A Family Affair: The Wish: Truth in Lies, Book 9

by Campisi, Mary

  * * *

  Magdalena, New York, reminded Adam of every other small town he’d visited over the years. Quaint would be an accurate word. He guessed there would be residents who could recall the story of how the place came to be and some would even claim a relationship to the founders. Adam had been raised in a small town outside of Pittsburgh, and while he’d enjoyed the close-knit community, he’d been itching for the big city and opportunities. They came after law school and exploded when he moved out west. He’d loved California, loved being near his brother until he had the unfortunate bad luck to fall in love with his future sister-in-law.

  And now it looked like he’d once again had the bad luck to get mixed up with the wrong woman. He didn’t want to be mixed up with Bree Kinkaid, a woman whose last name he hadn’t known until after he’d shared a bed with her. But at least he had the edge; he knew who she was, knew too he was going to see her in less than ten minutes. How would she react? Would those amber eyes widen with shock? Disbelief? Disgust? And if her father were in the same room? What then? That would be interesting. She and Adam had things to discuss, like what happened that night, and why she’d skipped town before they had a chance to talk about it. Roman had filled him in on Bree Kinkaid, the fireball with the southern accent who’d never set foot past the Mason-Dixon Line and whose husband died in another woman’s bed. No wonder Bree was torn apart and cursing cheaters when he met her.

  What would she think if she knew he wasn’t here to find ways to make MacGregor Cabinets more efficient? That the real reason he’d been asked to Magdalena had nothing to do with efficiency or pinpointing ways to help her run the company better? In fact, in a roundabout manner, he’d have a hand in getting her booted as president. What would she say to that? He didn’t know her very well, but guessed if he were in swinging distance, she’d go after him. Why had he ever let Roman talk him into taking part in this mess? Fabricating stories and withholding the truth wasn’t in his nature, but he’d agreed and now he was stuck.

  Adam sighed and opened the car door. Time for another encounter with Bree Kinkaid, one that would definitely not involve kisses or touching. He made it to the receptionist area and was about to inquire after Rex MacGregor when a broad, barrel-chested man flung open the door and thrust out a hand.

  “Rex MacGregor. You must be Adam. Pleased to meet you.”

  Adam shook the man’s hand, fought not to wince when he squeezed it. “Hello, Rex. Beautiful country you’ve got here.”

  The grin that spread across Rex MacGregor’s face said he agreed. “It’s our own slice of heaven. Don’t know why anybody would ever want to leave.” He frowned, motioned Adam to follow him. “But I guess a person’s gotta follow his own path, leastways that’s what my daddy always said.” He led Adam through the cramped receptionist area to an office near the coffee station. “I don’t have an office anymore, but this one suits me when I’m here.” He nodded at one of the chairs near his desk. “Have a seat.”

  Stark was an understatement. The desk was the main piece of furniture and looked like it belonged in a garbage heap instead of an office. Scratched, chipped, with bare wood showing, it was beaten up and not what he expected the owner of a company to choose, no matter how temporary. Maybe it had been rescued on its way to the dump and given a home. Either way the desk had seen a better life. A few items rested on its top: a pad of lined yellow paper, a pen, a box of paper clips, and a stapler. There was a solitary picture on the back wall of a row of cabinets, finished in different stains.

  Rex MacGregor stuffed himself into the chair behind the desk, leaned forward, and whispered, “So, we’re all set?” When Adam nodded, the older man blew out a sigh and continued. “A parent does what he has to for his child, no matter what. You got any kids, Adam?”

  “No, sir.” Adam cleared his throat. “Not yet.”

  “Good answer. How about a wife?”

  “I don’t have one of those either.” Was this part of the get-to-know-you meeting? He’d run into this line of questioning before, usually when a business owner-parent was on the hunt to match up one of his children. They never had any luck, but they certainly tried.

  Rex laughed. “Don’t have one yet, had one and don’t want another, or don’t have one and don’t want one?”

  Crafty man. Adam hid a smile. “Don’t have one yet and don’t know if I want one.”

