Wrong Brother, Right Match (Anyone but You #3)

by Jennifer Shirk

  “What?” Matt breathed into his fist to warm up his hands. “There was no look.”

  He picked up his gait, and she stumbled a bit to keep up. “Are you sure? Because I could have sworn I saw a look.”

  “Nope. No look.” He stopped once he got to where his truck was parked then looked back at her. “Although if there was a look given—”

  “I knew it!”

  “It might be because he noticed that you’re not wearing an engagement ring.”

  “An engagement ring?” Kennedy blinked, and her right hand covered her left as if she suddenly expected to find one on her finger. “Oh. Um, Justin proposed to me without a ring. He said he didn’t want to surprise me with something I’d probably return.”

  Although she would never have done such a thing. She would have loved and cherished anything Justin would have presented to her.

  “He wants to shop for a ring together, which is very logical. It’s just that…we haven’t had the time yet.” More like he hadn’t had the time yet. But Kennedy had hoped that since they had finally taken some time off together, they could shop for one here in town.

  Matt shoved his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t ask for an explanation.”

  “Oh, I know. But in case, you know, your mom or anyone else asks…” She shivered and dipped her head as the wind picked up.

  Without warning, Matt reached out and began wrapping her scarf more securely around her neck. They stood there, gazes locked for a long moment.

  “Don’t want you to be sick for Christmas,” he murmured.

  Her heart thundered in her ears. Not a good reaction to have to such a simple gesture, so she quickly backed away. “Um, thanks.”

  Matt looked up at the sky. “Feels like it could snow.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. Justin and I double-checked the forecast before we left. Definitely no snow in sight.”

  He sent her a crooked smile. “Are you always so sure of computers and technology? I tend to have pretty good gut feelings about these kinds of things.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Really.”

  “Bet on it?”

  He laughed. “Oh, I see what’s going on,” he said, shaking a finger at her. “If I’m wrong, then you want to have a few of your company cocktail parties at the winery, am I right?”

  She grinned that he would know her so well already. “That’s exactly what I want. So what do you want?”

  “What?”

  “Well, if it does snow—which it won’t, mind you—you need to pick something you would want so we can have an official bet.” She bounced on her toes, raising her brows in anticipation. “So, Mr. Matthew Ellis, what is it that you want?”

  “Something that I want?”

  “Yes, and make it good so we’re even. What is something that you really want?”

  “Hmm…let’s see.” Matt’s eyes danced with amusement as he pretended to think. After almost a minute, his expression grew serious, and he suddenly gazed at her as hot and hard as a branding iron. But before she could ask if something was wrong, he turned and swung open the truck door. “No bet.”

  “No bet? But why?”

  “Because,” he said quietly, “I just realized there’s nothing you could possibly give me that I’d want.” Then he climbed into his truck and slammed the door behind him.

  …

  Matt was strangely quiet after they left the winery, and Kennedy wondered what she did this time to set him off. It seemed she couldn’t do anything right when she was around him. It’d be for the best for both of them if he just took her straight home.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, gazing straight ahead at the road.

  “Not really.” But as soon as her answer left her mouth, her belly betrayed her with a loud growl.

  Stupid loud-mouthed stomach.

  He glanced at her with a smirk. “Not hungry, huh?”

  She flushed. “Okay, maybe I could eat something quick.”

  Matt put on his turn signal. “I know just the place. Afterward, I’ll take you to the pier. There’re some shops along the water you might like to go into.”

  He maneuvered through a few streets downtown and finally stopped at a restaurant called Tim and Kelly’s. Once they walked in and were seated at a table, a pretty blond waitress came up to their table.

  “Matt Ellis!” she exclaimed, planting a fist on her hip. “Boy, if seeing you isn’t like getting an early Christmas present, I don’t know what is. It’s like you all but disappeared off the face of the earth.”

  Matt shifted uncomfortably but smiled back. “Hey, Brittany. I’m just here for lunch, but it’s good to see you, too.”

