“Oh, thank you.” Mom spoke up first, accepting the offer. “We would be honored to attend. Wouldn’t we, Garrett?”
“Absolutely.” He looked across the table at Meagan. He wanted to see her in her bridesmaid’s dress, carrying her blue rose. He wanted to see Ivy in her flower-girl finery, too, traipsing down the aisle with Candy’s doga dog. “It sounds like it’s going to be a spectacular ceremony.”
“Thanks. We think so, too,” Tanner said, joining the conversation. Ivy was seated on his lap, clutching her new doll. Every so often, though, she would shoot Garrett an impish smile.
The kid was an adorable flirt. Meagan, however, was behaving properly. But he knew how wild she could be in bed, tumbling the sheets with him. Not that he should be thinking about that now, especially in the company of his inquisitive mother.
Earlier, his mom had marveled over a photograph of Meagan and Tanner’s mom that was perched on the fireplace mantel, saying that it brought back memories of having known her. Garrett was fascinated by the picture, too. Meagan looked a lot like her mom, with her long, straight dark hair, warm brown eyes and gentle smile.
Before the evening came to a close, Garrett said to Meagan, “Will you give me a tour of your house?” He’d yet to see it, even if he’d caught a faraway glimpse of it out back. “Maybe Ivy can come along, too?”
She smiled. “I’d love to. And I’m sure that Ivy—”
“Me, go.” The toddler tried to wiggle out of her uncle’s arms.
Tanner laughed. “Okay, little one. Hold on.” He helped her down. “Go ahead.”
Ivy dashed over to Garrett and reached for his hand. He stood and accepted her tiny palm in his. Garrett’s mom was watching him again.
“Do you want to join us?” Meagan asked her. “And see where I live?”
“That’s all right,” Mom politely declined. “You three go ahead. I’m more than content to stay here and finish my tea.”
Garrett understood that his mom didn’t want to go trudging across the grass. But he figured that she was trying to give him and Meagan a bit of privacy, too. Nonetheless, he could feel her checking them out as they walked away.
He and Meagan crossed the lawn, heading toward their destination, with Ivy and her new doll in tow.
The area was well lit, with flowers, fruit trees and leafy vines crawling up trellises.
“This is a great piece of property,” Garrett said.
“Candy’s garden is the focal point. She spends a lot of time tending to it. I’ve been learning so much from her about plants and flowers.”
“Have you been doing some gardening, too?”
“Not yet, but I hope to. Ivy likes digging in the dirt, though.” She laughed a little. “So does Yogi. Sometimes she and Ivy get in there and play together.”
“What a sight that must be.” He laughed, too, and glanced down at Ivy, who was bouncing along between them. “Two loyal companions, with soil-smudged faces, hands and paws.”
Meagan smiled. “They are a pair.” A moment later, she stopped at the guesthouse and said, “Here we are.”
Her home was surrounded by a picket fence. She opened the gate, and Garrett glanced around. Her private yard sparkled, with a fountain out front.
“This is nice.” Now he could envision her here the next time they talked on the phone. “It suits you.”
“Tanner chose it with me in mind. He used to live in a bachelor pad above his office at his stables. But after I got pregnant and he agreed to take Ivy, he searched for a place that could accommodate all of us. He knows that I like fairy tales, so that’s why he thought this guesthouse would appeal to me. It reminded him of the magic cottages in the stories I used to read.” She gestured toward the exterior. “It’s even called storybook architecture. Initially, it was too small, though. He remodeled it and added a nursery for Ivy.”
They went inside. The kitchen was quaint and colorful, and the living room boasted an air of comfort, with a window that showcased the fountain.
Meagan’s bedroom, rife with warm woods and brass accents, gave Garrett a thrill, simply because she slept there each night. Now he understood why she’d been so fascinated with his room, too.
Next up was the nursery, which was decorated to the hilt with all sorts of girlishness.
“Mine,” Ivy said, letting him know this was where she’d been sleeping these past few nights.
Garrett smiled. “That’s a nice bed you have, with all those stuffed animals in it.” He pointed to another section of the room. “And look there, you even have your own rocking horse.”
Ivy rushed over to the horse, proud to show it off.
“I just got that for her,” Meagan said. “It’s the first thing I ever bought her on my own, with money from my new job.” She moved closer to him. “It felt good to give my daughter a gift that my brother didn’t have to pay for.”
“Maybe I should give you a raise so you can buy her even more things.”
“My wage is just fine.”
“Yeah, but the other money that’s coming out of it—the restitution...”
“That’s fine, too. It’s my responsibility to pay it back.”
Garrett touched Meagan’s cheek, and she lifted her hand to cover his. Ivy came back over to them, wanting in on the affection. Garrett picked her up, and she put her head on his shoulder.
Meagan gazed at him with admiration. “My daughter has good taste in men.”
“And I’m totally into her mother.” A romantic impulse came over him, kicking him into high gear. “I want you to go out with me.”
“Out with you?”
“On a date. Remember when I mentioned it before, that if I had my way, I would take you out for the world to see?”
