He wasn’t about to let her know he’d sooner chop off a toe as soar above the ground. He’d never aspired to sail above the clouds. He was a rubber hits the road kind of guy. He preferred to be a man in control of his own destiny as he was behind the wheel of the Javelin. No one could blame him for being nervous about giving strangers responsibility for his life thirty thousand feet up in the air.
He found out soon enough that Lillian didn’t share his concern. They’d no more than left the runway when she fell asleep against him. Her head tipped over and her soft body wedged against him as she shifted in her sleep. While she napped, he tried to figure out just when someone else took over his life.
As close as he could tell, it had been sometime between seven this morning, when his old buddy showed up on his doorstep, and four minutes after ten, when he signed that damned paper of Lillian’s instead of ripping it up. The one thing Wes had sworn never to do was sign on the dotted line. No way was he going to end up like his old man, dead of a heart attack at forty-three with nothing to show for a life’s work but a stack of debts and a little bit of burial insurance. Nope, Wes wasn’t about to sell his soul like that. He planned to remain his own man.
He didn’t mind work, provided he got to do it his way. As long as it was legal, he’d do anything. Mow lawns, lay bricks, roof garages, whatever it took to keep body and soul together while he laid the groundwork for his dream. Even before he got behind the wheel for the first time, he knew what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted to buy classic muscle cars, restore them and sell them to people who loved them as much as he did. If it meant pretending to be somebody’s husband to get his custom auto business off the ground, so be it.
He’d been buying, rebuilding and repainting wrecks for four years now, and he knew he was on the verge of hitting it big. The biggest car show in Detroit was twenty-seven days away, and if he could walk away with top prize, his hardscrabble days were over.
And maybe his mother would finally understand why college wasn’t for him. He’d made good enough grades in his year of community college but he’d felt like a trapped animal in those classrooms. Mom hadn’t been happy when he dropped out, but she felt better when he landed a nine-to-five, white-collar job.
He managed to sock away most of his pay and even drew up a plan for his restoration business that would satisfy any bank loan officer. Then came the double whammy. The economy went bust and so did his job, and Mom’s cut in hours led to her falling behind on her mortgage. He loved his city, he loved his mother and that nest egg managed to keep the wolf at bay.
But it was inching closer to his door again. He was betting his future on the Javelin. If it meant tolerating this woman for a weekend, so be it.
****
“Umph.” Lillian moved against him, her eyelids fluttering as she began to awaken. Wes sat very still as she wiggled, appreciating the view where her pristine white silk blouse gaped slightly open to show the curve of her cleavage. Her legs weren’t the only very attractive thing about her.
“Oh.” Lillian’s eyes were wide open, and she realized where Wes’s eyes focused. She pulled the blouse together, straightened her jacket and said, “Has the pilot told us to fasten our seatbelts yet?”
“I think he’s about to. I’d stay put.”
Lillian gave him a tight smile. “I’m not you. Let me out.”
Bossy woman. Not even a “please.” Still he obliged, standing so she could move out into the aisle and toward the back of the plane. His buddy Bobby owed him big time.
Until Tiny’s unpleasant visit, his revamped life had been good. Happy Hour every night at Smokey’s, where he could find female companionship if he wanted, or walk out alone. A cozy little house he rented cheap, big enough for poker games on Friday nights and entertaining good friends like Bobby.
“Three thou, dude.” Bobby had hunched down over his coffee in Wes’s kitchen, hanging on to the mug with both hands like someone was going to steal it away. The words shot out rapid-fire, taking every bit of Wes’s concentration to follow along.
“Easy job, man. Pick up the package, haul it to Kentucky on a big bird, dump it off. No sweat. Easy money, man, to hand-deliver something for some rich broad.”
Another swallow of mug’s black contents and Bobby said, “Do it myself if it weren’t for the old lady. Gonna pop that kid any second now. Swears if I ain’t there, I’ll be singing soprano when she gets out of the maternity ward.” He sipped some more, than repeated, “Easy money, dude, for a few hours’ work.”