  “Is it? Because you could have seen me a lot earlier if you’d called me back,” she said, folding her arms.

  Matt rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, I haven’t had a chance.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Things have been really hectic at the winery with the holidays and all.”

  Kennedy cleared her throat. When the waitress looked at her, she gave a little wave. “Hi. Don’t mind me. Just wondering if I could get something to drink while you two finish your not-at-all-awkward discussion.”

  Brittany frowned. “Of course,” she said, pulling out a pen and small tablet. “I know Matt will want his favorite beer that’s on draft this week. What would you like?”

  “Matt has great taste, so whatever he’s having, I’ll have.”

  “You might as well throw in a couple of orders of Tim’s special buffalo wings, too,” Matt added.

  “Great,” Brittany said, sounding a hundred and eighty degrees from great. Then with a cold glance at Matt, she snapped her tablet closed and stalked off toward the bar.

  Kennedy raised her brows at Matt. “Wow, at least our beers will be well chilled.”

  “Sorry about that. I kind of forgot Brittany worked here. We dated a few times.”

  “I gathered as much.”

  He blew out a long breath. “She’s really a nice girl and all, but…”

  “But she was looking for more of a commitment?”

  Before Matt could answer, Brittany returned with their beers, promptly plopping them down in front of them. “Enjoy,” she said with false sweetness.

  After Brittany walked away, Kennedy took a tentative sip of her beer, half fearing the waitress might have poisoned her, but it was cold and citrusy and absolutely delicious.

  Kennedy set her beer down and gave him a long look. “Are you really so opposed to having a relationship again? And if so, I can see why your mom is concerned.”

  “Yes, I’m really not interested. Been there. Done that. And my mom was born concerned. She worried about me even when I was engaged to Sam.”

  “Maybe she had a feeling Sam wasn’t the right woman for you.”

  Matt picked up his beer and hesitated. “Yeah, maybe. Sam never really got along with my parents.”

  Kennedy almost choked. “What? How could she not get along with your mom? She’s a total sweetheart.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not that they didn’t get along. Sam wasn’t exactly the domestic type, and I think that might have grated on my mom’s nerves a bit and created tension. She feared our future children would starve to death before the age of two.”

  Brittany appeared again with a tray of chicken wings and set it on the center of the table, along with extra napkins and blue cheese sauce.

  Matt took a wing and dug in.

  “Did Sam get along with your sister?” she asked.

  Matt sighed. “Enough questions about Sam.” He dropped a chicken bone onto his plate then pointed at the tray. “You’d better eat while they’re hot and there’re still wings left,” he said, picking up another one.

  Matt was right. She didn’t even know why she was so curious about his former fiancée anyway. Kennedy was starving, and the wings did look yummy. She took her fork and dug into a chicken wing, transferring it to her plate. She then picked up h
er knife and began to cut the meat off the bone.

  Matt’s face fell, and the wing he had between his fingers dropped to his plate with a thunk. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Kennedy finished chewing then swallowed. “Same as you. Eating chicken wings.”

  “No. No,” he repeated, shaking his head. “Look, city girl, that is not how you eat chicken wings.”

  “Well, I’m doing it anyway.” She stuck her fork into another piece of meat, placed it in her mouth, then smiled tightly for emphasis.

  “I can’t witness any more of this.” Matt placed a hand over his eyes. “Stop right now. People know me here, for crying out loud.”

  “What in the world are you so worked up about?”

  “The knife-and-fork thing. You do not eat chicken wings with a knife and fork. What, are you from France? You pick one up, like so,” he said, taking one in between both his hands, “bring it to your mouth, and take a bite like every other red-blooded American.”

  She frowned. “I know that, but then I’ll get sauce all over my fingers and face.”

  “Yes! Exactly. Thank you,” he huffed, glancing at the ceiling.

