Bachelor-Auction Bridegroom

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Bachelor-Auction Bridegroom Page 12

by Mollie Molay


  T.J. swallowed the lump in his throat. He reached for his father’s hand and squeezed it hard. It couldn’t have been easy for his father to confess why he couldn’t have natural children. Or that, knowing he’d had a vasectomy, he’d ultimately betrayed the woman he loved.

  If his father had the courage to admit his failings, it was time for T.J. to take a hard look at his own. “Emily has plans to move on, and I want to be with her. It’s a hell of a conflict.”

  “Tell her so. Emily needs to have a loving anchor as much as you do, son. Dreams are like carrots on a stick. We might need them to keep us going, but that doesn’t mean the carrot is our ultimate goal.”

  T.J. continued to pace the room. His father’s observations about Emily were almost the same as his own. There had to be something more to Emily’s dreams than a trip to Italy. Maybe she only spoke of that one dream because the present had held little promise of any other dream coming true.

  “Maybe you’re right, Dad. I’ll think about it. At any rate, now that I know why Daniels lied to Emily about her inheritance, I intend to keep an eye on her interests. And when the time comes when she inherits, I’m going to buy the property and give it to her for a wedding present.”

  “That’s more like it. Maybe it hasn’t occurred to you,” his father added with a wry smile, “but I could use a grandchild or two.”

  T.J. stopped in his pacing. He’d almost gotten used to the idea of seeing Emily as his wife. And had even thought of their children. What kind of father would he make?

  “Kind of early to think of grandchildren, isn’t it, Dad?”

  “At my age,” his father said, and grinned, “it’s never too soon. But kids aside, it’s time for you to take up your own identity. Stop trying to be T. J. Kirkpatrick Historical Building Restoration all by yourself. Take my advice, Tom, and get yourself a life. But before you do, I strongly suggest you tell Emily the same story you’ve just told me. I think it just might clear up the trust problem.”

  T.J. saw the gray lines around his father’s lips, his tired eyes, the dark brown hair that was rapidly turning gray. He was ready to kick himself. He’d been so immersed in his own problems that he hadn’t realized his father had any regrets of his own. No wonder he wanted the love and affection of grandchildren to fill his life.

  His father was right. It was time to become Thomas Jefferson Kirkpatrick and Family instead of T. J. Kirkpatrick, restorer of vintage buildings.

  Now, all he had to do was to convince Emily. He loved her.

  Chapter Ten

  When T.J. discovered the end of the summer season brought with it an annual carnival in the beach city of Venice, he made plans to be there. For the seventh time, he found himself with his hand on the phone. He ached to call Emily and tell her he wanted to pick up where he’d left off. To tell her he loved her and wanted to be her husband.

  Then he remembered. She had no phone. And even if she did, after he’d left her with just a note on her pillow, he wasn’t sure she’d be too happy to hear from him. Maybe it would be better to surprise her, catch her unaware. To show her a side of himself he’d foolishly refused to recognize until now. He’d shouldered more responsibilities than he had to. To show her he was an ordinary man with the wants and needs of an ordinary man.

  Emily was the woman he needed and wanted.

  His father’s words of advice came back to him. If he truly loved Emily, and he was sure he did, it was time to tell her so.

  He studied the colorful carnival brochure he’d found in a Venice supermarket. He needed a costume. His first thought was of the Straw Man of Wizard of Oz fame, a popular character that had always been one of his favorites. Still considering the mood he was in, it was a perfect fit. After the way he’d mishandled his relationship with Emily, he had to convince Emily he loved her. How could he have been so stupid to ask her to trust him and then leave her with a note on her pillow instead of kissing her awake and saying goodbye the way lovers do?

  He remembered the vintage cardboard movie posters he and Emily had admired earlier at the Beaumont Hotel. Unless he was mistaken, she was sure to remember his rueful remark about relating to the Straw Man when he’d been an awkward kid. With a sharp mind like hers, she was bound to recall the remark in a blink of an eye. He had to come up with another idea to surprise her.

  “Hi, bro!”

