Kissing Mr. Right

by Michelle Major

  “You don’t have to wait. I want you in the meeting with me. It’s your work we’re pitching.”

  She went perfectly still. “You mean it?”

  “Of course.” He tapped his fingers against his chin and studied the plans again. “I can give you a few tips on—” He broke off when he realized Jenny had bolted out of her seat and was heading for the door. “Hey, where are you going?”

  She paused in the doorway to his office. “I’ve got to run home and change. I can’t meet the clients looking like Daisy Duke.”

  His gaze skimmed over her skin tight T-shirt and skimpy cutoffs. He was used to the way Jenny dressed on the job site, but it probably wouldn’t fly in a meeting with key members of the park board. “Good point. Call me on your cell and we’ll go over the meeting setup so you’re prepared.”

  She gave him a quick thumbs-up and disappeared down the hall. Ty took one last look at the design before rolling up the sketches. It still baffled him that Jenny had that much natural talent and hadn’t shared it with him before now.

  Summer was around the corner, and the landscaping business was moving quickly into high gear. But he ignored the pile of phone messages and bid requests Jenny had placed in his in-box.

  He knew it was a mistake to get involved with his father’s latest development, just like it was probably stupid to let things go any further with Kendall. He’d tried to move past his problems with his parents, but the Silver Creek story was going to bring everything to the surface once again. Plus Kendall had made it clear that her future was in New York, not Colorado, so it would be easier for both of them to cut ties now. But he was already in too deep to walk away.

  He turned back to his computer and tapped a key. The Silver Creek development data blinked onto the screen.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Kendall checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror for the umpteenth time that morning. She pushed a curl off her forehead and jumped when the doorbell sounded from downstairs.

  I can do this, she thought, smoothing her hands over the delicate linen of her pale yellow sundress.

  Of course she could.

  She’d been managing her way through dinners with families like the Bishops since grade school. She picked up her small purse from the bathroom counter and headed for the stairs.

  A warm breeze danced across her bare arms as she pulled open the front door of her condo. The butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach began a quick two-step at the sight of Ty standing on her stoop. He wore a finely woven slate blue sweater that was tucked into tailored khaki pants. The sweater accentuated the brilliant color of his eyes and molded over the contours of his upper body.

  It was odd to see him without his typical uniform of jeans, flannel, and a T-shirt. Kendall caught a glimpse of the man who had grown up in a world of wealth and privilege. It was evident in the easy confidence of his posture. His clothes, although understated, hung gracefully in the way of expensive apparel.

  “You look lovely,” Ty said.

  She smiled. “Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

  He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I figured this look would be more your style.”

  She thought about the night on his porch and felt color rise to her cheeks. She reached for the bottle of white wine on her entry table, hoping he didn’t notice her blush, and stepped onto the front porch. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I sort of miss the ubiquitous flannel.”

  He grinned down at her. “What can I say? Chicks dig flannel.”

  With an eye roll, she turned to close the door, but he pulled her against him. His arms wrapped around her and she was enveloped in the scent of soap and man. “Thanks for coming with me today,” he said, pressing a kiss against her temple.

  She leaned into him, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. She tilted her head so she could just see his face out of the corner of her eye. “I was sort of surprised to get your message yesterday confirming. I thought you might cancel.”

  He leaned his head against hers and sighed. “By the end of today, you might wish I had.” He took her hand and led her down the front walk.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Did you investigate my father?” He ignored her question.

  She glanced over at him. He looked straight ahead, the profile of his strong features giving away nothing. “You know I’ve researched both GoldStar and ERB Investments.”

  “Let me rephrase the question.” He opened the passenger door of the truck and turned to her. “Since I told you that GoldStar is my father’s company, have you delved into his personal history?”

  She stepped up into the truck’s cab, feeling as if she were walking into a potential minefield. “Of course.”

  He nodded, his mouth drawn tight in a grim line.

  “Ty, I still don’t understand—”

  He held up one finger. “Hold that thought.”

  Kendall shook her head as he closed the door and walked around the front of the truck. Rays of sunlight flashed against the shiny silver hood.

  Ty climbed in and started the engine, shifting into gear and easing away from the curb. “Pretty impressive, huh?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the road.

  “Your driving?”

  One end of his mouth curved up. “My dad.”

  “Oh.” She thought about what she’d learned of Eric Bishop. “It’s a remarkable success story. A self-made man who started with nothing and built an empire in the span of thirty years.”

  Ty made a right-hand turn onto the ramp to the interstate. “It was a little more than nothing.”

  “You’re referring to your grandfather’s farm.”

  “Yep. Forty acres of prime real estate just inside the Boulder city limits.”

  “He called the subdivision Aspen Grove. That was the first piece of land GoldStar developed. He was twenty-five when he inherited the land, right?”

  Ty nodded but said nothing. His wide shoulders went rigid. His tension clogged the air of the truck’s interior. She felt her own muscles tighten and willed herself to relax.