Wes had every reason in the world to trust Bobby. Their friendship dated back to tenth grade when they got caught trying to drill a hole into the women’s locker room back wall. That, and the other adventures that had followed, cemented their friendship fast. One thing Wes had learned then and still knew was that Bobby was a stand-up guy. Plus he was incapable of lying, even in the tightest jam. If Bobby said this was an easy way to make a fast buck, it was.
Still Wes wished Bobby had listened a little more carefully to the guy representing Miss Osborne. He might not have been so eager to sign up if he’d known he wasn’t delivering a package, but pretending to be hitched. Then again, he could have backed out before he signed that contract, but three thousand bucks…that wasn’t bad pay to make goo-goo eyes at her for one evening.
“Excuse me, please.” Lillian was back, waiting to return to her window seat. Her voice put out a chill that could keep meat. Wes figured he wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind when she looked around for a fake husband. But if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride, as his granny used to say, which meant that sometimes you just have to accept what life gives you.
Wes had no more than settled in his seat when the “fasten seat belts” sign blinked on and the flight attendant advised them to place their seat backs in an upright position in preparation for landing. Wes felt his innards tense even as he reminded himself that the odds of dying behind the wheel on an Interstate highway were far greater than in this hunk of tin. Trouble was, someone else was calling the shots. If he were flying this plane…well, that would be different. Wes was a man who controlled his own destiny, be it good, bad or indifferent. He could handle almost anything as long as he was in charge.
The fact that he hadn’t been in charge since Lillian Osborne had snatched that damned contract from his limp fingers might explain the tightness at his temples and the certainly that his life had taken an incredibly wrong turn. Despite the tenseness vibrating through his body at what was coming when they hit the ground he could still sense a different sort of tension in his companion.
Back in Detroit she’d been a dragon lady, snapping out orders all the way to the airport. Of course, he was pretty sure he hadn’t seemed like the brightest light bulb in the pack, either. Confusion can do that to a man.
The ding above him made him forget everything except the downward pitch of the aircraft and the way the ground rushed up at them as the pilot brought the plane down at Bluegrass Airport. Lillian sat in silence as they taxied to the terminal and the pilot announced the all clear. Then she erupted like a geyser.
“You remember what I said before we left? You follow my lead.” She leaned forward, a frown cutting between her eyes. “This is not a time for independent thinking. And for heaven’s sake, if you have any manners use them.”
The other passengers were standing and grabbing their carry-ons. With the engines shut off, the air inside the plane was warm and stuffy. All Wes wanted was to get out of this tin prison, and here she was, dressing him down with orders on how he was going to act and talk and breathe.
He’d had enough.
“Look, Lil, you didn’t yank me up out of a gutter.” He glared at her, forced close by the narrow space. “I know how to use a fork, I don’t pick my teeth at the table and there are a few people who think I’m a damn fine conversationalist.”
“See? That’s what I mean.” Lillian’s voice sharpened to near shrewism. “The man we’re meeting is Franklin Love
joy, founder and president of Lovejoy Family Favorites, Inc. You will not curse in front of him, understand?”
Enough was enough. Wes leaned as close as the seats would allow and said in the same firm tone he used to persuade his aunt’s poodle to stay off the bed, “That is the last time you will ever speak to me like that. One kick under the table, a glare from across the room and your precious Franklin Lovejoy will discover what a liar you are. Do you understand?”
He knew women. He waited for her shoulders to quiver and the tears to come. The last thing he expected as he waited for an apology was for her to square her shoulders and tighten her mouth like she was about to ream him a new one. The woman ought to be grateful she’d found someone to go along with her cockamamie plan. Instead, he could tell she was about to let loose with a tirade that would embarrass them both.
He couldn’t let her do that. For her sake or his. So he fell back on what he always did when faced with a woman about to make a scene.
