by Marks, V. R.
"But there's no reason we'd have to spend those nights here." He left the statement dangling in front of her.
Before she could think of a suitable response she heard his mother's voice. "We must have blown a fuse last night."
Trish wiped at her tear-stained face. She was a mess. No matter who saw her, nobody was going to think she'd been seduced. But he still wanted to save her the embarrassment his mother had planned.
"Slip behind the door. I'll deal with her."
Their eyes locked. She glanced at his lips for a second. "Thank you," she whispered before brushing her lips lightly against his.
His lungs seized. Oh yeah, there was definitely going to be a date. Because they were going to do that again. Slowly. He stepped forward, but she slipped out of his reach. He headed a few rows back so his mother would have to walk into the room to find him.
As soon as the door was open and their mothers walked into the room, Trish rushed out of the cellar, skirts swirling around her legs.
"I just don't know where they could be. The last time I saw them they were down here getting wine. She came around the corner. "Jack, have you been here all night?"
"You know I have. You locked me in here."
He watched as his mother looked around, clearly confused.
He leaned forward and whispered low enough so only his mother could hear, "She's gone. And after last night, she'll never come back. Hope that was your plan."
"I told you she would never spend the night down here," Mrs. Robbins stated. "Jack, do you know where Patricia is?"
"Did you check all the rooms upstairs? She had a bit to drink. Maybe she just fell asleep in one of the spare rooms."
Mrs. Robbins headed out the door and up the stairs.
Jack turned on his mother. "Really Mother, this isn't 1689. Even if was, it wouldn't have mattered. She was terrified, worrying about the ground pressing in on all sides, the weight of the house over her head, no way out…"
He heard his mother's sharp intake of breath. He glared at her and continued, "You've really done it this time, Mother."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Stop meddling. I was going to ask her out last night, but you had to take matters into your own hands. And instead of getting the opportunity to plead my case, I spent the night trying to keep her from losing her mind completely. When I wasn't plotting my escape from you."
He stormed out and slammed and locked the door before his mother got to it.
"Jack! Open this door this instant. This isn't funny!"
"No, it isn't. Good thing you're not terrified of being buried alive."
He turned and caught his father staring at him. He raised an eyebrow, but his father turned toward the stairs. "Let's see if we can find Trish. I'm sure she'd like some clean clothes and breakfast?"
"Definitely," Jack agreed.
Twenty minutes later, Trish was sitting at the breakfast table, wearing Jack's sweats, looking good enough to eat. She'd washed off her make up and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Her parents had joined Jack and his father. No one asked where his mother was and no one suggested a speedy marriage ceremony.
Her mother kept eyeing them both speculatively, but Jack ignored it. Whatever was or wasn't between him and Trish, was between the two of them. His mother, her mother and the rest of the town could go find some other soap opera to watch.
"I'm so sorry I worried everyone," Trish said, her eyes locked with his. "I never intended to fall asleep."
He'd spend the rest of this vacation wondering what she meant by that. Because she'd been pretty damn clear last night that she wasn't moving forward with him. Yet. He stood up and began collecting people's plates.
Trish jumped up. "I'll help. It's the least I can do."
She followed behind him, offering to bring coffee back for refills. He dumped the dishes in the sink. When she'd deposited hers there, he reached for her hand. "I'm sorry about all of this."
She smiled. "You kept me sane. Thank you."
"The last thing you should be doing is thanking me. If it weren't for my mother, you wouldn't have been down there to begin with. Maybe in a few years you'll get the chance to meet me."
"Jack, I saw the man you are when we were locked up down there. You could have taken advantage of the situation to get what you wanted. But you didn't. You respected me, comforted me, and protected my reputation." She stood on tip-toe and kissed his cheek lightly. "Don't you see? You got your date. Just not the way you intended."
"I want a do-over," he said softly as he handed her the sprig of mistletoe. "A reminder of the evening."
She plucked it out of his hand and twirled it between her fingers. "I'm sorry it wasn't lucky for you."
"Who says it wasn't?" He plucked the mistletoe out of her hand and held it over her head. Slipping his arm around her waist felt as natural this morning as if he'd been doing it for years. He gave her plenty of time to stop him as he lowered his head, but she met him halfway. Their lips touched and he felt the same zing of electricity he'd felt when she'd brushed his lips earlier. He took his time deepening the kiss, learning what she liked, they liked.
As they broke apart, he understood what she'd talked about the night before. He didn't know if his toes had curled, but he definitely could have kissed her for a week without coming up for air. From the looks of things, she felt the same way.
She lightly brushed her finger against his lower lip. "This is crazy. We're both leaving for years."
"I've heard there are some great schools in Raleigh," he replied before kissing the tip of her nose. "In the meantime, what are you doing New Year's Eve?"
The End
Enjoy the first chapter of
The Heiress and Her Fake Fiancé
By Kimberly Hope
Chapter 1
Jessica was on her knees when the door opened. A pair of palm tree and parrot boxers appeared at the end of her nose and she jerked back. Startled, she flailed her arms and nearly lost her cell phone as she plunked onto her behind.