  “Ty, what is the problem? You tell me your father is a crook but offer no facts to back it up. I’ve looked at both the holding company and GoldStar from every angle I can think of and found nothing illegal or even unethical.”

  He glanced sideways, his expression hard as granite. “Keep looking,” he told her with fierce calm.

  “Damn it,” Kendall hissed. “Why won’t you tell me what you know?”

  “He’s my father.”

  “So what?” Her voice echoed in the confined space. She closed her eyes and took a deliberate breath. Shouting would get her nowhere. “Tell me,” she said with a calm she didn’t feel.

  Ty was silent for a long time.

  Finally, he opened his mouth as if to speak. Kendall watched him, her own breath held in anticipation.

  His lips drew together tightly and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Kendall. I can’t explain my reasons to you right now.”

  She tilted her head back against the headrest and stared at the truck’s ceiling. After several minutes she asked, “Why did you invite me to come with you today?”

  “I thought it would be fun.”

  She arched one brow.

  He ran one hand through his hair, giving the thick blond waves a tousled look that was at odds with the neat lines of his fitted sweater. “Ok, maybe fun isn’t the right word. But I do want to introduce you to my family. My father likes to hide behind the holding company, but he can’t resist the spotlight, so you’d have met him eventually. This will give you access quicker than you’d get through the station.”

  The warm feeling that spread across her middle because Ty wanted to introduce her to his family almost sidetracked her. Then she thought of what he had and hadn’t told her abo
ut his father. “It would help if I knew—”

  He reached over and grabbed her hand. “Not today. But I’ll think about it, all right?”

  She liked the feel of his rough hand enveloping hers. “You’re the one who brought it up in the first place,” she grumbled.

  “I know.” He lifted her hand to his mouth, rubbing his lips softly against the back of her knuckles. “But could you just forget about it for a while?”

  “Only for a little while,” she agreed, her shoulders easing as a shiver ran down her arm.

  “Thanks.” Turning her hand over, he rubbed his cheek along the delicate flesh of her inner wrist.

  They exited off the highway after a half hour. The road turned and climbed. Large trees lined each side of the street, their branches speckled lime green with spring’s first leaves. The neighborhood seemed familiar, although Kendall had never been here before. From the manicured lawns to the four-car garages, the prosperity of the residents was as clear as if tax brackets had been stamped on each mailbox. Kendall sighed and closed her eyes, concentrating on the sweetness of Ty’s touch.

  A moment later, the truck pulled to a stop.

  “We’re here,” he said, giving her knuckles another kiss.

  She turned to look out the window and sat up so fast her seatbelt snapped against her chest. She spun back toward Ty. “This is your parents’ house?”

  He leaned his head closer to hers to peer out the window. “Last time I checked, this is it.”

  She swallowed hard. “You grew up here?”

  “My dad had the house built when I was around nine. Do you like it?”

  “I’ve stayed in hotels smaller than this place.”

  He chuckled. “It’s doesn’t seem that big on the inside.”

  She gave him a doubtful look.

  He kissed her bare shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said, pulling the keys from the ignition and opening his car door. “My mother is probably watching out the front window. She’ll wonder what we’re doing in here.”

  Kendall glanced once more toward the house. As if on cue, a curtain in one of the first floor windows fluttered. She took a fortifying breath. She’d been friends with children of wealthy families during her years at Graves, but the Bishops gave the word affluent new meaning.

  The house was two stories, with massive limestone columns on either side of the expansive front porch. Kendall lost count of how many windows ran along the front of the house. Really, calling it a house was an understatement. The Bishops lived in a mansion if she’d ever seen one.

  She pulled down the sun visor and checked her reflection in the small mirror. Ty opened her door just as she finished applying a fresh coat of gloss to her lips.

  “Ready?” he asked, offering his hand.

  “Ready.” She wiped her damp palms against the upholstered seat and placed her fingers in his.

  As they walked up the cobblestone path that led to the house, she tried to tug her hand away. She didn’t want to give his parents the wrong impression about their relationship.

  He released her fingers but looped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “Don’t worry,” he said. “They’re going to love you. You’re just their type.”

  Her stomach heaved.

  She knew exactly what type Ty was talking about: Kendall Clark, lovable staple of Denver’s evening news. Right now she felt more like the insecure twelve-year-old with secondhand clothes and dime-store shoes. She’d worked long and hard to distance herself from what these people would call her “poor, white trash family.” But at times like this the truth of her life came hurtling back at her, almost knocking her down with its intensity.

  She was a fraud.

  Ty felt Kendall’s back grow more rigid with each step they took toward the house. Her feet dragged so much he thought she might stop in her tracks. He turned to see what the problem was, struck by the level of reluctance in her gaze.

  “Hey.” He rubbed what he hoped was a soothing hand along her back. “My problems with my dad are between him and me. Don’t worry about it.”

  “It’s not that,” she said, her voice brittle. “It’s me. I don’t think—”

  Whatever she was going to say was cut off when his mother opened the front door. “Tyler John,” she called as she stepped onto the portico. “Where have you been? I expected you a half hour ago.”