She took a step back. “But I’m not ready for that. Telling our families was enough. We’re supposed to be taking things slow, remember?”
“Yes, but, in theory, dating is taking it slow. That’s what people typically do before they sleep together. We started off backwards.”
“I know, but...”
“Men are supposed to take women out, to wine and dine them, to show them how special they are.” He looked into her eyes. “And you’re far more special than anyone else I’ve ever been with. Please, Meagan. Let me treat you the way you should be treated.”
Her voice cracked. “How am I supposed to say no to that?”
“You’re not.”
She waited a motionless beat before she said, “Then my answer is yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m any less scared.”
“Scared of what? Being gossiped about?” He made the same case he’d made before. “We can’t live our lives based on what others think.”
“I know.” She released a jittery breath. “But that’s only part of it.”
“And what’s the other part? Getting attached to me? It’s too late for that. Whatever feelings you have for me, I have for you, too, so what’s wrong with exploring them?”
“And dating like normal people? You make it sound so simple.”
“It can be, if we let it.” He was still holding her child in his arms. But Meagan needed him, too. Intent on quieting her fears, he moved forward to kiss her, a light touch of his lips to hers—proving how good they were together.
And how much he wanted to make this work.
Eleven
Meagan kept changing her clothes, freaking out about what to wear on her date with Garrett. She couldn’t afford to buy a new outfit, and she didn’t want to ask her brother for the money. Her old clothes weren’t out of style, so at least she didn’t have to worry about that. Women’s fashion hadn’t changed that dramatically. But the fancy outfits were from her party days with Neil, and that made her uncomfortable.
Still, she didn’t have a choice but to wear someth
ing nice. Garrett was taking her on an upscale date: dinner and dancing. She glanced at the clock in her room. She needed to get her butt in gear. He would be arriving to pick her up soon. Thank goodness her makeup and hair were done.
She went for a glittery red minidress, pairing it with strappy heels. For her jewelry, she chose a sterling silver squash blossom necklace and hoop earrings. She added a turquoise bracelet, too.
Ivy was with Candy and Tanner for the night. Meagan would be going home with Garrett later. She’d already packed an overnight bag.
This date was supposed to give their budding romance a sense of normalcy. But all she felt was anxiety. With each second that ticked by, her excitement mounted. And so did her nerves. This was a turning point in her life. Not getting attached to Garrett was impossible. She was falling for him.
Big time.
But he’d admitted that he was falling for her, too, that his attachment matched hers. And from now on, they would be seeing each other openly.
Heavens, this was scary. Beautifully scary.
Meagan checked her reflection in the mirror one last time as the doorbell rang. She dashed off to answer it, anxious to greet Garrett.
He looked incredibly gallant in a classic black suit, with a lavender-colored shirt and silk tie. No doubt he was sporting all kinds of designer labels. Yet he seemed completely enthralled with Meagan and her little red dress. He just stood there, staring at her. He also had a bouquet of bright yellow gerbera daisies in his hand. She could’ve melted on the spot.
“Wow,” he said. “You’re on fire.”
“You wouldn’t believe how many times I changed.”
“Well, you nailed it.” He turned over the daisies to her. “These are for old times’ sake, but you probably already figured that out.”
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She clutched the bouquet to her chest. “And you’re as handsome as ever.”
He smiled. “Invite me in?”
“Yes, of course.” She was out of practice. Or maybe she’d never actually been on a date like this before. Neil never cared about taking her out, unless it was to hang out at clubs and try to rub elbows with the rich and famous. “Come in, please.” She held up the flowers. “And I’ll put these in water.”
Garrett entered her house, and she searched for a vase, uncertain if she actually had one. Candy had stocked the kitchen before Meagan had moved in.
She found a lovely glass container in the cabinet above the fridge. But it was way in the back.
“I’ll get that for you,” Garrett offered. He was tall enough to reach the shelf without stretching.
He handed the vase to her, and she arranged the daisies. “When you bring me home tomorrow, these will be waiting for me.”
He swept his gaze along her bare legs. “Too bad the flowers from the charity event are gone.”
She felt her skin flush. He was talking about the body painting that had been done on her ankle. “It came off in the bath that night.”
His gaze roamed over her again. “Are you all set for this evening?”
She nodded. “My purse and overnight bag are in my room. I just need to get them.” Before she walked away, she asked, “So where are we going? What restaurant?”
“It’s a private dinner club located in the basement of a nineteenth-century home. In the late 1920s and early ’30s it was a Prohibition speakeasy run by Sally Sue Milton, the widow whose house it was then. I haven’t been there yet. Jake told me about it and sponsored me to join. He said they serve French food and have a live band that plays jazz, blues and Latin ballads.”
“It sounds wonderful.”
“I thought so, too. I wanted to go somewhere with you that was new to me. And hopefully new to you, too.”
“It definitely is.” She smiled. “Sally Sue must have been a character.”
He smiled, too. “So they say.”