  She laughed at his horrified face as she continued to eat. And then laughed again when his expression turned annoyed from her laughing. Justin never got frustrated with her eating habits. But he was just as fastidious as she was. Hating the idea of getting all messy but not wanting to ruin their lunch over something so trivial, she calmly placed her silverware down and picked up a wing with her hands. “Better, Captain Caveman?”

  “Much.”

  Hiding her amusement, she dunked her wing in blue cheese until it was coated. “You know, these are probably the best wings I’ve had in a long time. I never get to indulge in comfort food like this. Or at least, not very often. Justin prefers seafood or sushi. On special occasions, we’ll grab some Italian in the North End. He’s pretty health conscious these days.”

  Matt took a long swallow of his beer. “Well, you have to splurge around the holidays. It’s in the state statutes.”

  “Thanks for helping me be such a law-abiding citizen, then.”

  “Anytime.” The warmth of his smile echoed in his voice.

  She smiled back and her heart thudded once, before returning to its normal rhythm.

  She looked away. “So, uh, I read in your town newspaper that there’s a Christmas parade this week. Santa will be in a lobster boat float. People are invited to bring their dogs in the parade as long as they’re dressed in some sort of Christmas theme.”

  Matt nodded. “Unfortunately, yes, that is true.”

  “Why unfortunately?”

  “My mother dragged us to that parade my whole childhood, as well as the tree lighting ceremony at City Hall and the gingerbread house competition. I think I’m a little over it.”

  “Well, it sounds like good clean family fun. I want to do all of it.”

  He wiped his hands with a Wet-Nap, looking amused. “And how old are you again?”

  She made a face. “Do you think Caitlyn and your mom will take me?”

  “Of course. They never miss it.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

  Matt cocked his head, studying her. “You know, you surprise me, city girl. I can’t believe you’re really into that hokey small-town stuff.”

  Her cheeks grew warm under Matt’s gaze, and she had to look away. “I know it must seem silly to you, but you don’t understand. I never got to experience stuff like that when I was a kid. You know, the whole Norman Rockwell family experience. Those kinds of memories are priceless.”

  “Come on. Your upbringing couldn’t have been all that bad.”

  She snorted. “It wasn’t all that good, either.”

  “Tell me one good thing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have to have at least one good Christmas memory from your childhood. Tell me what it was.”

  One good memory? No one ever asked her that. Not even Justin.

  She blinked at him then thought back. It didn’t take her long. There was one time that stood out in her mind.

  Kennedy settled back in her chair. “One Christmas Eve, when I was about ten, my mom and her husband—I call him Number Two—had to go to New York City for some business party.”

  “Wait. You call him Number Two because he was your mom’s second husband?”

  “Actually, no. I call him that because he was my mom’s crappiest husband,” she said with a smirk. “Anyway, Number Two didn’t want me to come. He wanted to leave me home with a babysitter on Christmas Eve.”

  “That sucks.”

  She nodded. “Hence, his nickname. But my mom insisted I come with them. She bought me a really pretty dress and everything. So we all went to the party. It was okay. No other kids were there and the food wasn’t what I liked, so I didn’t eat. I could tell Number Two was just waiting for me to complain, so I didn’t dare. Then, after a long while, my mom came over to me and whispered that she and I were going to sneak out of there for a bit. I was so excited. It was like our own little adventure. Just my mom and me. She took my hand, and we tiptoed out of the party as if we were fooling everyone. She hailed a cab, and it took us to the Little Italy. We stopped off at an Italian pastry shop and must have ordered at least six different desserts, where each one was better than the next. Even the hot chocolate was the best I ever had. And we just talked.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “It was, but the best part was that my mom was happy. I didn’t often see her that way, but on that particular day with just me and no one else around, she was truly happy. That was a good day.” She blinked back a tear.

  “That was a very good day,” he said hoarsely. His gray eyes were gentle with understanding. Then without warning, he reached out his hand and gently stroked her cheek.

  Her breath hitched as his touch sent tingles up her arm. She couldn’t help herself and leaned in slightly at the comfort he offered. The warmth of his skin was intoxicating. Sort of like the man himself.

