Perfect for You

by Candis Terry

  “Because?” On edge, Dec gritted his teeth. Best to get to the bottom of things ASAFP.

  “I . . . It’s a business matter.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “I’m sorry.” Her head tilted. “Who did you say you are?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I see.” She glanced in the direction of the office. “Well then, thank you for your time.” She reached into the car and pulled out a large purse that she slung over her shoulder. Then she closed the door and clicked the key fob.

  For a moment Dec watched her walk toward the office, then he followed. Apprehension dug nails into the back of his neck as he caught up to her and they hit the door at the same time. Dec reached forward and opened it.

  “Oh.” She seemed startled even though she had to have known he was right behind her. “Thank you.”

  He entered the building after her. “The office is this way.”

  Her heels clicked on the wood floor until Dec opened the interior office door for her. He watched his brothers’ eyes widen with curiosity at his return and their unexpected guest.

  “Thought you were leaving,” Jordan said.

  “I found Ms. . . .” He hesitated over the woman’s name because she hadn’t introduced herself. Then again, neither had he.

  “Lili MacKay.”

  “Ms. Lili MacKay outside in the parking lot. I informed her we were closed but she said she was here about a business matter. So I directed her to the office.”

  Ryan stood and offered his hand, which the woman shook. “Nice to meet you, Ms. MacKay. What can we do for you?”

  Her gaze tracked each person in the room, then she secured her hand around the strap of her purse. “I’m looking for Carlton Kincade.”

  In that instant, every jaw in the room dropped and Dec knew they were all thinking the same thing.

  Why was an attractive young woman looking for their deceased father?

  “Have a seat, Ms. MacKay.” Ryan motioned to the chair Dec had earlier vacated.

  The stiffening in her shoulders made it easy to sense her nervousness, which only amplified Dec’s curiosity as he stood at the back of the room, arms folded.

  Waiting.

  “I’m a little short on time,” Lili MacKay said without taking the offered seat. “Is Mr. Kincade available?”

  Ryan remained standing as well, and his tone took on an acidic edge. “I’m afraid you’ll have to address your business to me, Ms. MacKay.”

  “And who are you?” A flash of irritation tightened her jaw.

  “Ryan Kincade. These are my brothers, Jordan, Declan, and Ethan. And I’m afraid it’s going to be impossible for you to see Carlton Kincade.”

  “Oh? And why is that?”

  “Because he died over four months ago.”

  Lili MacKay released a small gasp, wavered, and dropped into the empty chair. Her hand went to her chest where she absently rubbed its center and stared at the floor. “I’m . . . so sorry. I . . . didn’t know.”

  It quickly became apparent to Dec, as he was sure it had his brothers, that Lili MacKay was deeply affected by the news that their father was dead. Her rapid breathing and inability to speak said that her appearance at the vineyard was obviously more of a personal than a business nature.

  So who the hell was this woman?

  And what did she want?

  After a moment she appeared to recover. She stood, hooked the handbag over her shoulder, and white-knuckled the strap. “Please accept my condolences. I sincerely apologize for the interruption. Thank you for your time.”

  As she headed toward the door, Dec briefly wondered whether he should stop her or let her go, but the mystery had become too great to ignore.

  “I’m sure we can help you with whatever business you came here for.” He blocked her exit. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  She shook her head and refused to meet his gaze. Of course, he couldn’t see much of her expression from behind her dark sunglasses.

  “I’m sorry. My business was with Carlton Kincade and only Carlton Kincade. I really must go now.”

  As she reached for the door handle Dec recognized the distress signs of someone trapped and he let her walk. Once the sound of her high heels clicking on the wood floor dissipated he turned to his brothers, who looked equally stunned.

  “What the hell just happened?”

  Chapter 9

  Dec got into his car in the empty parking lot to go back to the cabin, wrap up his work schedule, and have dinner with Brooke. Since he’d woken up this morning he’d been looking forward to spending more time with her. Not just because they’d had a great time last night, but because as each day passed, he realized that her lively spirit and her unpredictability made him want to explore possibilities he’d never considered. The fortress he’d locked himself in had been created with unbreakable rules and crushing responsibility. Then Brooke came along. And Dec thought that maybe she held the key to open the door and set him free.

  Not that he didn’t think she could handle it, but it was an unfair amount of responsibility to put on her lovely shoulders. The time had come for him to dig deep inside himself to ascertain what he was really made of. To see if he could handle it.

  To know if he was worthy.

  Before pulling out onto the driveway, he glanced again at the empty parking lot. So much stood in his way. So many unanswered questions. As much as he’d like to blow it all off, he couldn’t ignore the obligation to those he loved. He couldn’t be that selfish. And he refused to use Brooke as a temporary diversion from everything in his life that had been filed under “Fucked Up.” If he spent time with her—and he would—he wanted to give her his undivided attention. He wanted to enjoy her and unravel all those layers that made her so damn fascinating.

  The only way he’d be able to do that would be to start chiseling away at everything that stood between them. And right now, at the top of that list was Lili MacKay.

  Who was the woman?