He kissed her. Full on the lips, hard enough to shock her into forgetting what she was mad about. At first she stiffened. Then she relaxed at the firm pressure of his lips against his and, much to his surprise, kissed him back. He might have let her do it all day if the flight attendant hadn’t announced they could now deplane, and a teenage boy behind them hadn’t whistled and muttered, “Get a room, man.”
Wes didn’t care what that punk, or anyone else, thought. He was still trying to figure the kiss thing out as he grabbed their bags from the overhead compartment and followed Lillian. Sure, it had been a while since he’d done more than wink at a woman from across the room but he knew damn well this wasn’t any ordinary kiss he’d shared with the dragon lady. He suspected she knew it, too.
She was doing a good job of hiding her reaction. As they stepped into the terminal, her eyes scanned the crowd and not his face. Not only that, but she stayed a good two feet ahead of him as they walked through the crowd.
Until she spotted some old guy with a thick head of gray hair and a tan as fake as a beauty queen’s smile. Then she honed in on Wes, reaching out to latch onto his arm with one hand, waving to the old dude with the other.
“Mr. Lovejoy.” She favored the guy with a twenty-carat smile. “What a pleasure to finally meet you. You look every bit as handsome as your picture.”
“You’re too kind.” The well-preserved geezer beamed and squeezed her hand before he turned to Wes. “This must be your other half.”
“My husband Wesley,” she agreed, smiling up at Wes as if he were a hot fudge sundae and she’d just been handed a spoon.
“He’s been so excited about coming to Kentucky. It’s his first trip here. I hope we’ll have a chance to see more than just the hotel.”
A grin split Frank Lovejoy’s face. “I can promise you that,” he said, leading the way toward the baggage carousel. “We’re diversifying, which is why I’m looking for new blood for our advertising campaign. The board and I were intrigued by some of your ideas, and we think you might be right for our newly-acquired line of family adventure equipment.”
“Family adventure equipment?” Lillian asked. Her eyes widened and she folded her arms across her body. “I’m not sure exactly what that is.”
“You’ll find out soon enough, young lady. You can forget about any hotel. I’ve arranged for you and the mister here to spend a few days at one of our fine state parks, communing with nature.”
“Communing with nature?” Lillian’s voice became a little higher and a little thinner. “What does that mean?”
Frank’s grin widened. “Camping in the great outdoors with nothing but a roof of canvas between you and the stars. Sleeping in a Lovejoy outdoor residence. Cooking with a Lovejoy meal set. Sitting on Lovejoy outdoor furniture as you watch the campfire’s dying embers.”
The man’s mouth kept moving, but Wes didn’t hear much after the word “camping.” He’d been born and raised in the land of asphalt, which suited him fine. The closest he’d come to roughing it was a fishing trip with his Uncle Herb where all he’d caught two tiny bluegills and a hook through his thumb.
The woman wasn’t paying him enough for this.
When Frank’s mouth closed at last, Wes made his move.
“Darling, I think I’ve got something in my eye. Come check.” He yanked Lillian over to the side and waved Frank on.
“You go ahead,” he told the older man. “We’ll catch up.”
He held Lillian’s arm in an iron grip until the coast was clear.
She was already sputtering “I didn’t know” and “You signed a contract” before he could tell her exactly what he thought of conniving women who snared men into their traps like flies into a spider web. He tried anyway.
“We had a deal.” He knew he was louder than Lillian liked, but he didn’t much care. “Maybe you remember? You pay me and I pretend to be your brand new, loving husband. Fly in and fly out, you said. Meet the man when we get there, and spend an hour at dinner with him and his wife. Watch dirty movies up in the room while you talk business afterwards if I want, as long as I didn’t screw things up for you.
“You lied to me, lady, and I don’t like it. I’m out of here on the next flight north.”