  At the sound of Tim’s voice, the reminder that he’d virtually been roped into meeting Emily flashed into T.J.’s mind. He swung around to confront his brother, the last person he wanted to see right now. “What are you doing here?”

  Tim blinked and looked his surprise. “I work here, remember?”

  T.J. struggled to rein in his frustration. Tim was a working partner in the family business. Instead of being annoyed, he should have been grateful Tim was ready to go to work. It was just damned inconvenient to have him turn up now.

  Gazing at his grinning brother, T.J. had a sinking premonition Tim’s return boded no good. If Emily caught a glimpse of them together, she’d have to know the truth. And hate herself for not believing him when he’d tried to tell her the truth. He couldn’t afford to take a chance.

  “I thought you were away on business,” he growled. “Monkey business, more likely. As if you haven’t already caused enough problems around here.”

  Tim grinned. “You’re not going to hold that bachelor auction caper against me, are you?”

  “I’m not sure,” T.J. replied. “Would it do any good?” Wary of what his brother might come up with next, he wasn’t going to give away the status of his relationship with Emily.

  “Nah,” an obviously unrepentant Tim replied. “I figured I was doing you a favor by sending her here. Not that the lady in question wasn’t mighty attractive. Clever too, or she wouldn’t have been able to come up with that temporary marriage-of-convenience scenario.”

  “If you thought she was so great, little brother, why did you send her to me?”

  “Because there was something about her that told me she wasn’t the temporary kind,” Tim answered cheerfully. “You know me, I make it my business to stay out of the way of serious women. It’s different with you, bro. In my book, you’re more of a forever kind of guy.”

  Undecided whether to thank or chew out his brother, T.J. silently stared at him. For a seemingly devil-may-care type of guy, Tim was more astute than he’d given him credit for. Not that he needed Tim to remind him he was the forever kind of man. He just hadn’t found a woman he could trust to stick around forever with until now.

  His silence seemed to draw Tim’s attention in a way T.J. hadn’t intended. He braced himself for what was coming next.

  “What’s the matter, didn’t you and the lucky lady hit it off?”

  “Maybe.” T.J. stuck the Carnival in Venice brochure into a back pocket of his jeans. The last thing he wanted was for Tim to pick up on the carnival.

  Or, heaven help him, show up. His rapport with Emily was too new, too tenuous, to risk having Tim show up before he’d set the stage for the truth. First, he had to make sure he had a solid relationship with Emily.

  “Maybe?” Tim echoed dubiously. “That’s almost as good as saying you don’t know. Either you hit it off or you didn’t. Want to try again?”

  The sound of a skip loader dropping broken bricks and old lumber into a Dumpster cut off T.J.’s reply. Grateful at the interruption, he shuddered when he thought of what Tim might come up with next. More jokes at his expense?

  He waited until the strident sounds of the cleanup dimmed. He’d completed his part of the exterior reconstruction. With Tim back as the designated architect-in-charge of rebuilding the interior of the gutted station, now was his own chance to take a few days off.

  “Why don’t you forget me and Emily and think of getting back to work?” he suggested casually. “I’m sure you have better things to keep you busy than worrying about the two of us.”

  “Emily?” Tim’s eyes lit up. “Maybe I was too hasty in setting you up with
her. What’s she like?”

  Perfection, T.J. was tempted to answer. Expressive hazel eyes. An intelligent woman with a heart. A real woman with heated blood in her veins. “Just a woman,” he answered, shrugging away any hint of the way he felt about Emily.

  Tim’s calculating look made T.J. want to kick himself. He should have kept his mouth shut, handed Tim the bundle of blueprints and taken himself out of sight.

  Tim eyed him thoughtfully. “If you’re on a first-name basis with the lady, things must not have turned out so badly after all. I did you a favor. If you’re going to keep her for yourself, you owe me big time.”

  Favor? Tim’s wicked grin made T.J.’s insides clench. To his growing annoyance, Tim actually looked proud of himself. The “favor” had turned T.J.’s ordered life upside down and inside out and he’d wound up falling in love with Emily.