  That comment brought a howl. “I like you, boy. I think once Bree stops acting so prickly, she’ll like you, too. Just don’t let her get under your skin. She can, let me tell you. She’s my only child and I love her more than my own breath, but Lord, she can worry a person to death.” He shook his head, lowered his voice. “My daughter’s a grade A nagger. On and on she goes and if she thinks she’s right, you’re done.”

  Adam could picture the Bree from the restaurant acting that way. The woman might have been crying buckets that night, but she’d been feisty and opinionated. That he remembered, because he’d admired both. “A grade A nagger?” He grinned. “Consider me warned.”

  “You might as well meet her because she’s been stewing about you since she found out you were coming. I knew telling her would cause me a world of headaches and I was right, but you reach a point where you have to just say a prayer and get it done. Bree knows she’s to help you out any way she can, show you whatever you want to see, and above all, be hospitable.”

  Help him out any way she could? Show him whatever he wanted to see? Above all, be hospitable? What would the poor guy say if he knew she’d offered Adam a whole lot more than a few files and a spreadsheet or two? “Thank you, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  Bree’s father pushed back his chair and stood. “I’m sure it’ll be interesting. She tried the cold shoulder with the last guy who was here, but nobody gives a cold shoulder to Michael Androvich, and Bree learned that quick, fast, and soon enough. Come on, we’ll find her and I’ll stick around to make sure she doesn’t try to shove you in a corner and forget about you.” He chuckled, shook his head. “My girl’s a sly one who won’t mind pulling a fast one on you if she thinks she’s right.” Adam followed Rex down the hall and around the corner. “I’m putting you in the office with Bree, same as I did with Michael. That way she can’t ignore you and my motto’s always been work together, get through it together. Close quarters force my girl to face issues she’d rather avoid.” He paused, lowered his voice. “She had a tough time a while back. Lost her husband, bastard that he was, and she hasn’t bounced back yet. That’s why I’m doing what I’m doing.” Another pause, a softer voice. “A parent does what he has to, even if his child doesn’t see the reason behind it right away. She’ll come around on all counts. Even having you here.” Rex eyed Adam, nodded. “Yes indeed, I think she might get used to having you here. Just not right away.”

  Adam stalled a few feet from the door leading to Bree’s office. He did not want his first encounter with her to be in the presence of her father. Maybe there was a way around it… “Rex, would you mind if I took a stab at meeting Bree on my own? I’ve dealt with my share of suspicious, uncooperative corporate employees, and I might be able to persuade her if she doesn’t think you’re there to bail her out.”

  “I like that idea.” Rex’s expression relaxed and he dragged a hand over his forehead with a big sigh that said relief even if his words didn’t. He started to back up, stopped. “You sure you don’t mind? My daughter can be a handful.”

  “No, of course not. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” Or not.

  “Okay, then. I’ll catch up with you later. Good luck.” And then he was gone, barreling down the hall and out of sight.

  It was obvious Rex MacGregor did not want to be involved in this meeting and Adam was fine with that. He and Bree had a few nonbusiness items to discuss, the contents of which should not be addressed in the presence of her father. Adam adjusted his tie, cleared his throat, and prepared for one of the most challenging and interesting confrontations of his life. He moved toward the doo
r, stopped just outside the entrance, and watched the woman who had occupied too much of his brain since the night he met her. He hadn’t known what she did for a living or where she lived, but there’d been a vulnerability and a casualness about her he liked. No airs or attempts to impress him, and it was the very act of not acting that had drawn him in. That’s why he’d ignored the warning signals and stepped into her hotel room and why in the morning he’d left a note—which she’d ignored. Well, there was no more ignoring him now.

  Adam knocked on the half-opened door, stepped inside.

  She had her back turned to him, shuffling through a stack of papers. “Just a sec.”

  He entered her office, closed the door. “Take your time.”

  The paper shuffling stopped and she swung around. “Adam? Good gracious, what…what…how…?”

  “Hi, Bree.” He moved toward her, smiled.