He had a lot more to say, but he made the mistake of taking a real good look at Lillian. Her bottom lip quivered, reminding him of that kiss on the plane, and her eyes fixed on his face. His ire began to slip away and that damned protective instinct he’d been cursed with started to rise.
“Don’t do this. I need this account more than you’ll ever know.” Her voice caught, and the last of Wes’s anger dissipated. “I’ll lose the company if I don’t land it. Everything I have is riding on making the company successful, and that depends entirely on Frank Lovejoy.”
Wes fought the unfamiliar urge to comfort her. That struggle made his voice brusque as he asked, “What about your partners? You’ve got three names on the door. They ought to be the ones to help you, not me.”
Lillian hesitated for a moment. “There are no other partners. I made those names up because I thought it sounded like an old, established firm that way.”
“So you’re it. You’re the company?”
She nodded. “If I don’t land this contract, there will be no company. I’ve sunk everything I have into making it a success, right down to cashing in the savings bonds I got for my childhood birthdays. I’m good at what I do, Wes, really good. If I wasn’t, I’d never have found out that every one of Frank Lovejoy’s top executives has a spouse. Or that he expects everyone he deals with to have that same sort of family commitment.”
Wes could almost hear the click of the light bulb going off in his head. “Let me get this straight. You didn’t hire a husband to increase your chances of winning. You had to produce a significant other—gold wedding band kind of significant other—just to stay in the game.”
“Everything I’ve worked for since my first day of college is on the line here,” Lillian snapped. “If you walk out now, it’s over. I’m out of a job, my reputation is ruined, and it will take me forever to pay back my loans on a business that failed.” Her lower lip quivered again; those incredible eyes fixed on his.
“Okay, fine, the farce continues.” The words slipped out, and Wes didn’t have the heart to take them back once her face lit up in a dazzling smile. “You’d better get Lovejoy to sign on the dotted line, though, because I’m not doing this for a lousy three thousand. I’d say we’re looking more at five.”
Lillian shook her head and transformed back into the dragon lady.
“The contract specifies price and length of service,” she said firmly. “I agreed to provide housing and meals. There was nothing in there detailing what kind of housing and meals.”
Wes stepped close enough that he could almost touch those amazingly long eyelashes. Close enough to inhale another whiff of that incredible perfume. Close enough to hear her shallow breathing as she stood her ground, even though he knew her every instinct was screaming to run.
>
“Call it a bonus,” he growled. “For performance above and beyond the call of duty.”
Lillian gulped and nodded, her eyes never leaving his face. Wes had long ago learned the fine art of intimidation although he’d never used the skill on a woman before. Of course, Lillian Osborne wasn’t like any other woman he’d met before. Spending the weekend with her was like entering enemy territory. If he didn’t watch himself, he’d forget the credo he’d lived by for so long: The trouble with women was that women were trouble. He wasn’t cut out for the happily ever after, rose-covered cottage crap. He liked his life just the way it was, and no woman was going to saddle him with kids, a mortgage and a million insurance policies.
Especially not one like Lillian, with the world’s softest blue eyes and hardest heart.
Chapter Two
Things like this weren’t supposed to happen to people like her. Lillian knew that. After all, she’d been dubbed one of thirty women under thirty to watch in Motor City Today, the top city business magazine. But if she didn’t land this contract, she was toast. Going down in flames with a tattered reputation put a definite hitch in her career plans.
“Is everything all right?” Lillian couldn’t miss the worried look on Frank Lovejoy’s face as she walked toward him, her pretend husband a few steps behind.
“Wes suddenly realized he’d left his shaving gear behind.” Lillian pasted a smile on her face. “He has this electric razor he loves.”
“I know how you feel, pal.” Frank slapped Wes on the back. “I’ve got this vibrating back pillow the little lady bought me for Christmas some years back. I’ll tell you, if I forget it when I travel, it’s like I’ve left a part of me behind.”
Unforgettable Heroes Boxed Set Page 38