  Little warning signals shot off in her head. What are you doing? Abort! Abort!

  She jerked her head back.

  Matt immediately dropped his arm. “Sorry,” he blurted, looking just as shaken as she felt. “You, uh, had some wing sauce on your face.” He quickly signaled the waitress for their check.

  “Oh, right. Thanks.” Shame filled her for enjoying his touch, but she sent him a tight smile then picked up her napkin and began to wipe where his fingers had just rested.

  She had a feeling nothing was on her face. But she continued to scrub anyway, all too willing to play along with his lie and hope it was true. For both their sakes.

  …

  “Matt, are you sure you won’t stay for dinner?” his mom asked.

  He dug his hand into the bowl on his lap and shoved another fistful of popcorn into his mouth. “No, I’m good,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”

  Stay for dinner? No friggin’ way. He’d spent enough time with Kennedy today, between the winery, lunch, and then shopping along the pier. He didn’t even know why he was still at the house. He should have left an hour ago. But then Caitlyn had come home from school begging him to help make popcorn garlands for the Christmas tree that they were supposed to pick out tomorrow night, and well, before he knew it he was pouring popcorn kernels into a pot.

  But he’d be leaving soon. He’d better be leaving soon…

  He cast a sidelong glance at Kennedy as he sorted the popcorn for them and shoved some more in his mouth. Kennedy laughed at something Caitlyn said as they compared their work. His sister had gotten creative and strung together cranberries she’d dipped in glue and glitter. Kennedy looked as if she was really enjoying his mom and sister’s company.

  Matt had sure enjoyed hers today. Perhaps a bit too much, which was starting to concern him. Kennedy had a sweet naïveté about her. He also liked her sense of humor, and although Kennedy’s business was very important to her, she didn�
�t seem the type to put her own ambition ahead of love. His ex Samantha could have taken some lessons from that concept. Not that it mattered anymore. He was over her, and over trying to find a woman to settle down with, but Kennedy was the type of woman who could get a guy thinking about it.

  At this point, he just needed a little separation from her. Some breathing room so he could get his head on straight. Kennedy was going to be his sister-in-law soon. Thank God Justin was coming back tomorrow. Just in time. His mom wanted Matt to be nice to Kennedy, but any more time spent together, and he was afraid he’d take that to a whole other level.

  “Matt, don’t do that!”

  “I didn’t touch her!” he blurted, raising spread hands.

  His mother snatched the bowl of popcorn from his lap. “What in the world are you talking about? I meant stop eating all the popcorn. We still need enough for ten more feet of garland.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.”

  Kennedy laughed at him, an easy, soft sound. Her blue eyes were bright and shining behind those funky eyeglass frames of hers. She had a nice laugh. Kind of deep and throaty. Sexy.

  Don’t even go there, stupid. She’s Justin’s.

  Matt rubbed the back of his neck. He needed to go home before he embarrassed himself further. But just as he stood up to say his good-byes, his cell phone went off. He glanced at it and saw it was none other than his brother. Perfect.

  “Hey,” Matt said, feeling guilty that his greeting lacked enthusiasm.

  “Matt, I need you to do me a huge favor.”

  When did Justin not need him for a huge favor? But there was a desperate edge to his brother’s tone, so Matt decided it might be more serious than he thought and sought some privacy in the kitchen. “What’s the problem?” he asked, lowering his voice.

  “I can’t come home tomorrow.”

  Son of a— “Are you serious? Kennedy—not to mention Mom—is not going to be happy. What’s the holdup this time?”

  “Hear me out, bro. Things went really well today at the portfolio presentation. In fact, it went so well, they want my boss and me to have dinner and drinks with them tomorrow night at Morton’s. Isn’t that cool?”

  “No. It’s not cool. It’s the holidays and you’re supposed to be home for them—like the song indicates. With your fiancée,” he added harshly.