  What had she wanted with their father?

  Why would she only speak to him?

  Could she have something to do with their father’s behavior toward Nicole?

  Was this woman possibly someone with whom their father had had an affair?

  She was very young. Probably no more than her early to mid-twenties. Certainly too young for their father, who’d always appeared to be a happily married man.

  Appeared being the key word.

  If she’d been having an affair with him, why wouldn’t she have known he’d been killed along with their mother? The tragic news had been the source of talk around town for weeks.

  Unless she wasn’t from Sunshine.

  But assuming she was the other woman, where else could their father have met her? The only places he ever went were wine competitions. Ryan had always joined him on those trips, making it near impossible for anything to have transpired. There were the times he’d gone back to Philadelphia to visit their uncle but . . .

  Why the hell were they all jumping to conclusions? Why did they immediately assume something dark and sordid? He’d been a good father. At least to him and his brothers.

  Unfortunately their sister had a different opinion. And that was the real impetus for finding answers.

  As Dec drove the convertible out of the parking lot his chest tightened. He dealt with information. Facts. He didn’t like to be kept in the dark or uninformed.

  Ever.

  Lack of data and details made him feel unstable. Powerless. And where his feelings for Brooke were concerned, he was already rowing that boat against a strong current.

  While his intent had been to head back to the cabin and just enjoy the rest of the evening, his curiosity and his duty led him in the complete opposite direction.

  Brooke stood inside the little brick cabin checking things off her list and wrapping up her day. She’d managed to set up a temporary office in the extra bedroom, where she’d followed through with her work schedule and updated
her progress to Dec by text every couple of hours. Later she’d borrowed Aunt Pippy’s VW Bug and made a grocery store run.

  Not that the place had been a superstore by any means, but it had taken her two trips around the market before she figured out what to make for dinner and dessert. Making good on her cooking boast was important. Even though she could hold her own with a frying pan and a cheese grater, she didn’t cook anything like a rock star as she’d claimed. Still, call her old-fashioned, but she wanted to impress Dec.

  Now that dark had fallen and the crickets had begun to chirp, there was no sign of the man whom she’d wasted her hopes for a romantic dinner on.

  The last text she’d received from him several hours ago had said he’d be back to the cabin within the hour. Though she realized he was a full-grown adult who could take care of himself and really didn’t need to answer to her for anything, she’d begun to worry.

  Dec never failed to be on time or even early. When he said he’d be somewhere you could count on him like the opening bell of the stock market. So for him not to show up when he’d said he would was rare.

  And mysterious.

  And troubling.

  She’d never been a clock-watcher, and now wasn’t the time to start. She wasn’t his mother, wife, or girlfriend. So she put everything on hold in the kitchen, prayed for the best, and went into the office to occupy her time working on a new client proposal. If she hadn’t heard from him by midnight, she’d call up to the main house and contact his family.

  Moochie trailed after her into the makeshift office and settled in on her little puffy leopard print bed. Moments later, snoring confirmed she’d fallen fast asleep.

  Sometime later a car pulled up in front of the cabin. Brooke refused to look at the clock. She debated whether to stay right where she was or get up and greet him. Before she could make a calculated decision that wouldn’t have her looking out of line, pissed off, or needy, the front door opened.

  Like she’d been poked, Moochie leaped out of bed and trotted off to be the welcoming committee. Brooke could hear Dec praise her little dog, and then his heavy footsteps brought him into the office.

  He dropped down into the chair opposite her desk, steepled his fingers and said, “I’m sorry.”

  Brooke instantly knew she’d been right to worry. Tension crinkled the outer corners of his eyes and his lips were pressed into a flat line.

  “For what?” she asked.

  “Being late. I know you were planning dinner and—”

  “Dec, you don’t owe me any explanations.”

  “And . . . if the offer is still open, I’m starving. I don’t even care if it’s frozen pizza. So how about I go take a hot shower and then help you put it together.”

  “Anything you want to talk about first?” It was clear that something had happened and weighed heavy on his mind.

  “Nope. I just want a shower, and then a glass of wine would be nice.”

  “I can help you with that. I mean . . . you can take your own shower. I don’t need to . . .” Jesus. She’d never been at a loss for words before. But with the exception of when his parents had died, she’d never seen him this troubled. She wanted to help. Even if she had to take one for the team and help him in that steamy shower.

  “Thanks.” Sluggishly he got up out of the chair. “You’re a great assis—”

  “Stop.” She held up a hand like a crossing guard. “Last night when I challenged you to sing karaoke—which you did amazingly well by the way—we made a deal to leave the whole boss/employee thing at the door for the night. Can we manage that again? Because you seriously look like you could use a friend right now.”

  He paused at the doorway and looked her over. “I’m not really sure I can ever see you that way.”

  Pain slammed through her heart like a bullet.

  While she reeled and tried to recover from his biting remark, he disappeared down the hall. A moment later when she heard the shower turn on, she buried her face in her hands.

  She’d thought they’d moved past the Yes, I’m paying your salary and I will never forget I’m your boss barrier. She’d thought that the road trip to Vancouver had been fun for both of them—to a point—and that as friends, they’d grown a little closer.