  Ty sighed and waved. He steered Kendall up the path, worried she would bolt and run if he let her go. His mother walked to the edge of the porch as they approached. She stood on tiptoe, straightening his hair with her fingers.

  “You need a haircut,” she said with a frown.

  Slowly, Ty pulled her hand away from his head. He bent forward and kissed her cheek. “Happy Easter, Mother.” He straightened as his mother’s gaze shifted. “Remember, I told you a friend was coming with me for dinner. This is Kendall—”

  His mother swatted him on the arm. “Oh, my goodness,” she breathed, her eyes alight with recognition. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing a local celebrity. I thought it would be one of the floozies you usually date.”

  “Christ, Mom.”

  She swatted him harder. “Language, young man.” Turning to Kendall, she said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, dear. I watch the evening news on Channel 8 most nights.”

  “That’s so nice to hear, Mrs. Bishop,” Kendall said in her television anchor voice. “Thank you for including me in your family’s Easter celebration.”

  “Please call me Libby,” his mother said. “Come and meet everyone.” She took Kendall’s hand in hers and led her into the house.

  Ty followed the two women through the front door and tried to see his mother through Kendall’s eyes. Libby Bishop was a petite woman, almost a full head shorter than Kendall. She reminded Ty of Candace Bergen without the sense of humor. Her blond hair was perfectly styled in the same neat shoulder-length cut she’d worn since Ty and his siblings were in high school. Even in her mid-sixties, her skin was creamy with only faint lines around the corners of her eyes when she smiled. She didn’t smile often.

  Today she wore a calf-length skirt in a muted floral print and a fitted silk blouse. Ty hadn’t noticed when he’d hugged her moments ago, but he’d wager his mother was wearing a strand of pearls around her neck. Libby grocery shopped wearing pearls.

  Two sets of heels clicked in front of him on the polished marble of the two-story foyer. Kendall had compared his parents’ home to a hotel. Ty thought of it as a mausoleum. It was beautiful, cold, and almost completely devoid of life.

  Or at least love. That’s how it had felt to Ty growing up.

  Voices echoed from the back of the house. He followed his mother and Kendall through the oversized doorway that led to the large family room. Charlie sat on the large leather couch positioned toward the back of the room while Clare stood near the fireplace, a glass of wine dangling between her fingers.

  As he entered behind the two women, both his siblings turned to pierce him with similarly disapproving gazes.

  Shit.

  He shouldn’t have brought her here today, to be subjected to his parents’ scrutiny.

  Not that they’d have anything to complain about. It was Ty who made trouble, who was the problem as far as his family was concerned. His stomach turned to lead. His misguided plan to introduce Kendall to his family was about to blow up in his face.

  He concentrated on the back of her head as it tilted to take in the room’s elegant but tastefully understated décor and the picture window that faced the elaborate gardens in the back of the house.

  “Tyler is here,” his mother announced, restating the obvious.

  “About time you showed up, little brother,” Charlie called out, not bothering to get up from the sofa.

  His mother sent a warning look to Charlie. “And he brought a friend. This is Kendall Clark.
” She gave Kendall a warm smile. “The one with the large mouth is Charlie.” She nodded toward the fireplace. “That’s our daughter, Clare. Sweetie, you should switch to water until dinner. Too much wine will go to your head.”

  His sister walked toward the window, draining her glass in the process. “Whatever you say, Mother.”

  This was going to be worse than he’d thought.

  Kendall’s eyes widened fractionally. Libby’s loud tsk filled the silence before she turned to Kendall. “Would you like a drink?”

  Kendall kept her features as placid as his mother’s. Damn, she was good. “No, thank you. I’m fine.” She lifted the bottle of wine she carried. “I brought this for you.”

  His mother’s fingers curled around the bottle’s long neck. She studied the label for a moment and smiled her approval. “Thank you. What a lovely gesture. Tyler, your father is still in his office. I’ll bring him in to meet Kendall.”

  “Hey, Clare-bear,” Ty said as his sister ambled forward. He pulled her into a quick hug before she could resist. “Save some for the rest of us.”

  “There’s plenty to go around.” Clare extricated herself from his embrace and turned to Kendall. Her assessing gaze scanned her from head to toe. Ty held his breath, but his sister only said, “You’re taller in person than you seem on TV.”

  Kendall smiled cautiously. “That’s a beautiful necklace.”

  Clare fingered the colorful beads that sparkled against the fabric of her black tunic dress. “Thanks. I designed it.”

  “Really?” Kendall asked, stepping closer to his sister to examine the necklace. “Do you sell your pieces? Those colors would look great on camera.”

  As Clare smiled with genuine warmth, Ty wanted to hug Kendall. Not many people could cut through his sister’s tough shell so quickly. “I do. As a matter of fact—”

  “Clare has a master’s degree in marketing,” his mother interrupted from the doorway. “She works for our family business. The jewelry is a hobby.”

  Clare’s face clouded. “No, Mother, it’s not. And she asked . . .”