“What the-?” The man’s scotch and soda voice barely registered as she continued to stare at the tropical-colored silk parrots. Green, red and blue birds stared back as the morning paper slipped from her grasp.
“Aloha,” she whispered. Bill’s confused voice in her ear reminded her that her fiancé was still on the phone. “I, uh, I’ll call you later.” She snapped the phone shut.
Tired from her trip, Jessica remained where she had fallen on the porch and gaped at the man standing in the doorway before her. Matt Lawson.
Too bad Blakely, North Carolina didn’t have a beefcake calendar for charity. Matt’s wide shoulders and tan chest with its sprinkling of dark hair would have sold out in seconds. The boy who had filled her adolescent fantasies was all man now. And judging from the water droplets in his dark brown hair, he’d just taken a shower.
“Squirt?” Disbelief tinged his voice.
Would nothing ever change?
She took the hand he offered. The warmth of his touch zinged up her arm and she pulled away as soon as she was on her feet. Apparently her teenage attraction to him hadn’t died. If anything, it was stronger. “Good morning, Matt. What are you doing here?” In your underwear.
Rather than continue to stare at his chest, great though it was, Jessica made the mistake of looking into his chocolate brown eyes. Sheer heaven. He broke the connection first, his gaze wandering down the length of her.
She fidgeted under his scrutiny. Glancing down at her worn tennis shoes, she caught a glimpse of his underwear again. A tickle of excitement touched her stomach and she looked away; anywhere was better. Well, less tempting anyway. A white lace curtain fluttered shut in a window down the street. “Great. We’ve been spotted.”
Matt looked in the direction she pointed and cursed softly, mirroring her thoughts. “The damage is done. You better come in. Then you can tell me why you’re on my doorstep at 5:30 in the morning.”
“Your doors
tep?” she whispered as she stared at his retreating back, and gripped the banister next to her to keep the panic at bay. It couldn’t be. Her grandmother had told her she would have the privacy she needed to lick her wounds.
She followed him down the beaded board hallway and into the bright yellow kitchen, where she had spent so many summer mornings throughout the years. “What are you talking about?”
The scent of nutty, fresh coffee made her knees weak. Matt leaned against the counter and picked up a steaming cup. “I live here, Squirt.” He motioned to the coffeepot and she nodded absently. Matt pulled out another mug and filled it, adding milk at her request.
Taking the cup he offered, her fingers brushed against his and awareness jolted her. She jerked back, but managed to keep the coffee from sloshing over the edge. She touched the diamond on her hand, reminding her she was promised to someone else. At least right now.
“Don’t call me Squirt. I always hated it.” A bowl of quickly disintegrating flakes of some sort sat, ignored, on the table. Jessica looked from the coffee pot that wasn’t her grandmother’s, to the landscaping book on the table, and finally, back to Matt. “Oh, no. She wouldn’t have. She knew I needed time alone.”
Jessica dropped into a chair that, unfortunately, put her back at eye level with the parrots and palm trees.
Living at the beach, she had seen Matt in swimming trunks for most of her life. But the effect of seeing him in his underwear was electrifying. Her gaze followed the sprinkling of hair on his chest lower, until it tapered down and was concealed by his waistband. She shouldn’t be looking, but couldn’t help herself. She never imagined getting this chance.
Good Lord, were the birds wearing leis? She found herself leaning forward, fascinated by the sheer tackiness of it all.
Matt cleared his throat. Jessica’s face heated as she pulled back. Great. She’d been caught in a close inspection of his underwear. What was he thinking? “Uh, sorry. Must have been some luau.”
Rich laughter washed over her. His grin teased hers in response. “No comment. Jess, why are you here?”
She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, pulling it away from her face and yawned. “To go to bed.”
“Is that an offer?”
Matt Lawson was not flirting with her. He couldn’t be. Not now. He was ten years too late and had made his feelings clear then. Jessica swallowed hard and glanced at him. A parrot winked back. “Uh, Matt, would you mind getting dressed?”
He shot her a decidedly wicked grin. “I’m pretty comfortable actually.”
“Matt!” Just like when they were kids, he knew which buttons to push. The problem was, looking at him in all his exposed glory, he was pushing buttons that weren’t his to push.
Desperation gripped her. She couldn’t be held responsible for her actions if he stayed that way. A woman could only take so much temptation. Right now she was too tired to fight it.
Too hurt.
She closed her eyes, her last defense.
“I’ll be right back.” His abs rippled as he pushed off the counter and Jessica swallowed a sigh.
Her mouth went dry. Twisting the diamond ring on her left hand, She groaned and dropped her head onto the table. This was, without a doubt, the worst week of her life. And it didn’t look like things were about to get better.
***
Matt pulled on a red State University t-shirt.
Little Jessica Heymore wasn’t little anymore. It had been ten years since he last saw her, and he’d messed that up royally. Close to fifteen years since they hung out together. She’d been a freshman in high school his senior year.
Suddenly, he wished he hadn’t gone anywhere. A jaw-droppingly beautiful woman had taken the place of the girl he knew. With legs that went on forever, honey blonde hair he wanted to muss, and a body that had him looking for the nearest bed.
And he’d missed the transformation.