  Apparently thinking was overrated.

  There wasn’t enough hot water in the world to ease the tension knotted at the back of Declan’s neck. Still, he planted his palms on the shower wall, leaned in, and let the stream pound his muscles.

  After he’d left the winery office and his brothers to continue playing the fifty question game about their father’s mysterious visitor, Dec had driven into town and gone to every place of lodging until he’d spotted Lili MacKay’s car. It had been his stroke of luck that it happened to be parked in the lot of the Salty Seagull Inn, a family owned operation belonging to close friends of his parents. He’d taken a chance and gone inside to see if she was registered as a guest. And though the inn wasn’t technically allowed to give him the information, by turning on the charm, he did learn that she’d indeed paid for a room for three nights. This meant he and his brothers had at least two more days to figure out who the hell she was and where she came from.

  Not exactly how he’d planned to spend his time in Sunshine.

  Or for the evening.

  But when someone came around insisting on speaking to a dead relative then leaving without offering the reason why, it left a person—or persons—no option but to investigate. He’d stopped himself short before knocking on her door and demanding answers. Instead he’d opted to relay his findings to his brothers. Some of them tended to be hotheads, but together they miraculously managed to keep each other in line. And since the mysterious blonde’s sudden appearance could be totally innocent, there was no need for irrationality.

  Yet.

  After several minutes under the hot water, Dec’s muscles loosened up and happier images wandered into his mind. Though he knew she was very dedicated, he’d been surprised to find Brooke still working when he’d come through the door. He’d been even more taken aback to find so much concern on her face. He knew he should have called her and told her he’d been delayed. It had been unfair of him to leave her hanging. Especially when she’d offered to do something as nice for him as make dinner.

  But in his day-to-day life, he answered to nothing except his own whims and schedule. At times, he knew he appeared very selfish.

  Now, for instance.

  Before he did anything else, he needed to apologize. Clear the air. And hope she wasn’t too pissed off.

  By the time he’d dried off and changed into jeans and a T-shirt, a heavenly aroma wafted through the cabin. When he went into the kitchen she was busily concocting something in a big red bowl.

  It wasn’t the sight of the food that had him taking a second look. It was the woman with the wooden spoon.

  In a sleeveless floral dress that hit her mid-calf and a scooped neckline that exposed enough cleavage to arouse his curiosity along with a certain other body part, Brooke simply stunned him.

  Why hadn’t he noticed when he’d walked through the door?

  Dumbass.

  With the exception of a few loose strands, her hair had been pulled up in a mess of curls on top of her head, leaving her long, delicate neck uncovered. More than tasting what was cooking in that pan, Dec wanted to savor her soft skin. He wanted to walk up behind her, wrap his arms around her, and pull her tight against him while he feasted on anything bare and everything not.

  Need, in too many forms to count, wrapped him up and sent him in her direction.

  “I didn’t want you to go to too much trouble.”

  She started at his sudden appearance, then recovered with a small smile that barely brushed her lips. “No big deal. I already had everything ready to put together.”

  He came closer and a citrus fragrance leaped into the medley of what was going on in the frying pan. “It’s a big deal to me.”

  She shrugged a shoulder
. “It’s just something I’m throwing together.”

  “Maybe. But other than my mother I’ve never had a woman cook for me.”

  She looked up at him and her eyes went wide with disbelief. “Never?”

  Tempted to reach out and stroke his fingers down her long, creamy throat, he shook his head.

  “I would have thought all those women you date would be trying to cook their way into your heart.”

  “They’re more interested in eating at swanky restaurants where they can see and be seen.”

  “So why do you date women like that?” She stopped stirring the mix and tilted her head. “Don’t you want something more?”

  He never had before. But maybe that wasn’t true anymore.

  “That type of woman worked for me. I’ve been too busy building the business to want to take time away from that.”

  “Believe me.” She scoffed. “I know better than anyone about how hard you work.”

  Dec realized he’d used the term worked—as in past tense—when speaking of the women he dated. Something had changed. He’d never thought about vacations, or leisure time, or even sleeping in on a Sunday morning. He was constantly on the go and it had become his way of life.

  What had he missed?

  And could he ever get back what he’d lost during that hectic pace?

  As Brooke moved around the kitchen he wondered what it would be like to really take the time to get to know her better.

  Thought by thought.

  Inch by inch.

  Intrigued, he leaned over her shoulder to peek at what she was concocting. “What’s for dinner?”

  She lifted the lid off the skillet. “Pan-seared halibut—not ahi—with mango and avocado salsa, and a side of asparagus tossed with citrus, paired with . . .” She set the lid back down, reached inside the refrigerator, and brought out a wine bottle. “A bottle of Sunshine Creek Vineyard Sweet Serenade. Your Aunt Pippy recommended this one because of the . . .” She read the back label. “Apple and lemon notes that lead to a crisp finish.”

  “Perfect.” He took the bottle, desperate to numb some of the wayward thoughts in his brain. “Mind if I open it now?”