  Even his waking and sleeping moments were spent thinking about Emily. And now that he’d made up his mind to win her, he had to try to find a way to keep her in his arms.

  He wondered what his chances were of keeping Tim out of sight. “I’ll let you know later if it was a favor,” he told his brother. He took off his leather tool belt and packed it into his pickup truck. “Right now it may be a toss-up.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  Tim looked so falsely contrite that T.J. had to bite back a laugh. “No thanks, I can handle it. You’ve done enough.”

  T.J.’s obvious reluctance to tell all must have finally registered with his brother. “That bad, eh?”

  “Don’t worry,” T.J. hurriedly assured his brother. “I’m working on a plan.”

  “She didn’t notice there was a difference between us, did she? Honest, I wouldn’t have sent her over here if everyone hasn’t said we look enough alike to be twins.”

  More frustrated about his chances with Emily than he was willing to admit, T.J. ran his fingers through his hair. “For what it’s worth, I tried to tell Emily we were look-alike brothers—with zip results. I have to find a way to make her accept the truth without upsetting her.”

  “You’re just the man to do it,” Tim said confidently. “Hang in there.”

  “Yeah, by the tips of my fingernails,” T.J. muttered as he headed for Duke with Tim in tow. “Do me a favor and stay out of sight. The last thing I need is for Emily to catch a glimpse of us together before I’ve set the stage.”

  NO CLOSER TO REALIZING her dream of seeing Italy than she’d been at the time Daniels had disappeared, his continued absence began to worry Emily. Either the shyster lawyer was waiting for things to cool down, or he was working on another way to cheat her out of her inheritance.

  To add to her frustration, she hadn’t heard from T.J. since two nights before when he’d made love to her. The note he’d left behind two days ago hadn’t been enough to convince her he wasn’t another Sean.

  She still missed him. Missed his confidence, his strength. The way he’d seemed to believe in her instead of dismissing her as a dreamer. And, most of all, she thought, as she listened to her lonely heart, she missed the wonderful way he’d made her feel in his arms.

  She glanced at the colorful Carnival in Venice brochure she’d picked up at the nearby convenience store where she’d gone shopping for groceries. She’d been so mired in missing T.J. she’d almost forgotten the annual celebration.

  She searched in her dresser for her favorite costume. With a few alternations at the bustline and at the hem, it appeared to be in good shape.

  If this was going to be the last carnival she would attend, she was going to enjoy it.

  SQUINTING IN THE BRIGHT SUN, Emily stood on the cottage porch and inhaled the familiar sweet scent of honeysuckle vines. Pleased at the reminder of her childhood, she lifted her face into the fresh ocean breeze flowing across the canal. The day was perfect, the sun was shining, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Even the blue morning glories that grew on the fence separating the cottage from the newly built modern condominium complex next door looked brighter than usual. The only thing that marred the afternoon was the thought that if she sold the cottage, another concrete condominium complex would take its place.

  She sighed and glanced at the wooden swing in which she’d spent so many happy hours. The paned windows, the green shutters, and the honeysuckle vines where bees vied for honey.

  It was no use living in the past, she told herself. With her future still up in the air, at least she could treasure the present.

  She turned her gaze on the bustling activity in front of her. Booths selling items imported from Italy had been assembled and looked ready for business. Colorful balloons were being taped to the ornate concrete bridges that crossed the canal. Clusters of small bands were playing, sidewalk musicians were strolling through the growing crowd. The mouthwatering scent of freshly popped popcorn and the cotton candy she had loved as a child tickled her nose.

  “Emily? Emily Holmes, is that you?” Fiona Ridley, a one-time neighbor of her aunt’s called to her from the sidewalk. Like the fictional Mary Poppins, she wore a dated cotton dress, a straw hat, and carried an umbrella to shield her from the strong sun. “I’m so happy to see you again, my dear,” she said as she bustled up the walk. “I just can’t wait to find out if the rumors are true!”

  “What rumors, Mrs. Ridley?” Emily smiled her welcome. She knew from experience Mrs. Ridley was a one-woman telegraph line with a heart bigger than the rumors she spread.