“If the club is in the basement where the speakeasy used to be, what do they do with the rest of the house?”
“It’s used for private parties and special events. But it’s only available to members.”
She suspected that it cost a pretty penny to join. His billionaire status was showing, but she didn’t want to think too deeply about that. She’d stolen from him, and now she was trying to separate herself from his money, to push it into the background.
But it wasn’t easy. He owned a five-star hotel and resort and lived in a house on a hill, overlooking the ocean. She was exposed to his lifestyle every time she saw him. And tonight was no exception.
After she gathered her belongings, he escorted her to the chauffeured limousine that was waiting to take them to dinner.
* * *
Sally Sue’s former residence was a fascinating place, and Garrett was glad that he’d brought Meagan here.
Patrons entered through the rear, taking a narrow stairwell to the basement before reaching the original speakeasy door.
The decor in the subterranean space was far more elegant than it had been during Prohibition, but the hidden vibe remained. Sally Sue’s picture was on the cocktail menu, and Meagan seemed thoroughly taken with the strangely genteel old broad. Meagan had even ordered a drink named after the woman: a shot of gin served in a vintage teacup. It came with a bowl of sugar on the side that you stirred in yourself. The gin provided by the bootleggers in this area was too bitter for Sally Sue’s tastes, so she’d sweetened hers right at the table, sipping it like afternoon tea. In those days, drinking out of teacups was common practice in case of raids.
Garrett chose a Gin Rickey, consisting of gin, lime juice and seltzer. It was a popular Prohibition-era drink referenced by F. Scott Fitzgerald in The Great Gatsby. To Garrett, that made it even more interesting. It tasted pretty good, too.
He and Meagan had already nibbled on appetizers, followed by marinated salads, and now they were waiting for their entrées. The band was just starting their set. Later, Garrett would sweep his date onto the dance floor.
He asked her, “Do you know how the term speakeasy came to be?”
She sipped her Sally Sue. “No. How?”
“Because it’s what bartenders used to say to the patrons, reminding them to speak easy or quietly in public about the illegal places where they were gathering to drink.”
“Oh, I like that.”
And he liked the way the candlelight was playing off her eyes. Her shimmery red dress was enhanced by the flame, too. “They gave me a brochure about speakeasies when I joined this club.”
“Then tell me more about what you learned.”
“In order to gain entrance, you would have to say a password or use a specific handshake or a secret knock.”
“I wonder what types of passwords they used.”
“I don’t know. But I doubt they were as complicated as what we’re using for our computers now.”
She laughed. “Can you imagine if they had to use upper and lowercase letters? And numbers and symbols?”
He laughed, as well. “They would’ve been standing there all night, trying to remember it.” He glanced at the wax melting on the candle and then back at his gorgeous date. “Another interesting thing was how Prohibition changed the drinking habits of women. Prior to that, mostly they just sipped bits of wine or sherry. But then ladies like Sally Sue came along. In came the flappers, too, with their bobbed hair, ruby lips and short, sassy skirts. They flooded the speakeasies, smoking and drinking and being wild.”
Meagan held up her teacup. “Here’s to those old-time gals.”
He joined her, lifting his highball glass. “And to the modern woman here with me tonight.”
Her gaze locked on to his. “This is already turning out to be one of the most exciting nights of my life.”
His heart punched his chest. “Then let’s make it even
more memorable and steal a kiss on the dance floor. Public displays of affection aren’t usually my thing, but one slow, sexy kiss won’t hurt.”
“It won’t hurt at all.” Her delicately painted teacup rattled as she placed it back on the table. “It will probably feel...” She couldn’t seem to find the words.
He understood. He couldn’t think of anything else to say, either. He swigged the rest of his drink.
“Are you going to get another one?” she asked.
He glanced at his empty glass. “Sure.” He signaled the waiter for another Gin Rickey. “But two is my limit.” He wanted to be clearheaded for the rest of the night. “How about you?”
“I’m good. One Sally Sue is enough for me.”
He suspected that Meagan’s lips would taste nice and sweet from the sugar. “Too bad I can’t kiss you right now.”
“You’re too far away.” She graced him with a playful smile. “You’d have to climb over the table to get to me.”
“Don’t tempt me, dear lady. I just might do it.” But he didn’t, of course. He minded his manners.
His second cocktail arrived, along with their meals. They’d both ordered filet mignon with bordelaise sauce, accompanied by gratin potatoes and porcini mushrooms.
“This looks wonderful,” she said.
“Yes, it does.” His appetite was plenty strong, for his food and for her. He gazed at Meagan while they ate.
She moaned her appreciation. “This is like dying and going to heaven.”
“I’ll bet dessert will be even better.”
Her eyes lit up. “We should share some pastries.”
“Angel wings.”
She blinked. “What?”
“If we’ve died and gone to heaven, then we should have angel wings. They’re fried dough covered in powdered sugar and shaped into ribbons. They’re thin and crunchy. But, in France, they make a soft variety, too, made with thicker dough. Those are called pillows. They might have that type here since they serve French cuisine.”
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