  She finally managed to get out a complete sentence. “How did you find me?” She clasped her hands together, eyes wide as she tried to back away. Hard to do when she was between her desk and the credenza with nowhere to go.

  “Find you? Were you hiding?” He kept his gaze fixed on her, rounded the desk, closed the distance between them. Her coconut scent drifted to him, saturated his senses. He’d never smell or taste coconut again without thinking of Bree.

  “No, of course not.” She looked away, darted a glance back at him. “What are you doing here?”

  Adam moved her chair aside, stepped closer. “I came to see you.” He held her gaze, said in a soft voice, “You didn’t get my note, did you?” When she didn’t answer, he ran a hand through his hair, let out a sigh. “Of course not. You would have called if you’d gotten it.” Still no answer, though she bit her bottom lip and her face turned the color of the notepad behind her. “Don’t worry, I’ll share the gist of it. I said I had to get to a meeting but would be back by 11:00 because we had things to discuss.” He rubbed his jaw. “And I left my phone number, just in case. Hmm. Wonder what happened to it.”

  She zeroed in on his chin, shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s okay.” He tucked a lock of strawberry-blond hair behind her ear, leaned forward, and whispered, “I found you now.”

  Bree tried to bat his hand away. “Stop that.” She must have recovered from the initial shock of seeing him —and not in Chicago but in Magdalena—because she developed a cool attitude and an air that said do not touch. “You can’t be here. I have an important meeting soon and I’ve got enough problems without you messing things up.”

  “A meeting? Maybe I can help?”

  “For heaven’s sake, no. You have to leave. Now.” She licked her lips in a way that reminded him how kissable they were and spoke in a tone laced with impatience and dread. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression that night. I’ve never done anything like that in my entire life and I have no excuse other than the wine and the fact that you’re too good a listener.”

  He couldn’t resist. “And that’s why you invited me to your hotel room?”

  “Shh.” She glared at him and he bet if she could belt him in the gut, she would. “It was the wine and you. If you hadn’t gotten me talking about cheaters and people who take advantage of others, I would have been just fine. But you got me yammering on and feeling sorry for myself and before I knew it, you were in my room.” She crossed her arms over a very nice chest, a chest he remembered, and narrowed her gaze on him. “Stop looking.”

  He glanced up and his smile spread. “That’s not what you said the other night.”

  “I don’t remember what I said the other night. I told you, I had too much wine and I was in a state.”

  “You don’t remember anything?” What about the part where she asked him for a kiss? And when he carried her to the bed? And when she—

  “My brain was not a total sieve that night.” She shot him a dagger look.

  So did she or did she not remember what happened in the hotel room? Because that’s what they needed to discuss, and they’d better get it out in the open and deal with it before he told her he was the consultant. Adam had never let his personal life intersect with business and he didn’t like that Bree Kinkaid had crossed over into both. “Good, then let’s talk about what happened in the hotel room.”

  Those lips spat venom. “Let’s not.”

  Adam shrugged, shoved his hands in his pockets, and studied her. “I’m a lawyer, Bree. I make my living with words. I interpret them, analyze them, rip them apart, and put them back together, and I’m very good at it.”

  She stuck her chin up, rolled her eyes. “Maybe you should be a writer.”

  “Maybe I should, but not today because today you and I are going to talk about what happened in that hotel room and why you left before I returned.”

  “I did not—”

  “Bree. You left.”

  “Fine, I left.” She sighed, settled her gaze on a shiny pink nail. “I didn’t want to see you again; is it that hard to believe?”

  “No, actually it’s not.” He gentled his voice, studied a swirl of strawberry-blond hair trailing along her left shoulder. Soft as silk and as fragrant as a flower garden. “I just want to know why. I’m not in the habit of visiting hotel rooms of women I’ve just met, and I always know their last name. I broke both rules with you and I’m trying to figure out why.” There. He’d spoken the truth he’d tried to ignore since that night. She inched her gaze to his, held it, her eyes so bright they sparkled.

  “I’ve never had sex with a stranger before.”