  “I heard your aunt’s cottage was going to be sold, dear. Is that true?”

  “I’m not sure.” Emily glanced over at the condominium complex that she’d heard had been built after Mrs. Ridley’s cottage had fallen to a wrecking ball. A chill passed over her at the thought her late aunt’s home might suffer a similar fate. “The decision isn’t mine to make. Aunt Emily’s estate hasn’t been settled yet.”

  As if she wanted to make sure they were alone, her companion glanced around her. “I think I should tell you I’ve noticed strange men wandering around the cottage lately. There was one man in particular—a tall, handsome gentleman. Handsome enough to turn a woman’s head,” she tittered before she caught herself. “Gracious sakes, but the man was full of questions!”

  Emily’s thoughts swung to lawyer Daniels. “What did you tell him?”

  “Nothing, my dear, not a thing,” Mrs. Ridley assured her. “As you must know, I mind my own business. But, since I live in one of those condominiums next door now, I can’t help noticing things.” She blushed. “I thought I’d better warn you. The man could be up to no good.”

  Emily nodded politely. Who else besides Tom and the lawyer knew she’d moved into the cottage?

  Sean? He didn’t even know where Emily had gone. He was certainly handsome and charming on the surface, but self-centered and untrustworthy underneath. She’d learned that the hard way.

  T.J.? Surely he had no reason to skulk around the cottage. He’d offered to buy and restore the cottage; she was on the verge of agreeing.

  Daniels, on the other hand, may have gone out of town on business, but he could have sent someone to check up on her. In spite of what T.J. had confidently said, she was sure the man wouldn’t take her moving into the cottage lightly before the estate was settled.

  That’s all she needed. An ex-fiancé, a shady lawyer, and a man she’d grown to love but who couldn’t seem to make up his mind about her. He’d asked her to trust him, now alone and in broad daylight, she wasn’t so sure if she could.

  She remembered sensing a strange presence outside the cottage early this morning. When she’d gotten up the courage to look, no one was there. She’d chalked it up to an overactive imagination, but she’d have to be more careful now.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Ridley,” she answered politely. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for strangers.”

  “That’s good, dear,” Mrs. Ridley replied. “And do enjoy yourself at the carnival today. It’s a pity your aunt isn’t here to enjoy it with you.”

  Emily smiled
and picked up her plush toy dog and went to join the revelers.

  By dusk, costumed revelers thronged the path that ran alongside the canal. Booths selling Italian sausage rolls and other delicacies had lines of hungry diners. Strolling musicians were playing nostalgic Italian love songs. Sounds of laughter filled the air.

  “Gondola ride, signora?”

  Emily shook her head. Gondola rides, she mused wistfully as she wandered along the thronged path, were for lovers, not for someone like her. After her recent experience with Sean, and with T.J.’s continued absence, she doubted she would ever qualify as any man’s love.

  A costumed pirate, his face partially obscured with a black silk mask across his eyes caught her attention. Clad in a striking black velvet costume, knee-high black leather boots, his presence was powerfully male. A wide, black hat with a golden plume waving in the breeze covered his bandana-covered hair. At first glance, she’d admired his costume, but now she had the vague notion he was following her. Uneasy, she looked away.

  Her attention diverted, she stumbled on a large wide crack in the sidewalk and dropped the tube of cotton candy. Before she could regain her footing, a masked French gendarme stepped in front of her and caught her arm. His teeth flashed in a wide smile below his black mask, but she shivered as she sensed there was no smile in his eyes.

  “You have a problem, mademoiselle? May I be of service?”

  “No, thank you, I’m really fine. Just shaken up a bit.” Startled by the unexpectedly firm grip on her arm, Emily tried to pull away. His grasp tightened and he pulled her toward the canal. “Perhaps a gondola ride?”

  She looked for help and tried to twist away. “Let me go!”

  The pirate materialized at her side. “Apparently, the lady isn’t interested,” he said smoothly, his hand on his sword. “I suggest you let her go.”

 

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