing fine. I wish you girls would get over this hang-up about secrets already. I don’t like you being at odds with each other. You know, Rudy told me the five of you used to be tighter than peas in an overstuffed pod.”
“Things change,” Peyton said. Especially when keeping secrets from those you loved was involved.
“Sure they do. But family’s always the most important thing. I’d think you of all people would realize that, Peyton.”
“Me of all people?” She reached for her wine and suddenly rethought Matteo’s presence. If the conversation continued in this direction, whatever good opinion he did have of her would vanish by the time the tiramisu was served. And for some reason, she didn’t like the idea of him thinking the worst of her.
“You did what was best for your family,” Big E said. “You helped give your sisters the father they needed.”
“I was seven,” Peyton told him, desperate to change the subject. “I didn’t exactly have a choice.” But he was right. Rudy had been—still was, even now that their mother was gone—a wonderful father. The stabilizing force they’d all needed. And for that, Peyton wouldn’t apologize. “What exactly are you doing here, Big E?”
“Well.” Big E sat back as his and Matteo’s salads were served along with an antipasto platter. “A grandfather can only take leaving multiple voice mails for so long. I even tried to make an appointment with you through your assistant, but the nice young man told me you’d instructed him not to take my calls anymore.”
“I’ve been busy.” Peyton broke off another chunk of bread. She always overcarbed when she had to deal with emotional issues.
“Can never be too busy for family,” Big E pronounced. “That’s been a lesson hard learned, let me tell you, but I’ll live by it every day now. As I’m not easily put off, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Have to say, it’s been a while since I’ve tailed someone in a car.”
Peyton’s hand froze halfway to her mouth. “You’ve been following me?”
“Gray sedan?” Matteo rattled off the plate number and continued eating as if he hadn’t just had the mystery of the evening solved.
“Good eye.” Big E nodded in wary appreciation. “I thought maybe you were trying to shake me.” His eyes—the same color as Peyton’s—narrowed. “Why would you be keeping a watch for possible tails?”
“No reason,” Peyton replied quickly. Too quickly. “This looks good.” She plucked a couple of olives and thin-sliced prosciutto off the platter in the center of the table.
“Seems I’m not going to get a straight answer out of my granddaughter about anything.” Big E watched her for a long moment. “Matteo?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, sir.” Matteo didn’t come close to looking flustered. Or intimidated. “If Peyton wants you to know, she’ll tell you.”
“Smart man, staying loyal.” Big E nodded in approval and finished his salad. “I like you, son.”
Matteo seemed to purposely avoid Peyton’s irritated glare. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” she asked. “I’d like to send something out to Carlos for dinner.”
Matteo pushed his chair back and stood up. “I’ll come with you.”
“I can talk to Rosa on my own, thank you.” She plucked up her purse. “Besides, I need to make a stop in the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.” The need for solitud
e, the pressure pushing down on her from every aspect of her life, was making it difficult to breathe, let alone carry on a conversation.
After a quick discussion with Rosa, who was only too happy to send out a meal to Carlos in the parking lot across the street, Peyton withdrew into the hallway near the bathroom and pulled out her cell phone. Before she lost her nerve, she skimmed through her contacts list.
Considering how many times she’d dodged Big E’s calls over the past couple of months, it would serve her right if Fiona didn’t answer now. The knot in her stomach tightened, so she leaned over to try to ease it. Five rings. Six. Please answer. Please answer. Please—
“Hi, Peyton.”
“Fiona.” Peyton forced her name out over the tension in her throat. “Thanks for picking up.” Determination broke through the grief. “I need to talk to someone. I know you all are still mad at me—”
“We aren’t mad anymore, Peyton.” Fiona’s tone softened. “We’re just...confused. We can’t understand how you never told us the truth. When we were kids, sure, but we haven’t been kids for a long time.”
Peyton squeezed her eyes shut. She hadn’t told them because her mother had made her promise. Because, after all the years that had passed, what good would it do? Thomas Blackwell wasn’t coming back. She’d had a hard enough time accepting that herself; why subject her sisters to the same heartache? Rudy had been there every day since he’d walked into their life, and he had never once, not once, disappointed them.
“I don’t know how many more times I can say I’m sorry.” She breathed deeply and shoved the mixed emotions down deep into that place she never let herself access. “I can’t change the past, Fee. For any of us.” And she needed to stop wanting to. “And as much as we need to have that conversation, I’m calling about Big E.”
“Big E as in our grandfather?” Fiona sounded as surprised as Peyton had felt upon finding her grandfather in the bar where she was having a date.
Montana Dreams Page 3