ALSO BY MICHELLE MAJOR
Still the One
Her Accidental Engagement
A Brevia Beginning
A Kiss on Crimson Ranch (Crimson, Colorado)
A Second Chance at Crimson Ranch (Crimson, Colorado)
Suddenly a Father (Crimson, Colorado)
The Taming of Delaney Fortune (The Fortunes of Texas: Cowboy Country)
Kissing Mr. Right
A Very Crimson Christmas (Crimson, Colorado)
Recipe for Kisses
A Baby and a Betrothal (Crimson, Colorado)
Fortune’s Special Delivery (The Fortunes of Texas: All Fortune’s Children)
Always the Best Man (Crimson, Colorado)
Tell Me Again
Christmas on Crimson Mountain (Crimson, Colorado)
A Fortune in Waiting (The Fortunes of Texas: The Secret Fortunes)
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2017 Michelle Major
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503943667
ISBN-10: 1503943666
Cover design by Damonza
To Dr. Kircher—down the block or several states away, I’m grateful for our friendship. Thanks for keeping me sane, making me laugh, and mixing the best beergaritas ever.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
Jenny Castelli was late, as usual, but it wasn’t her fault. There were simply too damn many people living in Denver, most of whom had descended on the swanky Cherry Creek North neighborhood for lunch this beautiful June afternoon.
If life were fair, Colorado natives like Jenny would be awarded some sort of special parking pass for the crowded streets. Unfortunately, the parking gods didn’t seem to give a flying fig about her place of birth. During her laps around the block, she’d passed the cars of the friends she was meeting. All three were Colorado transplants, but none had her issues with getting to places on time. They’d order for her, but Jenny rarely ate much during their monthly lunch dates, thanks to the familiar nervous flutter in her stomach. Jenny liked having girlfriends, but she wasn’t exactly a pro at the whole “sisters from another mister” vibe.
Up until her best guy friend, Ty Bishop, had met local reporter Kendall Clark two years ago, he was pretty much her only friend other than her mother. Everyone knew moms didn’t count.
Kendall had looked past Jenny’s rough edges—and there were plenty—to make her part of a tight-knit group of women that had quickly become Jenny’s lifeline. Not that she’d ever admit how much their friendship meant to her, or that she still sometimes expected Kendall, Chloe Haddox, and Sam Carlton to realize that she didn’t belong as part of their group. She couldn’t help running her mouth, and she didn’t get the subtle nuances of female friendship that other women seemed to have been born knowing.
She swore under her breath as she rounded a corner to another street lined with cars. Almost immediately, she mentally committed a dollar to her son’s swear jar. At twelve, Cooper was determined to cure her potty mouth, and while she tried her best not to curse in front of innocent ears, all bets were off in traffic.
A parking space finally opened only a miraculous half block from the restaurant, and she maneuvered the behemoth of a truck she was driving into it. Part of the reason she was running late was an issue at a job site, so she’d driven one of the hulking Rocky Mountain Landscapes vehicles instead of her own cutie-patootie Mini Cooper.
She shoved quarters in the meter, flicking a bit of dirt from her jeans with her free hand. She’d also planned to change from her work uniform of faded denim and a company T-shirt before lunch, but she took a bit of comfort in knowing that even if she got sidelong glances from the upscale customers in the cafe, her friends wouldn’t care.
“Jenny Castelli, is that you?”
The bright Colorado sun couldn’t prevent the chill that thrummed down her spine at the sound of a voice she hadn’t heard in a decade.
She tried to ignore the woman speaking, until another voice piped in. “Of course it’s her. Look at that crazy red hair. It’s as wild as it was in high school.”
Blowing out a breath, she turned to see Dina Sullivan and Brenna Holt, two of the posse of mean girls that had ruled her private and exclusive high school.
“Hard to believe I’ve avoided you ladies for so many years,” she muttered. “I guess my luck’s run out.”
“Seems about the same as it ever was,” Dina said in her tinkly voice. She’d always sounded to Jenny as if she’d just huffed a helium balloon. But the voice fit with her blond hair and brightly patterned Lilly Pulitzer dress. The woman was more Barbie doll than human. She pointed a pink-polished finger at Jenny’s truck. “Still a gardener?”
“I actually opened my own nursery on a property northwest of downtown.” When the women just stared, Jenny added, “I’m also a senior consultant to the design team at Rocky Mountain Landscapes.” She couldn’t help the note of pride in her voice, even though it was a job she was desperate to quit. Women like them never failed to put her on the defensive.
“But it’s Ty Bishop’s company,” Brenna said smoothly. “The Bishops have always taken such good care of those less fortunate than them.” She smiled like a cartoon cat trying to hide the canary in its mouth. “Especially you and your poor mother.”
“My mother was the one who took care of Ty and his brother and sister when we were growing up. Any of them would tell you the same thing.”