But why was she back in Blakely? The last her grandmother had told him, she was in Chicago, working towards a big promotion. While he had never wanted to leave Blakely, Jessica couldn’t leave fast enough. Just like Sarah.
Jessica leaving was probably for the best, since it never would have worked between them anyway. The heiress and the lawn boy wouldn’t have gone over well in her house.
Whatever the reason, she needed to get out of his house quickly, before word spread he was entertaining women at five in the morning. He’d have a hard enough time explaining things as it was. She obviously hadn’t expected him to be there so she’d leave soon enough, he reasoned.
Matt pulled on a pair of faded jeans over his lucky boxers and padded back downstairs. When he got to the kitchen, he leaned against the doorframe and tried not to drool. Bent over, her firm behind in the air, Jessica was digging around in the refrigerator. Nothing sexier than a woman in well-fitting jeans and a white tank top, he thought. Especially when she was muttering in his kitchen.
“Looking for something?”
Jessica raised her head too quickly and bumped it on the freezer door. “Ouch.” Rubbing her head, she turned. “Something to eat. Like a doughnut.”
“Sorry. All out. I wasn’t expecting company.” She had the decency to look uncomfortable.
“Oops,” she said, giving him a watery smile and blushing. “Habit. Grandma Vi always had something sweet to eat stashed in here and I’m starved. Besides, you always used to come in and dig around without asking.” This time her smile looked genuine.
“So, Squirt, want to tell me why you’re here?”
She started rummaging through his cupboards. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. What are you looking for?” Not that it mattered. Watching her stretch to see the upper shelves was almost as good a view as when she had been bent over. Almost.
“Something without any nutritional merit to eat for breakfast.”
And she wouldn’t talk until she found it. Jessica had single-minded determination when it came to junk food. Matt sighed and stepped behind her. His knee brushed the back of her thigh and she spun around, eyes wide.
“What are you doing?”
He stared into eyes the color of moss and tried to ignore the jolt of awareness that still ricocheted through his body from the accidental touch.
He swallowed his desire. He wanted a wife, but Jessica wasn’t the one. Whatever brought her home wouldn’t hold her there for long.
He’d missed her, although he hadn’t realized it until just then. Reaching around her, he pulled a Hershey bar off the top shelf.
“Finding your breakfast.” He held the chocolate bar just out of reach. “But if you want any, you have to talk first.”
“Fine. But I could really use another cup of coffee.”
Negotiations had always been a part of their relationship, whether it was teaching her to throw a baseball or bartering over the cherry on top of his milkshake. And she usually got what she wanted.
“So, what brought you back to town?”
When she stared quietly into her coffee, Matt waved the chocolate bar under her nose.
“I need a place to stay.” The words tumbled out.
Matt broke off a piece of chocolate and handed it to her. “Did it ever occur to you to call?” he asked, as she slipped the candy between her lips.
It wasn’t like Jessica to do something without making a plan first. Or to look so tempting eating chocolate. Of course the last time he saw her with a candy bar, she would have been about 12. Did she have any idea what watching her lick the corners of her mouth was doing to him? Probably not. If she did, she’d have left the room in fear of being consumed.
“I did call. Gran told me I could stay as long as I needed to.”
He choked on his coffee. “Vi said what?”
“You heard me.” She took a deep sip of hers. “This is good. It’s the first decent pot I’ve tasted since Indianapolis.”
His blood cooled instantly. “You didn’t drive straight through, did you?”
; She glared at him. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Chicago to the Carolina coast, in one night, is murder.” The thought of Jessica stopping in truck stops alone, in the middle of the night, turned his blood to ice.
“You’ve done it?”
“What I’ve done doesn’t matter.” Making her angry wasn’t going to get him answers. “Jess, it’s what, eighteen hours? What are you running from?”
The Atlantic breeze coming through the window blew a strand of hair across her face. He ached to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. She met his gaze for a minute. Before she looked away he thought he saw a hint of pain in her expression. “It doesn’t really matter.”
And just like that, he knew the conversation was over. She’d tell him when she was ready. If she was ever ready. He handed her another piece of chocolate and almost groaned aloud when the tip of her tongue touched her lips before slipping the next piece into her mouth.
Crumpling the wrapper, he focused on the problem at hand. They needed to get things straightened out. Right now. Because she had to be gone before tonight. Finding a wife was hard enough without having to explain why he was living with another woman.
“When did you last see Gran?”
Her question pulled him away from the images of impending disaster. He could handle it. A quick phone call would have her out of his house. “Wednesday.”
“And she didn’t mention I was coming down?”
“No.” That was strange, but Vi might not have known when she was coming. Or not believed she was coming. It had been ten years. Even if Jess had called and told him, he wouldn’t have believed it until her Porsche rumbled down the street.
“I don’t understand. Why are you here?”
At her confused look, he replied, “Vi asked me to housesit for a year while she decided whether or not she could stand that retirement community of hers. She said she wanted someone on site, couldn’t stand the idea of the house being empty.”
Matt reached out and stroked the wainscoting he had installed recently. “We’ve even talked about me buying it if things work out at Shady Elms.” With her approval, he had been updating appliances and making improvements to the house. Except in the yard.