  He could not have heard that right. “You think we had sex?”

  She blushed three shades darker than her nail polish and said, “Didn’t we?”

  Adam shook his head, not sure if he should laugh or be insulted. “Sex. With you.” He shook his head again.

  “Wait.” She grabbed his forearm. “Are you saying we didn’t have sex?”

  “I’m saying if we’d had sex, you’d remember.”

  She made a face. “Of course you’d say that.”

  “Because it’s true.”

  Bree stepped back, hands on hips, right foot tapping. “If we didn’t, then why was I in my undies and no bra?”

  “How do I know?” He’d never had a woman fall asleep on him when he was about to undress her, but Bree Kinkaid had done exactly that. She’d been full of sighs and moans as he kissed his way up her leg, from her ankle to her calf, taking extra time on the area behind her knee. When he reached the inside of her thigh, he noticed the sighs and moans had stopped—because she’d fallen asleep!

  “Why don’t you know?” She scowled at him. “You were there, weren’t you?”

  “Cute. I have no idea what happened after I left, but when I was there, you were dressed, including your bra and panties.”

  “Hmm. I found your hair on the pillow.”

  He tried to hide his smile, but it was difficult. “And?” She’d make a terrible lawyer.

  “How do you explain that?”

  “You invited me into your hotel room. You said you wanted a kiss. Actually, you said you wanted two kisses. Do you remember that or did you have too much wine to recall saying it?” The burst of pink on her cheeks said she remembered. “I told you it was a bad idea, but you—”

  “Okay, okay! You don’t have to tell me that part.” She shot him a look that said she wished she could cut the memory from his brain—and hers. “You carried me to the bed…we were kissing…you…you lifted my right leg and placed tiny kisses on my ankle…” Her voice dipped, swirled like cotton candy on a stick. “And then you kept working your way up my leg…”

  Adam cleared his throat and pushed back the visuals she recreated. “That’s why I left the note, Bree. I wanted to talk about this, about what happened and what almost happened.” He reached out, took her hand. “What could have happened, and what I wished had happened, even though it’s the last thing that should happen.”

  Her eyes grew wide, her full lips parting as
she leaned toward him. “I left the hotel because I was afraid of what you might want.” She licked those lips, made him want to taste them. “But I was more afraid that I might give it to you.”

  “Bree.” He trailed his fingers along her cheek, traced her jaw. “I want to get to know you.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered.

  “This could get complicated.” Complicated? She had no idea.

  She nodded, clasped his hand. “I know.”

  He glanced at the closed door, back at her lips. “I want to kiss you.”

  Bree leaned on tiptoe, inches from his mouth and whispered, “I want to kiss you, too.”

  That was all the encouragement he needed. Adam pulled her to him, kissed her with a need and urgency that shut down his brain and the logic that went with it. What was it about this woman that made him forget he didn’t believe in love and happily-ever-after anymore? Bree moaned and flung her arms around his neck, pressed her body against his. Adam lifted her onto the desk, nudged her legs open and stepped between them. She felt so damn good, so right. So…perfect. When she clamped those long legs around his waist and eased back onto the desk, he followed, forgetting where he was, what he was doing, what he was supposed to be doing. Nothing existed but the woman underneath him and the need to get closer. Unfortunately, an annoying alarm disrupted whatever might have transpired on her desk and forced them apart. Adam mumbled a curse, tried to find the source of the noise, and narrowed the sound to Bree’s bottom desk drawer. “What’s in there?”

  “Dang it!” Bree straightened her blouse and smoothed the skirt that had ridden up her thighs. She leaned over and opened the drawer, yanked a purse the size of a travel case from it, and fished around inside. “It’s my cell phone alarm,” she said, removing the phone and turning off the alarm. “I’m so sorry.” She laid a hand on Adam’s forearm, gave him a smile that could melt ice. “Truly I am.” Bree inched closer, ran a hand through his hair. “I completely forgot about my meeting.” Her cheeks turned the color of her pink nail polish and her voice dipped. “You seem to have that effect on me.”