Ty’s father, Eric Bishop, had insisted on paying Jenny’s tuition to the prep school where his children attended high school, to thank Jenny’s mother for her years of service as the Bishops’ housekeeper. Although Jenny would have been a better fit at the local public high school, her mom had wanted Jenny to have an education that would pave the way to new opportunities.
But all the Summit School had offered was a lesson in heartbreak and humiliation. And these women knew it.
“You know our ten-year reunion is just around the corner. Brenna and I are, of course, on the committee,” Dina explained in her chirping voice.
“You haven’t RSVP’d yet,” Brenna said, her tone faintly disapproving. “Our numbers aren’t where we want them to be, so Dina and I are personally following up with people. You might be interested to know we’ve gotten confirmation that Trent is playing in the golf tournament that day.” Her glossy mouth pulled down at the corners. “That rascal had better make an appearance at the reunion as well. Maybe he’ll
bring his wife. I heard she’s lovely.” She plastered on a phony smile. “Do you two still keep in touch?”
Jenny felt her throat go dry as anger swept through her like a desert sandstorm. “No.”
Her lack of an RSVP had nothing to do with her ex-boyfriend, Trent Decker. She’d hated most of her classmates from high school when she was a teenager. Why would seeing them as adults be any different? But the thought that Trent would be there . . .
Brenna leaned slightly closer. “I understand why it would be difficult for you to attend. I mean, you live with your mistake every day.”
“If you’re referring to my son, you’d better shut up before I fu—mess you up.” Cooper would hate her outburst, but at least she’d managed not to swear.
Both Dina and Brenna gasped, and Jenny took a step closer to them. “Cooper is the best thing that ever happened to me, and Trent is an idiot and a jackass for walking away from him.” She felt her hands fist at the thought that anyone would reject her beautiful, smart, talented son. “We don’t need or want Trent in our lives.”
Brenna tsked softly. “You have to admit there are studies that prove that it’s important for a boy to have a strong male role model in his life.”
Jenny narrowed her eyes. “We don’t need Trent,” she repeated, “because Cooper has . . .” She paused, then said, “Someone who is proud to be a father to him. And he’s a million times the man Trent could ever be.”
A thrill of satisfaction flashed through her as both women’s jaws dropped. Jenny didn’t give a rat’s ass what the people she’d grown up with thought of her, but she’d be damned if anyone would diss her son. Of course, what she’d told them was a lie, but Jenny wasn’t known for her good judgment, and the feeling of being trapped by these women only obscured her internal compass even more.
“A father?” Brenna asked after another moment of gaping. “Does that mean . . .” Her gaze dropped to Jenny’s unadorned left hand.
Jenny drew in a breath. In for a penny, she supposed. “Of course I don’t wear my engagement ring when I’m working. It’s quite valuable.” When Dina’s eyes widened, she added, “And large. Yep, it’s a rock all right.”
As soon as the words were out, she bit down on her lip. She’d always had an issue with running her mouth, especially when her temper got the best of her. She was laying it on too thick. These two queen bees would call her out on her obvious lie, and then she’d look like the foolish social misfit most of the people she’d grown up with thought her to be.
Dina shifted closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I always thought Trent was a bit of a prig for dumping you the way he did. But my mom still keeps in touch with the Bishops, and I haven’t heard about you and a man since . . .”
“You certainly aren’t privy to everything—or anything—about my life, and neither is Libby Bishop. But . . . he’s someone I’ve known for a while.” A tiny part of her had imagined Owen Dalton’s gentle brown eyes when she’d been crafting her lie. They may have only dated for a nanosecond almost two years ago, but he’d been the nicest person she’d ever met. True to form, she’d screwed up the relationship before it even had a chance to blossom.
Brenna sucked in a breath. “You don’t mean—”
“Yes, I do,” Jenny answered automatically, still lost in a mix of daydreams and regret.
Both women whipped out their cell phones and began furiously thumbing.
Jenny blinked. “Wait. What do I mean?”
“Owen Dalton,” Brenna answered. “I remember when the Denver Post ran a story on him a couple of years ago and mentioned you were his girlfriend. I heard you’d broken up, but no one in their right mind would let a catch like him go.” Her thumbs tapped at an almost inhuman speed. “I’m posting to the event page on Facebook, right now.”
“Posting what?” Jenny’s voice came out sounding like she was Dina’s twin. She felt her own version of a helium rush pound through her head.
Neither woman seemed to notice. “This should get our numbers up,” Dina said. “We’ll call the DJ next. We thought we weren’t going to be able to afford him, but—”
“Stop.” Jenny tried to snatch the phone, but Brenna managed a shockingly quick shoulder block. “What did you do?”
Brenna grinned triumphantly. “I posted your engagement.”
Jenny felt her lungs seize as if someone had just dropped a two-ton boulder on her chest. “You’re joking, right?”
“Don’t worry.” Brenna patted Jenny’s arm like she was soothing a toddler having a meltdown. “I didn’t say his name. I hinted you’d be bringing a surprise guest and that no one who had used a device from Dalton Enterprises would want to miss it.”
Jenny clutched her stomach. She was definitely going to puke all over Brenna’s expensive-looking wedge sandals.
“We should tweet it, too,” Dina said, nudging Brenna.
“Can I get a photo of you wearing the ring?” Brenna asked. “I can Instagram the big rock.”
“Right after I insta-punch you in the throat,” Jenny growled, her heart hammering in her chest.
“You really haven’t changed,” Dina murmured.
Jenny stared at the ground in front of her, trying hard to convince herself that her entire world wasn’t spinning out of control.
“You have to come to the reunion,” Brenna said quietly. “It’s on social media. Everyone will expect it.”
Jenny wanted to say that she didn’t give a damn about anyone’s expectations. But as much as she liked to pretend not to care, she couldn’t stop herself.
“You weren’t making it all up?” Dina asked after another moment of awkward silence. “The father for your kid and the big engagement ring?”
Tell them, a little voice inside Jenny’s head whispered. A voice that sounded a lot like her mother.
You are enough for Cooper. You are enough.
She gulped in air and raised her head, pasting a smile across her face. “Owen’s protective of his private life, but I’m sure I can convince him.” Her heart was pounding double-time as the lies continued to spill out of her mouth. “To tell you the truth, he has trouble denying me anything. He’s super romantic that way.”
“Lucky,” Brenna said. “Mark and I have been married almost five years and already we’re just a boring couple who fights over the remote.”
Oh, how Jenny wished for boring right then.
“I’m late to meet some friends for lunch,” she said, her voice sounding far away in her own ears. She stood like a statue as each woman gave her a short, awkward hug. They’d been ready to tear her apart five minutes earlier, and now they were hugging? Behold the power of her fake fiancé.
She let it happen, too stunned to do anything else. Like explaining that she’d just had a mental breakdown and could she get a do-over on the conversation? On most areas of her life that meant anything to her?
Alone on the sidewalk, she made her way to the restaurant. It was an upscale bistro—Kendall’s favorite. Jenny did her best to ignore the sidelong glances she received from some of the other diners. It felt like her face was burning, and if her eyes showed the wild panic roaring through her, she was surprised strangers didn’t run screaming from her. She tried to school her features as she approached Kendall, Chloe, and Sam laughing together in a quiet corner booth.
“We ordered for you,” Kendall said as Jenny slipped in next to Chloe.
Sam leaned across the wood table. “Hey, Red, you don’t look so hot. Is everything okay?”
“Not exactly.” Jenny shook her head. “I need to convince Owen Dalton to be my fiancé for one night.”
Chloe’s mouth dropped open, and Kendall blinked several times.
“You need food now,” Sam said. “I think your blood sugar is out of whack and it’s making you talk crazy.”
“It’s not crazy.”
Sam lifted an eyebrow. “It sounds crazy.”
“Let her talk,” Chloe said, nudging Sam. “I’m sure she has a
good explanation.” She gave Jenny a hopeful smile. “Don’t you, honey?”
Jenny sucked in a breath around the tight ball of embarrassment clogging the back of her throat. “My high school reunion is this coming weekend. Cooper’s father, Trent, is going to be there, and I just ran into the two women planning everything. They were . . .” She paused, bit down on her lip. “I let them get to me and ran my mouth.”
“What did they say?” Kendall asked. Her voice was soft but not as gentle as Chloe’s tone. Kendall was still close friends with Owen and hadn’t quite forgiven Jenny for how she’d treated him. Jenny didn’t blame her. She hadn’t forgiven herself, either.
“They insinuated that Cooper was a mistake.”
“Bitches,” Sam muttered as Chloe gasped and Kendall’s eyes narrowed.
“They brought up Trent and how tough it is for kids who grow up without a father figure. I got mad and started talking before I thought about what I was saying.” Jenny cleared her throat. “I told them I was engaged.”
“To Owen?” Kendall asked.
Jenny shook her head. “I didn’t mention him by name, but they assumed . . .”
“You could hire an escort for the night,” Sam suggested. “We’ll find a guy who’s hot and looks rich. It would save you the humiliation of having to beg Owen to take pity on you.”
“It wouldn’t be a pity date,” Chloe argued. “It would be Owen doing a favor for a friend.”
Sam snorted. “Is Kendall going to ask him? Because I don’t think he considers Jen a friend at this point.”
Jenny took a quick sip of water to try to calm the burning in her throat. She glanced at Kendall. “What should I do?”
“You should have held your head high and not let those women get to you in the first place,” Kendall answered. “You’re a great mom, Jenny.”
“But they were right about a kid needing a dad, and it killed me to hear it said out loud.”
There was a moment of silence at the table while the waitress brought their meals. Jenny’s stomach rolled as she looked at her club sandwich with a side of sweet potato fries. It was her favorite, but at the moment she couldn’t muster a bit of interest in eating.
Meant for You Page 1